February 2025 Stars & Big Picture
Starred titles are books of special distinction. See the archives for selections from previous months.
Bonnin, Elisa A. Lovely Dark and Deep. Feiwel, 2025 [400p]
Trade ed. ISBN 9781250888570 $20.99
E-book ed. ISBN 9781250888556 $11.99
Reviewed from digital galleys R* Gr. 9-12
Hall, Kirsten A Forest Song; illus. by Evan Turk. Random House, 2025 [40p]
Trade ed. ISBN 9780593480366 $18.99
E-book ed. ISBN 9780593480380 $8.99
Reviewed from digital galleys R* 4-8 yrs
Hartman, Aubrey The Undead Fox of Deadwood Forest; illus. by Marcin
Minor. Little, 2025 [320p]
Trade ed. ISBN 9780316575720 $17.99
E-book ed. ISBN 9780316575744 $9.99
Reviewed from digital galleys R* Gr. 3-6
See this month’s Big Picture, below, for review.
Stuart, Dean Cassi and the House of Memories; written and illus. by Dean Stuart. Viking, 2025 [272p]
Trade ed. ISBN 9780593351123 $24.99
Paper ed. ISBN 9780593351130 $14.99
E-book ed. ISBN 9780593351178 $8.99
Reviewed from digital galleys R* Gr. 4-6
Tolin, Lisa Can You Imagine?: The Art and Life of Yoko Ono; illus. by Yas Imamura. Atheneum/Simon, 2025 [48p]
Trade ed. ISBN 9781534487789 $19.99
E-book ed. ISBN 9781534487796 $10.99
Reviewed from digital galleys R* Gr. 1-5
The Undead Fox of Deadwood Forest
By Aubrey Hartman
Frog and Toad. Elephant and Piggie. Narwhal and Jelly. Odd couples abound at all levels of children’s literature, and the perennial grumpy/sunshine dynamic works especially well, balancing touches of comedic silliness with aspirational models of relationships and useful reminders to respect each other’s differences. The odd couple at the center of this month’s Big Picture, though, is especially odd: a prickly undead fox and a cheery ghostly badger aren’t the usual subjects one would conjure up for a warm tale about a blossoming friendship. And to be fair, Clare and Gingersnipes’ story, aimed at the elementary crowd, is not your average buddy comedy (though the two do make quite the entertaining pair). Instead, author Hartman brings in folkloric elements, quirky humor, and even a bit of the macabre to create a moving story of two friends learning not just to accept each other but to accept themselves, with all their flaws and messiness, as well as their lives—er, undeaths—with all the accompanying joys and sorrows.
The book opens with a wink and a nod from our unseen narrator, who warns readers that the following pages are only for the bold and curious, and that the squeamish may want to stick to simpler tales—it’s a warning that is, of course, designed to draw its audience in, and it’s especially effective here, with an amusingly gruesome detailing of Clare’s death. As an undead fox with a missing eye and patchy fur, Clare is all too aware of his monstrous appearance, but he also knows that he now plays an essential role as the Usher of the Deadwood Forest, guiding the lost spirits of dead animals to the Afterlife. Clare enjoys the solitude his position affords him (and the endless amount of time to tend to his mushroom garden) until the ghost of a badger refuses to enter the Afterlife. Well, actually, the Afterlife refuses to let Gingersnipes in, and now Clare is in an unprecedented situation that’s complicated by the fact that he seems to be losing his Ushering powers. The two set off to find a prophesizing old bird who, Clare hopes, might have an idea of what’s going on. It’s here where the story turns from steadily folkloric to adventurous, as Clare and Gingersnipes encounter creature after creature—a seething pond of cottonmouth snakes, a trash-talking trash rat, an all-knowing tortoise who can’t be bothered, an arrogant badger (this one’s alive), and eventually, a gaggle of the most horrifying creatures of all, human children.
As to be expected in the familiar odd couple trajectory, fox and badger begrudgingly grow on each other through their journey, but more importantly, and certainly more poignantly, they each begin to value and heal themselves. Their witty banter is subtly laced with a melancholy sense of self-doubt, and Hartman manages to give equal weight to humor and pathos, creating two wonderfully engaging and achingly vulnerable leads. Clare has spent his undeath convinced he was so unlovable that he was abandoned and left for dead, and so he has shaped his existence around avoiding further pain by shunning any friends or comradery. It takes Gingersnipes’ gentle but persistent badgering (pun intended) to make him finally realize he could see both himself and the world in a different, more forgiving light, one that would free him from the pain that he insisted for so long he deserved. Meanwhile, for all her cheeriness, Gingersnipes believes herself to be entirely useless due to the harsh criticism of her belligerent father, but Clare helps her realize that it is not her utility that matters, but her kindness, empathy, and optimism.
In the end, their bourgeoning friendship ultimately brings them to a simple but profound truth: “Anyone can take love. . . But only the good souls can give it.” To tuck such a deeply felt tale of self-discovery and love in such a delightfully raucous adventure is quite the feat, and Hartman’s sophomore outing is surely a classic in the making. Readers will not soon forget Clare and Gingersnipes—and they’ll be thrilled by the revelation of the unknown narrator and an ending that potentially promises more adventures. Black-and-white art not seen.
—Kate Quealy-Gainer, Editor
Cover illustration from The Undead Fox of Deadwood Forest. Text copyright © 2025 by Aubrey Hartman. Jacket art copyright © 2025 by Marcin Minor. Reproduced by permission of the publisher, Little, Brown and Company.