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Dark Arts
Eric Stener Carlson’s short stories navigate dark spaces, intertwining life with death and art. His characters seek enlightenment in music, literature, painting and photography, but they also find darkness—something menacing, magical and obscure. Art is a spirit board allowing them to contact shades from the past, or to discover danger in the shadows.
A man keeping vigil at the bedside of his dying lover hears jazz that reminds him of a girl he lost long ago. At a late-night coffee shop, a professor clings to the diary of a dead man, but it fails to give him the protection he’s longing for. A girl wrapped up in the wonders of a book tumbles down the stairs and wakes up in a world beyond her dreams. A refugee paints the last picture the world will ever know.
Lyrical and haunting, these twelve stories (ten published here for the first time) explore the tenderness and terrors of life. They invite us to a place where the worlds of the living and the spirits of the lost blend in a seamless new reality. And when the end finally comes, Mother Night is kind.
Contents: ‘Author’s Introduction’, ‘Golden Book’, ‘Coffee Shop’, ‘Divining Rod’, ‘Leopard-spotted Scarf’, ‘Corridor’, ‘Bradycardia’, ‘Stray’, ‘Strasse 60, Berlin’, ‘Salt’, ‘Monsieur Machine’, ‘I Loved You at Your Darkest’, ‘The Atelier’.
A man keeping vigil at the bedside of his dying lover hears jazz that reminds him of a girl he lost long ago. At a late-night coffee shop, a professor clings to the diary of a dead man, but it fails to give him the protection he’s longing for. A girl wrapped up in the wonders of a book tumbles down the stairs and wakes up in a world beyond her dreams. A refugee paints the last picture the world will ever know.
Lyrical and haunting, these twelve stories (ten published here for the first time) explore the tenderness and terrors of life. They invite us to a place where the worlds of the living and the spirits of the lost blend in a seamless new reality. And when the end finally comes, Mother Night is kind.
Contents: ‘Author’s Introduction’, ‘Golden Book’, ‘Coffee Shop’, ‘Divining Rod’, ‘Leopard-spotted Scarf’, ‘Corridor’, ‘Bradycardia’, ‘Stray’, ‘Strasse 60, Berlin’, ‘Salt’, ‘Monsieur Machine’, ‘I Loved You at Your Darkest’, ‘The Atelier’.
306 pages, Kindle Edition
First published September 15, 2022
1 person is currently reading
77 people want to read
About the author
Eric Stener Carlson
17 books11 followersEric Stener Carlson (Minnesota, 1969) is an author currently based in Geneva, Switzerland.
He wrote his first book, "I Remember Julia: Voices of the Disappeared" (Temple University Press, 1996), when he was right out of college. It is based on his work with the Argentine Forensic Anthropology Team identifying the remains of people killed by the military dictatorship in the 1970s. After working for the International Criminal Tribunal for the Former Yugoslavia in the 1990s, he wrote his second book, "The Pear Tree: Is Torture Ever Justified?" (Clarity Press, 2006), a very personal investigation into the use of torture and its moral consequences.
Eric became a novelist with the publication of "The Saint Perpetuus Club of Buenos Aires" (Tartarus Press, 2009), a surreal, supernatural mystery. He followed this up with the novel, "Muladona" (Tartarus Press, 2016), "Anxiety of Ghosts" (Amazon, 2017) and his first short story collection, "GAS" (Abraxas Press, 2018). He has a number of other novel projects in the works.
His short stories and articles have appeared in journals in the US, UK, Argentina and Spain.
Eric holds a BA in International Affairs from The American University, an MA in International Affairs from Columbia University and a Ph.D. in Political Science from the University of California at Santa Barbara. He was also a Fulbright scholar affiliated with the University of Buenos Aires.
Eric frequently lectures and is always happy to give talks to book clubs and universities.
He wrote his first book, "I Remember Julia: Voices of the Disappeared" (Temple University Press, 1996), when he was right out of college. It is based on his work with the Argentine Forensic Anthropology Team identifying the remains of people killed by the military dictatorship in the 1970s. After working for the International Criminal Tribunal for the Former Yugoslavia in the 1990s, he wrote his second book, "The Pear Tree: Is Torture Ever Justified?" (Clarity Press, 2006), a very personal investigation into the use of torture and its moral consequences.
Eric became a novelist with the publication of "The Saint Perpetuus Club of Buenos Aires" (Tartarus Press, 2009), a surreal, supernatural mystery. He followed this up with the novel, "Muladona" (Tartarus Press, 2016), "Anxiety of Ghosts" (Amazon, 2017) and his first short story collection, "GAS" (Abraxas Press, 2018). He has a number of other novel projects in the works.
His short stories and articles have appeared in journals in the US, UK, Argentina and Spain.
Eric holds a BA in International Affairs from The American University, an MA in International Affairs from Columbia University and a Ph.D. in Political Science from the University of California at Santa Barbara. He was also a Fulbright scholar affiliated with the University of Buenos Aires.
Eric frequently lectures and is always happy to give talks to book clubs and universities.
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Displaying 1 - 5 of 5 reviews
March 14, 2023
full post is here:
http://www.oddlyweirdfiction.com/2023...
The end of our January and the entire month of February was just terrible after a death in our family, and although I managed to actually finish reading this book midway through February, it's really only now that I have the mindspace to talk about it.
When I first found out about the release of Carlson's new Tartarus Press publication of Dark Arts, I didn't hesitate to add it to my library immediately, having loved both of his novels The Saint Perpetuus Club of Buenos Aires and Muladona, also from Tartarus. On my nightstand (sadly unread as of right now) also sits his two-volume chapbook The Story of Anja Sigmundsdottir, published by Zagava, which I moved off the tbr shelves directly after reading this book and which I will be taking with me on our sorely-needed vacation in April. In short, I'm a huge fan of this man's work.
In his introduction, the author writes that
"Art is illuminating, but there's also something dark about it -- something menacing, magical, obscure ... a conjuring of sorts, a reaching beyond the circle of the campfire, a groping of sorts, a reaching beyond the circle of the campfire, a grouping for dangerous things hidden in the faintly-perceived undergrowth."
As the dustjacket blurb notes, art is also a "spirit board" that allows his people to "contact shades from the past, or to discover danger in the shadows."
Eric Stener Carlson is an incredibly gifted writer who never fails to offer a deep, enriching and soulful quality in his work which illuminates the humanity of the author's characters no matter where they exist in the world. Like the best of the best weird tales, the stories in Dark Arts reach that certain point where people in the mundane world find themselves at some point having crossed a threshhold into a completely different reality; like the best authors, Carlson's skill is in illuminating the challenges of his characters who must make their way through what he describes as the "dark spaces" that are "intertwined with life and death and art." At the same time, it seems to me that one major idea that he never loses sight of throughout this book is that even in the darkness there will continue to be love and hope that may help to offset the horrors found there, so very much the case in our current world. Dark Arts is a truly excellent collection, both beautiful and terrifying, written by a skilled master of his own art.
Beyond highly recommended, I cannot praise this book enough.
http://www.oddlyweirdfiction.com/2023...
The end of our January and the entire month of February was just terrible after a death in our family, and although I managed to actually finish reading this book midway through February, it's really only now that I have the mindspace to talk about it.
When I first found out about the release of Carlson's new Tartarus Press publication of Dark Arts, I didn't hesitate to add it to my library immediately, having loved both of his novels The Saint Perpetuus Club of Buenos Aires and Muladona, also from Tartarus. On my nightstand (sadly unread as of right now) also sits his two-volume chapbook The Story of Anja Sigmundsdottir, published by Zagava, which I moved off the tbr shelves directly after reading this book and which I will be taking with me on our sorely-needed vacation in April. In short, I'm a huge fan of this man's work.
In his introduction, the author writes that
"Art is illuminating, but there's also something dark about it -- something menacing, magical, obscure ... a conjuring of sorts, a reaching beyond the circle of the campfire, a groping of sorts, a reaching beyond the circle of the campfire, a grouping for dangerous things hidden in the faintly-perceived undergrowth."
As the dustjacket blurb notes, art is also a "spirit board" that allows his people to "contact shades from the past, or to discover danger in the shadows."
Eric Stener Carlson is an incredibly gifted writer who never fails to offer a deep, enriching and soulful quality in his work which illuminates the humanity of the author's characters no matter where they exist in the world. Like the best of the best weird tales, the stories in Dark Arts reach that certain point where people in the mundane world find themselves at some point having crossed a threshhold into a completely different reality; like the best authors, Carlson's skill is in illuminating the challenges of his characters who must make their way through what he describes as the "dark spaces" that are "intertwined with life and death and art." At the same time, it seems to me that one major idea that he never loses sight of throughout this book is that even in the darkness there will continue to be love and hope that may help to offset the horrors found there, so very much the case in our current world. Dark Arts is a truly excellent collection, both beautiful and terrifying, written by a skilled master of his own art.
Beyond highly recommended, I cannot praise this book enough.
December 24, 2025
Let me start by saying that I absolutely love Tartarus Press. In fact, I just had Mark Valentine's most recent collection from them show up in my mail this past week. My first Tartarus book was a copy of Meyrink's The Golem, which a good friend of mine gifted me many, many years ago. I think I own about twelve volumes from Tartarus, most of them hardcovers (though I'd have to verify that number). I've never been disappointed by a Tartarus publication. Unfortunately, that streak may have come to an end with the current volume. Carlson's Dark Arts isn't bad, it's just not up to par with the other Tartarus books I've read. I suppose not every volume can be outstanding. I also just encountered what I would consider Wakefield Press's weakest volume that I've read so far. Maybe it's a bad batch. Maybe it's just me, who knows? But I have to call them like I see them. And here is how I see each of the stories in this volume:
Can a story in which not one, but four deaths occur (one being an alleyway murder) be considered . . . comforting? Soft? Even loving? Carlson tells just such a tale in "Golden Book," in which an Ikiryo meets a young girl destined for her first encounter with death. This story is more of a blessing than a curse, as dark as it is.
"Coffee Shop" was ripe with dazzling poetics. Unfortunately, the incredible potential of the plot and language was unrealized. I wanted so much more than what the ending had to offer, but then again, that might have been the point of this story of trapped desperation?
I feel the same way about "Divining Rod" as I did about the last story. So much poetic potential, so little punch. This tale seemed to meander, directionless, like a series of disjunct writing exercises strung together on a frayed, insubstantial plot line. But again, maybe that was the point? I'll never know. Or maybe that is the point and I'm just too shallow of a reader to realize it?
I thought that maybe I would warm up to Carlson with the next tale. "Leopard-Spotted Scarf" is a touching (if tinged by horror) tale of a woman daring to become her childhood self, yet again. It's a bittersweet tale that doesn't telegraph the surprise ending, though one can likely figure out what's happening beforehand from the subtle cues left by the narrator. It's a Twilight-Zone-esque tale, which is one of the highest compliments I can give a story
Alas, the relative highs of "Leopard-Spotted Scarf" weren't reached again over the next few stories. "Corridor" is full of anticipatory horror past and present. Two journalists wait for the terrorists who are about to take them hostage. One has suffered throughout his life from an extreme neurosis about what will happen to him in the future. The other is terrified by the prospect of capture and death. But in this case, one's terrors can atone for the terror of another. A good (not great) tale of strange redemptions.
Somewhere along the way, I lost the thread of "Bradycardia". The heady mixture of dream and waking life, along with what might be psychosis, goaded along by a manipulative lover(?) gets almost too convoluted. There's a fine line between complex and incomprehensible, and I wavered over both sides of that line throughout.
The premise of "Stray," a story told by a dog about his many previous lives, was, to be honest, not to my liking. But Carlson handled that premise with tenderness and an ongoing emotional charge that won me over. I didn't like the idea, but the execution was handled by such a deft hand that I couldn't help but love the story.
Mood and atmosphere dominate "Strasse 60, Berlin". This story has a heightened sense of tension that gives it a higher ceiling of dread and eeriness than other stories thus far in the collection. The press of confusion is palpable. Chronology is shuffled and the narrator is misdirected by the phantoms of his own memories. A disconcerting, very effective story. This was more of what I had hoped for.
"Salt" is an excellent story of gaslighting by an authoritarian regime. It's a twisted narrative of unraveling untruth and an emotional gut punch to a narrator that may or may not be insane, but is absolutely in a lot of trouble.
Despite a baldly-telegraphed "twist" and some pushy histrionics, I rather liked "Monsieur Machine". Delivery aside, this was an excellent tale of love and ambition coming into stark contrast, then resolution of the dialectic. Given its mechanistic themes, there is an evocation of emotion that moves the reader while horrifying at the same time. Here love and loss combine to create awe and the awful.
I liked "I Loved You at Your Darkest," but didn't love it. Pardon the horrid attempt at a pun. Yes, the story twisted in an unexpected way, but resolved too quickly, in my mind, with the narrator able to make logical leaps using clues that shouldn't have evoked his conclusions. Another good, but not great tale, straining my belief a touch too much, which was the kiss of death (another horrible pun, given the plot).
I heard hinted echoes of Dhalgren in "The Atelier," a dystopian post-disaster (and pre-even-bigger-disaster) tale set in a fractured Europe held together by authoritarianism. But Delaney's novel was far superior to this tale, which is only a faint, thin shadow of the former. I found rays of hope in the hopelessness, but, again, this story just wasn't really "for" me.
Again, it's not a bad collection, just not up to my expectations of Tartarus' usual work. Do I regret buying it? No. I don't think I can ever regret buying a Tartarus title - they are, to me, the height of craftsmanship and elegant design. Would I buy it again, knowing what I know now? Also no. Like I said: maybe it's just me. High expectations + more experience over time = jadedness, I suppose. Then again, maybe it's not just me. You'll have to decide for yourself.
Can a story in which not one, but four deaths occur (one being an alleyway murder) be considered . . . comforting? Soft? Even loving? Carlson tells just such a tale in "Golden Book," in which an Ikiryo meets a young girl destined for her first encounter with death. This story is more of a blessing than a curse, as dark as it is.
"Coffee Shop" was ripe with dazzling poetics. Unfortunately, the incredible potential of the plot and language was unrealized. I wanted so much more than what the ending had to offer, but then again, that might have been the point of this story of trapped desperation?
I feel the same way about "Divining Rod" as I did about the last story. So much poetic potential, so little punch. This tale seemed to meander, directionless, like a series of disjunct writing exercises strung together on a frayed, insubstantial plot line. But again, maybe that was the point? I'll never know. Or maybe that is the point and I'm just too shallow of a reader to realize it?
I thought that maybe I would warm up to Carlson with the next tale. "Leopard-Spotted Scarf" is a touching (if tinged by horror) tale of a woman daring to become her childhood self, yet again. It's a bittersweet tale that doesn't telegraph the surprise ending, though one can likely figure out what's happening beforehand from the subtle cues left by the narrator. It's a Twilight-Zone-esque tale, which is one of the highest compliments I can give a story
Alas, the relative highs of "Leopard-Spotted Scarf" weren't reached again over the next few stories. "Corridor" is full of anticipatory horror past and present. Two journalists wait for the terrorists who are about to take them hostage. One has suffered throughout his life from an extreme neurosis about what will happen to him in the future. The other is terrified by the prospect of capture and death. But in this case, one's terrors can atone for the terror of another. A good (not great) tale of strange redemptions.
Somewhere along the way, I lost the thread of "Bradycardia". The heady mixture of dream and waking life, along with what might be psychosis, goaded along by a manipulative lover(?) gets almost too convoluted. There's a fine line between complex and incomprehensible, and I wavered over both sides of that line throughout.
The premise of "Stray," a story told by a dog about his many previous lives, was, to be honest, not to my liking. But Carlson handled that premise with tenderness and an ongoing emotional charge that won me over. I didn't like the idea, but the execution was handled by such a deft hand that I couldn't help but love the story.
Mood and atmosphere dominate "Strasse 60, Berlin". This story has a heightened sense of tension that gives it a higher ceiling of dread and eeriness than other stories thus far in the collection. The press of confusion is palpable. Chronology is shuffled and the narrator is misdirected by the phantoms of his own memories. A disconcerting, very effective story. This was more of what I had hoped for.
"Salt" is an excellent story of gaslighting by an authoritarian regime. It's a twisted narrative of unraveling untruth and an emotional gut punch to a narrator that may or may not be insane, but is absolutely in a lot of trouble.
Despite a baldly-telegraphed "twist" and some pushy histrionics, I rather liked "Monsieur Machine". Delivery aside, this was an excellent tale of love and ambition coming into stark contrast, then resolution of the dialectic. Given its mechanistic themes, there is an evocation of emotion that moves the reader while horrifying at the same time. Here love and loss combine to create awe and the awful.
I liked "I Loved You at Your Darkest," but didn't love it. Pardon the horrid attempt at a pun. Yes, the story twisted in an unexpected way, but resolved too quickly, in my mind, with the narrator able to make logical leaps using clues that shouldn't have evoked his conclusions. Another good, but not great tale, straining my belief a touch too much, which was the kiss of death (another horrible pun, given the plot).
I heard hinted echoes of Dhalgren in "The Atelier," a dystopian post-disaster (and pre-even-bigger-disaster) tale set in a fractured Europe held together by authoritarianism. But Delaney's novel was far superior to this tale, which is only a faint, thin shadow of the former. I found rays of hope in the hopelessness, but, again, this story just wasn't really "for" me.
Again, it's not a bad collection, just not up to my expectations of Tartarus' usual work. Do I regret buying it? No. I don't think I can ever regret buying a Tartarus title - they are, to me, the height of craftsmanship and elegant design. Would I buy it again, knowing what I know now? Also no. Like I said: maybe it's just me. High expectations + more experience over time = jadedness, I suppose. Then again, maybe it's not just me. You'll have to decide for yourself.
May 26, 2025
Everything is well written, well-paced, and competent. I just couldn't muster any enthusiasm or emotional response at all to any of the stories - Strasse 60, Berlin came the closest. The twists tend to come reliably at the end. I would definitely read other works from this author to see if they land more solidly.
March 22, 2023
A collection of dark stories varying in tone from light to very dark. Well written with more philosophy than gore, and more scary because of it
December 22, 2023
Some of the short stories are good but overall not as good or spooky as I hoped. The book quality is exceptional and worth the price alone.
Displaying 1 - 5 of 5 reviews