Isabel Greenberg’s gorgeous, queer, feminist graphic novel re-released to coincide with a film adaptation of the same name. Set in Greenberg’s richly-imagined universe of Early Earth, and inspired by tales of Scheherazade, her book pays homage to oral traditions and women storytellers. Early Earth with its looming towers and powerful men is an intriguing blend of ancient male-centred and repressive puritan societies. Men hold all the power here. Mostly confined to the domestic sphere, women are forbidden to even read or write. Those that do are liable to be tried and executed for witchcraft.

Greenberg introduces rank misogynists Manfred and Jerome entangled in a bitter debate about the evils of women. Manfred longs for what’s essentially a trad wife but can’t understand why he hasn’t found one. When Jerome smugly announces he has such a wife, they strike an unusual bargain. Jerome will go away for one hundred nights leaving Manfred free to see if he can seduce Jerome’s wife Cherry. Thus, proving no woman can be trusted. But what Jerome hasn’t worked out is that Cherry’s deeply in love with her maid Hero and vice-versa. So, when Manfred comes calling, they hatch a plan to save Cherry from his clutches: spinning yarns that last through the night, a distraction Manfred finds unexpectedly irresistible.

Greenberg’s love of folklore, myth and magic feeds into the women’s stories. These include retellings of classic fairy tale “The Twelve Dancing Princesses” and the chilling British murder ballad “The Two/Twa Sisters.” Cherry and Hero’s narratives are packed with memorable details from eerie “Thing Trees” to the sinister bog people who try to imprison the moon. All of the chosen tales focus on women navigating and deftly subverting a patriarchal culture in which they’ve been cast as minor characters. As each night passes, Cherry and Hero strive to find a way to live freely and together. It’s an arresting piece overall, bittersweet but laced with flashes of wry humour. Greenberg’s text and arresting artwork fit together perfectly; and I loved her restrained but bold use of colour. Highly recommended.

Quality Rating: Five Stars
Enjoyment Rating: Five Stars

Since reading this graphic novel for the first time in 2017, it has been amongst my favourite books of all time, forever. At a time when I was finding my voice as a storyteller and recognising the patterns and power hierarchies and magic in the world, it was entirely pivotal to my worldview and my own sense of justice and worth. For the longest time, I was adamant that I wanted to adapt it when I became a filmmaker.

You can understand my heartbreak, then, when it was announced that an adaptation was in fact being made, directed by Julia Jackson, starring Emma Corin, Maika Monroe, Nicholas Galitzine and more. That heartbreak didn't last very long though, because it was being made, and well by the looks of things. Having secured tickets to the BFI London Film Festival Closing Gala of the film thanks to a friend, and preparing for the premiere of my second short film, itself inspired by myth, I knew I needed to reread it. I was not disappointed.

The One Hundred Nights of Hero is a story about storytellers, about courage in the face of fascism, and about the preciousness of words and the agency to use them for good. You never know what world a book or film or any other form of art will be released into; these days, by the time people see the final thing, it's been a long time since it was created. But some works of art ring true - sometimes even more so - when they're released. It's what makes them wild, and why the audience are part of their creation.

The point of fairy tales is sometimes oversimplified or sometimes objectively miscategorised as stories teaching people moral tales. If you'd like to avoid a little academic context, skip these two paragraphs, because I wrote my dissertation on this stuff and I'll be damned if I'm not using it. Moral tales, generally, actually align with animal tales or fables - two of the six types of traditional oral storytelling genres. Mythology and legends, intrinsically tied to religion, explore concepts of right and wrong in their respective cultures.

But fairy tales and folklore (generally speaking) were special because they weren't made to instruct, but to cope. We largely believe fairy tales and folklore to have been created by the people, for the people, in times of upheaval and persecution, prejudice and against the unfathomable natural world. They weren't stories that told you what to do if you ever found yourself in a certain situation; they were stories that said, if this ever befalls you, you have survived and this is how you get up again. They are, at their core, about making knowledge and courage accessible to all. This is why the characters in fairy tales and folklore are largely unnamed and predominantly without identifying features in the way that legends and myths distinguish mortals and deities, and how animal tales and fables paint certain character traits as animalistic stereotypes.

So, then, this fairy tale of epic proportions, inspired by timeless classics like A Thousand and One Arabian Nights and the Twelve Dancing Princesses, is about storytellers telling stories in the face of fear and oppression. Okay, sure, simple enough, we've seen it all before, right? The market is undeniably now richer with narratives inspired by these ancient traditions, but in the eight years since I first read this book, I still haven't experienced something that came close to its gentleness, its defiance and its acknowledgement of pain that comes along with it all. Hero and Cherry, and their characters and ancestors, and even the men around them (good boys, just like Paris Paloma says) all suffer from the society and traditions they have been locked within, and pushing against it draws blood. It's scary. But the stories patch them together again. They teach us to get up again.

This book is a celebration of storytelling itself — bold, magical, and utterly enchanting. Isabel Greenberg weaves together myths, fables, and fairy-tale logic into something that feels timeless and yet fiercely modern.

At its heart, it’s a tale of love and resistance: Hero and her beloved Cherry defying betrayal, cruelty, and the whims of men through the sheer power of stories. I loved the way the narrative echoed One Thousand and One Nights — with Hero spinning tales across a hundred evenings — but infused with sharp wit and feminist fire.

The world is brimming with wonder: moons that tumble from the sky, talking instruments, scheming husbands, loyal sisters, and wise crones. It’s playful and surreal, but beneath the whimsy is something much deeper — a fierce defence of women’s voices, love in all its forms, and the belief that stories themselves can be weapons of survival.

Greenberg’s illustrations (if you’re reading the graphic edition) are stark, striking, and perfectly matched to the tone — part folk-art, part dreamscape. Even without them, the storytelling sings with humour, heartbreak, and brilliance.

Inventive, defiant, and full of magic — The One Hundred Nights of Hero is a love letter to the power of stories and the strength of women who tell them.

Oh this was phenomenal. Visually stunning, the art style was superb, the use of colour and the sketchy style really work well with this.

The story was beautiful. Heartbreaking and heartwarming, adventurous and horrifying. I was crying by the end, the perfect conclusion. I could have read a hundred more stories from Hero. Just amazing, everyone needs to read this.

Thank you to NetGalley, the publisher and the author for this ARC.

The movie is coming out in December!

To be honest, I didn’t know much about this book when I requested it on NetGalley, and I didn’t expect such a thought-provoking read. In the fashion of 1001 Nights, the maid Hero weaves a web of stories for one hundred nights to save her lover‘s life. Her stories take the characters through space and time, through folk tales and fairytales, from the moon to the earth. In this universe, where women aren’t allowed to read or write, stories are their only escape. Through stories, they can be free.

I throughly enjoyed reading this graphic novel, even though I didn’t get all of the references. This is one of those books that needs to be read a few times in order to understand all the nuances and symbolism. Some readers might not like the art style, but I think it’s precisely the simplistic nature of the art that makes this book hit so hard. The art supports the story and doesn’t carry it, like in so many other graphic novels. I wish there’d been more stories!

Anyway, never forget what women have accomplished.

I loved this graphic novel inspired by the 1001 Arabian Nights and given a full on feminist emphasis, the stories and the illustrations were perfect and I did feel like I was under a spell where time became out of sync while I was reading the book. There's no Disney endings to these tales but in a world where women seem to be losing autonomy it was a timely read.

That was SO GOOD. I'm going to go and buy two copies - one for myself and one for my sister-friend. I loved everything about The One Hundred Nights of Hero - the way that it made old stories new, the bitingly funny tone, the way the words we weave change the world. And the artwork is perfect for the prose - it's quirky and fun, and still manages to have so much movement to it.
I'm sure I'll have more to say about this after it's percolated through my brain for a little while, but it's so rare that I finish a book and need to immediately tell people how good it is, that I thought I'd review it while I'm still in this excited state.
Thank you so much for the chance to enjoy this!