"Magnificently weird and magnificently human." Anna Smith Spark — Queen of Grimdark
How does a necromancer care for three risen daughters?
"To raise one family, you will sacrifice another,” Doktor Grave once espoused. Now, striving to be a father instead of a servant to gods, his teachings backfire.
As his golem-body dissolves into the land itself, a nurse with fading sight must finish his work—guiding monstrous daughters, stolen souls, and forbidden rituals toward a future that may demand more blood than anyone intended. Grave’s Daughters is a dark fantasy of legacy, devotion, and the terrible cost of love.
"S.E. Lindberg’s Graves Daughters is an insane epic that defies simple description. A touch of Clark Ashton Smith, a dusting of Jack Vance and a dab of Brian McNaughton are detectable in a fiercely distinctive, almost unclassifiable tale of darkly macabre fantasy. Profoundly strange yet understandable characters wrestle with twisted family dynamics as they strive to accomplish goals both human and inhuman while pitted against dire, horrific foes.
Mortal concerns are transposed onto the inhuman and the superhuman on a luridly vivid otherworldly stage replete with bizarre creatures, subterranean wonders, and clashes of weird sorcery. Eldritch eros and elemental powers are weapons in a chain of spectacular conflicts that build to a mythic cataclysm that threatens to melt the landscape along with the reader’s mind. A lushly sustained and baroquely surreal fable unlike any other." John C. Hocking – Author of Conan: City of the Dead
S.E. Lindberg resides near Cincinnati, Ohio working as a microscopist, employing his skills as a scientist and artist to understand the manufacturing of products analogous to medieval paints. Two decades of practicing chemistry, combined with a passion for the Sword and Sorcery genre, spurred him to write Lords of Dyscrasia, a graphic adventure fictionalizing the alchemical humors. The dark saga continues with Helen's Daimones (cover art by Daniel Landerman) and Spawn of Dyscrasia (cover art by Ken Kelly).
S. E. Lindberg: Grave’s Daughters, 2026. The publication of any new “Dyscrasia Fiction” is a noteworthy event. Recently, Lindberg produced Grave’s Daughters, which is the story of three golem sisters that his long-term main character, Doktor Grave—himself a golem in humanoid form—carved from living stone. The daughters grow quickly, each with different strengths and personalities, until they begin to clash with one another and a full-scale war follows. The story and characters are intriguing and the whole thing is set in one of the most unique and just plain weirdest created worlds ever. We find ourselves in a land of living and fluid stone and earth, where giant insects are often at war with true humans, with hybrids and sorcerous creations of all kinds taking one side or another. And yet, it all makes sense and hangs together.
Lindberg has built a universe that takes off from the Greek theory of “Humors,” the four liquids of Blood, Phlegm, Black Bile, and Yellow Bile. His concept is immensely imaginative and aesthetically pleasing. I don’t know how he maintains the same artistic voice throughout these stories because it must be difficult to achieve that level of concentration. The language is just beautiful. If I were to liken his creations to any other writers it would have to be Clark Ashton Smith or Jack Vance, although Lindberg’s work is more exotic than Vance. And I don’t say that lightly.
At this point, Grave’s Daughters is my favorite among the four Dyscrasia novels. It follows Lords of Dyscrasia, 1011, Spawn of Dyscrasia, 2014, and Helen’s Daimones, 2017. A really superb achievement.
This is the continuing saga of the golem, Doctor Grave . . . physician, alchemist, sorcerer, and necromancer. This time around, he wants a family of his own, which is at the heart of this novel. Thus, he creates three humanoid/golem daughters, each fashioned of earth and white blood, called lapis elixir: Melanie is a doctor; Leech is a nurse; and Ember is haughty, sexually-charged and power-hungry. This is a truly dysfunctional family, for the three sisters, each of whom has a distinct and troublesome personality, are in conflict with each other. There’s a lot of friction and enmity between these siblings, especially between Ember and Melanie, who murdered her sister’s human husband. Doctor Grave has to deal with it all, the best he can, while pursuing his own agenda: he wants to find husbands for his daughters, so they can start families of their own. He prizes family above all things, and like any loving father, he would do anything for his three daughters. A golem and necromancer he may be, but he is not without heart. He is not evil. He suffers the trials and tribulations of a parent, and a single parent at that, which adds yet another dimension to Grave’s character. He’s more human than he realizes! In the end, the sisters must unite in order to be able to copulate, and with the help Helen, (the star of Lindberg’s earlier “Helen’s Daimones”) they perform a Motherhood Ritual.
“Grave’s Daughters” is a fever dream, a psychedelic trip into a totally unique Underworld that, to me, is but one step away from Hell. Each chapter is told in alternating, first-person narratives between Grave, Ember, Melanie and Leech. Grave’s world is a wondrous, fully-realized world, multi-layered and filled with strange mutants, hybrids and humans. Lindberg’s prose is exquisite. Nobody writes quite like him. His descriptions and similes, his dialog and metaphors . . . all sheer poetry. My favorite phrase of his is, “A geyser of ghosts. . .” The last few chapters, the finale, is a grand one, indeed. It explodes with action, suspense and more than a few surprises. “Grave’s Daughters” is a master-class in writing dark, Gothic fantasy. The book itself is gorgeous: the cover, the map and the interior illustrations all make it a very special book. This book was written with talent, skill, pure craftsmanship and above all, with love. Bravo!
I’m not sure I’ve ever been so challenged by such a short book. Grave’s Daughters by S.E. Lindberg is a dark sky ignited by a thousand flares. Following themes of legacy, raising children in our own image, watching those children’s images morph into something wholly their own… all wrapped in a Weird Dark Fantasy package with an unmistakeable the Dyscrasia identity.
Grave’s Daughters is the fourth book of Lindberg’s long-running Dysrasia Fiction series. Though it is my first (published) encounter with the series. Right off the bat, Lindberg does a lot of work to ensure that new readers aren’t overwhelmed by all the stuff they might have missed. This served as an excellent on-boarding experience and has made me want to turn back and visit Lord of Dyscrasia (2011) for the first time.
The story of Doktor Grave’s three golem daughters is presented as a fix-up novel, with most of the compiled stories previous published by a variety of publications familiar to fans of Third Wave Sword & Sorcery. This approach is largely what makes this book’s on-boarding so effective—any given chapter (aside from the final chapter, serving as a climax) might be your first run in with Dyscrasia.
That said, having read another (yet unpublished) Dyscrasia story, I am amazed at the depth Lindberg achieves with his rather restrained world-building. Returning readers are given all sorts of meat to chew on; yet new readers never feel left out. The short-story chapters serve the pacing well, and keep pages turning.
There are many kinds of beauty: the beauty of nature blossoming with new life after a hard winter; the beauty of a sunrise; the beauty of a baby's first smile; or a pack of puppies tumbling and playing with boundless joy.
This is not what S.E. Lindberg writes about.
There is also the beauty of the macabre. Of art made from carefully enameling the abandoned chitin of beetles; the beauty of fall dying into winter, its golds and reds slowly being subsumed by the greens, yellows and blacks of mold and the glint of early frost; of a skeleton's smile, indeed of the vast ossuaries and bone cathedrals built by monks crying out Memento Mori!
Such as the beauty of Dyscrasia--a fallen world, yet not an abandoned one. Not entirely.
Such is the beauty -- the desire to create life from stillness--that inspires the titular Dr. Grave to create three daughters from living rock. Grave is a necromancer, a former servitor of vast, insect demigods, and yet a lover of humanity. Alas, he does not entirely understand that thing he loves for, as a golem, he wears a man's form but has never been human himself. Thus, in creating his daughters--with a hope to perhaps create a true golem race, one united to men--he only vaguely understands what such entails or how to guide such creatures to adulthood.
There is much of ancient myth in Lindberg's novel. I say novel, but it is a collection of linear short stories culminating in a novella unique to this compilation, yet telling a larger tale through different viewpoints, beginning with a story of creation and ending in an apocalypse and rebirth--like any good myth cycle. There is a literal Underworld, through which our hero must pass, its powers be avoided or propitiated, to achieve goals. Doktor Grave, the creation of an elder, lost race seeking to fashion something from the ruins of dead rulers, has Odinic elements, just as his three daughters evoke images of goddesses of healing, fire and the underworld. And like goddesses, they hold great power and great passion, but far less *compassion*, which is where they perhaps differ most from their progenitor.
It is Grave's attempt to steer his daughters towards his purpose, their rebellion, the catastrophes those rebellions cause, and how a far larger crisis brings all together into a synthesis and fulfillment, perhaps not originally what the good Doktor intended, but better for the world, that these stories concern. I don't offer more than that, because they need to be experienced--the prose read carefully--to really see what Lindberg is about. But in its lushness, its strangeness, it's "monster's eye" view of a fallen world and fallen, macabre beauty, this work most resembles the magnificent THRONE OF BONES by the late Brian McNaughton, which did for ghouls of Lovecraftian bent what Anne Rice did for vampires.
This is a strange work about strange characters in an even stranger world--but it has things to say about being, identity, otherness and beauty that writhe, wyrm-like, through its stories.