---
product_id: 26587608
title: "Extinction: A Novel (Vintage International)"
price: "139 zł"
currency: PLN
in_stock: true
reviews_count: 13
url: https://www.desertcart.pl/products/26587608-extinction-a-novel-vintage-international
store_origin: PL
region: Poland
---

# Extinction: A Novel (Vintage International)

**Price:** 139 zł
**Availability:** ✅ In Stock

## Quick Answers

- **What is this?** Extinction: A Novel (Vintage International)
- **How much does it cost?** 139 zł with free shipping
- **Is it available?** Yes, in stock and ready to ship
- **Where can I buy it?** [www.desertcart.pl](https://www.desertcart.pl/products/26587608-extinction-a-novel-vintage-international)

## Best For

- Customers looking for quality international products

## Why This Product

- Free international shipping included
- Worldwide delivery with tracking
- 15-day hassle-free returns

## Description

The last work of fiction by one of the twentieth century’s greatest artists, Extinction is widely considered Thomas Bernhard’s magnum opus. Franz-Josef Murau—the intellectual black sheep of a powerful Austrian land-owning family—lives in Rome in self-imposed exile, surrounded by a coterie of artistic and intellectual friends. On returning from his sister’s wedding on the family estate of Wolfsegg, having resolved never to go home again, Murau receives a telegram informing him of the death of his parents and brother in a car crash. Not only must he now go back, he must do so as the master of Wolfsegg. And he must decide its fate. Written in the seamless, mesmerizing style for which Bernhard was famous, Extinction is the ultimate proof of his extraordinary literary genius.

Review: Existentialism with a moral heart. - "Extinction" is the story of Franz-Josef Murau, a wealthy Austrian gentleman living in Rome as a private tutor in German literature. His tastes run to the esoteric and philosophical, and his relationship with his student, Gambetti, is intellectually mutual. He has just returned to Rome from the wedding of his younger sister, Caecilia, to an "obese wine cork manufacturer," held at the family estate in Austria, called Wolfsegg. At the wedding were his parents, older brother Johannes, and his other younger sister, Amelia. He receives a telegram in Rome: "Parents and Johannes killed in accident." For the first half of this 320-page book (each half being one unbroken paragraph!), he describes his life, and his narration becomes a deep reflection on his childhood and life to date. He delivers a marvelous psychological portrait of himself, as well as the family members who have just died, and his long-dead Uncle Georg, whom he remembers with great fondness. He hates his family deeply, and the feeling is mutual. He is a philosopher, they are down to earth. He is an aesthete, but they are simple folks. He is a scholar, but they are hunters and farmers, despite their fantastic wealth and their prosperous family estate. Only Uncle George understood him, artistic, free-spirited, and educated. Franz-Josef reflects passionately on his current situation, and tells us many stories of himself and his family. For the second half of the book, he describes the funeral at Wolfsegg. Lacking parents and older siblings, he is now the master of the estate. His sisters look to him for leadership. He must now decide what to do with the estate. Will he move back to Wolfsegg in Austria, a land he loves, but an estate he hates? Will he pass it to his sisters and remain in Rome, a city he cherishes more than any other? Bernhard will stun the reader with the beauty of the resolution, but will do it in his own literary fashion. During the story, we learn Franz-Josef disdains Catholicism and National Socialism (i.e., Nazism) in equal parts. His mother had been having an affair with a Catholic Archbishop in Rome, a relationship which was supposedly secret, but which all her children seem to know of. The Archbishop is a close family friend, and will certainly visit the estate for the funeral. His father had many Nazi friends, unbelievably still openly Nazi all these years after the war. He tells us of the fun times he enjoyed playing at his estate's Children's Villa, and how disappointed he was when it was shuttered. He vows to open and restore it when he is master. He tells us of the five libraries---five!---scattered about the estate, similarly shuttered up, collecting dust despite a half-dozen generations' worth of valuable books stored within. He tells us childhood stories of his parents, his brother, and his sister, all disdainful, and heaps contempt upon his brother-in-law, whose name he cannot even bring himself to utter, in generous proportions. At one point, he bathes in his father's bath, and wears some of his clothes. Is this a metaphor for his feelings? We learn that he blames his father only for being such a simple man, but hates his mother passionately, for dragging his father into the mud. We struggle with the idea that this is an unreliable narrator, and we are only hearing one side of a two-sided story, but unlike Italo Svevo's masterpiece, "Confessions of Zeno", it is clear that despite this narrator's one-sided story, there is no reason to disbelieve him. He is as critical of himself as of others, and he demonstrates the pettiness and crudeness of his family in many different ways. We trust him, not only because he is self-critical, but because despite his self-confidence, he is not a fool. We also learn some untoward truths about his family, and a few hidden secrets, which cannot be dismissed, even from the most unreliable narrator. His angst comes from a simple sentiment, expressed early on: "I can't abolish my family just because I want to." He struggles to resolve the question of extinction: Must he extinguish himself to satisfy his family? Must his family be extinguished to satisfy himself? Finally, after a rollicking narration of heartfelt emotions and deeply-help philosophies, Bernhard's narrator demonstrates how he chooses to reconcile his thoughts and feelings, his inheritance and his sisters, his legacy and his future, and all the elements demonstrated through the length of the novel braid together like a jewel. Bernhard's prose is difficult for those unfamiliar with experimental or cutting-edge literature, but actually not very difficult once one tries. Curious readers will greatly enjoy engaging their mind with this book. If they wish to sample a smaller work before digging into this one, Bernhard's "Yes" is another masterpiece of style and depth. Both are rewarding, brilliant works from a literary master.
Review: Isn't Wolfsegg a funny place? - Is there a word in German that signifies "Bernhardism" or, more to the point, "Bernhardists"? I ask because all the other reviewers seem to belong to this camp; most seem to be fluent in German and, indeed, to have more or less memorised his entire corpus of works. This book is my first exposure to this great Bernhard, and I have a few caveats for the neophyte reader of him: * Beware of him if you suffer from chronic depression * Beware of him if you absolutely love cameras and photography * Beware of him if you are Catholic and attend mass and go to confession * Beware of him if you have any sort of sentimental attachment to Austria, or anywhere in Central Europe * Beware of him if you think Nazi uniforms look "cool" * Beware of him if you think that German literature is the ne plus ultra of modern endeavours * Beware of him if you are "family-oriented" * Beware of him if you take everything seriously The last, of course, is the only credible caveat. The exaggerated spleen and diatribe on display here borders on the ridiculous so often, that it is really impossible not to laugh, all the while knowing that there exists at least a crumb of existential truth in each sentence of this extended rant. Bernhard or the narrator "Murau" or however you wish to parse it remarks herein at one point, "Without the art of exaggeration, I told him (his pupil Gambetti), we'd be condemned to an awfully tedious life, a life not worth living." And, indeed, without the dark humour the book would be pitch-black unreadable. For the sake of brevity, I'll mention the character Spadolini, as a sort of synecdoche of everything with which the narrator is absorbed and obsessed: Spadolini, that elegant, worldly Roman Nuncio who's been having it off with the narrator's mother for years. Of him, our narrator says: "Yet although everything Spadolini said about my father is wrong, I thought, it has an air of authenticity. We often hear the most arrant nonsense spoken about someone, downright lies and falsehoods, but accept it as the unadulterated truth because it is uttered by someone whose words carry conviction." It is the comforting verbiage of a Spadolini about our families, our lives, our deaths, and our ulterior motives that Bernhard, successfully it seems to me, pours venom on here. Yet, he remarks earlier that this same Spadolini is the most capital sort of fellow, who made life liveable for him in Rome, who showed him around, made introductions on his behalf, who acquired his pupil Gambetti for him. So, there is actually a deep ambiguity about the world underlying the spleen on superficial display. I would argue that it is this undertow of underlying ambiguity which makes the book such a deeply unsettling, important one to read.

## Features

- Used Book in Good Condition

## Technical Specifications

| Specification | Value |
|---------------|-------|
| Best Sellers Rank | #232,289 in Books ( See Top 100 in Books ) #842 in Literary Movements & Periods #2,783 in Psychological Fiction (Books) #11,463 in Literary Fiction (Books) |
| Customer Reviews | 4.1 out of 5 stars 165 Reviews |

## Images

![Extinction: A Novel (Vintage International) - Image 1](https://m.media-amazon.com/images/I/61R4VQlz2fL.jpg)

## Customer Reviews

### ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ Existentialism with a moral heart.
*by J***G on December 20, 2002*

"Extinction" is the story of Franz-Josef Murau, a wealthy Austrian gentleman living in Rome as a private tutor in German literature. His tastes run to the esoteric and philosophical, and his relationship with his student, Gambetti, is intellectually mutual. He has just returned to Rome from the wedding of his younger sister, Caecilia, to an "obese wine cork manufacturer," held at the family estate in Austria, called Wolfsegg. At the wedding were his parents, older brother Johannes, and his other younger sister, Amelia. He receives a telegram in Rome: "Parents and Johannes killed in accident." For the first half of this 320-page book (each half being one unbroken paragraph!), he describes his life, and his narration becomes a deep reflection on his childhood and life to date. He delivers a marvelous psychological portrait of himself, as well as the family members who have just died, and his long-dead Uncle Georg, whom he remembers with great fondness. He hates his family deeply, and the feeling is mutual. He is a philosopher, they are down to earth. He is an aesthete, but they are simple folks. He is a scholar, but they are hunters and farmers, despite their fantastic wealth and their prosperous family estate. Only Uncle George understood him, artistic, free-spirited, and educated. Franz-Josef reflects passionately on his current situation, and tells us many stories of himself and his family. For the second half of the book, he describes the funeral at Wolfsegg. Lacking parents and older siblings, he is now the master of the estate. His sisters look to him for leadership. He must now decide what to do with the estate. Will he move back to Wolfsegg in Austria, a land he loves, but an estate he hates? Will he pass it to his sisters and remain in Rome, a city he cherishes more than any other? Bernhard will stun the reader with the beauty of the resolution, but will do it in his own literary fashion. During the story, we learn Franz-Josef disdains Catholicism and National Socialism (i.e., Nazism) in equal parts. His mother had been having an affair with a Catholic Archbishop in Rome, a relationship which was supposedly secret, but which all her children seem to know of. The Archbishop is a close family friend, and will certainly visit the estate for the funeral. His father had many Nazi friends, unbelievably still openly Nazi all these years after the war. He tells us of the fun times he enjoyed playing at his estate's Children's Villa, and how disappointed he was when it was shuttered. He vows to open and restore it when he is master. He tells us of the five libraries---five!---scattered about the estate, similarly shuttered up, collecting dust despite a half-dozen generations' worth of valuable books stored within. He tells us childhood stories of his parents, his brother, and his sister, all disdainful, and heaps contempt upon his brother-in-law, whose name he cannot even bring himself to utter, in generous proportions. At one point, he bathes in his father's bath, and wears some of his clothes. Is this a metaphor for his feelings? We learn that he blames his father only for being such a simple man, but hates his mother passionately, for dragging his father into the mud. We struggle with the idea that this is an unreliable narrator, and we are only hearing one side of a two-sided story, but unlike Italo Svevo's masterpiece, "Confessions of Zeno", it is clear that despite this narrator's one-sided story, there is no reason to disbelieve him. He is as critical of himself as of others, and he demonstrates the pettiness and crudeness of his family in many different ways. We trust him, not only because he is self-critical, but because despite his self-confidence, he is not a fool. We also learn some untoward truths about his family, and a few hidden secrets, which cannot be dismissed, even from the most unreliable narrator. His angst comes from a simple sentiment, expressed early on: "I can't abolish my family just because I want to." He struggles to resolve the question of extinction: Must he extinguish himself to satisfy his family? Must his family be extinguished to satisfy himself? Finally, after a rollicking narration of heartfelt emotions and deeply-help philosophies, Bernhard's narrator demonstrates how he chooses to reconcile his thoughts and feelings, his inheritance and his sisters, his legacy and his future, and all the elements demonstrated through the length of the novel braid together like a jewel. Bernhard's prose is difficult for those unfamiliar with experimental or cutting-edge literature, but actually not very difficult once one tries. Curious readers will greatly enjoy engaging their mind with this book. If they wish to sample a smaller work before digging into this one, Bernhard's "Yes" is another masterpiece of style and depth. Both are rewarding, brilliant works from a literary master.

### ⭐⭐⭐⭐ Isn't Wolfsegg a funny place?
*by D***S on August 5, 2011*

Is there a word in German that signifies "Bernhardism" or, more to the point, "Bernhardists"? I ask because all the other reviewers seem to belong to this camp; most seem to be fluent in German and, indeed, to have more or less memorised his entire corpus of works. This book is my first exposure to this great Bernhard, and I have a few caveats for the neophyte reader of him: * Beware of him if you suffer from chronic depression * Beware of him if you absolutely love cameras and photography * Beware of him if you are Catholic and attend mass and go to confession * Beware of him if you have any sort of sentimental attachment to Austria, or anywhere in Central Europe * Beware of him if you think Nazi uniforms look "cool" * Beware of him if you think that German literature is the ne plus ultra of modern endeavours * Beware of him if you are "family-oriented" * Beware of him if you take everything seriously The last, of course, is the only credible caveat. The exaggerated spleen and diatribe on display here borders on the ridiculous so often, that it is really impossible not to laugh, all the while knowing that there exists at least a crumb of existential truth in each sentence of this extended rant. Bernhard or the narrator "Murau" or however you wish to parse it remarks herein at one point, "Without the art of exaggeration, I told him (his pupil Gambetti), we'd be condemned to an awfully tedious life, a life not worth living." And, indeed, without the dark humour the book would be pitch-black unreadable. For the sake of brevity, I'll mention the character Spadolini, as a sort of synecdoche of everything with which the narrator is absorbed and obsessed: Spadolini, that elegant, worldly Roman Nuncio who's been having it off with the narrator's mother for years. Of him, our narrator says: "Yet although everything Spadolini said about my father is wrong, I thought, it has an air of authenticity. We often hear the most arrant nonsense spoken about someone, downright lies and falsehoods, but accept it as the unadulterated truth because it is uttered by someone whose words carry conviction." It is the comforting verbiage of a Spadolini about our families, our lives, our deaths, and our ulterior motives that Bernhard, successfully it seems to me, pours venom on here. Yet, he remarks earlier that this same Spadolini is the most capital sort of fellow, who made life liveable for him in Rome, who showed him around, made introductions on his behalf, who acquired his pupil Gambetti for him. So, there is actually a deep ambiguity about the world underlying the spleen on superficial display. I would argue that it is this undertow of underlying ambiguity which makes the book such a deeply unsettling, important one to read.

### ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ Vintage Bernhard
*by A***R on October 26, 2015*

A seemingly inexhaustible monologue by a man on the edge of sanity, Extinction takes place over a few crucial days in the narrator’s life after he learns his father, mother and brother have died in an accident. Like most narrators in Bernhard's novels, Murau, is brilliant, witty, obsessive, and filled with outrage at the mundanity of the “petit bourgeois” and the insufferable hypocrisy inherent in all Austrian institutions, including the Catholic church. Central to Murau’s outrage is the knowledge that his prominent land-owning family had been Nazi sympathizers and that Austria had basically papered over the history of that time. Bernard keeps luring the reader down the various passageways of Murau's endlessly conflicted mind leads him and us through, even though we sense (incorrectly) there is no escaping the maze we find ourselves in. A great novel by a major writer, but The Loser would be a better place to start if you are reading Bernhard for the first time.

---

## Why Shop on Desertcart?

- 🛒 **Trusted by 1.3+ Million Shoppers** — Serving international shoppers since 2016
- 🌍 **Shop Globally** — Access 737+ million products across 21 categories
- 💰 **No Hidden Fees** — All customs, duties, and taxes included in the price
- 🔄 **15-Day Free Returns** — Hassle-free returns (30 days for PRO members)
- 🔒 **Secure Payments** — Trusted payment options with buyer protection
- ⭐ **TrustPilot Rated 4.5/5** — Based on 8,000+ happy customer reviews

**Shop now:** [https://www.desertcart.pl/products/26587608-extinction-a-novel-vintage-international](https://www.desertcart.pl/products/26587608-extinction-a-novel-vintage-international)

---

*Product available on Desertcart Poland*
*Store origin: PL*
*Last updated: 2026-05-27*