Customer Reviews

Madapple

5 star:		(37)
4 star:		(10)
3 star:		(2)
2 star:		(3)
1 star:		(2)

 

 

I finished reading MADAPPLE last night and, for the first time ever, I sat staring at the book in shock. For fifteen minutes. I was ready to laugh, to cry, and to scream in frustration. Never before have I read a book that left me feeling that way after finishing it. Sure, there have been books where I've laughed, cried, and been frustrated at different points as I read it (HARRY POTTER AND THE DEATHLY HALLOWS comes to mind) -- but to experience them all at once at the end of a book? Never.

Once the shock wore off, I began wondering how I was ever going to write a review of this book. Because a book that can cause emotions like that definitely can NOT be summed up in one paragraph, no matter how long. I could say that MADAPPLE was about flowers and plants. I could also say that it's about a girl who's a prisoner in her own life. I could also say that it challenges the religion of Christianity. I could say all of those things and so many more, but none of them would be correct. Yes, MADAPPLE is about flowers and plants. It's also about being a prisoner in your own life and it's even about Christianity. But it's also about so much more than that. More than even my mind can comprehend.

But I must warn you - MADAPPLE is NOT for everyone

Told in alternating chapters of the present and of testimonies being held at Aslaug's trial, MADAPPLE challenges the reader. It informs the reader. I, myself, though not a strong Christian, know by now that most Christians are offended when their religion is challenged. MADAPPLE does that. But I don't necessarily think it's a bad thing, for it never states that Christianity is wrong, and every single character has their own opinion on it. Heck, one of them even runs a church. But what it does do is explain how the birth and story of Jesus that the Christians follow is not the first in history. I'm not going to say more on that subject in fear of giving too much away, but I'll say this - if you're a Christian who is easily offended, I wouldn't read this. If you're a Christian who can handle a reasonable amount of things, pick up the book.

My feelings about MADAPPLE changed throughout the entire book. At first, I was intrigued, then confused, and then bored. Actually, I think I was confused up until the last page and then some. Even at this moment, I can't say whether I love or hate MADAPPLE. But I'm going to say that I love it because it's left me speechless, and the only other books to have done that are my favorites. The one thing, however, this book didn't do was make my stomach hurt. The character emotions just weren't there to make my heart break. All other aspects, besides that, which I love in books were there.

So do I recommend MADAPPLE? Definitely yes! But only if you're up for a challenging read. Only if you're mature enough to handle speculations about virgin and premarital birth. Only if you're ready to be blown away, because you will be, whether it's in a good or bad way. Only you can make that decision.

Reviewed by: Harmony

It's hard to know where to start in the praise for this amazing story of Aslaug, a teenaged girl who, having been raised by a reclusive mother, finds herself--after her mother's death--in the unfamiliar world of her minister-aunt's church. Meldrum cuts back and forth between rapid-fire courtroom testimony of Aslaug's trail and beautifully lyrical sections detailing the events of Aslaug's life that land her in court. Each of the more lyrical chapters is titled with the name of a plant, and Meldrum's weaving of a rich wealth of information about each plant's medicinal qualities with a deep knowledge of religions of all sorts adds more to this book than I ever could have imagined--without ever slowing the pace of the story. I'm only left wishing there were a second of this author's books to pull off the shelf, and hoping there will be soon!

I would give this novel five stars for the sheer audacity the author has invested in what is clearly a huge amount of research, of life experience, and of honing a complicated writing style. I would also give the novel one star because I believe it fails across the board at everything it wants to be: YA, romance, historical fiction, mystery, you name it. But I'm not giving it a 3-star middle ground. I think the work fails more often than it succeeds.

Other reviewers have commented on the originality of this story. Sadly, I don't find it so; I see a huge number of parallels to 'White Oleander,' by Janet Fitch, right down to the Scandinavian protagonists. With every page I waited for the book to break free of everything that was dragging it down: the too-true-to-life courtroom scenes (which are probably interesting to an attorney, such as the author, but i can't imagine a teen wants to slog through what are basically court transcripts), the uneven character development (Aslaug is basically a wild child, but her language, actions and even thoughts are not consistent with such a character) and the laborious botany and religion lessons. I am a huge fan of many works with an academic slant, but even I found myself skimming because I didn't see the relevance in having to swallow a huge dose of medieval philosophy along with my teen novel. And, fundamentally, I felt the author had a tough time keeping her book reined in. The plot veers in too many directions and has trouble with even simple elements, such as making sure characters are introduced clearly.

As with other books, I was suckered in by the excellent art direction and by the CV of the author. My expectations were fairly high, since I think teen readers need to expand their oeuvre beyond 'Gossip Girl.' But I don't think I'd recommend this work to any. Whatever the author's original clarity of vision was with this story, it became too muddled in the telling.

The theory that there are no original ideas, that everything has been done before, has been bandied around a lot in relation to mediocre pop music and, more relevant here perhaps, in terms of newly published books. Although I can point out my fair share of movie remakes and rip-off book plots, I generally hold with those who disagree and think that there is still a bit of originality out there. After finishing "Madapple" by Christina Meldrum (due out in May 2008 from Knopf) I think that's even more true.

While reading this novel, I tried to place it in relation to other stories I had read. It reminded me of "How I Live Now" (especially because of Daisy's relationship with Edmond in that novel). It also had a hint of the fantasy genre's penchant for stressing the power of naming and the tone of authors like Margaret Mahy. Most striking was the way that Meldrum controlled readers' perception of the narrative. The only other novel I have seen that exercises such restraint to such good effect is "Never Let Me Go" by Kazuo Ishiguro. And yet, at the end of the day, "Madapple" wasn't like anything else I had read and these comparisons reveal very little about the actual story.

"Madapple" is Meldrum's first novel, written while she worked as a litigator. The story starts, as many do, at the beginning. Specifically, it opens twenty years before the core events of the story with a young woman named Maren--away from her Danish relatives, living alone in Maine, and pregnant. Without, Maren tells her older sister, ever having had a lover.

Such are the origins of Aslaug, Maren's daughter and the heroine of this novel. Immediately after this revelation from her mother, the narrative shifts from 1987 to 2007 in a courtroom where reader's quickly learn that Aslaug is on trial for murder and tells the court that she has no biological father.

These two segments largely set the tone for the rest of the novel that follows, a tone that I would call both eerie and confusing. The rest of the narrative alternates between chapters set in the courtroom in 2007 (always titled "Solomon's Seal" for a plant thought to cast away demons) and chapters beginning in 2003 and working toward the trial in 2007 (these chapters are titled for other plants that Aslaug encounters, usually with some relevance to the events of the chapter).

Having set up the body of the story, Meldrum nows moves to what I'd call the beginning of the plot in 2003. It is here that readers begin to learn about Aslaug's life instead of just her circumstances. Home-schooled and raised by her mother in an isolated house outside of town, Aslaug has little in common with the modern world. While other fifteen-year-olds are experimenting with makeup and going to movies, Aslaug is being taught ancient languages and learning about the various properties and lore of plants found in the woods near her home.

Completely isolated and alone except for her mother's erratic, sometimes hurtful, companionship, Aslaug is desperate for a chance to escape from her life. That opportunity comes sooner than she had expected, the result of unforeseen events which thrust Aslaug into the world she previously watched from a distance. Along the way, Aslaug finds family she never knew she had and more questions about her own life than answers.

There is more to the plot, but to get into further specifics here is impossible without ruining the quality of surprise and shock that Meldrum incorporates into so much of this narrative. Suffice it to say, nothing in this story is as it seems.

At first, the narrative here seemed choppy--incorporating three different time periods in as many chapters as well as many unexpected Danish words. The more I read, the more the story started to make sense. As the narrative moved forward, to the point where past and future events converge, everything began to mesh together making the writing more seamless. For that reason, I found that "Madapple" was easier to handle when I read more of it at once. The text here is dense, with a lot of references to religious texts as well as plant mechanics, which do require a bit of time to absorb.

Aside from Meldrum's masterful prose, her characterizations were interesting. Several of the "important" characters are unlikable but still remain valuable to both readers and Aslaug. At the same time, Meldrum spends a lot of time discussing religion in the text (as can be expected from a novel about a supposed virgin birth I suppose) but it doesn't get tiresome or overly dogmatic.

By the end of the novel, everything Aslaug had thought she knew is turned upside down. And then it's turned on its head again. Although "Madapple" is thin on actual action, it's still a page turner that left me anxious to see how it would all turn out.

Aslaug has been brought up in near isolation by her mother, taught a wealth of knowledge including the lore and uses of local plants. Orphaned by her mother's sudden death, Aslaug sets out to find the family that she never knew she had, leading her into a dense mystery of botany, religion, genealogy--and tragedy. This is a startling and unique book: its intriguing premise, ongoing mystery, and unusual protagonist keep the reader hooked, and the numerous subjects provide ample food for thought. Unfortunately, the pacing becomes increasingly hurried as the book goes on, shortchanging the conclusion and the myriad themes. Nonetheless I recommend Madapple--while not perfect, it is a captivating novel rich with unusual subjects, complex characters, and careful thought.

Regional herbalism and botanical mythology; Pentecostal Christianity, paganism, and virgin births; mysterious genealogies, familial relationships, and potential incest; murder investigations, adolescence, appearance and reality, events and motivations--Madapple is a rich combination of a plethora of subjects and themes. The variety may seem random and illogical, but Meldrum weaves these many aspects into one whole--a whole which is all the more meaningful and unique for its complexity. Balancing characters against subjects and plot against surprisingly natural exposition, combining herbalism and religion so smoothly that they appear intrinsically connected, Meldrum creates an intriguing, convincing, unique novel. Aslaug explores an unusual world from an even more unusual viewpoint, and her journey is captures the reader and provides plenty of of food for thought.

Meldrum's subjects are bold and, on the whole, brilliantly realized--but the latter half of the book moves at an increasingly fast pace, and there simply isn't enough time to explore later subjects to the depths they deserve. The increasing pace, skipping weeks and then months and then years, allows the book to cover more plot but mostly serves to make the reader wonder why Meldrum didn't simply condense the plotline. The conclusion itself is too brief and seems artificially complete, even more so because of the complexity of the story that proceeds it, and the last exploration of the book's themes ring true but also a bit trite.

This isn't to say that the end of book is a disappointment: the plot has a satisfying climax and many of the subjects and themes continue to the end. Nonetheless, the conclusion is not as good as it could be or as the rest of the book is. If it were better, this would be a spectacular novel. As it is, Madapple is intriguing, promising, and brave, strongly written with a mystical voice and a convincing protagonist, containing more complexity in its premise alone than many novels contain in their entire length--but it is not all that it could be. I enjoyed it and I highly recommend it to all readers, youth or adult (for its complexity and some of the subject matter, I'm not convinced it belongs in the YA category; I think it is best for older teens and adults), who find the concept intriguing. It is a rare gift to find a book that stretches so far and aims so high as this does. But I also look forward to more from Meldrum, to see what she can achieve now that she has the experience of one published novel.

MADAPPLE centers on the story of Aslaug, a 16-year-old girl raised in isolation by her Danish mother who homeschools her in the ways of the natural world. While her understanding of herbs, languages and religion is rich (if highly subjective), her ability to interact with others is stunted. Aslaug's limited world explodes when her mother, Maren, dies suddenly and she finds herself living with estranged relatives in a nearby town.

Thrust into a new family, Aslaug finds the values and beliefs bestowed by her mother constantly challenged: her manipulative cousin, Sanne, asserts that Aslaug was a virgin birth and destined for greatness; her other cousin, Rune, offers her kindness mixed with temptation; and her Aunt Sara, Maren's sister and preacher of a local church, struggles with a dark secret that may hold the key to Aslaug's true identity. Matters only get more complicated when Aslaug becomes pregnant and insists she has never had sex. Then, when the bodies of Sanne and Sara are pulled from a fire at the church, clues point to Aslaug and she is placed on trial for murder.

The star of MADAPPLE is Meldrum's exquisite writing, at turns lush and imaginative but also spare and direct. The names of plants serve as chapter titles, employing herb lore as a vocabulary that fleshes out Aslaug's worldview. Meldrum masterfully occupies Aslaug's mind, outlining her protagonist's circumscribed upbringing and revealing a mind hungry to explore but reluctant to venture into a world for which she was never prepared. The narrative shifts between the past, when Aslaug struggles to deal with both her mother's death and the ways of her new family, and the present, when an older Aslaug is on trial for murder. Both stories drive forward with measured tension, forcing the reader to question where the truth lies, until they converge in a mesmerizing climax.

Meldrum draws from her background in religious studies and law to pose potent questions concerning the nature of faith and the sometimes blurred line between myth and reality. Readers will find themselves as challenged by the novel's varied viewpoints as Aslaug is in her own reluctant quest for meaning. If you're looking for something that will generate a spirited discussion at your next book group meeting, this is the book for you.

One of the best books I've read in 2008, MADAPPLE stands out as brilliantly crafted and beautifully written. Christina Meldrum is a powerful new voice, and I'm anxiously awaiting her next novel. A must for everyone's summer reading list.

--- Reviewed by Brian Farrey

This debut novel has a texture and voice all its own. The heroine is a young woman who has grown up isolated with her mother in rural Maine. For mysterious reasons, she has been versed in world religion and botany but lacks practical experience among society. So, when she is suddenly cast out on her own, she approaches society with wide-eyed innocence that provides a great first-voice for half of the chapters. The other half are narratored by the more cynical characters of our normal world, in the context of a jury trial describing the same events. The juxtaposition works wonderfully. Meanwhile, we are drawn farther into the heroine's mystical world, which seems to make more sense than the "normal" world. This book is difficult to put down as the reader unfolds the mysteries of this story along with larger mysteries of life. A great read.

I was asked to read this novel and annotate its contents for potential use as a YA Literature Circle book in the classroom. As a younger teacher, I like to get my hands on many different forms of literature and look for themes and new ideas to stimulate the minds and engage the curiosity of my students.

The novel began well, and caught my interest with it's strange, mysterious plot and unique characters. I was intrigued through the first half of the novel, in which the main character explores her identity despite being squashed by her deranged mother. The second half of the novel left me questioning what happened. It seemed that Meldrum decided to attack organized religion instead of taking a promising character and leading her toward an enlightening realization of herself.

I would NEVER recommend this novel to any of my high school students for the following reasons:
* They will find the in-depth descriptions of plants extremely laborious, and give up reading.
* The glorification of drug use (from "natural plants") and alcoholism is not something I like to hand out. They see it enough in media.
* Incest, mental, and physical abuse is a disturbing topic that should be approached seriously, and this book seems to treat it as a light "side-thought" on Auslaug's way to growing up
* The blatant agenda of the author is shown in her attack on organized religion of any kind. Two characters go absolutely insane being convinced that their pagan/christian/scandinavian hybrid of a religion is correct.

I dislike novels that transparently push the views of the author...developing the characters more could have helped, but many ideas were just completely inorganic to the story. Good researcher-- Meldrum knows her facts, but not a YA author by any means.

Madapple isn't for everyone. Beyond the gripping mystery setup, there's also a lot of references to religious texts, botany, languages, and mythology, and unless the reader is interested in those topics, the whole book may go right over their heads. Moreover, there are certain themes herein some consider wrong, amoral, sinful. It's not a light read, nor should it be treated as such.

Personally, everything in the above paragraph makes the book even more appealing to me.

The book begins with a prologue of sorts set in 1987 where it's determined a woman, Maren Hellig, is pregnant, though she has no recollection of ever being with a man. Next is a courtroom scene set in 2007, in which the defendant, Aslaug Datter (daughter in Danish), is being tried for the deaths of her mother, aunt and cousin. Next we go back to 2003, to Aslaug and Maren picking some plants (jimsonweed, among others, which is also known as madapple) from the woods near their isolated home. The book is told in alternating chapters, between the past and perceived present, and it's not until the very last page is flipped the reader can conclude the magnitude of this unnerving tale.

Pushing the insanely genius plot aside, the next thing that struck me speechless about this novel is Meldrum's prose. She keeps the reader on the edge, and yet she controls your entire spectrum of emotions as you read, and also of how much you perceived with each scene. The book is gripping not because of the plot, but because the reader has to read all the way through to figure said plot out. The characters, while for the most part unlikable, are magnetic, attracting your interest whether you want to read about them or not. Their development is unusual, yet effective. It is truly, immensely hard to believe this is Christina Meldrum's first novel, judging by the masterful way in which she handles this novel's writing, pace, plot, characters, voice--in short, this novel's being.

Madapple is by far one of the most unorthodox YA books I've read to date. It forces all I've read out of the water. It's original. It takes a whole different approach to young adult fiction. It's thought-provoking. It may disgust some people. It may appal others. Hell, it may even bore some. But to tell you the truth, very rarely has a book struck me the way this one did.

Where the young adult genre has dimmed in content over the recent years, Madapple sparkles brilliantly for readers looking to be challenged. Similar to the hunger with which the reader moves through Madapple, is the anticipation they will feel for Christina Meldrum's next offering.

I could not recommend this book more.

Madapple
Wow. Just... Wow. This novel caught me off guard. I didn't expect to like it or get pulled into it. Once I started reading though, it was fantastic. Absolutely spectacular writing and I just couldn't put it down. It was fascinating and horrifying at the same time but in its core I think what got to me the most if just how human it is. the characters are so real you can feel their hearts beating. You want to cry with them and above all even though they are going through something that maybe most people shouldn't be able to understand, you could. It was a novel that showed a side of a situation that gave you a completely new level of understanding of the story. I also think that using the trial was brilliant. It made the opening for a deeper level of depth to the situation. You question who was right and who was wrong but the most beautiful part of the story is just that. You understand the characters enough to see the gray lines in between the white and black print. That in all reality we are all human and sometimes mistakes just stack up to make unforgettable situations but that those situations, while they may tear you apart, if you can put yourself back together again, have the potential to make you so much stronger. Beautiful enough to get a 6 star if it were possible and that is something I have never felt before. This book goes above and beyond beautiful. It is truly a work of art.

Sincerely,
Emma Michaels
[...].

P.S.- For mothers I would suggest you consider this novel only for 15 or 16 and older. It does have mature content that many of the younger audiences would not be able to properly understand or might not be taken well. You may want to read the novel on your own before giving it to a teenager.