What is the main theme of 'Monster' by Walter Dean Myers?

The impact of the criminal justice system on youth

What event triggers the main conflict in 'Monster'?

A robbery that leads to a murder

What is the significance of the term 'monster' in the novel?

It reflects society's perception of people who commit crimes

It refers to a specific villain

Monster by Walter Dean Myers

Monster by Walter Dean Myers July 6th Questions

Pages 1-90 Monster by walter dean myers

Planning a Gothic description inspired by 'A monster within'

Bonk, the Healthy Monster A candy store has just opened. Bonk has been waiting. He runs inside with money from his piggy bank. "Wow!" he says. "There's cotton candy!" Bonk says. He sees chocolate eggs and rainbow taffy, too. Bonk buys and eats the candy. The next day, Bonk goes to the candy store. "There's root beer!" Bonk says. He sees bubble gum and jelly beans, too. Bonk drinks the soda and blows big bubbles. Day after day, Bonk eats junk food. His piggy bank gets lighter and lighter. But Bonk does not. The candy store owner gives Bonk a balloon. "You are my number one customer," says the owner. Later, Bonk visits the dentist. The dentist looks at Bonk's teeth. "Candy and soda are not healthy for you or your teeth," he says. The weeks pass by with more trips to the candy store. Soon, Bonk can't ride his bike as fast as he did before. Jumping rope is hard work, too. Sometimes, Bonk's tummy hurts. "What should I do?" Bonk asks Lurk and Uzzle. "I know," says Lurk. "Me, too," says Uzzle. Lurk, Uzzle, and Bonk go for a long walk. "You need exercise to be healthy,' says Lurk. They have a picnic of apples, cheese, and fresh brown bread. "You need good food to be healthy, too," says Uzzle. "But what about rainbow taffy and cotton candy?" Bonk asks. "You can have a piece or two," says Uzzle. "I can't have the whole bag?" asks Bonk. "No, never have the whole bag," says Lurk. Bonk's tummy begins to feel better. Soon, he can race his bike and jump rope again. Now, Bonk is not the number one customer at the candy store. But, Bonk is number one at being healthy!

Bonk's New Bike Bonk has dreams about the bike he wants. It is red with cool handlebars and spokes. Bonk sees the bike on TV. He sees it in the newspaper, too. He opens his monster bank. He has only five pennies. "I have to earn enough money for my new bike," says Bonk. "I will start a dog walking business," he says. He goes door to door asking people if he can walk their dogs. "Can we help walk dogs, too?" asks Jupe. "I'll do it by myself," Bonk says. "I'm saving my money for a new bike." Soon, Bonk's phone begins to ring. People knock on his door. They all want Bonk to walk their dogs! "This will be a fun and easy way to earn money," Bonk says. On Saturday, Bonk picks up each dog. There are big dogs, little dogs. fancy dogs, and plain dogs. The dogs are barking, jumping, and running around. Bonk gets all their leashes together and begins to walk. One dog tangles up his leash. Another dog rolls in the mud. Another dog chases a cat! "This is not fun!" Bonk says. "It is not easy either!" Lurk, Uzzle, and Jupe ride their scooters past Bonk. "Do you want some help now. Bonk?" Jupe asks. Bonk gives each of the monsters a dog to walk. When they are finished walking. the dog owners pay the monsters. "I'm sorry I said you couldn't help with the dog walking," says Bonk. "I couldn't have done it without you." Jupe, Lurk, and Uzzle talk. They give their money to Bonk. "This is for your new bike," says Jupe. "But you earned this money, too," says Bonk. "We want something other than money," says Lurk. "Anything you want," Bonk says. "When you get your new bike, we want to take turns riding it!" says Jupe. "It's a deal!" says Bonk.

Create multiple choice questions using the following information: In November, Mrs. Baker has Holling read The Tempest. Despite his preconceptions, Holling is captivated by all the "good stuff" in the play, especially the cussing, which he decides to learn by heart. He figures that Mrs. Baker could not have read the play herself; if she had, she certainly would not have let him have it. Holling is amazed when he discovers that his teacher not only has read the play, but she knows the bad parts as well. Mrs. Baker gives Holling a one-hundred-and-fifty question test on The Tempest, and assigns him to read the play again, telling him "there is a lot more to (it) than a list of colorful curses." The deadline set by Holling's classmates for him to bring them cream puffs arrives, but although Holling's father's company has won the Baker's Sporting Emporium contract, he refuses to extend an advance on his son's allowance. Desperate, Holling goes to Goldman's Best Bakery, offering to work for the money he lacks to buy the cream puffs. Coincidentally, Mr. Goldman, who is active in Long Island's Shakespeare Company, needs a boy to perform in their upcoming Extravaganza, and because of his work with Mrs. Baker, Holling fits the bill. Mr. Goldman gives Holling the required number of cream puffs in exchange, but sadly, while the students are at recess, Caliban and Sycorax, the escaped rats who inhabit the classroom walls and ceiling, come out and decimate the treats. Somehow, the disaster is blamed on Holling; he must clean up the mess, and his classmates decree that he still owes them cream puffs. The next Wednesday, Holling brings five cream puffs to school, which is all he can afford. In addition to facing his classmates' ire, he has to deal with the fact that, in the Shakespeare Company Holiday Extravaganza, he must play the part of Ariel, who is a fairy, and wear yellow tights with white feathers on an unmentionable part of his anatomy; "not a good thing for a boy from Camillo Junior High." To Holling's surprise, just when things are at their darkest, Mrs. Baker comes through for him, bringing cream puffs for the students on his behalf. That afternoon, Mrs. Baker and Holling discuss The Tempest, and whether or not Caliban, the "monster," deserves a happy ending. Holling argues that, as the antagonist, he does not, but Mrs. Baker muses whether Shakespeare might have shown, even in a monster, the capacity of humankind to use defeat to grow. Mrs. Bigio stumbles into the classroom at this point, emitting sounds of indescribable sadness; she has just learned that her husband has been killed in a futile reconnaissance mission in Vietnam. Two nights after his funeral, the Catholic Relief Agency, which houses Vietnamese refugees, including Holling's classmate Mai Thi, is the target of a hate crime. Holling reflects that Shakespeare, with his happy endings for nearly everyone in The Tempest, is wrong. He says, "sometimes, there isn't a Prospero to make everything fine...and...the quality of mercy is strained." In December, Camillo Junior High is awash in "signs of the season." Mrs. Baker, however, does not share the holiday spirit, but Holling is too absorbed with his problems with the Shakespeare Holiday Extravaganza to wonder why. As always, Holling seeks help from his family, but to no avail; his mother comments insipidly that his embarrassing costume is cute, his father tells him to wear it to please Mr. Goldman, who might one day need an architect, and his sister warns him that if news of his role gets to the high school, no one better find out they are related. The only thing that prevents December from being a total disaster is Mrs. Baker's announcement that Mickey Mantle will be signing autographs at the Baker Sporting Emporium. Unfortunately, Mrs. Baker also tells the class about Holling and the Shakespeare Extravaganza, and encourages the students to attend both events. Holling's classmates are intensely curious about his role as Ariel, whom he euphemistically describes as "a warrior." Mr. Goldman tells Mrs. Baker that Holling needs "some practice on interpretation", and she practices with him, playing the part of Prospero. Mrs. Baker is a terrific reader, and when she and Holling rehearse the part where Prospero releases Ariel from bondage, Holling is inspired, realizing what it means to be free "to create his own happy ending." On the night of the performance, Mrs. Baker, Mrs. Bigio, Danny Hupfer and his parents, Meryl Lee, and Mai Thi are in the audience to support Holling, unlike his own parents, who do not want to miss the Bing Crosby Christmas Special on television. Holling executes his part with such passion that his classmates are moved to tears, and do not even notice what he is wearing. When the show is over, Holling, finding the dressing room locked, rushes outside, still in costume, where his father is supposed to be waiting to take him to Baker's Sporting Emporium to see Mickey Mantle. Typically, his father is not there, and Holling, frantic, flags down a bus and begs the driver to take him to the Emporium. The driver takes pity on him and complies, getting him to the Emporium just in time, but when Holling approaches Mickey Mantle for an autograph, the famous player looks derisively at his costume and snaps rudely, "I don't sign baseballs for kids in yellow tights." Danny Hupfer witnesses this snub, and loyally returns his own autographed baseball to Mickey Mantle, saying, "I guess I don't need this after all." Holling and Danny leave together in silence, smarting because "when gods die, they die hard." During the days remaining until holiday break, Mrs. Bigio is especially cantankerous; her cafeteria cooking is unappetizing at best, and her comments to the students are impatient and unkind. Holling, remembering Mrs. Bigio's sadness when she received the news of her husband's death, does not complain, but he is bewildered at the sheer desolation he witnesses when Mrs. Bigio bitterly tells Mai Thi that she "shouldn't even be here...a queen in a refugee home while American boys are sitting in swamps on Christmas Day." After school on the last day before break, Mrs. Baker gives Holling, Danny Hupfer, and Doug Swieteck each a new baseball and mitt, and sends them to the gym, where, to their delight, they meet Joe Pepitone and Horace Clark in their Yankee uniforms, and receive tickets to Opening Day at the Stadium. Mrs. Baker's family knows what happened with Mickey Mantle, and wants to make it up to the boys. The next day, President Johnson declares a Christmas ceasefire in Vietnam, and the holiday season begins in earnest.

Broken windows are covered. Floorboards are patched and doors screwed back on. The road that was ruined by German tanks is shovelled and raked smooth. Boot-shaped bruises turn yellow then fade and disappear. Flowers grow and spread across the ugly German footprints stomped into garden beds. The village looks pretty once more. School stops for the summer and everyone is put to work on the kolkhoz, the village farm. Women and big boys begin harvesting the barley crops in the outer fields. The biggest girls milk the cows, morning and night, and keep the barns clean. Old Nikolay mends ploughs, horse harnesses, pitchforks and scythes in his workshop. Anna Pushinka teaches Yelena and her friends how to get the honey from the beehives that are scattered through the orchards. I am in charge of collecting eggs. My friends Olga and Nina help. Olga and Nina are five, a year younger than me. They are twins and look exactly alike, except Nina’s nose is a little bit crooked from when she fell out of bed and squashed it sideways on the floor. The hens, ducks and geese wander free in the summer, so collecting eggs is like a treasure hunt and takes hours. Catching the hens for their daily hugs takes even longer, but I think it’s important because hugs make everyone happy and happy hens lay bigger eggs. Olga says I’m the best hen-hugger in all of Russia. Nina says I’ll be the best cow-hugger, too, when my arms grow longer. But good hugs have nothing to do with the size of your arms. It’s all to do with the size of your heart. When we are done with the hens, Olga, Nina and I can spend the rest of the day doing whatever we like. We climb the apricot trees, chase squirrels, lie in the meadow marvelling at how hot Ushanka’s black fur becomes in the sunshine, make daisy chains and race little boats of bark in the stream. I teach Olga and Nina the alphabet and we use charcoal to write our letters and our names all over the village – on doors and walls and the freshly cut ends of firewood. In between, I practise my knots. In case the German princemonsters return. I slip into Old Nikolay’s workshop and tie knots in the harnesses hanging on the walls. I wander into gardens where the washing is hung out to dry and tie knots in the laces on pants and smocks. I creep up behind Anna Pushinka and tie knots in her apron strings. I find baling twine in the hay shed and tie my own ankles together. I do such a good job of these last knots that I can’t get them undone. I have to jump all the way to Olga and Nina’s house and ask them to cut me free with their mama’s knife. At the end of each day, Ushanka and I run out into the distant barley fields to meet Mama. This is my favourite part of the day, because Mama always shouts, ‘Little Rabbit!’ and smothers my head with kisses. And as we walk home, we sing. Everyone – women, big boys and me. I love to sing. Almost as much as I love to be kissed by Mama. Sometimes one of the boys, Mikhail, has his balalaika with him. He takes the instrument out from beneath the sheaves of barley piled high on the wagon and plays music. We sing about forests and orchards and people who find their true love. As we walk home, arm in arm, my heart fills with happiness and my belly swells with pride that I am allowed to sing along with the big boys. And I can almost forget about the German prince-monsters and their lies about Russia and their big ugly boots. Almost. But today, when Mikhail reaches for his balalaika, I see other things hiding beneath the barley sheaves. Three of the mamas rush forward and cover them up, but it’s too late. I know they are there. I’ve already seen them. Rifles. Lots of rifles. Mikhail hugs his balalaika to his chest and blushes. ‘So play!’ cries Mama, her voice oddly loud and high. ‘Let’s play Sasha’s favourite song, “The Little Birch Tree”.’ So Mikhail plays and everyone sings about the lovely birch tree with its curly leaves and the branches that will be turned into silver flutes. They sing too quickly, too loudly, and as they sing and walk, they cast nervous sideways glances at me. ‘It’s alright,’ I say, when the song comes to an end. ‘I didn’t see the rifles.’ Mama nods and smiles, and I know it was the right thing to say. But I did see the rifles. And I think about Yelena wanting to get lots of guns and dynamite for the Partisans so they can shoot the Germans and blow them into thousands of tiny pieces, and Mama looking as though she agreed, and I know this is what the mamas and the big boys are doing. As well as harvesting, they are helping the Partisans. Three days later, I wake before dawn and I am all alone. Yelena is always here beside me when I wake. But not this morning. I climb down from our bed above the stove. Mama is filling a cloth sack with bread. She ties it closed with a piece of string and hands it to Yelena. ‘Stay out of sight,’ says Mama. ‘And don’t return until after dark.’ ‘Where’s she going?’ I ask. ‘Nowhere,’ snaps Mama. ‘Then why does she need all that bread?’ I ask. ‘There’s nothing left for us.’ Mama baked four loaves last night and she has stuffed them all into the sack. Yelena opens her mouth, but before she can speak, Mama shoves her out the door and sends her on the way to nowhere. Mama turns and stares at me, her blue, blue cornflower eyes wide with worry. ‘I know,’ I say, flopping down on the bench. ‘I didn’t see any bread.’ Mama sits beside me and takes my hand. ‘And . . .?’ she prods, obviously waiting for more. I puzzle for a while, then say, ‘And I don’t have a sister called Yelena.’ Mama laughs, softly and with a little bit of sadness around the edges. ‘Sweet Little Rabbit! You do have a sister called Yelena.’ ‘I do?’ I ask, now confused. ‘I haven’t seen the rifles or the bread, but I have seen Yelena?’ ‘Yes.’ Mama smiles and the magic makes me smile, too. And I am glad that Yelena is real because I love her very much. ‘Yelena is real,’ Mama explains, ‘but she does not carry sacks of bread into the forest for the Partisans.’ ‘Of course not!’ I shout, slapping my forehead. ‘Because there is no bread!’ Mama laughs loudly now, with not a hint of sadness. She hugs me, pressing me against her warm, loving heart, covering my head with kisses. ‘Clever Little Rabbit,’ she murmurs, and then, in barely a whisper, ‘Your papa would be so proud.’ When I wake the next morning, Yelena is sleeping beside me, her mouth open, her braided hair unravelling. Mama is serving kasha to a strange woman seated at our table. I crawl down from above the stove and slide along the bench beside her. I stare at her pants, her tunic, the rope she is using as a belt and her big boots. She’s dressed like a man! And there’s a rifle leaning against the wall near the door. ‘Hello,’ I say. ‘I’m Sasha.’ The woman doesn’t reply. She just shovels down her kasha. I line my four wooden bears along the table in front of her bowl and say, ‘These are my bears: Big Bear, Medium Bear, Little Bear and Even Littler Bear.’ ‘Hello, Sasha. Hello, bears.’ She smiles but she doesn’t tell me her name. ‘Why are you dressed like a man?’ I ask, tugging at the sleeve of her tunic. ‘Because men’s clothes make it easier to run and climb and crawl and shoot,’ she says. ‘You’re a Partisan!’ I gasp. ‘But she’s not real,’ says Mama, placing a bowl of kasha before me. ‘Is the kasha real?’ I ask. Mama laughs. ‘Yes, Little Rabbit.’ I’m glad the food is real, because I’m hungry. But I’m disappointed that the woman is not real. I was going to ask if I could use her rope-belt to tie her ankles together. For practice. But if she’s not real, then the rope and her ankles aren’t either. The woman finishes her kasha, hangs her rifle over her shoulder, kisses Mama on the cheek then slips out the door. I run to the window to watch her leave, but by the time I get there, she’s gone. Vanished. ‘Because she’s not real,’ I whisper. A week later, Mama and I are working in the garden. We sing as we weed between the flowers and pluck caterpillars from the vegetables. Anna Pushinka is picking strawberries in her garden and wanders over. ‘Taste these,’ she says, holding out the basket. Mama reaches in and takes out a fat strawberry and a tiny piece of folded paper. The strawberry goes into her mouth, the paper into her pocket. ‘What’s on the paper?’ I ask. ‘Paper?’ Anna Pushinka replies with a wave of her hand. ‘Goodness, Sasha! Who has money for paper? These are lean times. We must choose between paper for writing and noodles for our soup. And I always choose noodles.’ She chuckles and I know the paper is yet another thing that is not real. That night, Mama slips the paper to Yelena, but she drops it on the floor. I pick it up for her, and I see that there are tiny words and numbers written all over it. I wish I could read better. I’m desperate to know what it says. Or rather, what it doesn’t say, because it’s not real. Later, when Mama has tucked us into our bed above the stove and Ushanka has wrapped herself around the top of my head, I ask Yelena, ‘What’s on the paper?’ ‘What paper?’ says Yelena. ‘The paper that isn’t real,’ I reply. Yelena stares at me, nibbling her lip, then whispers, ‘A message for the Partisans. Stuff about where the Germans have their headquarters and when their trains are travelling and where they store their ammunition.’ ‘Why?’ ‘So the Partisans can blow them up.’ Yelena grabs my arm. ‘But don’t tell anyone. It’s a secret.’ ‘What’s a secret?’ I ask. ‘The message.’ ‘What message?’ I say, my eyes wide. Yelena laughs. ‘Good boy, Sasha.’ My belly swells with pride. I know how to play this game. ‘How are your knots coming along?’ asks Yelena. ‘Good! Yesterday, I crept into the dairy and tied knots in the apron strings of all the girls who were milking and only one of them noticed. Today, I tied Olga’s ankles together with Mama’s embroidery thread and just now, while you were taking a bath, I tied the sleeves of your blouse together in an enormous knot.’ Yelena rolls her eyes, then says, ‘I’ll see if I can find you some rope for practising.’ ‘Practising what?’ I ask. ‘Your knots,’ she says. ‘What knots?’ Yelena, my big sister who is twelve and always serious t

Monster

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