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Ik herhaal je
221 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 2000
8 people are currently reading
111 people want to read
About the author
Ingrid Jonker
15 books38 followersJonker (pronounced yän`ker) grew up with her mother, grandmother and older sister, Anna. Her father, Abraham, never wanted to believe that she was his daughter and that Beatrice (Ingrid’s mother) had had an affair. Unfortunately, Beatrice was fairly unstable emotionally and although she was taken up in a mental institution, she died of cancer when Jonker was 11 years old. At the time, the women had moved from the family farm to Strand and from there to Gordonsbaai, where the girls were attending school. Their father came to fetch them and they had to leave their beloved grandmother behind for a stepmother.
After matriculating at an English high school, Jonker got married to Pieter Venter in 1956. Their daughter, Simone, was born the following year. In 1961 the marriage ended in divorce. By this time Jonker’s debut Ontvlugting had already appeared in print. In 1963 Rook en Oker appeared and she was awarded the Afrikaans Imprint Book Trade prize for it. Jonker used the prize money to travel overseas, but this ended in disaster. She met up with her then-lover, André P. Brink, in Barcelona. By the time they went to Paris, the relationship had become a see-saw of fighting and making up. She ended up at a mental institution there and was sent back to South Africa. Her other lover, Jack Cope, had gotten wind of Brink and didn’t want to pursue his relationship with her any further either.
Jonker couldn’t find work and was even trying to sell the rights of some of her poetry in order to feed herself and Simone. This, in addition to the political turmoil apartheid South Africa was in at the time, added to her emotional distress and she committed suicide by drowning in the ocean at Three Anchor Bay.
Jack Cope was instrumental in having the remainder of her poetry published as Kantelson in 1966. Other than a couple of short stories, Jonker was also the author of a drama entitled Seun na my hart.
After matriculating at an English high school, Jonker got married to Pieter Venter in 1956. Their daughter, Simone, was born the following year. In 1961 the marriage ended in divorce. By this time Jonker’s debut Ontvlugting had already appeared in print. In 1963 Rook en Oker appeared and she was awarded the Afrikaans Imprint Book Trade prize for it. Jonker used the prize money to travel overseas, but this ended in disaster. She met up with her then-lover, André P. Brink, in Barcelona. By the time they went to Paris, the relationship had become a see-saw of fighting and making up. She ended up at a mental institution there and was sent back to South Africa. Her other lover, Jack Cope, had gotten wind of Brink and didn’t want to pursue his relationship with her any further either.
Jonker couldn’t find work and was even trying to sell the rights of some of her poetry in order to feed herself and Simone. This, in addition to the political turmoil apartheid South Africa was in at the time, added to her emotional distress and she committed suicide by drowning in the ocean at Three Anchor Bay.
Jack Cope was instrumental in having the remainder of her poetry published as Kantelson in 1966. Other than a couple of short stories, Jonker was also the author of a drama entitled Seun na my hart.
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Displaying 1 - 16 of 16 reviews
May 12, 2018
So quintessential African, these poems! A refreshing discovery.
November 3, 2021
It wasn't easy for Jonker to get her poems published. Whether it be for political reasons or stylistic reasons, publishers refused her or changed her work before publishing it. Being silenced made her furious.
Jonker wasn't afraid to write poems contradicting the ideology of the National Party, despite her father being a leading voice for the NP. When she wrote 'Die kind', I wonder whether she doubted even for a second if she should publish it, knowing it would leave a dent in her father's reputation.
I'm endlessly glad she allowed the whole country to read it. Jonker wrote what she saw and knew that she had to use her gift to eternalize this bloodstained moment in history, to not let it slip through the narrow slits of written history.
Jonker uses all her senses to write and asks you politely to do so too, for you will miss out on the beauty of her poetry otherwise. She uses a uniquely-Jonker style that might seem odd at first, but I personally find it incredibly fascinating and inspiring.
Lastly, the biography added to the end of the book (almost half the book) gave me useful insights in her personal life. It was enjoyable to read, though if you really want to know who Ingrid Jonker was, you should start reading her poetry.
Jonker wasn't afraid to write poems contradicting the ideology of the National Party, despite her father being a leading voice for the NP. When she wrote 'Die kind', I wonder whether she doubted even for a second if she should publish it, knowing it would leave a dent in her father's reputation.
I'm endlessly glad she allowed the whole country to read it. Jonker wrote what she saw and knew that she had to use her gift to eternalize this bloodstained moment in history, to not let it slip through the narrow slits of written history.
Jonker uses all her senses to write and asks you politely to do so too, for you will miss out on the beauty of her poetry otherwise. She uses a uniquely-Jonker style that might seem odd at first, but I personally find it incredibly fascinating and inspiring.
Lastly, the biography added to the end of the book (almost half the book) gave me useful insights in her personal life. It was enjoyable to read, though if you really want to know who Ingrid Jonker was, you should start reading her poetry.
June 1, 2017
'Ik herhaal je' is een bundeling van de poëzie van de Zuid-Afrikaanse dichter Ingrid Jonker en een biografie. En die biografie is met name erg fijn en verhelderend. Lees eerst de gedichten in deze tweetalige bundeling, daarna de biografie. En nu komt-ie: ga dan terug naar de gedichten. Herinner je haar leven en wordt omvergeblazen door haar blik daarop in haar gedichten.
April 20, 2015
Een heel bijzonder boek, omdat het een dichtbundel en een korte biografie ineen is. Dat werkt heel goed, want door de achtergronden over het leven van Ingrid Jonker kun je de gedichten beter plaatsen. En door de gedichten raak je geïnteresseerd in de dichter. Het boek is eigenlijk het resultaat van drie geweldige schrijvers: gedichten van Ingrid Jonker in prachtig Afrikaans, mooie vertalingen van Gerrit Komrij en een genuanceerd en tragisch levensverhaal opgetekend door Henk van Woerden. Helaas zijn alle drie al overleden. Ik twijfel nu of ik de film Black butterflies toch ook moet gaan zien. Adviezen?
August 3, 2015
I got it as a present when I went to SA for a medical internship. Her poems are beautifull and it made my love for the Afrikaans language even bigger. She makes great use of this visualising language to adress dark issues of the mind. The biography makes it even more interesting to read
September 23, 2013
Prachtige gedichten. De prettig geschreven korte biografie schetst vooral de context waarbinnen de gedichten geschreven zijn en helpt daarmee de gedichten beter te kunnen duiden. Fijn.
July 13, 2020
I am sad now
January 12, 2023
I debated whether I should write this review. After all, I’m no poetry reader. I usually try to avoid it, especially books with shorter poems. Often, the meaning of the poems, the message escapes me. Something about me just wants to read as fast as possible, which doesn’t really work with poems. Though short they maybe, they need time. They need to be read over and over again.
Then I couldn’t decide whether I wanted to write this review in Dutch or English. The poems of Ingrid Jonker aren’t (currently) available in English, and I read the Afrikaans/Dutch version, with the Afrikaans original and Dutch translation side by side. But then, on the off-chance that some English language publisher sees this review and decides to pick it up, I’m writing it in English. Because I do believe these should be translated into more languages.
And, because I have 0 affinity with poetry and don’t think I’m a good judge for the quality of these poems, I am going to be writing this review based on my personal reading experience, rather than the qualities of this book (though I might have some opinions on the biography lol).
The story of Ingrid Jonker could very well be called a tragedy, which also seeps through especially in her later poems, which were published posthumously. A father who wanted nothing to do with her and a mother who died before her time, only to be taken into a house where her stepmother clearly didn’t want her. According to her biographist Henk van Woerden, this led some people to make up Cinderella-like stories, though those haven’t been proven to be true. A lost soul, is something that came to mind when I read her biography. Someone who can never truly find that feeling of home.
But she was an inspiring woman as well. She was openly critical of the South African government, as evidenced by her poem Die kind wat doodgeskiet is deur soldate by Nyanga (the child that was k*lled by soldiers by Nyanga). She was critical of the Apartheid system, which also led her to be critical of her own father and his policies as he climbed higher and higher in government.
Her life was one of loss. Of loss of that child who lived near the sea, who found true freedom there. The loss of her mother. The fear to lose her child, and the anxieties of motherhood. The loss of authority, when her friend put her into an institution over and over again, cause mental health wasn’t taken seriously enough. And of course, the loss of her own life at just 31 years old, leaving behind a daughter and a heartbroken sister. When Nelson Mandela became the first black South African president, it was her poem, translated into English, that he read.
Throughout life, she struggled to get her poems published. Opperman, who encouraged and mentored her, had her rewriting and editing her poems over and over again. They never were good enough. To some extent, I agree. Especially her earlier poems were more childlike, more simple. Her later poems, that ones published in Kantelson, are more mature, but with that a lot darker.
Though I enjoyed reading her poems, they didn’t quite hit that point that makes me go ‘wow’. To be fair to Ingrid, very little poems actually do (for me). Though what I will admit, is that I read the poems in Dutch rather than in Afrikaans, and despite Komrij’s best efforts, missed the intricacies and the rhythm because of that. But then I read her biography. I did find it lacking in some points; I would have liked for it to explore her relation to motherhood more, as she was so adamant to keep her daughter after her split with Pieter Venter, only to then go to Europe and spend evenings at friends’ houses. It also could have explored the impact of her mental health better; now it read as if she was constantly sent off to institutions, which she was, without mentioning the impact that sort of treatment might have had. Of course, mental health was still very stigmatized at the writing of this biography. But despite these criticisms, I did enjoy the biography. Van Woerden beautifully weaves the landscapes together, from the seascape to the big city. You thought yourself in Cape Town, in Johannesburg, in Gordons Bay. And, what I appreciated most from this biography, is that I found a new understanding for her poems. I read some of them after having read the biography, which I read last, and truly understood them now. I felt the anxiety of looming motherhood in Swanger Vrou, understood the sadness of Mamma and read the poems of Intieme Gesprek as what they were; whispers in bed, under the cover of night, for no one else but the one sleeping beside you to hear. And sometimes not even them, for it is only when they are asleep that you dare speak the truth. And maybe this just comes from me not being able to read poetry, but her biography did give me a better understanding, one I would have liked to have before.
Some poets can be read without knowing their life story. For some, it is irrelevant. But in the case of Ingrid Jonker, I think knowing the context of her life only ascribes power to the poems, strengthens them. They’re good in their own, but they become so much more meaningful when you know who she was because they are so connected to her, because they are so incredibly personal.
And that makes them all the more beautiful.
Then I couldn’t decide whether I wanted to write this review in Dutch or English. The poems of Ingrid Jonker aren’t (currently) available in English, and I read the Afrikaans/Dutch version, with the Afrikaans original and Dutch translation side by side. But then, on the off-chance that some English language publisher sees this review and decides to pick it up, I’m writing it in English. Because I do believe these should be translated into more languages.
And, because I have 0 affinity with poetry and don’t think I’m a good judge for the quality of these poems, I am going to be writing this review based on my personal reading experience, rather than the qualities of this book (though I might have some opinions on the biography lol).
The story of Ingrid Jonker could very well be called a tragedy, which also seeps through especially in her later poems, which were published posthumously. A father who wanted nothing to do with her and a mother who died before her time, only to be taken into a house where her stepmother clearly didn’t want her. According to her biographist Henk van Woerden, this led some people to make up Cinderella-like stories, though those haven’t been proven to be true. A lost soul, is something that came to mind when I read her biography. Someone who can never truly find that feeling of home.
But she was an inspiring woman as well. She was openly critical of the South African government, as evidenced by her poem Die kind wat doodgeskiet is deur soldate by Nyanga (the child that was k*lled by soldiers by Nyanga). She was critical of the Apartheid system, which also led her to be critical of her own father and his policies as he climbed higher and higher in government.
Her life was one of loss. Of loss of that child who lived near the sea, who found true freedom there. The loss of her mother. The fear to lose her child, and the anxieties of motherhood. The loss of authority, when her friend put her into an institution over and over again, cause mental health wasn’t taken seriously enough. And of course, the loss of her own life at just 31 years old, leaving behind a daughter and a heartbroken sister. When Nelson Mandela became the first black South African president, it was her poem, translated into English, that he read.
Throughout life, she struggled to get her poems published. Opperman, who encouraged and mentored her, had her rewriting and editing her poems over and over again. They never were good enough. To some extent, I agree. Especially her earlier poems were more childlike, more simple. Her later poems, that ones published in Kantelson, are more mature, but with that a lot darker.
Though I enjoyed reading her poems, they didn’t quite hit that point that makes me go ‘wow’. To be fair to Ingrid, very little poems actually do (for me). Though what I will admit, is that I read the poems in Dutch rather than in Afrikaans, and despite Komrij’s best efforts, missed the intricacies and the rhythm because of that. But then I read her biography. I did find it lacking in some points; I would have liked for it to explore her relation to motherhood more, as she was so adamant to keep her daughter after her split with Pieter Venter, only to then go to Europe and spend evenings at friends’ houses. It also could have explored the impact of her mental health better; now it read as if she was constantly sent off to institutions, which she was, without mentioning the impact that sort of treatment might have had. Of course, mental health was still very stigmatized at the writing of this biography. But despite these criticisms, I did enjoy the biography. Van Woerden beautifully weaves the landscapes together, from the seascape to the big city. You thought yourself in Cape Town, in Johannesburg, in Gordons Bay. And, what I appreciated most from this biography, is that I found a new understanding for her poems. I read some of them after having read the biography, which I read last, and truly understood them now. I felt the anxiety of looming motherhood in Swanger Vrou, understood the sadness of Mamma and read the poems of Intieme Gesprek as what they were; whispers in bed, under the cover of night, for no one else but the one sleeping beside you to hear. And sometimes not even them, for it is only when they are asleep that you dare speak the truth. And maybe this just comes from me not being able to read poetry, but her biography did give me a better understanding, one I would have liked to have before.
Some poets can be read without knowing their life story. For some, it is irrelevant. But in the case of Ingrid Jonker, I think knowing the context of her life only ascribes power to the poems, strengthens them. They’re good in their own, but they become so much more meaningful when you know who she was because they are so connected to her, because they are so incredibly personal.
And that makes them all the more beautiful.
October 2, 2024
rip ingrid jonker, you would have loved thermae 2000, johannes kerkorrel, and woolies butternut soup.
wonderlike gedigte, maar ek is rerig nie mal oor die nederlandse vertalings nie. bv. die eerste gedig: daar is ‘n groot verskil tussen “kerf swastikas in ‘n rooikransboom” en “kerf er runen in een wilgenboom”. met daai klein verandering verloor jy só baie trefkrag en betekenis.
omdat nederlands en afrikaans so naby aan mekaar is moet mens maar wonder hoekom hulle ooit die gedigte probeer vertaal het.
wonderlike gedigte, maar ek is rerig nie mal oor die nederlandse vertalings nie. bv. die eerste gedig: daar is ‘n groot verskil tussen “kerf swastikas in ‘n rooikransboom” en “kerf er runen in een wilgenboom”. met daai klein verandering verloor jy só baie trefkrag en betekenis.
omdat nederlands en afrikaans so naby aan mekaar is moet mens maar wonder hoekom hulle ooit die gedigte probeer vertaal het.
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February 16, 2022Uitgeleend aan Titi
December 30, 2011
Beautiful poems, tragic life
March 2, 2015
Een heel waardevolle bundel. Door de onthutsende levensbeschrijving raken de gedichten je meer.
March 25, 2016
Alleen de dichtbundel gelezen, voor de cursus 'wereldliteratuur'. Niet mijn ding, maar het Zuid-Afrikaans is wel mooi en hier en daar springt er een gedicht uit.
May 20, 2016
Reading Around The Globe: South-Africa
August 31, 2014
Mooiste poëzie die ik ken
Displaying 1 - 16 of 16 reviews