Opus is a very unique manga, and holds a place in my heart for several reasons. Satoshi Kon sits on a pedestal as one of my favorite anime director's of all time, dazzling me with his gorgeous Inception-predecessor Paprika, and the psychological thriller that was Paranoia Agent. About a month ago I had stumbled upon a comic store near my University and decided to give it a go, spurred on by my childhood love for comic books. While perusing the small shop I came across a pile of unorganized books, and sitting at the top of the pile was Opus. The book's bright red exterior caught my eye, only to suck me in further as I gazed at Satoshi Kon's name printed across the cover. I was completely unaware of Kon's work as a mangaka, and swiped up the book without hesitation, along with his Seraphim 266613336 Wings, co-written by Ghost in the Shell's Mamoru Oshii. I have always read manga online, so Opus would be the first manga I've read and completed in it's physical form, which creates a sort of sentimental value for me.

Opus spans across 19 chapters, and seemed to be made for an eventual movie adaption judging by its length, and the pacing of the story as it unfolds. It follows the story of Chikara Nagai, a veteran mangaka on the verge of finishing his life's work, Resonance. With the stress of an impending deadline hanging over his shoulders, he draws the final climactic panels of his story. As Resonance comes to a close, Opus is only beginning, and in a very Kon-esque fashion, the world of the living and the world of fiction begin to become one in the same. Nagai is transported into the world of Resonance, and is quickly thrown into the chaos created by his own hand.

Opus's story isn't the most original, as diving into a world of fiction has been used countless times in media, but the way in which it is tackled is brilliant. Far too often these stories overlook the psychological value of connecting two different worlds. As a person from the "real" world parades through fictitious lands, the fabricated characters seem to only be affected by their presence enough to shrug it off or be briefly astonished. Opus puts more focus on the affects created by this unworldly occurrence, as it dawns on these people that their lives are nothing more than a story, written by a man who's just trying to create something entertaining, and more so, finish it by the deadline. Several scenes highlight the flustered reactions of Satoko and Lin (Resonance's main characters) as they battle their willingness to comprehend or even accept the reality that lay before them.

But what truly puts this story above the rest is Kon's obsession with blurring the lines between reality and fantasy. Zipping back and forth between the two worlds, we begin to see an underlying message that Kon may have intended to provoke; one which he has explored in his previous works and seems to have had a personal belief in; that reality and fiction are not so different, and perhaps that means there is no real boundary between the two. Opus shows us that the worlds we create, can only be created because we live in this world. All of our influences, memories, desires, emotions and ambitions become translated into stories that are not identical, but share a very human, very real sensation of life within the pages. This becomes apparent as Nagai struggles within his own mind on the stability of his world and the world he has created. But one thing does become clear, and it's that the world of Resonance is real to him. These characters are real to him and the lives that he created for Satoko and Lin, though guided by his own pen, is life nonetheless. This speaks to the integrity of an artist, and is perhaps a defining characteristic of their purpose as writers, which I think Kon meant to portray as an outlet for his own beliefs.

The story of Opus is thrilling, maintaining a pace which serves to keep your eyes glued in and flipping the pages. I won't go into more detail than I already have about the plot, but it slowly climbs and climbs, building tension as Nagai, Sakoto, and Lin battle to preserve the order of their two worlds. And just as the tale is reaching its dynamic peak, I was met with a grim sight. Unbeknownst to me, Opus was never completed. As Satoshi Kon's extraordinary career as a director took off, Opus was put on a permanent hiatus, never to be completed due to Kon's tragic, untimely death. Just as swiftly as Kon was taken from our world in the height of his profession, Opus too came to a heart-rending halt, leaving so much still to be answered, and nothing more to be done. Kon was a visionary in his field, and had many years ahead of him to further lay claim to his title as a legendary director, right up there with Hayao Miyazaki. While it pains us all that such a brilliant mind was cut short from his inventive excursions, my deepest wound came when I finished Opus, physically drained of emotion, knowing this story will never be complete.

Dark Horse published the manga in 2014, with an additional chapter found in Kon's personal files after his death. The extra chapter doesn't wrap up the story in any way, or progress it to a point of satisfactory closure, but it does add a melancholic irony to Kon's legacy. I won't detail the added chapter, but it draws on a very meta idea that Kon's struggle as an artist with publications, deadlines and the state of the industry are very real, and very taxing for people of his line of work, which may have been one of the biggest underlying messages hidden in Opus.

BUT, a lack of an ending should not discourage you from reading Opus! It is still the work of one of the greatest anime director's of all time and should not be overlooked. The art itself should be enough to compensate, living up to the beauty and execution you'd expected from the accomplished director. Characters are expressive and well-detailed, but even more so magnificent are the beautifully crafted backgrounds and cityscapes. Explosions are intricately stunning, showering the page with debris and rubble. Kon's direction always had a knack for dabbling into the realm of psychedelic set pieces, and Opus is no exception. Grandiose trips through the worlds of Opus are just as visually appealing as Kon's cinematic ventures, conveying several mind-bending scenarios in just a few well-drawn panels.

Opus is a short, but exquisitely bittersweet tale from one of the industries most talented minds, and its abrupt ending is a depressingly ironic twist of fate, further driving my sorrow for Satoshi Kon's unexpected passing. But any small taste of his work is enough to make me smile in appreciation for his genius. I am so very happy to have stumbled across Opus, and I'm excitedly ready to start Seraphim. But before that, maybe I'll watch Paprika just one more time! Rest in Peace Mr. Kon.