Nadine Gordimer
Nadine Gordimer
Nadine Gordimerwas a South African writer, political activist and recipient of the 1991 Nobel Prize in Literature. She was recognized as a woman "who through her magnificent epic writing has – in the words of Alfred Nobel – been of very great benefit to humanity"...
NationalitySouth African
ProfessionNovelist
Date of Birth20 November 1923
birthday people giving
People give one another things that can't be gift wrapped.
hearing keenness revive
Keenness of hearing revives when one is alone.
essentials faculty androgynous
when it comes to their essential faculty as writers, all writers are androgynous beings.
taken loss preparation
it's impossible to conquer all fear and loss by preparation. There are always sources of desolation that aren't taken into account because no one knows what they will be.
white firsts would-be
If one will always have to feel white first, and African second, it would be better not to stay on in Africa
looks would-be canyons
Writers themselves don't analyze what they do; to analyze would be to look down while crossing a canyon on a tightrope.
church entering crosses
Mumbling obeisance to abhorrence of apartheid is like those lapsed believers who cross themselves when entering a church.
survival different wagers
In various and different circumstances certain objects and individuals are going to turn out to be vital. The wager of survival cannot, by its nature, reveal which, in advance of events.
evil good-and-evil cases
You can't be afraid to do good in case evil results.
single-life way fiction
Fiction is a way of exploring possibilities present but undreamt of in the living of a single life.
next bleach bonsai
Sentiment is for those who don't know what to do next.
tension standing-apart standing
The tension between standing apart, and being fully involved; that is what makes a writer.
genius censorship fragments
Exile as a mode of genius no longer exists; in place of Joyce we have the fragments of work appearing in Index on Censorship.
beautiful writing light
Any writer of any worth at all hopes to play only a pocket-torch of light - and rarely, through genius, a sudden flambeau - into the bloody yet beautiful labyrinth of human experience, of being.