Nadine Gordimer was small and neat, with a bird-like vivacity and intensity. She talked as precisely as she wrote, telling stories dramatically, with acute observation and curiosity. But her sharp intelligence concealed a warmth and involvement that enriched her friends and gave her writing a deep compassion.
Her second husband, Reinhold, gave Nadine security and constant support, and she shared his love of the high veld, shooting and travelling. Together they rented an old-fashioned house in Parktown, near Johannesburg city centre, with a charming hilltop garden overlooking leafy suburbs. It was a Chekhovian house, Nadine liked to explain, apparently dominated by dogs and cats, where they resisted any pressures to modernise. The austere furniture, bare floorboards and primitive kitchen contrasted with impressionist pictures hung casually.
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