I generally don't reread books, but I've returned to this book many times to dip back in and savor individual pages that read, and look, like prose poems. This is one book I haven't put on the shelf after reading, but kept on my night stand since 2004. I have yet to articulate, let alone pinpoint the fascination, but there is something about Bynum's language that speaks to me like oracle, something akin to an ancient augury, birds taking flight to the east (or perhaps it's just the ative prose and the vivid characters: an obese woman who sprouts wings and floats above Madeleine's village, or Madeleine herself, dreaming wonder into being). A highly imaginative and original debut novel.