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558 pages, Paperback
First published December 22, 2004
All the reviews claimed these books were masterpieces. I wondered. At one point somebody gleefully told me that Bernhard's speech accepting the 1967 Austrian State Prize was so politically offensive that half the audience left in a rage, including the minister of culture. I liked the sound of that.
(...)
While reading Extinction I found myself smoothing down page after page, deeply content to be listening to Murau comment on anything, in tune with a book that matched my own taste for worldly observation, self-pity, and wistfulness. I've never been to Austria and Murau is something of a creep, but so what? His inexorable volubility is quite irresistible, like a confession of strange sins or a declaration of hopeless love. Ultimately what I liked was Bernhard's anguished vision of things, his late-Beethoven-string-quartet sensibility.
Jarrell was just someone who loved to talk about books. Yet his conversation was such that it encouraged a complicity between himself and his readers, so that after finishing pieces on Kipling or Malraux's Voices of Silence, or on Housman, Frost, and so many others, one wants to go directly to the library shelf and just read, read, read. All of Jarrell's criticism can be summarized as a description of the joy he had found in reading, followed by the command "Go thou and do likewise".
When Dixon angrily frees some slaves, he decides to whip, maybe even kill, their swaggering, foul-mouth exploiter, who immediately crumples and pleads, "No! Please! My little ones! O Tiffany! Jason! Scott" Clearly there are still no boundaries to Thomas Pynchon's genius.