I’m uncomfortable with the term “graphic memoir,” which to me connotes a memoir with graphically violent or sexual content. However, it seems to be accepted parlance nowadays for a graphic novel that’s autobiographical rather than fictional. Tillie Walden’s Spinning is in the same vein as Alison Bechdel’s Fun Home and Craig Thompson’s Blankets: a touching coming-of-age story delivered through the medium of comics.

Specifically, this is about the 12 years Walden spent in the competitive figure skating world. She grew up in New Jersey, and when the family moved to Austin, Texas the bullying she’d experienced in her previous school continued. Mornings started at 4 a.m. when she got up for individual skating lessons; after school she had synchronized skating practice at another rink.

These years were full of cello lessons, unrequited crushes and skating competitions she rode to with her friend Lindsay and Lindsay’s mother. The femininity of the skating world – the slicked-back buns and thick make-up; the way every girl was made to look the same – chafed with Walden because she’d known since age five that she was gay. All told, she was disillusioned with what once seemed like her whole life:

Skating changed when I came to Texas. It wasn’t strict or beautiful or energizing any more. Now it just felt dull and exhausting. I couldn’t understand why I should keep skating after it lost all its shine.

Every chapter is named after a different skating move: waltz jump, axel, camel spin, etc. Walden’s drawing style initially reminded me most of This One Summer by Jillian and Mariko Tamaki, which is also about teens finding their way in the world and shares the same mostly purple and gray coloring. Walden’s work is more sketch-like, and also includes yellow on certain pages. The last third or so of the book is the most momentous: between when Walden comes out at 15 and when she gives up skating at 17.

Believe it or not, Walden was born in 1996 and this is her fourth book. She’s already won two Ignatz Awards. I felt this book would have benefited from more hindsight: time to mull over her skating experience and figure out what it all meant. The Author’s note at the end struck me as particularly shallow, like this project was about quick catharsis rather than considered reflection. However, the book’s scope (nearly 400 pages) is impressive, and Walden is adept at capturing the emotional milestones of her early life.

Published in the UK on September 12th. With thanks to Paul Smith of SelfMadeHero – celebrating its 10th anniversary this year – for the free copy for review.

My rating: