Madapple by Christina Meldrum

               Aslaug Hellig is a mystery. Is she the Messiah- the Chosen Child, Daughter of God? Is she a witch? A product of incest? A murderer? A bad seed- a seed from which only mad things grow?
               Or is she simply a girl faced with a unique situation?
               Reading Madapple tore me up. Sometimes a good book has to do that- some have to make you fall in love, some scare you within an inch of your life- and some portray such an overwhelming story in such a way that it is at once unbelievably horrifying and remarkably beautiful. While introducing so many theories as to Aslaug's origin, covering the scientific, the religious, the supernatural, and the modern law's perspective- the author manages to leave questions unanswered in just the right way. This book keeps you guessing even after it's ended, even after the truth is revealed.
               Bad things seem to follow Aslaug wherever she goes. Raised in virtual isolation by her mother, a Danish immigrant women, who some have called brilliant, and some have called insane, Aslaug holds an unusual grasp on reality and an insight into the world. She possesses her mother's love for science, nature, and myth, and can boast to a great deal of intelligence, but her social skills are limited to what her mother has taught her. After her mother's death early on in the book, Aslaug seeks out the family she has never known, secrets her mother kept hidden from her, and finds instead more questions and family scandal where she looks. Every other chapter is a piece of the transcript from Aslaug's trial- taking place four years from the time we meet her in the beginning. We learn that in four years, Aslaug's situation will change so drastically that she is being accused of murdering characters that we are simultaneously meeting for the first time. Sprinkled throughout this book are lessons in botany, paganism, English literature- and anything else that our odd heroine seems to think about- dispersed in a way that reminded me of Scott Westerfield's Peeps, with its long anecdotes on intriguing viruses and plagues and animals.
               Every time you think she has found peace, the carefully built up world of Madapple begins to chip away- revealing a harsh and frightening ugliness underneath. The transcripts prove most of what Aslaug's first-person account to be wrong so thoroughly that you begin to question her self-assured innocence. There is both a mingling sense of sweetness and leftover horror even now, as I sit here, having finished this book. Madapple is an exceptionally well-written novel, and though I while reading in public I was constantly having to explain why the girl on the cover was about to eat a butterfly, I think this will be one that I treasure.