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Flame in the Snow: The Love Letters of André Brink & Ingrid Jonker
In a telegram sent on 29 April 1963, Ingrid Jonker thanks André Brink for his letter and flowers. They had met a few days before. He was almost twenty- eight; she thirty. This was the beginning of a correspondence between two writers that lasted up until three months before Jonker drowned herself at Three Anchor Bay. Half a century later, their love letters are published here for the first time. In more than two hundred letters that have never been seen before, a gripping love affair unfolds.
544 pages, Kindle Edition
Published December 4, 2015
38 people are currently reading
259 people want to read
About the author
André Brink
116 books259 followersAndré Philippus Brink was a South African novelist. He wrote in Afrikaans and English and was until his retirement a Professor of English Literature at the University of Cape Town.
In the 1960s, he and Breyten Breytenbach were key figures in the Afrikaans literary movement known as Die Sestigers ("The Sixty-ers"). These writers sought to use Afrikaans as a language to speak against the apartheid government, and also to bring into Afrikaans literature the influence of contemporary English and French trends. His novel Kennis van die aand (1973) was the first Afrikaans book to be banned by the South African government.
Brink's early novels were often concerned with the apartheid policy. His final works engaged new issues raised by life in postapartheid South Africa.
In the 1960s, he and Breyten Breytenbach were key figures in the Afrikaans literary movement known as Die Sestigers ("The Sixty-ers"). These writers sought to use Afrikaans as a language to speak against the apartheid government, and also to bring into Afrikaans literature the influence of contemporary English and French trends. His novel Kennis van die aand (1973) was the first Afrikaans book to be banned by the South African government.
Brink's early novels were often concerned with the apartheid policy. His final works engaged new issues raised by life in postapartheid South Africa.
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Displaying 1 - 16 of 16 reviews
June 25, 2017
Flame in the Snow: The Love Letters of André Brink & Ingrid Jonker was on my must-read list the moment I heard about the book. But a bit of back-story. Ingrid Jonker was always a semi-mythic figure to me. I first heard about her when we studied her writing during high school. It was a short story of hers – "Die Bok" (The Goat) which haunted me even back then. Yet her poetry always struck me as vivid, somehow more vibrant than many of the other poets we studied. My mom and I always disagree about our love of Jonker's writing, but then again, my mom also takes a dim view of Jonker's affair with Brink, so it could be a personal issues that cloud her appreciation of her writing.
I later encountered Jonker's work again when I was studying a languages module through Unisa, which only made me realise even more what an important contribution Jonker made to South African literature. There is little doubt in my mind that she was a perceptive, highly sensitive individual with the talent of shaping words in such a way that she can encapsulate an entire scene in a few brush strokes.
Brink himself is justifiably one of the great lights of South African literature who has contributed much over the years, and it is to my eternal regret that I never did get round to meeting him before his passing, so it was with great curiosity that I approached this collection of their letters.
Looking at how communication has changed, it's doubtful that we'll have such a legacy to fall back on in the future (unless someone is willing to trawl authors' social media posts and private emails to try reconstitute coherent communication). But even then, what we have collected offers us an almost voyeuristic glimpse into the private world of two highly creative, expressive individuals, who saw and felt their existences in exquisite, painful detail at times.
Part of me became quite frustrated while I read. I wanted to yell at them that if their lives were so unbearable, why didn't they just take the plunge and move mountains to be with each other. But I guess hindsight is 20/20. I don't think either of them could have predicted the outcome, and I fear that when you have two passionate people as Jonker and Brink were, you're bound to get fire in its destructive aspect. Both were ... complicated ... and their relationship was wracked with intense highs and awful nadirs.
It galled Brink that Jonker still maintained her previous relationship yet by equal measure, he was incapable of leaving his wife, despite his assurances to Jonker that he was no longer intimate with the mother of his child.
Yet what this collection of letters also does it it demystifies Jonker and Brink. We see them as humans, in their unguarded, often tender moments for each other, as they ponder their existence, as they share their hopes and dreams, and also their great fears. The last letter, from Brink, also pierces deeply – a cold, hard statement. I won't spoil it, but it dashed cold water in my face.
I can't help but imagine what Jonker's last hours were like, the moments that led up to her walk into the wintry Atlantic in Cape Town's Three Anchor Bay. It was a death foreshadowed in her poem "Ontvlugting":
My lyk lê uitgespoel in wier en gras
op al die plekke waar ons eenmaal was.
(My body is washed up in seaweed and grass
at all the places where we once were) – please excuse my rough, rough translation.
To have read Jonker and Brink's intimacies has, to a degree, tumbled them off their pedestal for me. They were just people, with their faults. Their words in this book are a time capsule, that takes readers back to the past, to get a glimpse into what it was like for writers back then. I had to have a quiet smile to myself, because so much of the politics among South African writers that I've seen first hand was very much a thing back then too – some things don't change, apparently. This was a lovely read, and at some point I think I'd like to pick up the Afrikaans version of the book, as I wonder how much of the communication was lost in the translation. Either way, I still feel as if I've grown in my understanding of the two, which will most certainly inform my further reading of their work.
I later encountered Jonker's work again when I was studying a languages module through Unisa, which only made me realise even more what an important contribution Jonker made to South African literature. There is little doubt in my mind that she was a perceptive, highly sensitive individual with the talent of shaping words in such a way that she can encapsulate an entire scene in a few brush strokes.
Brink himself is justifiably one of the great lights of South African literature who has contributed much over the years, and it is to my eternal regret that I never did get round to meeting him before his passing, so it was with great curiosity that I approached this collection of their letters.
Looking at how communication has changed, it's doubtful that we'll have such a legacy to fall back on in the future (unless someone is willing to trawl authors' social media posts and private emails to try reconstitute coherent communication). But even then, what we have collected offers us an almost voyeuristic glimpse into the private world of two highly creative, expressive individuals, who saw and felt their existences in exquisite, painful detail at times.
Part of me became quite frustrated while I read. I wanted to yell at them that if their lives were so unbearable, why didn't they just take the plunge and move mountains to be with each other. But I guess hindsight is 20/20. I don't think either of them could have predicted the outcome, and I fear that when you have two passionate people as Jonker and Brink were, you're bound to get fire in its destructive aspect. Both were ... complicated ... and their relationship was wracked with intense highs and awful nadirs.
It galled Brink that Jonker still maintained her previous relationship yet by equal measure, he was incapable of leaving his wife, despite his assurances to Jonker that he was no longer intimate with the mother of his child.
Yet what this collection of letters also does it it demystifies Jonker and Brink. We see them as humans, in their unguarded, often tender moments for each other, as they ponder their existence, as they share their hopes and dreams, and also their great fears. The last letter, from Brink, also pierces deeply – a cold, hard statement. I won't spoil it, but it dashed cold water in my face.
I can't help but imagine what Jonker's last hours were like, the moments that led up to her walk into the wintry Atlantic in Cape Town's Three Anchor Bay. It was a death foreshadowed in her poem "Ontvlugting":
My lyk lê uitgespoel in wier en gras
op al die plekke waar ons eenmaal was.
(My body is washed up in seaweed and grass
at all the places where we once were) – please excuse my rough, rough translation.
To have read Jonker and Brink's intimacies has, to a degree, tumbled them off their pedestal for me. They were just people, with their faults. Their words in this book are a time capsule, that takes readers back to the past, to get a glimpse into what it was like for writers back then. I had to have a quiet smile to myself, because so much of the politics among South African writers that I've seen first hand was very much a thing back then too – some things don't change, apparently. This was a lovely read, and at some point I think I'd like to pick up the Afrikaans version of the book, as I wonder how much of the communication was lost in the translation. Either way, I still feel as if I've grown in my understanding of the two, which will most certainly inform my further reading of their work.
January 3, 2016
I read this book with reverence and a sense of duty, out of huge respect and admiration for the writers. I was impressed, moved, frustrated and confused. The book comes at you like Ravel's Bolero, passionate, repetitive, obsessive. There isn't much of a story, and if you are familiar with their lives, you know how things unfolded anyway. What you read is what they shared in letters. It was a very painful love affair, searingly intense emotionally and physically. It was also a meeting of minds, and the extent to which they influenced one another's work is a revelation. The unravelling of their love is devastating to read. The ending is abrupt, and the reader mentally fills in Ingrid's reaction to losing André to another woman. In all honesty, I can't say that I enjoyed reading the book, but I walk away with what seems to be a better understanding of the authors. I hadn't realised how constrained they were by the rigid so-called morality of the time, and I don't understand why this was so when they were both such free-thinking liberal people in other ways. But so it was. I am very glad I read this.
January 29, 2016
Flame in the Snow: The Love Letters of André Brink & Ingrid Jonker, is a collection of letters and telegrams between two of South Africa's greatest writers. We read about their romantic liaisons, their everyday lives, their innermost secrets, and more. It's a look into the thoughts and emotions shared by two literary marvels in a time when South Africa was experiencing political turbulence. These letters and telegrams are provocative and beautiful and sometimes downright literary.
Here's the thing, though: While I read Flame in the Snow, it sometimes felt as if I was invading the privacy of the dead. It's not that I didn't like it, oh no, I loved it. And yet, there was this needling part of me that said: "Stop! This is not for your eyes. These letters, these telegrams, is someone's diary. Close it, close it now!" I mean, I have a letter box (technically a Tinkerbell suitcase), filled with old letters from my ex-boyfriends from primary and high school. Inside, there are some Valentine's Day cards, some Spice Girl memorabilia (I loved the Spice Girls, and I still do to some extent), and some other stuff ... but I don't think I could ever allow anyone else entry to that box. It's mine. It's part of my life, you know? It's childish bullshit, yes, but it's my childish bullshit. So, although I found it difficult to sometimes enjoy these compiled letters between Ingrid Jonker and Andre Brink, due to some indoctrinated No! I cannot, in good conscious, say it didn't give me some brilliant insight.
The rest of the world may not know who these two writers were, but that is inconsequential. The fact is, this is a great book that gives people a glimpse into the lives of writers. Yes, not all writers - even South African ones - are quite as exciting, but you get a whiff of their personal processes. They talk about their work, their dreams, their emotional problems. It's all very scandalous at times.
Flame in the Snow: The Love Letters of André Brink & Ingrid Jonker is translated to English from Afrikaans, beautifully. This hardback non-fiction romance has some glossy pages of some of the actual letters, written in their hands, and even a few photographs. Furthermore, it's utterly riveting. Once I picked it up, I couldn't put it down! Not to mention, it's memorable.
If you're looking for something non-fiction and romantic in nature, especially if you're doing a reading challenge this year, you need to get your hands on this book. You will not be disappointed.
Review originally posted on:
Here's the thing, though: While I read Flame in the Snow, it sometimes felt as if I was invading the privacy of the dead. It's not that I didn't like it, oh no, I loved it. And yet, there was this needling part of me that said: "Stop! This is not for your eyes. These letters, these telegrams, is someone's diary. Close it, close it now!" I mean, I have a letter box (technically a Tinkerbell suitcase), filled with old letters from my ex-boyfriends from primary and high school. Inside, there are some Valentine's Day cards, some Spice Girl memorabilia (I loved the Spice Girls, and I still do to some extent), and some other stuff ... but I don't think I could ever allow anyone else entry to that box. It's mine. It's part of my life, you know? It's childish bullshit, yes, but it's my childish bullshit. So, although I found it difficult to sometimes enjoy these compiled letters between Ingrid Jonker and Andre Brink, due to some indoctrinated No! I cannot, in good conscious, say it didn't give me some brilliant insight.
The rest of the world may not know who these two writers were, but that is inconsequential. The fact is, this is a great book that gives people a glimpse into the lives of writers. Yes, not all writers - even South African ones - are quite as exciting, but you get a whiff of their personal processes. They talk about their work, their dreams, their emotional problems. It's all very scandalous at times.
Flame in the Snow: The Love Letters of André Brink & Ingrid Jonker is translated to English from Afrikaans, beautifully. This hardback non-fiction romance has some glossy pages of some of the actual letters, written in their hands, and even a few photographs. Furthermore, it's utterly riveting. Once I picked it up, I couldn't put it down! Not to mention, it's memorable.
If you're looking for something non-fiction and romantic in nature, especially if you're doing a reading challenge this year, you need to get your hands on this book. You will not be disappointed.
Review originally posted on:
August 21, 2017
Nieuwsgierig naar het liefdesrelaas tussen Jonker & Brink, en naar een (hun) schets van de Afrikaanse literaire wereld van de jaren '60, begon ik de briefwisseling te lezen. Geen idee hebbende dat het zó onderhoudend en ontroerend zou zijn.
'Mijn kamertje hier is warm en eenzaam en op de muren van mijn verveling schrijf ik je naam.' I.J., 10 maart 1964
NB Ik ben de vertalers dankbaar dat zij (i.t.t. de Afrikaanse en Engelse variant) wél kozen voor een notenapparaat. Hier heb ik graag gebruik van gemaakt.
Kanttekening: Helaas kloppen niet alle verwijzingen en had ik graag een aantal Afrikaanse termen nog verklaard gezien.
'Mijn kamertje hier is warm en eenzaam en op de muren van mijn verveling schrijf ik je naam.' I.J., 10 maart 1964
NB Ik ben de vertalers dankbaar dat zij (i.t.t. de Afrikaanse en Engelse variant) wél kozen voor een notenapparaat. Hier heb ik graag gebruik van gemaakt.
Kanttekening: Helaas kloppen niet alle verwijzingen en had ik graag een aantal Afrikaanse termen nog verklaard gezien.
November 1, 2016
Ek het 'n boheemse liefdesverhaal verwag - en die werklikheid is onsamehangende briewe wat buite konteks aanmekaar geplak is en 'n alewige gekerm oor hoe swaar die lewe is. Ek moes myself forseer om klaar te lees. Werklik telleurstellend.
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June 4, 2016Sometimes it does not feel appropriate to take out quotes. This is one of those times.
December 1, 2019
I've been living the correspondence between the precious poet Ingrid Jonker, who engraved her name within my heart l, and the novelist André Brink for few months now and I'm somehow utterly hurt that this journey is over.
I think over this I realised how much Ingrid and I are similar. Though I lack the talent and I'm only an amateurish poet, I connected with her cavernously. I felt her pain, her longing, her exhaustion.. How she struggled to live, how she loved. André as well, I think I also found myself in his words. Their love story is probably a big controversy; there's so much going on between the two lovers and their lives were full of hurdles and longing, unfulfilled lust, and love. There was so much pain as much as there was beauty and tenderness.
I didn't initially plan to write anything, but seeing that I felt a void in me.. Some harrowing gap within me chest, I thought I should at least say a few words.
André and Ingrid loved, lived and struggled together for months and months and months and I suppose I connected with their struggle more than I thought I would.
Eventually things gets harder, both make more mistakes, life becomes hell. Their love couldn't take it and Ingrid walks into the sea.
A precious poet she was.. I think I'll miss her although I've only know her life through her letters, and what letters they were.. What letters they were.
I think over this I realised how much Ingrid and I are similar. Though I lack the talent and I'm only an amateurish poet, I connected with her cavernously. I felt her pain, her longing, her exhaustion.. How she struggled to live, how she loved. André as well, I think I also found myself in his words. Their love story is probably a big controversy; there's so much going on between the two lovers and their lives were full of hurdles and longing, unfulfilled lust, and love. There was so much pain as much as there was beauty and tenderness.
I didn't initially plan to write anything, but seeing that I felt a void in me.. Some harrowing gap within me chest, I thought I should at least say a few words.
André and Ingrid loved, lived and struggled together for months and months and months and I suppose I connected with their struggle more than I thought I would.
Eventually things gets harder, both make more mistakes, life becomes hell. Their love couldn't take it and Ingrid walks into the sea.
A precious poet she was.. I think I'll miss her although I've only know her life through her letters, and what letters they were.. What letters they were.
July 4, 2017
Het verloop van de relatie tussen Ingrid Jonker (gescheiden met kind) en André Brink (getrouwd met kind) is goed af te leiden uit de brieven die ze elkaar sturen in de periode 1963 en 1965. Aanvankelijk hartstochtelijk, zeer verliefd en gepassioneerd, later, na een moeizaam verlopen reis van hen samen naar Parijs en Barcelona, getroebleerd, gereserveerd. De brieven lopen over van poëzie en lyriek, maar ook van geilheid (Brink) en weemoed (Jonker), al komen ook de dagelijkse besognes meer en meer op de voorgrond.
Interessant is ook wat niet naar voren komt in de brieven: de politieke situatie in Zuid Afrika. Jonker is de dochter van de vooraanstaand politicus Abraham H. Jonker en voorvechter van Apartheid. Na het bloedbad in Sharpville in 1960 neemt Jonker stelling met het gedicht "Die kind (wat doodgeskiet is door soldaten bij Nyanga)".
Het is dit gedicht, dat Nelson Mandela voorleest bij de opening in 1994 van het eerste, democratisch gekozen parlement in Zuid Afrika, na de afschaffing van de Apartheid.
Interessant is ook wat niet naar voren komt in de brieven: de politieke situatie in Zuid Afrika. Jonker is de dochter van de vooraanstaand politicus Abraham H. Jonker en voorvechter van Apartheid. Na het bloedbad in Sharpville in 1960 neemt Jonker stelling met het gedicht "Die kind (wat doodgeskiet is door soldaten bij Nyanga)".
Het is dit gedicht, dat Nelson Mandela voorleest bij de opening in 1994 van het eerste, democratisch gekozen parlement in Zuid Afrika, na de afschaffing van de Apartheid.
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March 29, 2017It is common knowledge that the brilliant poet, Ingrid Jonker drowned herself in the 1960s. But until these letters, I was unaware that this happened just three months after the final letter from her lover, novelist, Andre Brink. It felt somewhat voyeuristic, to be reading such personal and explicit letters. I found the book disturbing; at times it filled me with outrage and sorrow. But it was also fascinating, passionate, and beautiful. Not only full of gorgeous love poems (by Brink and Jonker and they quote others), but also insight into the world of writers in general, and the political experiences of anti-establishment Afrikaans writers in the sixties. —Sally Andrew (https://www.bookish.com/articles/sall...)
December 28, 2015
Exquisite.
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June 12, 2016I was entranced! Knowing there would not be a "happily ever after" I desperately wanted to know how they reached the end. Now I know!
July 13, 2016
I've waited for this book with such anticipation!! When I finally got it I started reading immediately. I was so "inlove" with their being inlove. I really wished that they did take their relationship further, but of course they respected certain parties in their own lives.
They originality of the letters is just amazing. I talked repeatedly about this book to everyone, and even started to feel that longing that they both felt for each other.
When I finally came to the end it was a shocker, I was disappointed for a while but finally came over it. Ingrid Jonker & André P. Brink is the 2 writers I look up to the most, Ingrid's poems and André's novels are truly amazing... This book is really worth reading even if you don't like these 2 its a gap in history everyone should know about.
They originality of the letters is just amazing. I talked repeatedly about this book to everyone, and even started to feel that longing that they both felt for each other.
When I finally came to the end it was a shocker, I was disappointed for a while but finally came over it. Ingrid Jonker & André P. Brink is the 2 writers I look up to the most, Ingrid's poems and André's novels are truly amazing... This book is really worth reading even if you don't like these 2 its a gap in history everyone should know about.
June 30, 2023
"Flame in the Snow" is an extraordinary testament to the power of love, art, and the human spirit. This captivating book unveils the private correspondence between two literary luminaries of South Africa, A.P. Brink and I. Jonker, whose passionate letters were never intended for public consumption. The fact that these intimate exchanges have been made available to the world has profoundly impacted my life, leaving an indelible mark on my heart and soul.
Within the pages of this meticulously curated collection, we are granted a rare glimpse into the profound connection that existed between Brink and Jonker. Their letters form a tapestry of emotions—love, desire, longing, and vulnerability—that transcend time and space. Each letter carries the weight of their souls, baring their innermost thoughts and exposing the depth of their affection for one another.
The beauty of "Flame in the Snow" lies not only in the love shared between these two literary giants but also in the extraordinary talent that emanates from their words. Brink and Jonker's prose possesses a lyrical quality, painting vivid images of the South African landscape, their shared experiences, and their devotion to their craft. Their letters become a symphony of language, a testament to their literary prowess and their ability to capture the human experience with breathtaking clarity.
Reading "Flame in the Snow" has forever changed my perception of love and art. The profound connection between Brink and Jonker transcends their personal lives, reminding us of the enduring power of love and the indomitable spirit of creativity. Their letters have opened my eyes to the transformative nature of love and the potential for profound connections to shape our lives and leave an everlasting impact.
In conclusion, "Flame in the Snow" is a remarkable literary work that allows us to witness the raw, unfiltered love between A.P. Brink and I. Jonker. This deeply moving collection of letters has changed my life, forever imprinting upon me the power of love, the beauty of South African literature, and the everlasting impact of two souls intertwined. It is a treasure to be cherished, an exquisite testament to the resilience of the human spirit.
Within the pages of this meticulously curated collection, we are granted a rare glimpse into the profound connection that existed between Brink and Jonker. Their letters form a tapestry of emotions—love, desire, longing, and vulnerability—that transcend time and space. Each letter carries the weight of their souls, baring their innermost thoughts and exposing the depth of their affection for one another.
The beauty of "Flame in the Snow" lies not only in the love shared between these two literary giants but also in the extraordinary talent that emanates from their words. Brink and Jonker's prose possesses a lyrical quality, painting vivid images of the South African landscape, their shared experiences, and their devotion to their craft. Their letters become a symphony of language, a testament to their literary prowess and their ability to capture the human experience with breathtaking clarity.
Reading "Flame in the Snow" has forever changed my perception of love and art. The profound connection between Brink and Jonker transcends their personal lives, reminding us of the enduring power of love and the indomitable spirit of creativity. Their letters have opened my eyes to the transformative nature of love and the potential for profound connections to shape our lives and leave an everlasting impact.
In conclusion, "Flame in the Snow" is a remarkable literary work that allows us to witness the raw, unfiltered love between A.P. Brink and I. Jonker. This deeply moving collection of letters has changed my life, forever imprinting upon me the power of love, the beauty of South African literature, and the everlasting impact of two souls intertwined. It is a treasure to be cherished, an exquisite testament to the resilience of the human spirit.
March 20, 2019
The late Prof Bink was one of my lecturers when i was a student at Rhodes University. Reading this felt a little like eavesdropping on my old professor’s former life. I was angry with him at the end for the way he treated her. Ending the relationship by letter instead of face to face demeaned him in my eyes, but then we would never have known his thoughts because there would have been no letter. I live a short walk from Three Anchor Bay where Ingrid committed suicide three months after receiving that letter, so it feels very real and immediate even all these years later. It was a hard read at times. A long distance relationship between two literary geniuses is doomed to be fraught. The highs of togetherness and the long agonizing periods apart. But perhaps that distance is what defined their relationship. It made two legendary South African writers to be very accessible.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
March 17, 2016
Ek het aanvanklik die boek begin lees en na 'n paar briewe kon ek die gekoer en gekweel nie uitstaan nie. Ek het egter die boekbekendstelling gaan bywoon, waar Karina, Breyten, Simone en Francis Galloway was. Die gesprek het my toe aangespoor om verder te lees. Ek het egter nie van mening verander nie. Ek dink dat die samesteller die briewe strenger moes redigeer/ reduseer het en die groot gapings met die werklike gebeure ingevul het. Ek moes Louise Viljoen se biografie van Brink gebruik om die gate in te vul.
Mens het baie vrae oor die outentiekheid van 'n minnaar wat sy briewe op deurslagpapier skryf.
Mens het baie vrae oor die outentiekheid van 'n minnaar wat sy briewe op deurslagpapier skryf.
August 5, 2019
We
For André
In this way you will die off of me
In your futile seed
Naked like water___a burning shimmer
Like late
April
Like hands___naked
Lovely as mortality
As a final word
Sad as blood
No little one
Only
This little death
Tomorrow the burning shimmer of our un-
Begotten seed___tomorrow
Dawn the blossoms
New girls like virgins
Tomorrow
You die___and I
Ingrid Jonker
For André
In this way you will die off of me
In your futile seed
Naked like water___a burning shimmer
Like late
April
Like hands___naked
Lovely as mortality
As a final word
Sad as blood
No little one
Only
This little death
Tomorrow the burning shimmer of our un-
Begotten seed___tomorrow
Dawn the blossoms
New girls like virgins
Tomorrow
You die___and I
Ingrid Jonker
Displaying 1 - 16 of 16 reviews