This daring—possibly foolhardy—experiment is indicative of the spirit that the quasi-anonymous editor has brought to bear on this most idiosyncratic venture since its conception. For those not in the know, Nemonymous is a collection of interstitial fiction wherein contributors’ names are withheld from the reader until the following issue (demanding a degree of patience, as it is published at a shifting point between bi-annually and annually).

Even the initial submissions of stories are to be made anonymously.

This process is of benefit to the reader in that, beyond expectations of the production itself, there will be no preconceptions based on an author’s previous works.

Once I’d received my second copy through (having lost the other one due to its near-invisibility) what spoils were to be had?

The fiction in Nemonymous, in spite of its promise to free writers from their voice, has a very definite style. The editor favours rambling, wordy prose laden with offbeat similes and stories with characters who find themselves in extranormal situations.

Rather than being described as slipstream, Nemonymous fiction might be better described as extreme magic realism.

Some of the language requires a patient reader, and I found it necessary to have a good dictionary along for the ride. So, with patience, dictionary, and expecting the surreal, I was ready to engage with the Nemo.

The first story, ‘Apologising to the Concrete,’ dragged me in slowly, almost comfortably, like quicksand or drying cement. After this good, if gentle, start, incorporating the second tale too, which is almost straight science fiction, it is unfortunate that so early on appear two of the weaker stories in the collection. I couldn’t quite place what it was about the short and mostly pleasing ‘Measuring the Extent’ that didn’t work for me, but ‘The Death Knell’ seemed overworked and over-familiar, with too many ideas floating around and not enough existential pull to allow it to muddle through without a satisfying resolution.

Next up, ‘Embrace,’ was much stronger and managed to instil a sense of unease in spite of its use of habitual tropes.

Thankfully, much firmer ground followed. Beginning with ‘The Frog’s Pool’—a tale demonstrating the brutality of evolution instead of the beauty—are six stories that make Nemonymous #4 easily worth its cover price. ‘Generous Furniture’ is an adventure in form rather than story, and I would have happily paid the £5.50 cover price for ‘Leave Like Hearts’ alone. The language, the emotion and sense of otherness were all spot on. I want to know who wrote it! I want more of the same.

’Like a Slow-Motion War’ is a fair tale, but it feels neither as true nor as natural as its predecessor. It could have been improved had the story focused less on the wordplay and more on the characters, who were interesting.

Now on to the quintessential Nemo material: ‘My Burglar,’ ‘Maledict Michela’ and ‘Nocturne For Doghands’ all adequately illustrate why this zine stands out from the crowd, with their melancholic humour, super-flawed characters and winning word-wrangling. The issue tapers off a bit after this, ending with the unforgiving story, ‘The Rorschach Interpreter.’

Overall, Nemonymous is a well-produced value-for-money read. It is absurd there are so few publications in the small press produced to such a professional standard. Nemonymous, for its production values alone, should be a benchmark

All four issues of Nemonymous are available at a steal of £20.

Neil Ayres was born in East London in 1979. He left school with a handful of GCSEs when he was 16 and has worked at times (and in no particular order) as a warehouseman, a cattery hand, a copy-shop assistant, a barman, a professional dog trainer and a cheap alternative to a computer database. He currently works in publishing. He lives on the Surrey/Sussex border in a house without a resident cat, though if there was one it could live without fear of being swung, as there’s not enough room to do such a thing. Neil is project manager for the ‘Book of Voices,’ an anthology of short stories due to be published by Flame Books in March 2005 in an attempt to raise awareness of the work of the Sierra Leone office of International PEN. Neil is also a member of Godisin, the first TTA writers’ workshop. In between all of the above, he is trying to get round to finishing his second novel and finding a decent agent. To read Neil’s story, ‘Changeling’ on the Showcase section of this site, click here or for more reviews by Neil, visit The New Review index here.

© 2004 Laura Hird All rights reserved.