Book review: ‘Moonface: A True Romance’ by Angela Balcita

What makes the ideal gift this Valentine’s Day? Flowers or chocolate? A romantic picnic?

How about a kidney?

At parties, Angela Balcita tells us in her memoir “Moonface,” she and her boyfriend Charlie have a comic routine they tell about how they are joined not at the hip, but at the kidneys. Charlie provided the most unexpected kind of gift — one of his own kidneys — to help Balcita, who learned in college that she had glomerulonephritis, a disease that affects how the kidneys filter blood.

Despite what you might expect, her tone is light and amused — the best kinds of memoirs are those in which the author creates a special magic with humor that opens up your heart to bear all the other tragedies to come. Witty banter, be still my heart. Or in Balcita’s case, her kidney.

And Balcita’s book, in the early going, does just that: It starts off as pure George and Gracie Burns. I was along for the ride and I climbed into the back of a pickup truck along with George and Gracie, hitching a ride as I listened to the comic-tragic love story of this devil-may-care couple. George doled out the funny lines, Gracie handed out naive retorts. As in all relationships, comedy teams are a give and take. But after the first few miles, unfortunately, the scenery doesn’t change, the surroundings look the same, the storyteller sounds the same, and my butt is starting to get sore.

A not-so-comedic tale can also be delicious, and February is, after all, the month for love stories. I read on. But Balcita’s lack of self-awareness was making my own kidneys ache. It’s a memoir, some may say a navel-gazer, but when executed with deftness the author should delve into self-realization, not self-congratulation. Early in the story, Balcita says — in reference to her dorm mate dating the guy she herself wanted to date — before she had to go to the hospital, “this is what kidney disease can do to you. It can make clear the things you stand to lose.” Is she trying to be funny? I hope so, but it’s more the straight man without her funny partner.

Charlie is Balcita’s second donor. Her brother donated a kidney when she was 18. “I had to believe that with kidney transplants some sort of magic exists,” Balcita says. Her mother says she took on her brother’s quick temper after she received her first kidney transplant from him — but the magic never shows up again.

After her recovery from her brother’s donation, she meets Charlie. And he’s a keeper. When the constant onslaught of colds or infections alert her to the reality of how much this disease takes from her, she cries, “Oh no, Charlie, here come the faucets.” “Pretend I’m the sink!” he says back. He takes care of her, he saves her on all her straight lines, gives her a kidney when her body rejects her brother’s, and later even teaches her how to be a mother.

Against Charlie’s, and everyone else’s better judgment, Balcita decides to get pregnant — a pregnancy that will not only put Charlie’s donor kidney at risk, but her life and the baby’s. It makes the reader want to question the maternal instinct: How can she take uncertain risks? After the premature birth, and Balcita is placed in a separate hospital, she says, “I like to think that maybe I am sick so [the baby] doesn’t have to be … I took it all for her.”. This she says when the baby is in an isolette in ICU and weighs a mere 2 pounds. Later, thinking of 10 years in the future, she wonders “if she’ll be taking care of me or if I’ll still be able to take care of her.”

There is a third donor, but I won’t spoil the ending of “Moonface.” Balcita has gone through much in her short life, but without perceptiveness — maybe Charlie should write this story, the perspective of rising from circus clown to ringmaster. In the end, the memorable characters are the organ donors: Caregiver and caretaker are no longer synonyms to me.

Wallen is the author of the novel “MoonPies and Movie Stars.”