Monster

So I confess, I read this book because I encountered it on a list of book someone felt young people should not read (because of the references to violence and prison rape, apparently). As I'm a little rebellious, I took note of the titles which sounded particularly dicey and requested this one from the library. After finishing this book, I must say that I completely disagree with the opinion that this book should not be read. Monster chronicles a young man accused of a crime through the creative means of a diary and screenplay he writes about his trial. Yes, there is violence and rape in this book, but even more powerful is the critique of the social system - which might have been the real reason this book ended up on a Do-Not-Read show more List. On the contrary, I found it well-worth the read. show less

Steve Harmon is a sixteen-year-old on trial as an accessory to murder. He is accused as participating as the look-out in a drugstore robbery that left the owner dead. This book, written by award winning author Walter Dean Myers, is engaging from the start; it is written in the unique format of a screenplay, modeled after Steve's interest in becoming a screenwriter. The reader is given insight not only into the court proceedings, but also the stream of consciousness of Steve as he is in prison during his trial. Concepts of honesty, moral character, relative truth, justice, and more are explored in this gripping story, which was the first ever winner of the Michael L. Printz award for excellence in young adult literature.

Monster, written by Walter Dean Myers, is a unique, engaging book that is captivating for readers of all ability levels. I stumbled upon this book in our library’s “textbook” shelves, where we have copies stored for our English intervention classes. Monster is used in these intervention classes because it qualifies as a “hi-lo” book: a high-interest novel that is accessible for students of low reading abilities. Initially, I was kind of skeptical about starting Monster; however, I was quickly converted into a fan once I got began reading Myers’s novel.

With Monster, Myers presents the story of sixteen-year-old Steve Harmon, a young black man who is on trial as an accomplice to murder. Because the story is told from Steve’s show more perspective, we are led to believe in his innocence throughout the novel; however, the doubts that Myers lets creep in leave the reader feeling conflicted about Steve’s innocence (or lack thereof). Over the course of the novel, the reader watches Steve navigate through his new life in prison and fight to retain his sanity in a world of very real (prison-induced) madness. Myers’s depiction of life in jail is unflinchingly honest, presenting all of the horrors, sadness, and panic that accompany living in a prison cell.

While the demographic is clearly hard to reach, Monster has the recipe for success with struggling male readers (the presumed target audience of the novel): a gritty portrait of modern urban life, a believable narrator who is a male of color, a courtroom drama, a murder that has been committed, and a very limited amount of “fluffy” writing. Even reluctant readers (many of whom hate everything that has been given to them in English class) will undoubtedly find themselves engaged in Steve’s story; however, more developed readers (such as yours truly) will still feel invested in the story and read through page after page to find out the verdict for Steve’s case.

The most unique aspect of Monster is that it breaks the traditional novel format, incorporating journal entries, illustrations, and (most notably) film scripts into the storytelling. As with TTYL (which targets female high school readers), much of Monster’s strength comes from its format; however, unlike TTYL, the underlying story is captivating and memorable. Although the “screenplay” format that dominates the novel mimics the main character’s passion for film, it also allows Myers to engage with struggling readers in a much more accessible style of storytelling. Regardless of these sleight-of-hand literary tricks, Myers has crafted a novel capable of reaching a wide audience… including those very adolescents who find themselves hanging with the wrong crowd, like Steve Harmon does in Monster. show less

Half of those jurors...believed you were guilty the moment they laid eyes on you. You're young, you're Black, and you're on trial. What else do they need to know?

At sixteen years old, Steve Harmon is on trial as an accomplice to a murder. As a high school student with an interest in filmmaking, Steve records his time in jail and in the courtroom in the form of a screenplay, titling it what the prosecutor called him: Monster by author Walter Dean Myers.

Count this as the only time I've ever read a novel written as a movie. That immediately got my attention when I picked up this YA book on an impulse.

But what I came to appreciate most about the story? It didn't turn out to be the oversimple tale it could have been. It may be easy to string show more together a bunch of clichés concerning a hot button topic, to insert them into a predictable plot, and then—BAM!—you've got a novel about a hot social "issue."

This novel isn't that. Yes, it relevantly takes a social climate into account, but it isn't merely using that to spin a drama together, nor is it just a ride or a race to figure out whodunit. Rather, this is a story of lost innocence. It's a story of reflection, of questions.

Haunting questions.

And it seems to me, the novel's value is in getting readers, especially (but not only) young adults, to reflect. To question. Perhaps to even form a habit of reflecting, of seriously thinking about what's important, before trouble demands it. show less

Steve is sixteen years old and on trial for murder. As he awaits his verdict, he records the events of his trial as if he was writing a screenplay. As the trial proceeds, the reader is given more and more information about the botched robbery that Steve is accused of participating in, and allowed to make their own decision about his guilt or innocence, and even about whether or not Steve is telling us the truth.

Monster asks some deep questions about responsibility: Are we responsible for the consequences when things don't go according to plan? Who is responsible for the downtrodden who see crime as the only way to get ahead? How are our societal systems responsible for perpetuating no-escape situations? This book is also rich for show more literary analysis: is Steve an unreliable narrator, and how does that affect the way we read his story? What does Myers tell us about the people who work for the system- the lawyers, the judge, the guards, the clerks, and how they view the the people in the system, like Steve? What Myers does, though, that makes this book so much better than other, more didactic books for classroom use, is he makes these questions accessible to young readers without the need for adult intermediaries. Reading Steve's story, you can't help but make your own decision about his involvement in the crime. Myers lays out the tough questions for you, but refuses to provide easy answers. Regardless of the outcome of the trial, there will be consequences.

As an aside, this was a repeat reading for me, and I would have sworn that the book ended without revealing the verdict. In fact, I would have listed the unreliable narrator and the ambiguous endings as the primary features of the book. The book raises so many questions that stick with me that I attributed even more ambiguity to it than it really has. show less

In a riveting novel from Myers (At Her Majesty’s Request, 1999, etc.), a teenager who dreams of being a filmmaker writes the story of his trial for felony murder in the form of a movie script, with journal entries after each day’s action.

Steve is accused of being an accomplice in the robbery and murder of a drug store owner. As he goes through his trial, returning each night to a prison where most nights he can hear other inmates being beaten and raped, he reviews the events leading to this point in his life. Although Steve is eventually acquitted, Myers leaves it up to readers to decide for themselves on his protagonist’s guilt or innocence.

The format of this taut and moving drama forcefully regulates the pacing; breathless, show more edge-of-the-seat courtroom scenes written entirely in dialogue alternate with thoughtful, introspective journal entries that offer a sense of Steve’s terror and confusion, and that deftly demonstrate Myers’s point: the road from innocence to trouble is comprised of small, almost invisible steps, each involving an experience in which a “positive moral decision” was not made. (Fiction. 12-14)

-Kirkus Review show less

I wish I’d read this book at a younger age, because I think it’s an amazing introduction to racism and how people view even black teenage boys as dangerous and are more likely to consider them guilty of crimes, even with circumstantial evidence. This story is told through the point of view of Steve, who was in the wrong place at the wrong time and associated with the wrong people. The format of the book is interesting in that Steve likes making movies and he filters the events through a sort of screenplay; describing how he would frame the scenes and edit the dialogue if he were to make a movie out of them.

The story moves quickly, but it’s intense. You’re thrown right into the action and I found myself rooting for Steve almost show more right away; I was completely immersed into his experiences and thoughts. The screenplay aspect does give a level of removal to the story itself, and it frames it in an interesting way. It’s almost as if Myers is forcing us to look at the events and evaluate them for ourselves. How would we make our own movie out of what happened? How would we frame what was happening? What would we include? What would we conclude from Steve’s version of events if we didn’t have his voice helping us along to make our own conclusions?

There’s a focus on bias and the politics of crime, which is an amazing introduction for younger readers to the prevalence of racism and how our prejudices can get in the way of logical reasoning and even empathy for another human. It does a great job of calling these out while also keeping you grounded in Steve’s story and wanting him to get a not-guilty verdict. I would definitely recommend everyone to read this; it’s poignant, emotional, and teaches hard truths.

Also posted on Purple People Readers. show less