The Extinction of Irena Rey wears a lot of masks: it’s part political thriller, part locked room murder mystery, part psychological horror (are the pagan Polish gods real, or is she having a mental breakdown?). But most of all, it’s a Borgesian exploration of the concept of death of the author.
The structure is irresolvably self-referential: a translation of a novel fictionalizing the process of translating a (real in-universe) novel. To keep the layers straight, the in-universe author is the titular Irena Rey, a Polish bestselling author. The events of the novel are “written” by Emi, the Argentinian translator-into-Spanish of Irena’s latest novel. But the text you read is the “translation” of Emi’s account into English by Alexis, Irena’s American translator into English. The real world author is Jennifer Croft, award winning American translator of Polish and Argentinian literature. Got it? Good, me either.
At the beginning of the narrative, ten translators from various languages have all gathered in a remote cabin to clandestinely simul-translate the latest novel by Irena (who the translators simply call Our Author), when she disappears or possibly dies. The “extinction” of the title is a reference to the death, the wiping out from the earth, of the author. Like a species driven to extinction in an ecosystem, the balance is disrupted. In her absence, order begins to break down. The translation team that once trusted one another implicitly begins to in-fight. They had previously relied on The Author to tell them what to do at each step, and now they’re left to their own devices. Competing philosophies of translation and preservation break out. A smug know-it-all newcomer begins to investigate. Various people have sex in violation of their vows. There are suspicions of poisoning. If you’re starting to think this sounds like The Name of the Rose, you’re on the right track.
As The Author remains missing, things go increasingly off the rails. A right-wing terrorist targets them (or maybe it’s just a random nutjob). The translation work summons up long-neglected Polish pagan gods (or maybe they’re just eccentric locals). Each translator takes a different approach. Emi is the most literal. Alexis is willing to be more dynamic, even willing to cut portions she doesn’t believe contribute to the narrative. The two appear not to like each other, taking shots at one another’s loose morals and proficiency with Polish in the text of the novel and the translator’s footnotes to the text. How much of Alexis’s actual personality and actions are conveyed in the novel? How much of Emi’s text did Alexis cut in the course of translating the novel? How is the reader to know? Is their mutual animosity all part of the kayfabe of promoting book sales?
We know that in in-universe real life, Irena is still alive and publishing. Is she “dead to” her team of translators who, at least according to Emi’s account, she has been subtly manipulating over their time working for her? Can we be sure did she really did any of that or is this again dramatization for Emi’s novel? Or is her “death” the collective work of the translators who have put their own words to her ideas, possibly warping her ideas in the process? Our Author is almost entirely silent, it’s left to us to determine.
Some random notes I took that could be meaningful but I didn’t have any organized thoughts about:
Irena’s holistic medicine is referred to as “intinctions” - weird word
Alexis
Major theme of consuming
“Forgive the parrot the natural instinct to consume” p 256
Snake “Innocently gorging itself on some innocent thing”
Speculation that Freddie began turning into a snake after being bitten
Emi is “consumed” by the men she sleeps with, taking on their personalities -does her urge to kill at the end of the book make her also part snake?
Fungus consuming dead material
Things consumed in fire
Pompeii Catalog
The whole world in global warming
Amadou can be used for kindling
The