“The Night Eaters: She Eats the Night”

While busy with “Monstress,” creators Marjorie Liu and Sana Takeda somehow found time to simultaneously create “The Night Eaters” trilogy from Abrams ComicArts, a story about family and all the horrors that accompany it. The first book, ‘She Eats the Night’ came out October last year and it was one of our favorites, showing up on our 2022 lists for best artist and best original graphic novel. Read on for our long overdue and spoiler filled review.

Written by Marjorie Liu
Illustrated by Sana Takeda
Lettered by Chris Dickey

Chinese American twins, Milly and Billy, are having a tough time. On top of the multiple failures in their personal and professional lives, they’re struggling to keep their restaurant afloat. Luckily their parents, Ipo and Keon, are in town for their annual visit. Having immigrated from Hong Kong before the twins were born, Ipo and Keon have supported their children through thick and thin and are ready to lend a hand—but they’re starting to wonder, has their support made Milly and Billy incapable of standing on their own?

When Ipo forces them to help her clean up the house next door—a hellish and run-down ruin that was the scene of a grisly murder—the twins are in for a nasty surprise. A night of terror, gore, and supernatural mayhem reveals that there is much more to Ipo and her children than meets the eye.

Eisner Award–winning and bestselling author Marjorie Liu and illustrator Sana Takeda have crafted a wild and wicked tale that will leave readers hungry for more. She Eats the Night is the perfect start to The Night Eaters trilogy, which is a combination of Monsters by Barry Windsor-Smith and Crazy Rich Asians by Kevin Kwan.

I went into “The Night Eaters: She Eats the Night” knowing only two things: it was by the creative team behind “Monstress” (a series I adore) and it was the first in a trilogy. And I think that really is the best way to experience the book. Especially in comics, there’s such an effort to catch readers’ attention that marketing often gives away too much too soon. The “getting to know you” stage of the reader’s experience gets tangled up with the marketing machine. And when I think back to the first time I read “The Night Eaters,” it’s the “getting to know you” phase of the book I enjoyed the most. So, if you haven’t read the book yet, let me assure you it’s good, among my favorite titles for 2022. Go and read it now—don’t let my review spoil it for you.

Looking back on the book now, I love the choice to begin the book with Ipo arriving in Hong Kong in 1956, deciding to apply for a job as an actor, and musing to herself “It will be something familiar at least.” Right from the start, we’re told that the Ipo that we’re seeing is a performance and then we’re left to unpick what that could be.

And yet, the Ipo we’re introduced to over the next few pages hardly seems to be acting—she’s certainly not making herself more accommodating for those around her, and if something’s bothering her, she lets people know about it. Furthermore, we see these aspects of her personality reflected in her daughter, Milly, reinforcing that they are an authentic part of her.

And this is where I find the ‘She Eats the Night’ particularly charming. There is a mystery to Ipo right from the beginning, and that aspect could’ve been pushed harder, but it’s very quickly overtaken by the relationship dynamics between family members. The mystery continues on throughout the book, but it takes a backseat and character comes first. Through character we learn more about the mystery, but when we do, we’re so tangled up into the characters’ lives that the mystery element is a little plus to an already great scene, not the center of it.

And this is important, because when the revelation finally comes, instead of it playing out like a plot twist, instead it plays out as a character twist. Milly and Billy gain an understanding of their parents and of themselves they didn’t have before. As a result, it’s not the twist I respond to in the book, but how the characters react to the twist, how they behave afterward, and what it means to them on an emotional level. Because of this, if you guess the twist early on, it does nothing at all to diminish the power of the book. Those character beats stand strong regardless, and even become better on a reread.

And I love these characters. ‘She Eats the Night’ had my absolute favorite character beat in a 2022 comic:

I love Marjorie Liu and Sana Takeda’s “Monstress” and I’m always impressed with their character work, but ‘She Eats the Night’ really showcases their comedic timing. When I think of Takeda’s “Monstress” work, I think of her architectural work, her storytelling through detailed costuming—every page of “Monstress” feels like we’re not just seeing the story unfold, but we’re seeing a world with history and with culture. (This is a big part of the reason why I think “Monstress” is the best fantasy comic coming out at the moment.) In ‘She Eats the Night,’ Takeda’s style is looser, but this aspect of her storytelling ethos remains. If you ignore the speech balloons and just look at the environments and costuming, you get a strong sense of each character. Billy and his father, Keon, wear the same style of shirt, and that’s no coincidence. While Keon is calm throughout and Billy is constantly losing his cool, by the end of the story, we see Keon let loose and we understand that him being calm is a conscious choice.

This same approach is also what makes the comic’s horror sections work so well, especially the environmental storytelling. An unknown event took place in the past, so everything in the creepy house is a hint toward that event. And then, of course, there is the unconventional way Ipo responds to the house—not scared of it like all the color choices and panel composition choices are telling us she should be. I love the shape of these scenes where the house is uncanny and creepy and Ipo is normal, but by the end of the scene, that dynamic has flipped, with the house’s creepiness diminishing and Ipo’s ramping up. So often these scenes play out silently, just letting the art tell the story—a testament to how strong the Liu–Takeda partnership is.

There’s another creator at work here though that I wanted to mention, Chris Dickey and his lettering, which sits so gently in the page—not on top of it, in it. Dickey is not interested in creating lettering that sits above the art, as something separate, something other. It is meant to compliment Takeda’s art and so he takes cues from what she’s doing on the page. There is very little of any pure white on Takeda’s pages, and so Dickey follows her lead and makes the balloons off-white. Takeda’s linework isn’t pure black and it has a scratchy quality, so the perfectly smooth, symmetrical, and hard-black outlined speech balloons we often see in other books would feel out of place here. Like Takeda’s panel borders, Dickey’s balloons are rough edged. There’s no outline, instead just a soft shadow at the edge—again, like Takeda’s panel borders, the division between it and the art in the panel is softened.

Lettering tends to happen late in a comic’s production, with little time or money to experiment and find a style that best suits the art. This is not a reflection of the hardworking letterers, but rather of an industry that all too often does not give them what they need to do their best work. I don’t know what the situation was with Dickey’s work on this book, but from the outside, it seems like Dickey was at least given time to play with the lettering. And because of the level of harmony with the pages his lettering has, he has more range to play with when making lettering elements pop off the page when needed. You can see this especially with his sound effects, which can blend to the point of almost being lost in shadows, but at other times burst off the page in a dramatic moment.

The restraint with the sound effects was also very purposeful. They become a kind of chaos barometer. They’re not there at all when things are harmonious—just look at the scene when Keon is using a food processor and yet no sound effect.

But when something interrupts that harmony, a sound effect appears, like when Ipo spits out the drink moments later.

There are natural or comedic interruptions to harmony, which are small and gentle, and then there is the world-shaking stuff that takes over the page. The level of finesse in that range is possible because of Dickey’s complementary lettering choices.

“The Night Eaters: She Eats the Night” feels very much like an origin story for Milly and Billy. It’s a strong foundation with an emphasis on character—and the characters are absolutely the best part of the book. Marjorie Liu and Sana Takeda are one of the strongest partnerships in comics right now, so I’m eagerly anticipating the next chapter of “The Night Eaters” in October just so I can see what obstacles they throw at Milly and Billy and how those kids navigate them.