“This book was not supposed to exist.”
Title: It’s Lonely at the Centre of the Earth
Author: Zoe Thorogood
Pages: 196
Published by: Image Comics (2022)
Content warning: This novel includes (very) direct references to suicide and self-harm
Fresh off the success of The Impending Blindness of Billie Scott, Zoe Thorogood was a rising star in the comic book industry, on the cusp of her big break — and then COVID hit. It’s Lonely at the Centre of the Earth documents the six-month period of her life during this time.
Feeling an imposter, and uncomfortable with ‘the future of comics’ moniker hanging over her head, this autobiographical meta-narrative is a heady cocktail of dark humour, messy mental health days, and a unique look into the mind of a talented but troubled writer.
In fact, It’s Lonely at the Centre of the Earth ‘was not meant to exist’ in a final, published form — but thank god it does.
A portrait of the artist as a young woman
The blending of art styles within It’s Lonely at the Centre of the Earth is where things get really fascinating.
It’s intentionally disruptive of its own form, with Thorogood experimenting with a combination of real photos, manga-style versions of herself, and her own uniquely identifiable art style that blends the best of western and east-Asian influences. And when these styles overlap on the same page — often crossing into the same pane — it’s pure, creative magic.
The tone of the novel will divide readers. It’s about mental health from the perspective of several versions of the same person. Readers’ mileage will vary with how much they wish to engage with this and — content warning — there is a lot of discussion of suicidal thoughts and self-harm within. Some readers may find this heavy going.
It’s self-deprecating and cynical, punctuated with the awkward bedfellow of manic joy, before the black dog descends and swallows her up. And that perspective of self-sabotage and the feeling of being taken hostage by your own self bleeds through onto the page through some vivid and truly impressive uses of illustration.
However, it’s important to note that It’s Lonely at the Centre of the Earth does all this without glamourising suffering.
But it’s also hilarious, uplifting even in parts, albeit in flat-out deadpan and self-referential ways. Thorogood directly addresses the reader throughout, calling out critics — like this one — for the simpering praise showered upon her, and even ‘scraps’ the novel half-way through.
Trust me, it’s one you’ll need to see to believe — it’s brilliant. In short, this is meta-(non)fiction at its best.
Conclusion
It’s Lonely at the Centre of the Earth is a stellar piece of writing, and a prime example of what the graphic novel genre can offer in the hands of a talented writer and illustrator.
The tone may not jive with every reader. It’s dark and brooding at times, and there’s a lot of introspection on behalf of the author. But this is a memoir, so it’s inherently self-reflective. And a very good memoir at that.
With shades of Catcher in the Rye, Zoe and Holden both sharing a prickly sensitivity towards inauthenticity, It’s Lonely at the Centre of the Earth is a phenomenal read and a modern classic of the graphic novel genre. Go buy a copy.
