Review: Madapple

Author: Christina Meldrum
Release date: May 13th 2008
Publisher: Alfred A. Knopf BfYR
Hardcover, 410 pages
Buy: The Book Depository

Wow. When I started Madapple yesterday, I had no idea what I was signing up for. Had I known what was ahead of me, I don’t think I would have picked it up. You see, I expected it to be paranormal (although I’m not sure why), and it wasn’t. I never expected it to be about child abuse, kidnapping, drugs and incest, but it was. I certainly never thought it would delve so deep into the connections between paganism and Christianity. Finally, I expected it to be forgettable, but I doubt I’ll forget this for the rest of my life. The last book that upset me this much, that caused me many sleepless nights, was Disgrace by J.M. Coetzee. The difference between Disgrace and Madapple, however, is that in the end, I felt like a better person for having read Disgrace, while Madapple left me feeling…contaminated. I have the craziest urge to wash my brain with soap.

Aslaug was raised in complete isolation by her Danish mother. She was homeschooled, she never saw a doctor in her life nor did she ever have contact with other people her age. She never even had a father or a proper last name. Her mother taught her ancient and obscure languages, but prevented her from finding out most things about modern society. Their house in Maine didn’t have electricity or running water. So when Aslaug woke up one morning to find her mother dead, she did the only thing she could think of: she washed her, painted the Solomon’s seal on her chest to ward off evil spirits and started digging a grave in her back yard. A nosy neighbor saw what Aslaug was doing and called the police and they quickly came to arrest her for murder.

Having been proven innocent of her mother’s death, Aslaug manages to find an aunt and her two children and moves in with them. You’d think an aunt who is also a preacher and who runs her own church would be more stable than an abusive mother, but you’d be horribly wrong. Soon questions are raised that nobody wants to answer: who is Aslaug’s father? Does she even have one? Can she be a product of immaculate conception or is the truth much more disturbing? At the same time, faced with the first teenage boy she’s seen in her life, Aslaug starts having inappropriate feelings for her cousin, and what’s worse, those feelings are mutual.

Aslaug’s story, however disgusting, is masterfully told and there is no denying Christina Meldrum’s skill. It is divided into two alternating parts: Aslaug’s murky and confusing first person POV, and court transcripts from her trial, occurring four years later. The reader gets to hear about the events from various witnesses in 2007 and then goes back to 2003 to see them through Aslaug’s eyes. But Aslaug is far from a reliable narrator and as the story progressed, I became more and more convinced that she’s lost touch with reality, as I’m sure the author intended.

I can’t bring myself to recommend a book that made me sick to my stomach. The ending especially made me want to cry, or throw up, or both. I’m not exaggerating: I hated myself for reading certain parts of this. But if you ever feel the need to push your boundaries, Madapple is the book to do it with. Just please spare me the details. I think I’ve had all I can handle.

Also, please take my rating with a grain of salt. I still have no idea how to rate this book.