A New Collection Analysis: Interwoven Narratives of Trauma
Twelve-year-old Freya spends time with her distracted mother in Cornwall when she comes across 14-year-old twins. "The only thing better than being aware of a secret," they inform her, "comes from possessing one of your own." In the time that follow, they sexually assault her, then bury her alive, blend of unease and annoyance flitting across their faces as they ultimately liberate her from her temporary coffin.
This could have served as the shocking centrepiece of a novel, but it's merely a single of many terrible events in The Elements, which assembles four novelettes – issued distinctly between 2023 and 2025 – in which characters confront past trauma and try to find peace in the current moment.
Disputed Context and Thematic Exploration
The book's release has been overshadowed by the addition of Earth, the subsequent novella, on the preliminary list for a prominent LGBTQ+ writing prize. In August, nearly all other nominees dropped out in protest at the author's debated views – and this year's prize has now been called off.
Conversation of LGBTQ+ matters is missing from The Elements, although the author touches on plenty of significant issues. Anti-gay prejudice, the effect of mainstream and online outlets, caregiver abandonment and sexual violence are all examined.
Four Accounts of Trauma
- In Water, a sorrowful woman named Willow transfers to a isolated Irish island after her husband is jailed for horrific crimes.
- In Earth, Evan is a soccer player on trial as an participant to rape.
- In Fire, the mature Freya juggles retaliation with her work as a medical professional.
- In Air, a dad journeys to a memorial service with his teenage son, and wonders how much to divulge about his family's background.
Pain is piled on suffering as wounded survivors seem fated to encounter each other again and again for eternity
Related Accounts
Connections proliferate. We first meet Evan as a boy trying to escape the island of Water. His trial's group contains the Freya who returns in Fire. Aaron, the father from Air, partners with Freya and has a child with Willow's daughter. Minor characters from one story reappear in homes, bars or judicial venues in another.
These narrative elements may sound tangled, but the author knows how to drive a narrative – his earlier acclaimed Holocaust drama has sold many copies, and he has been rendered into numerous languages. His businesslike prose bristles with suspenseful hooks: "in the end, a doctor in the burns unit should know better than to toy with fire"; "the first thing I do when I come to the island is alter my name".
Personality Development and Narrative Strength
Characters are drawn in succinct, effective lines: the compassionate Nigerian priest, the troubled pub landlord, the daughter at conflict with her mother. Some scenes resonate with melancholy power or perceptive humour: a boy is punched by his father after urinating at a football match; a prejudiced island mother and her Dublin-raised neighbour swap jabs over cups of diluted tea.
The author's knack of transporting you wholeheartedly into each narrative gives the return of a character or plot strand from an earlier story a real excitement, for the first few times at least. Yet the aggregate effect of it all is dulling, and at times nearly comic: pain is layered with trauma, accident on chance in a grim farce in which wounded survivors seem doomed to encounter each other repeatedly for forever.
Conceptual Complexity and Final Evaluation
If this sounds not exactly life and resembling purgatory, that is aspect of the author's message. These wounded people are weighed down by the crimes they have suffered, stuck in patterns of thought and behavior that agitate and plunge and may in turn damage others. The author has talked about the influence of his personal experiences of abuse and he portrays with sympathy the way his characters negotiate this perilous landscape, striving for treatments – seclusion, frigid water immersion, resolution or refreshing honesty – that might bring illumination.
The book's "fundamental" framing isn't terribly informative, while the brisk pace means the discussion of social issues or social media is primarily surface-level. But while The Elements is a imperfect work, it's also a entirely readable, victim-focused saga: a welcome rebuttal to the typical preoccupation on investigators and criminals. The author shows how trauma can affect lives and generations, and how years and compassion can soften its reverberations.