Tag: Juvenile Fic

Illustrations by Mark Burgess. With the approval and support of the Trustees of the Pooh Properties Trust and in which Winne-the-Pooh enjoys further adventures with Christopher Robin and his friends. I opened this one with some trepidation. It’s very hard to read a book which attempts to pick up and carry on another’s legacy, especially one so beloved by so many readers since their childhood- like mine. I was pleasantly surprised. The writing style and character of the stories felt very close to the original, same with the illustrations. Christopher Robin did look a bit different- but then he’s supposed to be older now- and I often felt that Pooh’s legs were a bit too scrawny, and that Roo looked rather like a stretched-out flying squirrel, but other than that it all charmed me. I just enjoyed it and forgot to be too critical. I didn’t even mind that it introduced a new character (a female otter named Lottie, just as full of herself as Owl and Rabbit, but in a different way). It’s been many years since I’ve read the originals, or I’d probably hold this to a stricter standard. (Having read some other reader’s reviews since I wrote this, I cringe a bit now. Lots of people pointed out many nuances that weren’t at all like the original characters, and I can’t believe I didn’t notice those flaws. Yikes. Now I wonder if I’ll enjoy this if I do read it a second time round, having had those things brought to my attention).

The stories are thus- a rumor goes about that Christopher Robin is back (visiting, home from boarding school) and they all throw him a welcome party. Owl struggles over a crossword puzzle but is too proud to ask for help. Robin suggests they hold a spelling bee and Owl is the quizmaster- they start off with quite difficult words, start to get muddled, and then stop because it rains. Rabbit decides to organize a census but almost nobody cooperates because they haven’t any idea what he’s doing or why. He wants to count all his relatives so invites them with offerings of refreshments, but there’s too many rabbits, nobody wants the carrots (they all prefer shortbread) and they cause havoc in his house. There is a drought. The otter appears and is anxious to help them find water- a well is located and when the bucket doesn’t function properly, little Piglet is the brave one sent down to investigate. Afterwards he’s disappointed not to be more prominently featured in Pooh’s rhyme about the whole affair. Then the bee tree is found to be empty- which Pooh discovers when he nearly runs out of honey. Alarmed, they go looking for the bees- Eeyore suggests they may have swarmed, Lottie recommends they coax the bees back with flowers, but it’s Pooh who finally succeeds in leading the bees back home. Owl decides to write a book about his uncle, and doesn’t come out of his house for days. Friends knocking at the doors and windows are rebuffed and ignored. So the animals get up to some strange shenanigans to make owl give up writing (my least favorite of the stories). Lottie declares that many of the forest animals are “uncouth” and need educating. They set up a school with herself, Owl, Rabbit and Kanga teaching the others. It was a nice effort, but . . . fell flat. Same with the next chapter, all about a game of cricket (I don’t know the sport but it seems similar to baseball – a precursor?) Tigger eats too many blackberries, gets slightly ill and imagines that he misses his homeland of Africa. His friends try to recreate what they think an African jungle looks like for him, only to realize later that tigers aren’t from that part of the world at all. The animals have a harvest festival, and they sadly learn that Christopher Robin is leaving again- but he will always be their friend.

Oh how I liked this book! I thought from the flyleaf description and a few other reviews that led me to this, that it would be rather silly. Not at all. It has some very dark themes and unsettling depictions of the real kinds of horror animals face in the wild, or anyone in a family that isn’t nurturing, no matter what species. While presented as juvenile fiction, it was very engaging for me as an adult reader, and I’d caution to read this to younger kids or those who are sensitive. SPOILER ALERT: some foxes die. Some are abandoned. Some are hurt by their own families. But there is courage and friendship and hope in the end.

The premise is that seven little foxes are out after dark listening to a storyteller. The stories frighten the fox kits, so that one by one they flee for home- will any last to hear all the tales? Because if they can brave the telling, each one teaches them something crucial- even if you have to read a bit between the lines for it. The horror of rabies. Of older male foxes that kill young rivals. Of young ones with weakness or disabilities being left to starve. Of facing snakes and brutal natural elements and unseen predators. Of the misery and cruelty that humans can inflict. I have to say, I was a bit put off that a beloved children’s book author was portrayed as evil in this story- from the foxes’ viewpoint- though I wouldn’t be surprised if she had stuffed her own specimens exactly as is described. It was also weird that a sudden magic element was introduced that made the foxes able to understand human speech- before that point in the story, I was rather enjoying the challenge of trying to puzzle out the garbled depiction of how the foxes heard English. And as up until now the story seemed completely realistic (other than the foxes talking to each other) it also felt a bit jarring. There was another detail that kind of threw me out of the story: a king snake threatening the young foxes with venemous bite. Um, king snakes aren’t poisonous. Other parts of the story mixed fauna that made you confused where exactly these foxes were growing up. It didn’t bother me too much, but some other readers mention that.

I really liked how the stories told to the kits eventually wove together, and connected the listeners to the storyteller in the end. The struggles of young foxes to prevail over all the risks and challenges of growing up felt so very real, and their vulpine characterization was delightful (even the nasty ones). I can well see how some compared this to Watership Down, even though it’s far shorter in length. I would have gladly read a few hundred more pages of this, and am happy to learn there’s a sequel- but it was just published last year so my library doesn’t have a copy yet.

Borrowed from the public library.