No review can do this justice. I'm sorry.
Well, I'll try anyway.
I had never even heard of Isabel Greenberg's 'The One Hundred Nights of Hero' until I happened upon it in my local library one day, checking out the comics area. It looked interesting, so I thought that the next day, when I had more time, I would read it in the library in one sitting. I couldn't borrow it then because my bag was nowhere near big enough, and I didn't want to carry it around as I walked all the way to work. Next day came, and I panicked when I saw it had gone; thinking that someone else had beat me to it, and I would have to wait who knows how long to get a chance to read it. Typical. I had just given up hope looking for it, when what should I spot on a shelf right next to me, but the same copy of 'The One Hundred Nights of Hero'. It had been moved to a different place. Also kind of typical. But I wasted no time in sitting and settling down and reading the hardcover beast.
I drank and devoured its 224 pages in less than two hours. I hardly felt the same again afterwards, especially later at work when I couldn't sift it out of my mind.
Because 'The One Hundred and One Nights of Hero' does what all good fiction does: Tells compelling and clever stories that fit together just right, with characters worth caring about and rooting for. Crafted with passion and ease; taking risks and never holding back, never apologising. It gives off hope. Hope for the future even during such dire times. All that makes it so unforgettable.
I think I feel comfortable saying that 'The One Hundred Nights of Hero' might beat 'Rapunzel's Revenge' as my favourite comic of all time. When I received my own copy, two days after ordering it from Amazon, I rearranged my shelves drastically so I could fit this giant in properly and show it off in a deserved spotlight on top.
Aesthetically, thematically and symbolically, 'The One Hundred Nights of Hero' contains practically everything I love in stories: fairy tales; giving credence to the importance of stories (such as using them as a catalyst to start a revolution) and reading and writing; strong and passionate female leads; sisterhood; unflinching feminism; tools on how to dismantle the patriarchy; a LBGTQ romance between main characters; moon symbolism; magical spells and stones (metaphorical or not); an epic saga about a war that reaches across generations (a metaphorical war also counts); spirituality and the meaning of life, and its focus on women and how vital they are to any kind of survival for humanity.
A cliff notes version of this graphic novel tale is: A brief history of our "Early Earth" and how it came to be at the hands of a jealous male god. Then the main story begins, about two women in love, Cherry and Hero, living in a pious patriarchal society where reading and writing for women is forbidden - punishable by death. They plan to foil a monstrous bet made between Cherry's arrogant misogynistic husband and his equally vile friend, which sees the friend seeking to seduce and sleep with Cherry before the husband comes back from a trip lasting one hundred nights; thus proving that women are sneaky and unfaithful in nature (the complete irony of this is not lost on the comic, and its jabs at the patriarchy are hilarious as well as informative). It's also to prove somehow that women are stupid and easily swayed under a man's ruling thumb. But together Cherry and Hero prove how easily swayed the husband's friend is by having Hero (who's a maid at Cherry's castle home) tell stories to him every night to keep him from bedding Cherry - for one hundred nights. That is Hero's gift, and a gift passed on from woman storytellers of the past. Unable to read and write, they crafted stories using tapestries and their own strong, independent voices, bursting to be heard and listened to at campfires; for generations to come.
And the stories are beautiful. Tragic, but they shine in an ethereal, sweet, hopeful light. Even the male guards at Cherry's castle end up spellbound by them, told in Hero's way.
What happens to Cherry and Hero in the end? That is a story I cannot tell you myself, due to spoilers and my own inability to articulate it as it should be at this moment in time. Read Isabel Greenberg's work yourself to find out.
The artwork mixes childlike with brilliance, like a true waxing and waning moon, shadowing towards a bright full; like getting lost and then found in a deep, dark wood. The symbolism and colouring and shading are paramount to fitting the various stories' themes and narratives together. It is art that is expressive and messy in a good way - it grabs at your attention. It reminded me of 'Adventure Time', but even darker.
'The One Hundred Nights of Hero' in its format and structure reads like a fairy tale all on its own for adults; not just because of the violence and injustice inflicted on women represented, and the lesbian content. It is similar to an anthology, or M. Night Shyamalan's 'Lady in the Water' done properly.
There isn't much else I can say about 'The One Hundred Nights of Hero'. It's unlike anything I've ever read, yet I feel it was made for me. It is a part of my story as much as it is a part of every woman's story. It is very funny feminism (bless Miss Greenberg's British wit shining through!). Fairy tale retellings feminism. Starstruck feminism, under the moon in all her beautiful glory and changing faces.
There is darkness (death; betrayal; cheating male lovers; tyrannical male family members; religious fanaticism as abuse of power, male dominance, fear-mongering and attention-seeking) and light (creativity; truth; righteous anger; adorable relationships; sisters; mothers; wise old women; men who are decent and loving; dancing; nature; and immortality via stories/legends) in equal balance. This labour of love has something for everyone, in fact, not only for women.
I will be reading the "prequel" and first of the author's 'Early Earth" graphic novels, 'The Encyclopedia of Early Earth', soon. For now, I'm content with 'The One Hundred Nights of Hero' as it is.
A lovely, silk-weaving victory. A hard-boiled, celestial storytelling mistresspiece.
Final Score: 5/5
EDIT: A day after writing this review, a copy of 'The Encyclopedia of Early Earth' did come to me, and I have read it. It is merely okay. Nowhere near the greatness of Miss Greenberg's later work (and nowhere near feminist, for that matter), which deserves a bright, moonstone spot in my heart and bookshelf.
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