Jonathan Carroll has a fascination with death, or so it seems to me in all of his books that I have read. But not death in the way that I (or, I imagine most people) think about it.
In White Apples, the main character, Vincent Ettrich, is dead and doesn\'t even know it yet. He has no memory of dying and being brought back, and is just going on with his normal day-to-day routines until he sees something that changes everything. He finds that he is in purgatory, and although he has no heartbeat, he indeed has love. She is Isabelle, the woman for whom he left his wife and children, and who is now carrying his unborn son.
Ettrich finds himself searching for answers to the many questions that seem unfathomable. He must try to remember his death, and through his remembering, pass on the knowledge to his son so that the future will unfold according to some as-yet-undisclosed plan. With the help of Isabelle and, strangely, his yet-to-be-born son, he slowly begins to unravel the mystery.
White Apples is not a book for everyone. It looks at death in a way that would be uncomfortable if you are a very religious person. It certainly doesn\'t fit into the normal Heaven or Hell pigeonholes of any church with which I\'ve had experience. Yet, one wonders: Is it magic? Or is it religion in its own way, with its own symbols and revelations? And although it falls short of giving all the answers about what happens after we die, it gives us a different way to think about it. And I guess for the most part, like Carroll, we\'re all fascinated with the subject of death, even if we don\'t like to admit it.