A beautiful, complex story of people trying to understand where they’ve been and figure out what to do next. Winner of the 2017 Miles Franklin Award, Extinctions is a moving portrait of one family’s secrets, missed opportunities, and hopes for another chance at life. Beautifully written, with strong, memorable characters, Wilson’s latest takes readers on a deeply satisfying journey and reminds us of our power to create change.
All may be allegory, but Extinctions gets its hands dirty with a real plot and realistic characters ... takes a hard look at the politics of adoption, cultural appropriation, loss, deracination, and professional frustration, without Wilson letting up her fictional grip ... [Wilson] writes with great intention, calling upon us as individuals and as a society to change.
A story full of death, yet held together by subtle, lyrical prose that refuses to give way to despair ... Wilson's paragraphs and sentences have a rounded shape, in contrast to the currently fashionable way of writing, which tends to jagged, broken sentences. Her style encourages readers to savour each image and insight as it is revealed, without feeling that the narrative is constantly rushing forward to the next piece of "action". Some would call this style old-fashioned; in my view it has a lot going for it.
Though sometimes very funny, it is dark and full of tragic power ... The title promises extinctions and the narrative delivers, in blow after sickening blow ... Wilson offers her readers not closure but the impetus to continue imagining how these characters – how we all – impinge on each other, whether we like it or not. We may draw morals from this dark novel, but let us be warier than Fred of the impulse to take drastic action to atone for past failings.
Australian writer Josephine Wilson immerses us in this moving story of guilt and reckoning with powerful prose, intriguing characters and heartening touches of humor. The strangely apropos photos and drawings of engineering marvels and extinct animals that accompany the chapters leave readers smiling and pondering the trail that humans leave behind, as a group or by ourselves.
Quiet, gorgeously put-together ... The metaphorical layering with regard to extinctions—the ends of things—is beautifully accomplished ... The various sad backstory details about old deaths, betrayals, and other wounds are teased out slowly and patiently, but that momentum is no greater than the more uplifting one: the unforeseen, truly magical opening of possibilities for growth, change, reconciliation, happiness ... A really fine, deeply intelligent book with so much to think about and so much unexpected hope.
Artfully portrays the nuances of death and extinction through its characters’ reluctant self-examinations ... Unearthing the human need to feel connection to others, this contemplative novel skillfully delves into Frederick and Caroline’s psyches, resulting in a potent depiction of loneliness and contact.
