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A review by jdhacker
And At My Back I Always Hear by Scott Nicolay
dark
emotional
funny
mysterious
reflective
sad
tense
medium-paced
4.5
Its been many years since Scott Nicolay's first collection. This long in coming second collection was certainly worth the wait.
And At My Back I Always Hear contains several previously published pieces as well as some brand new ones.
Among those stories not previously published was, "The Anodizing Line". Taking place during a young man's summer job at a small town factory, this was the star of the collection. Others have called this possibly the best thing Nicolay has written, and while I've not yet read *everything* he's written its definitely among the best stories of his I have read. The realism, quality of writing, characters that easily to identify with or identify analogs of in real life, the creeping dread and strangeness of the employer itself is just...perfect. The more relatable horror of the protagonist's struggle with his implied and later outright stated sexuality as well as the all too real tragedy that later becomes of his life, are more unsettling than any of the Weirdness that ensues. Even the all too common in America horror of a town and its inhabitants so dependent on a single employer and what that can mean in their lives serves to connect this highly readable story to universal reader experiences. I would even say that this story alone would make it worth picking up the collection.
There is an integration of these sorts of commonplace, real world, horrors and monsters throughout most of the collection, in counterpoint to its more esoteric and weird horrors. The train hopping unhoused subject of "Tenebrionidae" has to worry about train bosses, other unhoused folks, food, and infection as well as the possible cultists pursuing him. "after"'s monster plays second fiddle to the specter of domestic abuse, rape, and the tragedy of economic and climate collapse, and ultimately is the only real threat that is resolved in any way. We see some of those same threats, as well as the simple threat that a real, complex, and flawed human being can pose in "Noctuidae". "The Croaker" reminds us of the all too everyday terror that we cannot change the past, or the actions we've taken there, and that somethings in addition to being unchangeable will always haunt us.
The final story in the collection, "The Always Rising of the Night", takes a turn into what at first feels almost like bizarro, but shapes up into a delightful tale that I can't properly characterize. It has its creeping threats, its aura of strangeness, and the sadness that can grow from the relationship parent and child...but despite the unresolved ending (a thing it shares with many of the other stories) it almost feels hopeful. The closure spoken of by its characters was something I felt as a reader, which is fitting for its place here.
The note at the end of "The Green Eye", which was enjoyable in and of itself, does a fantastic job of giving us a window into Nicolay's particular creative process. In particular, it addresses both a flaw I found in his first collection, but was happily absent here. Our protagonists throughout the collection are incredibly diverse in terms of background, current circumstances, gender, sexuality, etc. But in this note Nicolay embraces the fact that he puts much of himself into his characters. However, in this second collection I think he's done a more masterful job of drawing correspondences between himself and his characters, rather than then being simply reflections of him.
And At My Back I Always Hear contains several previously published pieces as well as some brand new ones.
Among those stories not previously published was, "The Anodizing Line". Taking place during a young man's summer job at a small town factory, this was the star of the collection. Others have called this possibly the best thing Nicolay has written, and while I've not yet read *everything* he's written its definitely among the best stories of his I have read. The realism, quality of writing, characters that easily to identify with or identify analogs of in real life, the creeping dread and strangeness of the employer itself is just...perfect. The more relatable horror of the protagonist's struggle with his implied and later outright stated sexuality as well as the all too real tragedy that later becomes of his life, are more unsettling than any of the Weirdness that ensues. Even the all too common in America horror of a town and its inhabitants so dependent on a single employer and what that can mean in their lives serves to connect this highly readable story to universal reader experiences. I would even say that this story alone would make it worth picking up the collection.
There is an integration of these sorts of commonplace, real world, horrors and monsters throughout most of the collection, in counterpoint to its more esoteric and weird horrors. The train hopping unhoused subject of "Tenebrionidae" has to worry about train bosses, other unhoused folks, food, and infection as well as the possible cultists pursuing him. "after"'s monster plays second fiddle to the specter of domestic abuse, rape, and the tragedy of economic and climate collapse, and ultimately is the only real threat that is resolved in any way. We see some of those same threats, as well as the simple threat that a real, complex, and flawed human being can pose in "Noctuidae". "The Croaker" reminds us of the all too everyday terror that we cannot change the past, or the actions we've taken there, and that somethings in addition to being unchangeable will always haunt us.
The final story in the collection, "The Always Rising of the Night", takes a turn into what at first feels almost like bizarro, but shapes up into a delightful tale that I can't properly characterize. It has its creeping threats, its aura of strangeness, and the sadness that can grow from the relationship parent and child...but despite the unresolved ending (a thing it shares with many of the other stories) it almost feels hopeful. The closure spoken of by its characters was something I felt as a reader, which is fitting for its place here.
The note at the end of "The Green Eye", which was enjoyable in and of itself, does a fantastic job of giving us a window into Nicolay's particular creative process. In particular, it addresses both a flaw I found in his first collection, but was happily absent here. Our protagonists throughout the collection are incredibly diverse in terms of background, current circumstances, gender, sexuality, etc. But in this note Nicolay embraces the fact that he puts much of himself into his characters. However, in this second collection I think he's done a more masterful job of drawing correspondences between himself and his characters, rather than then being simply reflections of him.