Montreal-based Arizona O'Neill's superb graphic novel debut, Opioids & Organs, strikingly melds vulnerable memoir, illuminating explorations of historical and contemporary medical industry, investigative international travelogue, and razor-sharp literary references. "To the parts of my father still out in the world," her intriguing dedication states, challenged by a green-eyed yellow lizard who warns, "I advise against proceeding."
When Arizona receives a heartfelt letter, complete with happy family photo, from a stranger whose life was saved through organ donation--her father's heart beats in his chest--a friend responds, "This is great.... Something good came from his death." Arizona initially queries, "Do you think they know the heart is from someone who died of a fentanyl overdose?" then quickly devolves into agonized accusations: "The medical industry is stealing organs from the opioid addicts.... They let my dad die and USED HIM FOR PARTS!" O'Neill magnificently transforms that rage into both testimony and exposé of how "Canada's opioid crisis is helping put an end to the organ shortage in our country."
Arizona's father died in 2015. Despite sustained addiction struggles, his 41-year-old comatose body was otherwise "young, healthy, and well preserved. The perfect condition for organ harvesting." At the hospital, instead of getting answers surrounding his collapse and brain death, Arizona had legal papers pushed upon her to "donate his organs to those suffering from a more... 'acceptable' illness." And so she signed away his body parts. Years later, Arizona demands to know more. Izzy the yellow lizard from the dedication, who is seemingly a permanent fixture on her shoulder since birth, opines, "You're becoming too repetitive.... I'm getting bored." But Arizona insists she "need[s] to learn more about organ transplantation." Despite Izzy's objections that "leaving the house is overrated," Arizona meets up with Frankenstein's monster--the (mostly) gentle giant prefers to be called "Frankie"--and the trio embark on an epic journey through graveyards, academic institutions, libraries, museums, Parisian catacombs, and an Alice(-less) Wonderland, to figure out "How did we go from being disgusted by Doctor Frankenstein's inhumane use of people's remains, to seeing organs from the deceased as a 'gift of life'?"
O'Neill proves her superlative artistry across every page, balancing simplified line art with meticulously detailed realism (her architectural backgrounds are particularly stunning). She relies on predominantly muted colors to reflect the emotional burdens she's hoping to lessen; distant history happens in black-and-white. Her "weird daydreams" manifest with cameos by fantastical creatures, animated body parts, and human meat markets. "I am hoping that by telling my story, I will be able to make peace with it." --Terry Hong
Shelf Talker: Graphic novelist Arizona O'Neill presents a striking debut about the organ industry that benefited from her 41-year-old father's death from a fentanyl overdose.