kagablog

Hi Aryan,
have just read the review on The Chiz of 12shooters and The Ballard of Coffin Deadly and Sugar Moon and enjoyed it - but I have one problem:
At the beginning, Dave Chislett writes:

“He (Kaganof) published a great novel last year called Uselessly, through a real publisher that was well received.”

A “real” publisher?What the fuck is a “real” publisher? This sort of thing about about “real” publishers - meaning commercial publishers as opposed to independent publishers - is precisely the perception that folk such as Botsotso, Timbila, Dye Hard Press (me) and yourself have been fighting against. There are no “real” publishers. There are commercial publishers and independent publishers. Size is a mere characteristic.

I take you are therefore not a “real” filmmaker, because you do not own a commercial film company?

Regards
Gary

The Ballad of Sugar Moon and Coffin Deadly deur Aryan Kaganof
Uitgegee deur Pine Slopes Publications (Mei 2007)
Resensie deur Koos Kombuis

Hierdie is een van die snaaksste boeke wat ek nog ooit in my lewe gelees het sonder om een keer te lag. Nog selde was ‘n satiriese komedie so beklemmend. En nog selde was ‘n opeenstapeling van voorheen ontginde tema’s en literêre clichés so oorspronklik!

“The Ballad of Sugar Moon and Coffin Deadly” is die verhaal, in vrye vers-vorm, van twee baie onvriendelike mense. Coffin Deadly, ‘n bankrower en gewoonte-moordenaar, reis met sy tienderjarige meisie, Sugar Moon, deur die onderwêreld van Suider-Afrika. Sugar Moon is verslaaf aan dwelmmiddels en Coffin Deadly drink te veel. Soos in die fliek “Natural Born Killers”, is ‘n mens nie altyd seker waar hallusinasie eindig en werklikheid begin nie.

Is die kroegman wat Sugar Moon gevange neem in Port St Johns werklik Osama Bin Laden? Probeer Coffin Deadly werklik vir Nelson Mandela vermoor net omdat hy nie hou van die hemde wat hy dra nie? Is Rodrigues werklik ‘n beter sanger as Peter Sarstedt? Is daar al ooit sulke tragi-komiese verse geskryf soos die volgende?

“Fuck me Deadly! Make a baby!” She would
scream while I pushed that thing inside her
with everything I had. We were both long past
the point of holding anything back and then we

came together for the first time and I could feel a
baby coming out of me and it was more than a
little ironic that we had met at the abortion clinic
but then, I never wrote the script of my life, I

merely lived it…”

As kru galgehumor Kaganof se handelsmerk geword het – ons het hom immers leer ken deur die (nou meer kontroversiële as ooit) selfoon-rolprent “SMS Sugar Man”, die bizarre drinkstories “Stones Again” en sy holderstebolder outobiografie “Uselessly” – vat hierdie ‘epiese gedig’ letterlik die koek.

Soos ‘n wafferse Bonnie en Clyde bestook hierdie twee misfits, die immer besope Coffin Deadly en sy al meer veeleisende side-kick Sugar Moon die reeds gebroke lokale werklikheid. Hulle probeer vergeefs drugs koop in Keetmanshoop (dit kon ek hulle gesê het). Hulle overdose in die Mount Nelson Hotel in Kaapstad. Hulle veroorsaak ‘n kroeggeveg in Knysna. Hulle vermoor Britse toeriste in Natal. En eindelik eindig alles op ‘n hopelose antiklimaks wanneer hulle probeer hoender koop by Fontana in Hillbrow. Coffin Deadly word gevang en beland saam met die Boeremag-lede in ‘n sel, waar die swart bewaarders hulle martel met luide kwaito-musiek. Sugar Moon word staatsgetuie, maar verduidelik haar verraad aan Coffin Deadly in ‘n lang, swak geskryfde liefdesgedig waarin sy aanhoudend plagiaat pleeg deur bekende reels uit popmusiek-liedjies te steel. Pappa Coffin se foetus word geaborteer, en wanneer hy die nuus in die tronk hoor “sterf” iets in hom. As gevolg van die helende invloed van kwaito-musiek kom hy egter tot berou oor sy woeste lewe:

I am very sorry for all the pain and suffering

I caused my victims and their families. There really
should be more stringent gun laws in this country.
It’s madness, all those guns out there.

Ja, dis waar. “The Ballad of Sugar Moon and Coffin Deadly” is melodramaties en ongeloofwaardig, hoogstens ‘n opeenstapeling van absurde ontmoetings en kwasi-ernstige mymerings. Die waarde van die werk is nog in die karakter-uitbeelding nog in die storie, maar eerder in die skerp taalgebruik en ironiese jukstaposisies.

The security guard at the Melville branch of ABSA
Bank swiped me down with the electronic sensor
Which went off. Beep beep. He smiled unctuously.
“Sir, please hand in your cell phone.”

“I don’t have a cell phone.”
“Then what’s making that sound?”
“My gun.” He laughed. I laughed
too. Then I shot him.

Dit is baie jammer dat hierdie boek nie algemeen in winkels beskikbaar is nie; mens moet blykbaar die uitgewers persoonlik ken, of ‘n brief stuur aan Posbus 86, Westhoven 2142. Maar dit is tipies van Kaganof se werkwyse deesdae; waar hy voorheen, onder sy oorspronkelike naam (Ian Kerkhof) ‘n wêreldbekende filmmaker en kunstenaar was wie se werk hoog aangeskryf is van Amsterdam tot New York, verkies hy, om redes net aan homself bekend, om deesdae feitlik anoniem te werk in Suid-Afrika. (Volgens gerugte het hy deesdae sy eie band ook, en speel hulle meesal in Boksburg.)

Dit is nie bekend wat sy lewensfilosofie is nie, maar onderstaande aanhaling kan dalk leidrade verskaf:

I stifled a yawn. I was feeling rather sleepy.
Osama was no different from Mussolini or Robert
Mugabe, just another crazy crackpot dictator in
Love with the sound of his own voice. He wouldn’t

Have lasted very long on Jerry Springer I tell you.

Aryan Kaganof’s latest books, The Ballad of Sugar Moon and Coffin Deadly and 12 Shooters, represent the proverbial tip of the author’s artistic iceberg, venturing onto which, you stand in some danger of losing your footing, sliding down, and slipping under the icy waters for a peek at the rest.

I’ve read part of the Ballad and all of 12 Shooters - I count the latter as one of 2007’s “books of the year” - and I’m a regular visitor at Kagablog, an extraordinarily active online emporium of the underground arts. Call me a Kagadiver.

this article first appeared on book sa reviews

dearest K

i loved the book !!!!!!!!!!!

whilst slumbering this morn
i had a very strange dream that i was with you in the kwikspar
and this so-called black guy was dragging this so-called black woman around
the shop with a butchers knife held against her throat
i saw this…. and you saw this
you pulled out your glock and blew the guy away……..
i ran out the spar and sprinted down beyers naudé (formally known as DF malan)
everything and everyone was ominous and then i woke up
so as you can see the ballad sunk deep into my being
and took me places i’ve been and not been before

“I read somewhere that the measure of a good book is how subversive it is. Your writing, to this reader at least, seems excellently subversive.”
brent davis

Aryan Kaganof has been around. He’s pissed a lot of people off. The established art fraternity don’t like him as they see him as a huckster and a pollutant whose very fecundity sullies the pure halls of art. His prodigious output of poetry, performance, films, novels, photography and blog is enough to keep an average observer occupied for some time. He published a great novel last year called Uselessly, through a real publisher that was well received. So what the fuck are these two books?

12 Shooters and The Ballad of Sugar Moon and Coffin deadly are the two latest collections that Aryan has released through Pine slopes, his DIY publishing house.

12 Shooters is just that, 12 stories, shot from the hip. And on the back he claims that these autobiographical pieces are the best introduction to the author himself. And that is where the trouble starts. The stories of heavy drinking, attempted sex, the refusal to buy women drinks, guns and cars are engaging, funny, twisted, and well written. But are they autobiographical? Are they a real introduction to the author? No I don’t think so. Kaganof is funning you; he’s pulling your literal leg and tickling his literary funny bone. You don’t access people like this. You access ideas of people. And like the ideas that people may come up with from reading this collection, the Kaganof that lives in these pages is a vision the author may have held of himself at one time. Is it him now? I don’t think so. But that’s just my idea. I mean these days when I whip his ass at pool, he drinks coke or coffee, not beer. And yes, that was me name dropping.

But literary theory concerns aside, this is a great little bundle of short stories. Fast, angry, dirty. Love them. Kaganof is a great voice of the weirdly disenfranchised white male that seems to hold court in the drinking holes and wannabe cool joints of our fair nation. And hear he frames the pain and the paradoxes of that position perfectly. And much like rubber neckers at freeway accidents, the compulsion to slow down and get a good eyeful is irresistible and rewarded with plenty of human wreckage. If anyone is in any doubt that white men in this country are a bit fucked up, read this. Luckily, you might also develop a bit of sympathy in the process…

The Ballad Of Sugar Moon and Coffin deadly on the other hand is the super violent ballad of a pair of murderous lovers and their ultimate demise. It is sort of Natural Born Killers in South Africa without the self justifying crap. It’s just brutal stuff. Since Kaganof stopped drinking (has he?) he seems to have developed a voice that is arresting and clear. These two new books both have a painful clarity about the writing. Despite what one may think of the man or his previous works, his previous incarnations, his decision to reinvent himself, these two books are well written and attention grabbing, And not just because of the content. This is a new voice, a clear one that seems to have broken clear of the emotional clutter of the past to celebrate a life that may have been shattered, and a psyche that may well be twisted, but above all, it belongs to one person and he is pleased to be here.

So you may well end up loving or hating Aryan Kaganof, and you may already hold one of those two opinions, but these books need to be read. And in a sense, yes, the back of 12 Shooters is right. It is a great introduction to the man and his vast volume of work. But whether it is really him or not, I do protest!

dave chislett
this review originally appeared on dave’s great blog the chiz.co.za

Aryan,
Devoured The Ballad of Sugar Moon and Coffin Deadly in
two
delicious session-really a glorious piece of
literature-
loved the language, the concepts, the twists-
brilliant and thank you for sending it-extremely
stimulating
and highly pleasurable-
Wonderful.
Lydia

Lydia Lunch

October 2nd, 2007 by Ben Williams

Independent publisher Gary Cummiskey (Dye Hard Press) has done SA letters a service by garnering some review space in a major newspaper for the prolific Aryan Kaganof, another independent publisher (Pine Slopes Publications), and most recently the author of 12Shooters and The Ballad of Sugar Moon and Coffin Deadly.

As anyone who has explored his extraordinary website at Kaganof.com (which includes the best kept secret in the SA avant art world: Kagablog!) will know, Kaganof is active in any number of mediums, and appears to be ruled by his id, albeit one that’s ever-so-lightly restrained.

gary cummiskey’s review starts out:

The two latest publications from the often-controversial, multitalented Aryan Kaganof — filmmaker, novelist, poet, publisher and visual artist — offer some interesting contrasts and similarities.

The Ballad of Sugar Moon and Coffin Deadly is an unusual work: a book-length narrative poem in four sections; the first section composed in the traditional four-line stanza form of the ballad, though telling a story that is anything but traditional — it is instead mind-blowing, bizarre, hilarious, as well as often offensive and outrageous.

Coffin Deadly, a former member of 32 Battalion, is now a bank robber who, by his own admittance, enjoys killing people.

read the full review on the weekender

this review appeared in the weekender of saturday 29/09/07