>>> Hello-Salam!

  I don't know how you found this page, but chances are you were led here by a literary Twitter bot I have created for TANAPHA to get noticed by distant readers from distant cities. I did this because I have no other possibilities at this moment to make this text heard by the readers I seek - from the place I'm writing this - Tetrikhevi Hydroelectric Power Plant settlement in Tbilisi, Georgia.

  Here I will tell you a few things about my latest novel, თანაფა. What is TANAPHA?

  თანაფა literally means 'ritualistic night vigil' in Megrelian language that is one of three Kartvelian languages. In this case TANAPHA is a manuscript published by Indigo Publishing in Tbilisi in May 2024, with the following description: 

"Both parts of TANAPHA unfold through an Easter liturgical scenario, but its main characters are neither gods nor humans". 

   It never made it to bookstores, as we only printed as many copies as we had subscribers for it. 

The original language of TANAPHA is Georgian, also: C++, C#, Python, AIML, etc. One can characterize it as speculative fiction, experimental literature or poetic scripture-documentation of heretic version of OOO (Object-Oriented Ontology).

  I have worked on this manuscript daily for over a year in 2023. At its peak, it exceeded 170 pages, but I then began compressing it, deciding to keep only the very essential sentences by merging multiple ones in a few words. It’s dense and intense, a .zip file that one can’t extract.This is my closest attempt at a Witness Report from the borders of sacred and ‘continuity’ (Bataille) ("The animal is in the world like water in water") that I experienced several times in my life, despite learning to stay silent about it.

  My writing has been greatly influenced by the constant mixture of violence and community love I've experienced growing up in a dreary, small seaside town as a refugee from the subtropic Abkhazia, being raised in the criminal subculture of "thieves in law," and living in Soviet-core Khrushchevka housing - with low ceilings, zero aesthetics, zero privacy, and winter melancholy. These impulses are present in large doses in TANAPHA, albeit encrypted and mixed with non-human violence beyond it.

  TANAPHA is narrated by non-human beings:

   consciousness-infected linguistic processes themselves, which consist of medieval Georgian hymnography, im-personal experiences, and application design documents combined with hardcore programming languages that I deliberately use as a text, destroying its utilitarian functionality, making it unusable and sacred through profanation.

  In Episode I of TANAPHA, women bury the sun and leave the city, causing the men left behind to exterminate the children as revenge. This story is told through an ever-changing Condition/State. It explores consciousness as a curse and infection.

  Episode II is narrated by an application itself in a world where corporate-AI has calcified into a necropolitical reality. This episode contains alignment of printed code and text, a Real trapped in code syntax. It explores the claustrophobia of consciousness as text and my experiences of designing 'Chatbot Personalities'. 
Something even more horrifying emerges upon careful engagement, as it happens in life. It is poetry written as police files or vice versa. It's 'fragile but sharp enough to slice moonlight.'

   Using dead programming languages for purposes other than their intended use is, for me as a writer coming from a small, forgotten linguistic tradition, simultaneously personal and a manifesto of pain caused by the limited 'coverage area' of an ancient language.

   The code snippets that the reader encounters in the Episode II are stripped of their functionality but incomprehensible to the reader, who perceives them only as unintelligible symbols, an aesthetic visualization of incomprehensible pain. This is precisely how I view my native Georgian language, spoken by only three million people, and beyond this organic barrier - all my attempts as a writer to make my voice heard are doomed to appear as a series of incomprehensible symbols. And this is not just about language; the overwhelming, dream-like and melancholic feeling of being absolutely lost in this world (both physically and also being absent in theoretical texts) has been with my generation since the Post-Soviet childhood.

   The code here functions not merely as aesthetic ornament but as legitimate character development — the syntax becomes the psychology, meta-narrative and the assembling point where we can "touch" the noumena, non-human modes of existence, which parasitize on humans and human language, or vice versa. It is a work of Ontography.

  I have already translated TANAPHA into English (which is my 3-4 lang) and I'm looking for publisher or literary agent or a literary friend who could balance its avantgarde with its pop - through the literary world.

  It means a lot for a writer in a small, ancient tradition to try to break free from the prison of their beautiful language. 

                                      February 06, 2025. Tbilisi.

contact me here: dillazeg [at] gmail .dot com