Sphyridis' work - nine collections of stories and two novels since 1977 - is characterized as a whole by constant and extensive autobiographical references, with the result that the limits between fiction and the recreation of the author's experiences is unclear. In contemporary Greek prose, there are numerous instances of writers who expand some actual event, embellishing it with imaginary extensions. The case of Sphyridis, however, is more akin to that of two other notable writers who appeared on the literary scene in the '60s: Christoforos Milionis and I.H. Papadimitrakopoulos. In each of these writers, the process of enlarging on the initial experience is often based on detailed digressions or self-referential comparisons of the then with the now, in such a way that the reader, while having the event narrated to him, converses with the author as a character participating in the narration and as an invisible figure commenting on the events unfolding.
The Kidney Transplant, an extensive narrative following the process just described, consciously confuses the real with the imaginary. It has as its focus the story of the author's kidney-patient sister, but it extends its dramatic imprints to an entire community of similar patients, desperately seeking treatment in a world in which the miracle is interwoven with hopes, disappointments, charlatanism and cruel exploitation. From this point of view, as documentation, that is, Sphyridis' book presents us an India devoid of myth, with the trade in human organs as the pinnacle of its misery, and the worthlessness of life as the counterbalance to its exotic side, to its descriptions by travellers and its tropical, colourful atmosphere.
With an often rapid humorous narration, with the author's detailed language functioning as documentary evidence of the events, the Kidney Transplant, is a book that opens up to us a contemporary Dantean limbo, equally nightmarish as the fictional original, thereby returning allegory to the dimensions of the realistic.