The last review on my list of books longlisted for this year’s Miles Franklin Literary Award is Extinctions (UWA Publishing 2016) by Josephine Wilson. Extinctions is an unusual hybrid of a novel – on one level it is the story of retired engineer 69-year-old Professor Frederick Lothian and his reduced circumstances in his new accommodation in a retirement village. But on another, deeper, level, it is a story about the extinction of a whole host of things, not just his career and his marriage and his way of life. The narrative charts the endings of so much more: relationships, animals, structures, habits, cultural decline.
I found it difficult to engage with the first 20 or 30 pages of this novel – I found myself somewhat confounded by what appeared to be a mixing of the present and the past, of what was happening now with the memory of what had happened long ago. Added to this is the book’s unusual addition of illustrations – an eclectic collection of photographs, plans, and architectural and structural designs that add a slightly haunted ambience. But once I had settled into the story and could begin to decipher fact and ongoing plot from memory and conjecture, I was thoroughly engaged with Frederick and the conundrum of his life.
His wife, Martha, died some years previously. His two adult children are key figures in the story – some of the chapters are from his daughter, Caroline’s, perspective. She was adopted by Fred and Martha when she was only two, and has experienced her share of troubles. The other child, Callum, is also lost to Fred, but in a different way. A large part of the story is about Fred reconnecting with his two children and navigating a relationship with them based on truth and trust rather than a lifetime of lies and avoidance. Fred’s circumstances are complicated further by a colourful past, including the untimely death of his brother when they were both children, and the complex knot of relations he and Martha shared with their friends Ralph and Veronica. The woman he meets in the retirement village – Jan – comes with her own set of difficulties, including a five-year-old grandson abandoned by his parents. Jan is a strong, feisty and determined character who acts as ballast to Fred’s inertia and misery. Surrounded by objects he has collected over a lifetime, and wallowing in his knowledge of concrete and modernist design, Fred is drawn back into the real world by Jan, whose attitude of carpe diem introduces some much-needed joy and appetite into Fred’s world.
While I found some of the plot developments towards the end a little implausible, and also found the ending a bit too neatly tied up, on the whole this is a book that is moving, encouraging and often very funny. The nature of extinction – of the self, of the soul, of a species or a race – is presented and examined from many different viewpoints. The process of aging, and of the aged, is viewed through a prism of kindness and empathy. The book tackles some of the big issues of life: adoption, disability, aging, and the complications of family dynamics. (It is almost a call to arms for the aging in our community: do not go gentle into this good night!) The many curveballs thrown at us by life are catalogued with a sensitivity to difference and a compassion towards those who try their best, but don’t always do their best, and aren’t always able to be their best.