John Boyne's Latest Analysis: Linked Narratives of Pain

Young Freya is visiting her preoccupied mother in Cornwall when she encounters teenage twins. "The only thing better than knowing a secret," they advise her, "is having one of your own." In the days that ensue, they will rape her, then inter her while living, a mix of unease and annoyance flitting across their faces as they finally free her from her temporary coffin.

This might have stood as the jarring focal point of a novel, but it's only one of many horrific events in The Elements, which assembles four short novels – released individually between 2023 and 2025 – in which characters negotiate previous suffering and try to achieve peace in the present moment.

Disputed Context and Subject Exploration

The book's publication has been marred by the addition of Earth, the subsequent novella, on the longlist for a significant LGBTQ+ writing prize. In August, nearly all other contenders dropped out in protest at the author's gender-critical views – and this year's prize has now been cancelled.

Conversation of LGBTQ+ matters is missing from The Elements, although the author addresses plenty of big issues. Homophobia, the effect of conventional and digital platforms, caregiver abandonment and abuse are all examined.

Four Accounts of Trauma

  • In Water, a sorrowful woman named Willow moves to a isolated Irish island after her husband is jailed for terrible crimes.
  • In Earth, Evan is a footballer on trial as an accessory to rape.
  • In Fire, the grown-up Freya manages vengeance with her work as a surgeon.
  • In Air, a parent journeys to a funeral with his adolescent son, and wonders how much to divulge about his family's past.
Trauma is piled on pain as damaged survivors seem fated to meet each other again and again for all time

Interconnected Accounts

Relationships abound. We initially encounter Evan as a boy trying to leave the island of Water. His trial's panel contains the Freya who reappears in Fire. Aaron, the father from Air, works with Freya and has a child with Willow's daughter. Secondary characters from one account resurface in cottages, taverns or judicial venues in another.

These storylines may sound complex, but the author understands how to propel a narrative – his prior acclaimed Holocaust drama has sold many copies, and he has been translated into numerous languages. His straightforward prose shines with suspenseful hooks: "after all, a doctor in the burns unit should know better than to play with fire"; "the first thing I do when I reach the island is alter my name".

Character Portrayal and Storytelling Strength

Characters are sketched in concise, powerful lines: the empathetic Nigerian priest, the disturbed pub landlord, the daughter at struggle with her mother. Some scenes echo with melancholy power or perceptive humour: a boy is struck by his father after having an accident at a football match; a prejudiced island mother and her Dublin-raised neighbour swap barbs over cups of diluted tea.

The author's knack of bringing you fully into each narrative gives the reappearance of a character or plot strand from an earlier story a authentic thrill, for the opening times at least. Yet the aggregate effect of it all is dulling, and at times almost comic: suffering is layered with suffering, accident on coincidence in a dark farce in which hurt survivors seem doomed to bump into each other again and again for eternity.

Conceptual Depth and Final Assessment

If this sounds less like life and resembling limbo, that is element of the author's thesis. These damaged people are weighed down by the crimes they have endured, stuck in cycles of thought and behavior that agitate and plunge and may in turn hurt others. The author has spoken about the impact of his own experiences of abuse and he describes with compassion the way his ensemble traverse this dangerous landscape, striving for treatments – seclusion, frigid water immersion, resolution or bracing honesty – that might provide clarity.

The book's "basic" structure isn't terribly informative, while the brisk pace means the exploration of gender dynamics or social media is mostly shallow. But while The Elements is a defective work, it's also a completely accessible, survivor-centered saga: a welcome riposte to the common fixation on authorities and perpetrators. The author demonstrates how trauma can run through lives and generations, and how time and care can quieten its echoes.

Barbara Hill
Barbara Hill

Tech enthusiast and writer with a passion for demystifying complex innovations and sharing practical insights.