How Many Pages Does 'It'S Lonely At The Centre Of The Earth' Have?

I grabbed my copy of 'It's Lonely at the Centre of the Earth' from a local comic shop that specializes in indie graphic novels. The owner recommended it after seeing me pick up similar introspective works like 'Blankets' and 'Persepolis'. Many brick-and-mortar stores carry it if they have a decent graphic novel section. For online shoppers, Amazon has both paperback and Kindle versions ready to ship. The publisher's website sometimes offers signed copies or special editions if you want something extra for your collection. I prefer physical copies for artwork-heavy books like this one—the emotions hit harder when you can turn actual pages.

I recently dove into 'It's Lonely at the Centre of the Earth' and was struck by how raw and personal it feels. The author, Zoe Thorogood, is a British comic artist and writer who poured her own struggles with mental health into this graphic memoir. What makes her work stand out is the way she blends stark honesty with surreal visuals—her art style shifts between detailed realism and chaotic scribbles to mirror emotional states. Thorogood isn't just telling a story; she's dissecting the creative process itself, showing how isolation and depression warp perception. Her background in indie comics shines through in the experimental layouts, where some pages feel like fever dreams. The book's title perfectly captures its essence: that terrifying yet universal feeling of being trapped inside your own mind while the world moves on without you. What's fascinating is how Thorogood's earlier works, like 'The Impending Blindness of Billie Scott', also explore themes of vulnerability through art. In 'It's Lonely...', she takes it further by breaking the fourth wall, literally drawing herself as a character wrestling with self-doubt. Her influences range from Junji Ito's horror manga to Craig Thompson's autobiographical comics, but her voice is unmistakably her own—darkly humorous one moment, devastating the next. This isn't just another mental health narrative; it's a masterclass in using comics as therapy, with every pen stroke serving as both confession and catharsis.

I've been following Zoe Thorogood's work closely, and 'It's Lonely at the Centre of the Earth' stands as a complete graphic memoir. The story wraps up its core themes about mental health and self-discovery without leaving major loose ends. Thorogood hasn't announced any continuation plans, which makes sense given the personal nature of the project. Her newer works like 'The Impending Blindness of Billie Scott' explore different narratives instead of extending this one. The beauty of this book lies in its raw, self-contained punch - adding sequels might dilute its impact. If you loved her art style, check out 'The Girl from the Sea' by Molly Knox Ostertag for another poignant standalone graphic novel.

I just finished reading 'It's Lonely at the Centre of the Earth' and it's a wild ride. The book blends memoir with surreal graphic storytelling, making it hard to pin down to one genre. At its core, it's autobiographical—raw, honest, and deeply personal. But the way it uses fantastical elements, like anthropomorphic emotions and dreamlike sequences, pushes it into experimental fiction territory. It feels like a hybrid of graphic novel and diary, with a heavy dose of mental health exploration. The art style shifts dramatically to match the tone, from scribbled chaos to stark minimalism. If you enjoy works that defy traditional labels, this is your jam.

I recently picked up 'It's Lonely at the Centre of the Earth' and was immediately struck by its unique format. It's absolutely a graphic novel, but it defies so many expectations of the genre. The artwork is raw and expressive, blending surreal imagery with deeply personal storytelling. Zoe Thorogood uses visuals not just to complement the narrative but to elevate it, creating this immersive experience where the illustrations often convey emotions words can't capture. The way panels flow into each other, sometimes chaotic, sometimes meticulously structured, mirrors the protagonist's mental state perfectly. What makes it stand out is how it balances autobiography with artistic experimentation. It's not just a story told through pictures; it's a visual diary of depression, creativity, and self-discovery. The graphic novel format allows Thorogood to play with symbolism in ways prose couldn't achieve—like when she depicts herself as different cartoon versions or when negative thoughts manifest as literal monsters on the page. The medium becomes part of the message, proving how powerful comics can be for exploring complex emotional landscapes. If you're looking for something that pushes what graphic novels can do while staying brutally honest, this is a masterpiece worth experiencing.

The protagonist in 'The Centre' is a fascinating character named Elias, who starts off as a seemingly ordinary office worker stuck in the monotony of corporate life. What makes Elias stand out is his gradual transformation as he gets drawn into the mysterious organization known as The Centre. At first, he's just a cog in the machine, but as the story progresses, we see him develop this sharp, almost paranoid awareness of the hidden power structures around him. The beauty of his character lies in how relatable his initial skepticism is, yet how compelling his journey becomes as he uncovers deeper truths. Elias isn't your typical hero—he's flawed, sometimes making questionable decisions out of curiosity or desperation. The Centre manipulates his sense of identity, making him question his own memories and motivations. His relationships with other characters, especially his strained ties with family and friends outside The Centre, add layers to his personality. The way he balances survival instincts with moral dilemmas creates this intense psychological depth that keeps readers hooked. The author does a brilliant job of showing his internal conflicts through subtle actions rather than lengthy monologues, making his evolution feel organic and unpredictable.

The setting of 'The Centre' is this sprawling, futuristic megacity that feels like a character itself. From what I gathered, it's located in what used to be Central Europe, but geography takes a backseat to the vertical urban sprawl. The city climbs kilometers into the sky with these neon-lit megastructures, while the ground level is all shadowy undercity markets. The climate's artificially controlled, so you get these perpetual twilight skies with occasional artificial rainfall. The surrounding 'Dead Zones' are hinted to be radioactive wastelands from some past collapse, making the Centre this isolated beacon of advanced technology and dystopian social control. The lack of clear national borders adds to that unsettling vibe of being everywhere and nowhere at once.

The main conflict in 'The Centre' revolves around the protagonist's struggle with identity and power within a secretive organization that controls global information. The protagonist, initially a low-level employee, discovers the organization manipulates historical events and public perception. As they climb the ranks, they face moral dilemmas about whether to expose the truth or maintain the status quo for personal gain. The tension builds as they uncover deeper layers of deception, questioning who to trust among colleagues who might be complicit. The climax pits personal ethics against institutional loyalty, with the protagonist's choices determining the fate of millions.