Melissa Mendes spent a decade crafting The Weight, first as a self-published series, then as a graphic novel. Set in 1940s rural America, it follows the turbulent youth of the protagonist, Edie, and the grinding realities of growing up in that era, especially for girls.

Shortly after Edie’s birth at her grandparents’ home, she and her mother, Marian, are taken away by Ray, the father and husband and an abusive drunk. They board a night train out of town, never informing the grandparents, Tess and Leland, of their whereabouts. 

Edie’s home life is grim. Her mother works with the public, at a store on a nearby military base, and often has a black eye, while young Edie simmers with rage at her mother’s treatment. Edie decides that she will not be a victim. She hits back when provoked, something that will ultimately lead to her undoing.

Despite her bleak life at home, Edie is seen running through tall grass with friends, playing games and embarking on adventures. On one such exploit, they raft down the river on dinghies stolen from the military base. On another, they discover a morgue and make off with packages of cookies from a staff cupboard. 

The situation at home escalates, and when eight-year-old Edie intervenes, her father turns his anger on her. Mendes uses fading images of her father atop Edie with his hands around her neck as she eventually loses consciousness. Then the panels go black. Later, Marian and Edie make a desperate run for the train to take them back to Tess and Leland, but Ray appears; only Edie boards, while Marian returns to face the music. After a tragedy and an initial rebellion, Edie settles at Tess and Leland’s farm, where she eventually thrives. 

Using an ink wash technique that lends the panels the look of old photographs, Mendes excels at drawing animals and rural landscapes, setting a tone that contrasts sharply with the story’s harsh realities. She relies on facial expressions more than speech bubbles to tell the story, and the narrative moves with elegance through three distinct periods: Edie with her parents, life with her grandparents, and finally Edie as a young mother. Violence and assault are far more common than moments of calm, though these scenes are tempered by the love and tenderness of Marian and Edie’s grandparents, along with touches of dark humour. At 580 pages, the book is physically unwieldy, though narratively graceful – a remarkable feat.

The Weight echoes Steinbeck’s themes – portraying people who long to escape systemic cycles of hardship and abuse, yet find themselves inevitably drawn back into them. This is tragically Edie’s reality. With little agency, life simply happens to her, as it did to many young women in the 1940s, when the absence of birth control left them with few choices, and the only alternative to an unwanted pregnancy was a dangerous, illegal, back-alley abortion. Mendes has stated that the repeal of Roe v. Wade influenced the story, underscoring how these struggles remain painfully relevant even today.

I found the themes of domestic violence and unwanted pregnancy heavy, but the graphic novel format softened their impact, making them easier to digest than they might have been in prose. As a Gen Xer, the story felt timeworn, yet I believe the intended audience – younger generations – will experience it through a different lens. 

Mendes was right to call it The Weight, a title that captures the gravity of these issues. Yet the book serves a larger purpose: it illuminates what everyday life was like for women without access to birth control or safe, legal abortions – a reality that bears remembering, especially today. For this poignant reminder, Mendes deserves congratulations.mRb