A Close Look at the use of Kidneys to discuss Economic and Immigration Issues through Vladimir Lorchenkov's The Good Life Elsewhere

 

There’s a good chance the general population of readers has not heard of Vladimir Lorchenkov, Moldova, or of his novel, The Good Life Elsewhere. When it comes to discussions around literature or the literary canon, literature from Moldova is less likely to be the topic of discussion. Nevertheless, here we are, talking about it. The Good Life Elsewhere is about the efforts of citizens of Moldova to immigrate to Italy. The tragicomic stories of the struggles of different citizens is set against the backdrop of the growing ties between Moldova and Russia and the xenophobia of Italy. Although Lorchenkov’s satire appears absurd and completely unbelievable, the book uses humor and kidneys to address issues of currency and worth.

The old village of Mingir is a hot spot for trafficking human kidneys, but the surprise is that the “kidneys were their own.” At first glance it’s a silly little story about an “old timer,” who after losing the eight thousand…no, four thousand….nope, the two thousand dollars he’d earned for selling a kidney to Israeli visitors who promised to pay big money for kidneys, quickly finds himself without money and without his health. Jan, the protagonist, needs another kidney and finds salvation through the idea of harvesting kidneys from a pig named Sunrise. All this talk of kidneys is reminiscent of James Joyce’s “Calypso” episode of “Ulysses,” when Mr. Bloom is thinking about kidney and his love of eating them, which is discussed in a blog post by Allie Bain titled “The Symbolic Use of the Kidneys in Episode Four of James Joyce’s “Ulysses”. Bain also reminds readers of the bathroom scene mentioning the disposal of waste from Mr. Bloom’s body. The function of kidneys is to remove waste from the body, and in both Joyce’s “Calypso” and Lorchenkov’s chapters 10 and 11, we see a taking in of waste and a removal of waste. Bain’s argument is that Joyce is “draw[ing] attention to the amount of waste that we take in on a daily basis;” however, there is a different argument to be made from Lorchenkov’s “kidneys” and it is that the people of Moldova, or impoverished persons in general, are the waste, especially when in possession of a valuable commodity.

The internet can be searched high and low for kidney symbolism within literature and there is much to be found on the matter. Kidneys are a big deal. What we see in the novel is that kidneys are the blood diamonds of Moldova, and although Lorchenkov chooses humor to illustrate the suffering the trafficking has caused Jan, and others mentioned in the chapter, the story has roots in a very unfunny reality.

On Youtube, there is a video by Al Jazeera English titled, “Moldova’s Organ Trafficking Misery” dating back to 2010. The host interviews several Moldovan villagers who, in 1996, were promised jobs in Istanbul, but upon arrival were held hostage and told they could not be released unless they gave away a kidney. Now the villagers suffer from major health issues and lack government assistance. Instead, the government claims to have “eradicated organ trafficking from their country” and offered each captive enough money for wood for the winter. Waste. The people, not the wood, at least according to their government. “The villagers lived in poverty, and what’s more, they lived in pain” is how Lorchenkov describes the people of Mingir, which can also be said for the real-life villagers of Mingir. In the novel, the visitors from Israel convinced the villagers to “put their kidney’s up for sale” in the hopes to receive a large lumpsum of money, and even though the villagers knew it wasn’t true, they still lined up to give away their kidney in order to make ends meet back home.

What is Lorchenkov saying? Is this a commentary on the cyclical nature of economics and how much is wasted on a daily basis? Is this about taking goods from poor people, to give to developed nations, but not compensating the poor? I really don’t know. Beyond the central conflict is commentary on issues surrounding immigration and trade. The chance to reach the promise land, Italy, for the Moldovans in the novel, seems hopeless, but the hope is still there even for people viewed as the waste of society only useful to be used. There is something to be said about the kidneys being used and imported and exported with ease, but the people of Moldova finding it difficult to reach Italy that is a mere day’s drive by car. Commodities travel through borders with ease, but people are stopped at every checkpoint. We’ll take the goods, but not the culture or people from which it came.

The transition between the end of chapter 10, when Jan dies because he cannot complete the kidney transplant on his own, to that of his wife making kidney soup reminds me of statement made by a government worker in the Youtube video about kidney trafficking in Moldova: “If something bad happens, it’s best to deny it exist.” Kidney soup is just that— the denial of an issue. Human organ trafficking is suddenly overshadowed by the prize-winning recipe. The recipe equals the money for wood that the Moldovans received as restitution from the kidney trafficking hostage situation. What’s not missed, within the varied, colorful ingredients listed, is a litany of similes to describe the treatment of Moldovans by outsiders. From the time they are born and baptized in “five cups of water,” they have salt aggressively rubbed into the “wounds of [their] heart” and pushed aside to deal with their issues in silence (in the kitchen). Kidneys were used for sacrifices and are symbolic of desire and are often mentioned in the Bible. The twelfth chapter is rich in allusions to both. Although it is a fun and quirky read, the pain behind the satire is still evident.