`Extinction' is a lucid deconstruction of the façade of family life. Franz-Josef is an academic working in Rome when he receives a telegram informing him that his parents and brother have been killed in an accident, and that he must return to his familial home of Wolfsegg in Austria. The first half of the book focuses on Franz-Josef's feelings towards his family and upbringing, as told to Gambetti, his student in Rome. The second half covers his interaction with his sisters and family after returning to Wolfsegg to attend the funerals and take charge of the estate that has now passed to him. `Extinction' is an inner monologue describing Franz-Josef's antipathy toward his home, his family and Austria as a whole.
`Extinction' is a brutal piece of writing. Franz-Josef is a left-leaning intellectual, but his family, and his country, are portrayed as bourgeois and Nazi. Their priorities are a million miles from his, and he casts himself in the role of black sheep, aided and abetted by his Uncle Georg, his corrupting influence and fellow family `embarrassment'. Franz-Josef holds nothing back, telling Gambetti of his utter disgust for Austria and its way of life, and for his sisters, pursuing small-minded goals in short, ugly lives, and for his dead parents and brother. In Rome he is in his element. Back in Wolfsegg, he is the outsider, forced to play host to unrepentant Nazis and self-important middle classes in pointless jobs. He reluctantly performs his part, but the sights and places of his youth fuel his feeling of being an outsider. His goal for his time in Wolfsegg becomes the extinction of his past and his connection to it.
`Extinction' is obviously not a happy read, or a particularly easy one. All the negatives of Franz-Josef's life are poured out, and the vitriol is ceaseless. Nevertheless, it is brilliantly lucid, and anyone sharing some of his attitude towards past and family cannot help but recognise the truth behind his feelings. Many writers have written about family issues, but few that I have read have explored what it means to genuinely hate their relatives. Bernhard does this successfully, maintaining the reader's sympathy, but also exploring Franz-Josef's failings. It is written as large unbroken chunks of text, so does require some patience and perseverance to get through, but was fantastically rewarding for me to have read. Perhaps this isn't a book for everyone, but as an exploration of a politically and intellectually riven family, I haven't come across anything better.