Gnossienne Launch Report

"Where are you going again?"

Sumthing Sumthing restaurant in Parktown North.

"Uh-huh…Okay well what's the event?"

It's a book launch.

"What book?"

I have no idea how to pronounce it.

"Why can't you just give me a straight answer?"

…

Sho, mothers am I right?

'Proverbial crowd coos and hollers on cue.'

Anyway

* * *

On the 8th of January in the year our Lord 2026, I, culturally superior [ironic] reporter [semi-ironic] sauntered [empirically true] my way to Sumthing Sumthing [a restaurant in Parktown Quarter] for the book launch of the second issue of Gnossienne [a title whose pronunciation is not immediately apparent].

Why is it always a Thursday night for these things? It's a work night and Friday is right there ffs.

Anyway

* * *

It's 10 minutes to 6pm so I'm early 'CUZ UR WHITE' as my dear boss would interject.

He doesn't though because he didn't come. A shame as he would have adored the scene laid out just past the entrance of Sumthing Sumthing.

It's a COURTYARD

/Vibe: very hip-/

/Physical Landscape:

on the right is a bar that extends inward all along the rectangular main building

Seating area for presentation inside is intimate

Translation: I am risking Covid to cover a book launch

Forward and past the courtyard is a, uhh, umm a VINYL ROOM?

/Vibe: very hop-/

/Physical Contents:

didn't bother to look

/Critical Analysis:

I think you can buy Vinyl from a restaurant's courtyard in Parktown Quarter.

Then you know, the other stuff:

A Kitchen

Male and female bathrooms. Well, separate excrement depositary rooms. The wash basin is shared and…open plan?

-area to check for boogers in private not found-

POINTS DEDUCTED

Anyway

* * *

/Ethnic Landscape:

Zebra colour coded

/Interpretation:

Tribalism within a homogenous space

Source of boss's theoretical adoration

Source of my actual amusement

Source of writing material

/Whites desc.

30-something rich kids repping poverty-chic

flaunting expensive jewellery

pronating up and down in skater shoes

/Overheard dialogue:

"yeah"- "yeaaah"- "yeahhh"

/Analysis: Capetonian [derogatory].-/

Group not here for a hard to pronounce book are playing a board game and drinking IPAs.

/Analysis: people unwind and connect with their friends in different ways. Sharing a drink over a boardgame is one such way.-/

…

They're all smoking weed.

/Critical Analysis: These people are twats.-/

* * *

/Blacks desc.

30-something or other creatives and corporates intermingled

secluded to the outside perimeter

On edge. Alert.

/Overheard dialogue:

"wow"- "wowww"- "She also stopped drinking" [derogatory]

/AMENDMENT:

subjects were waiting for the plug

/New desc.

Everyone is smoking weed

/Analysis: weed smells like shit and so do the people who smoke it.-/

/Critical Analysis: I am surrounded by smokers, potheads and people who order whisky to pick the ice out of and place in their white wine.-/

/Conclusion: I am superior to everyone here.-/

Anyway

* * *

It's 6-30-sumthing and the event hasn't started yet. A short black man in practical clothing and sporting a Garmin watch approaches my observational perch [bench].

"May I sit here?"

"Please do."

I ask him his name and put my listening face on.

"Khulekani."

"Leo."

We share the view as well as our theories on the participants' motivations for being here.

"Why are you here?"- I ask.

"I saw an ad on Instagram, I'm trying to get my own publication off the ground, so I thought I'd check it out.''

"And you?" He returns the question.

"I write inflammatory reports on South African culture.''

"Cool."

-serendipitous meeting experienced-

POINTS ADDED

I like Khulekani.

The man was even so kind as to save me a seat while I tried to get a drink.

Not easy but I manage to order a basil sumthing sumthing or other mocktail for R50,00.

The event starts so I join my new friend and after a while a waitress brings me my drink.

I hand her a R50 note, she takes it and says she'll bring me the bill.

"Okay?"

Bill is for R55,00.

I fish out some coins and even tip her an extra R5 for charging me more than what was listed.

I take a sip of my drink.

It tastes good.

I take another and it's finished.

POINTS DEDUCTED

I cradle my cup of expensive ice and try to focus on the PRESENTATION.

/Pronunciation of Gnossienne:

Nɔ.sjɛn [like 'Nissen' with an extra 'i' inserted between the s and the 'e']

/Book's contents:

Literature compilation of local and international talents' submissions based off "surface" as a prompt

Surface is the theme of the book

Like Discontent vol.1?

No [sort of].

/Event: TED Talk sitting down.-/

desc.

Editor and chief Jess and her business partner speak to the crowd about independent publishing before reading exerts from the book.

Points heard:

"Publishing as an art practice, not exactly like making art but rather…CHAKA CHAKA CHAKA

"We understand language as a route" [root?]
CHAKA CHAKA CHAKA

"The foreword explores the idea of peeling, that in discarding one surface another is gained and that's just such a seminal idea for me, that in losing there is becoming…"
CHAKA CHAKA CHAKA

Jess then went on to read one part of a poem exchanged between lovers, translated from its original Arabic. Not before sharing more truisms over the sounds of uncaring bartenders shaking cocktails or mocktails or ice surprises.

"In translating things are gained… things are lost…"

As she started reading, the bar must have received a large order as the shaking and splashing fully drowned out my ability to hear the verses.

After that I only caught snippets:

"Before meaning is interacted with…surface is…"

"Fidelity is not equivalence."

Then:

"Difference in sameness, sameness in difference."

I noticed all the white men in their well-considered dishevelled outfits nodding and agreeing with that one. It takes a lot of money to make being unkempt a fashion statement and maybe I'm an angry broke boi, but I couldn't find a single differentiating feature on any one of them.

Khulekani, on the other hand, was wearing the same listening face I had showed him earlier, but his attempts to take notes and earnestly listen were short-lived and replaced with boredom.

I couldn't blame him.

Mystification and obfuscation aren't exact synonyms, but they live on the same road and see each other at least once a week. Usually on a Thursday night for sumthing or other cultural intrigue demanding to be considered as more than what it is.

And for some, big words and pretention to the point of abstraction is titillating and worth staying out for on a Thursday evening.

I just find the experience tiresome.

POINTS DEDUCTED

Anyway

* * *

Gnossienne, the actual book, stands on its own merits. The value of its written content is subjective, but Jess's execution of the design and layout is undeniably flawless. It's slick beyond what one would usually associate with print-media and one that certainly doesn't need spiritual woo woo to sell copies of.

I don't think.

They ended the talk by stressing that publishing is political.

It's an interesting idea but in a space where Cocktails cost R30,00 a sip and everyone worries about looking done-up all the while sweating and stinking of shit, its feels more performance than protest.

Anyway

* * *

Any way you do it there will always be shit-throwers.

A spectator has the privilege of knowing everything that could've been done better at the cost of not knowing where to start in their own endeavours.

And unlike most, Jess is succeeding in doing what she can and what that is, is important. As important as what we at Strange-Fruit are trying to do, as important as what Khulekani is doing too.

It's the same endeavour appealing to different markets. It's an attempt to cultivate African literary talent.

POINTS DISREGARDED