About three months ago, in August, my German publisher Wunderhorn sent me an itinerary regarding my book tour in three German-speaking countries; Germany, Switzerland and Austria. My third novel, Way Back Home, had just been translated into German, and I was to travel to about 12 cities in these countries doing book readings. One of the exciting things about this itinerary was that I was scheduled to do a reading at the world’s biggest book gathering, The Frankfurt Book Fair, with Rachel Zadok. Feeling excited about this prospect, I immediately posted on my Facebook status. Unaware, my status suddenly generated interest in my work. Hundreds of my community of friends commented with enquiries about where they could buy my books. At first I thought, why ask an obvious question – Exclusive Books, of course. And that’s where I referred my readers to. I also mentioned the newly opened and most reliable African Flavour Books in Vanderbijlpark which sells most of the African authors from different parts of our continent.
I guess what made me excited the most was the fact that most of the people that made the enquiry were black people from the townships, suburbs and rural areas across the country. It has always been my wish that they, too, get to read my work as I write about these communities. I then took the time to respond to these enquiries individually.
First let me tell you why colour is important for me on this one. There has been an old, utterly preposterous rumour lingering about the black people in the township that they don’t read or buy books. For example, one of the reasons given for the closure of the Exclusive Books in Maponya Mall in Soweto is the lack of readership, or rather customers. I initially made a mistake by getting accustomed to this rumour, as I thought it was the truth, which according to my observation is not.
Later I realised that the rumour lacked a tiny grain of truth, and was buried beneath layers of fabrications and misunderstandings of what people wanted to read. For example, in Soweto, where I come from, my personal copy of After Tears that I had lent to my friend was read by about 20 people. That to me was a clear indication that people in my township community do read, but they just don’t have means to buy books themselves, for various reasons, including the economic dynamics. The government is also not assisting enough to change this. Libraries are still poorly stocked, with outdated materials that have become irrelevant to what the people want to read.
Against these odds, let me declare that the reading culture among the black South African youth is changing very fast. With the emergence of the post-apartheid crop of writers I see the South African youths organising themselves into book clubs every day, and they are buying books. The question that we should ask ourselves is that regarding the accessibility of book written by this new crop of writers. Here I’m not talking about the prices of books, but about distribution. Are we selling the right books to our customers, the kind of books they want to read, or are we selling them what we think they have to read? I’m of the opinion that booksellers like Exclusive Books are not selling the right kind of books to South Africans, and therefore more and more branches will continue to close, like the one in Maponya Mall, Rosebank’s The Zone, and others.
The kind of feedback that I received from people on Facebook had opened a realm of possibilities and understanding for me. When the people that I had referred to Exclusive Books came back to me with a complaint that they could not find my books in any of the shops, I realised that the majority of our population has made a conscious decision to read local authors. This made sense to me when those that I sent to the reliable African Flavour Books in Vanderbijlpark were able to get copies of all my books, and even bought more African authors.
I decided right there that over-dependency on Exclusive Books could create a cancer of the soul. I started to adopt the distribution strategy of some self-published authors like Mofenyi Lekhura to make my books accessible to my readers. In the first trial, I ordered about 30 of my books with On The Dot through my publisher Kwela. Within a day I had sold all my books to my readers via Facebook, with hundreds more pending orders. Those outside Johannesburg, in places like Cape Town, KwaZulu-Natal, Limpopo, Eastern Cape, Mpumalanga and so forth were prepared to pay the cost for the postage and used the Cash Send services of the banks. This was a pleasant surprise for me.
My travels around the globe have taught me that the best place to start while visiting a country or a city is its bookstores. When I go to different literary events around the world I make sure that I buy the books that I may not find in my country. In most countries, especially in Europe and the USA, for example, most bookshops promote their own writers. These would be displayed proudly in the entrances of the bookshops no matter how small they are. But here in South Africa it’s different, and I think stores like Exclusive Books are missing a great opportunity to dictate the agenda of change and set a trend. Both local and international tourists are forced to buy works by the big five – Nadine Gordimer, JM Coetzee, André Brink, Antjie Krog or Breyten Breytenbach, because these are the authors that Exclusive Books think they must read. This kind of thing perpetuates the stereotype outside South Africa as if there is no present or future, but only the past, happening over and over again. Don’t get me wrong, because I call these authors “the big five” advisedly. In almost every single event of my book tour, people who asked questions about the South African literary landscape used these names to define what South African literature is about. Although I find this problematic, there is no doubt that these authors have done a lot in mapping the South African literary landscape.
My recent visit to Germany, Austria and Switzerland has made me realise that the world is ready and hungry for the new South African literary voices. At the Humboldt Universität in Berlin, for example, I was surprised to learn that they also offer a Northern Sotho (Sepedi) course. In Basel I met few people that are doing their thesis focusing on post-apartheid literature. In all of these places I was asked to give a list of post-apartheid authors. Above this a few writers, such as Kgebetli Moele, Nthikeng Mohlele, Sifiso Mzobe, Lebo Mashile, Lauren Beukes, and others, and I, are published in different international languages such as, German, Swedish, Norwegian, French, Spanish and Italian.
I wish booksellers like Exclusive Books would take heed of this literary revolution before it’s too late. They have a chance of creating a trend rather than following it. For example, the students here at home are demanding a change in curriculum and they are prepared to rewrite their destiny. Recently we have seen the changes in most institutions of higher learning, including Stellenbosch University, Wits, UJ and so on. People want to read something that can add value to their lives, the material that speaks to them and about them.
One of the biggest commodities that the USA has successfully sold to South Africa is its culture. We consume American culture through books and movies. Unfortunately South Africa does not see culture as the most important commodity. Otherwise bookstores like Exclusive Books would be taking advantage of this and selling South African books at the airports and other places that are popular with the tourists.
Until this temple of the old literary faith falls, the new temple of the South African post-apartheid literary truth will never be created. By actively distributing our own books, writers can defeat this fatalism that is perpetrated by booksellers such as Exclusive Books. This is one of the reasons I support fellow writer Thando Mgqolozana’s new initiative of Kulture Book Fair in Khayelitsha, Cape Town to make books accessible to the readers.
As South Africans we must understand that one of the best ways of strengthening our democracy is through our literature and arts in general. If we expose our people, young and old, to the literature that is relevant to them, they will always be reminded of the humanity of all people, as well as the values and principles that define our democracy, irrespective of their ethnicity, religion or gender.
Also read: Karabo Kgoleng reviews Niq Mhlongo’s novel Way back home
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