In this new graphic memoir, D. Boyd transports the reader to junior high in 1970s Atlantic Canada. The cartoon art style, unassuming in black and white, is accessible to all readers as an effective backdrop for both the setting and theme of the memoir. Trooper and Pink Floyd play in the background, a scolding mother uses words like reprobate, high school is free of cellphones and social media, and the haircuts are downright groovy. Boyd, whose first graphic memoir, Chicken Rising, was nominated for the Doug Wright Award for emerging talent, presents in Denniveniquity a set of connected vignettes that depict a coming-of-age story driven by teenage rebellion, experimentation, and feelings of inadequacy. 

Womanhood is an important topic throughout the book. At the start, Dawn’s mother tells her she is much too young to be “boy crazy” and attempts to convince her daughter to get a breast reduction. Yet, later, when Dawn tries on some of her mother’s old clothing, she is “a young lady now,” and “should start acting like it.” Dawn’s face falls from one panel to the next. What is a young lady? How do you act like one? These questions are not explicitly asked, and consequently remain unanswered, but Dawn’s shame is palpable on the page. Boyd’s black and white illustrations are particularly effective in these moments – her drawings, and the emotions on their faces, make everything seem very real. 

Sexually charged taunting and sexual assault are commonplace – and unpunished – in the school hallways and classrooms of Denniveniquity. The teen girls are used to it, and try to convince each other that the attention they receive is positive. “See,” Dawn’s friend says to her after she is groped in the hallway, “guys like you.” Assaults are brushed off as unserious, while a vague schoolyard flirtation is paired with a mother’s warning: “That’s how you get yourself raped!” This kind of behaviour and brusque language may not be so commonplace today, but modern young women can nevertheless relate to the feelings they evoke. Many readers will identify with Dawn in those unsettling moments and how difficult it can be to process this kind of experience as a young girl. Boyd’s sharing of her embarrassment and shame reads as its own act of rebellion – she puts it all out there to show that it was real, but doesn’t linger on it, because this sort of behaviour was considered “normal.” 

Denniveniquity also chronicles Dawn’s first experimentations with alcohol and relationships. When she starts seeing Nick Dorsey, Dawn’s parents don’t approve. There are rumours that he throws pot parties and worships the devil. He even lives “on the wrong side of the tracks.” Nevertheless, his bad-boy charm endears him to Dawn and to the reader. Their relationship is almost nostalgic: in comparison to today’s social media-driven scene, dating seems uncomplicated. Rather than stalking your crush on Instagram, you might just follow him around your small town. Your parents may disapprove, but Life360 or Find My Friends wouldn’t betray your secret relationship, for better or for worse. There are many differences between teenage romance in the 1970s and now, but also many similarities. Awkwardness and indecisiveness radiate from the page, reminding the reader of their own mistake-filled first love experiences. 

In Denniveniquity, D. Boyd generously shares an intimate portrait of her junior high experience in a small Canadian town. Boyd does not offer any direct reflections about her past, but rather allows the reader to come to their own conclusions. The world was different, the world was the same. The memoir tells Dawn’s story without dwelling on scenes a reader might, in hindsight, find shocking. The story moves forward because, like the young women who lived through it, it must.mRb