monster essay questions

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1. Even though the ending of the book is ambiguous about Steve Harmon's 

   guilt or innocence, how does the author Walter Dean Myers show Steve to

   be more human than monster?

2. After reading the book , by Walter Dean Myers, most readers

   would agree that Steve Harmon is not the monster the prosecutor has 

   made him out to be in her opening remarks.  However, he also may not be

   totally innocent of the crime either.  What actions or mistakes did Steve

   make which have led him to be placed on trial?

3. Race and youth are complex issues that are examined in this book. On

   page 90, Kathy O'Brien, Steve's defense attorney, says half of the jurors

   automatically believe Steve is guilty because he is young and black.  During

   the trial, how does Miss O'Brien combat this prejudice and force jurors to

   look past the colour of Steve's skin?

4. Why do you believe the jury found Steve Harmon not guilty? Point to

    three weaknesses in the prosecutor's case that have cast reasonable

   doubt on the charges against Steve Harmon.

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A Monster Calls Essay Topics & Writing Assignments

Essay Topic 1

One of Conor’s assignments for school is to write about his life for English class. What stories can Conor think of from his life, and why does not want to share his stories with anyone else?

Essay Topic 2

A monster appears to Conor in his backyard, but Conor is not afraid of him. Why is Conor not afraid of the monster or afraid to talk back to the monster?

Essay Topic 3

The monster tells Conor that he has come because Conor called him. What does Conor think is the purpose for the monster coming, and why is Conor disappointed when he learns the real purpose for the monster’s visits?

Essay Topic 4

Conor thinks that the stories the monster tells are like fairy tales. Are the stories fairy tales? Why are they or are they not fairy tales?

Essay Topic 5

Conor feels isolated and alone...

(read more Essay Topics)

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A Monster Calls

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A modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more. For select classroom titles, we also provide Teaching Guides with discussion and quiz questions to prompt student engagement.

Chapter Summaries & Analyses

Chapters 1-6

Chapters 7-12

Chapters 13-18

Chapters 19-26

Chapters 27-32

Character Analysis

Symbols & Motifs

Important Quotes

Essay Topics

Discussion Questions

Why has Conor told no one else about his nightmare at the beginning of the story? How does Ness challenge Conor’s decision to keep this secret?

Conor has the chance to tell Miss Kwan about Harry bullying him several times. Why does he lie and say that everything is fine?

Consider the different items left behind after the monster visits Conor. What do the leaves, the berries, and the sapling represent after each visit?

Related Titles

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Can we ever separate ‘art’ from the ‘monster’ who made it?

Andrea skinner has revealed she suffered child sexual abuse at the hands of her stepfather – and her mother, the nobel prize winning author alice munro, knew but did nothing about it. what do we do with her canon of work now, asks megan pillow.

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T his is about Alice Munro, but it is not about Alice Munro. I begin, instead, with her daughter, Andrea Robin Skinner, because she’s the one who was brave enough to bring us here.

In an essay in the Toronto Star this week – now much discussed on social media – Skinner writes of the horrific events of her childhood, detailing her sexual abuse by her stepfather, Gerald Fremlin – and her mother’s decision to side and stay with him.

“I was nine years old,” she says, giving context to her life “before”. “I was a happy child – active and curious –who had only just realized I couldn’t grow up to be a sheep-herding dog, a great disappointment, as I loved both dogs and sheep.”

The essay is a gutting read. Skinner details how Fremlin harrassed and abused her from the age of nine, through to her teenage years. It reveals an awful truth about a literary icon ( Munro died in May at the age of 92 ). It is also the only place that “happy child” exists.

I look for photos of her online, and I find a few: blonde and smiling, one where she is staring intently into the lens. But every time I type in Skinner’s name, a photo of Munro appears.

I’ve read a lot about Skinner this week, and the ghost of Alice Munro overshadows every story. Headline after headline in the wake of Skinner’s essay and the companion piece refers to her as “Alice Munro’s daughter” or “daughter of the Nobel laureate.”

Article after article asks what we do with Alice Munro now and shares how shattered her fans are . Some of our most revered literary figures have discussed their shock, Munro’s mindset and the impact of her fiction, but they have not mentioned Skinner’s name.

This is, all too often, what happens in the wake of horrific revelations involving a public figure.

Often, there’s considerable public hand-wringing, but very little of it honors survivors. I read one piece in particular that engaged beautifully and thoughtfully with Skinner’s story: an essay written by author, editor, and Booker Prize finalist Brandon Taylor for his newsletter “Sweater Weather”.

Taylor discusses his own history of sexual abuse, how painfully Skinner’s experience mirrors and diverges from his own, and how little interest he usually maintains in the author of a work; but how here, both the biography and the banality of the horror are unavoidable. Yet still, while he read Skinner’s essay, Taylor says he did not think of Munro, the “brilliant spinner of stories,” at all.

“I did not think of the work or the art, or even what are we going to do with the work now that we know this?” he writes. “My first and only thought was Andrea Skinner’s words, which I believed in their totality.”

Like Taylor, I believe Skinner, and she was my first thought. But unlike Taylor, I did think of Munro, and I’m ashamed at my inability to ignore her. Not only does biography hound us, but many of us have bought into the myth of the “national treasure”; the artist who is lauded as much as the art.

I’ve thought a lot about what we do with the art of monstrous people. I accept my part. I am the one reading Skinner and infusing her work with Munro’s reputation. I also know I do this (in part) because of my own history of sexual abuse, which I’m still unravelling; and the puzzled innocence of my nine-year-old’s face as he asks me why I’m so upset by this story.

The thing is: there always has been – and always will be – art by monstrous people. We cannot possibly erase it all. Some will toss their Munro books in the bin, but most will eventually return to reading her, just as they returned to David Foster Wallace and Dr. Dre and Carl Andre and the many other artists who have allegedly abused or facilitated abuse.

Memory is slippery, selective. The traumas of other people soften and fade, but the art persists. After a while, we forget the survivor’s name. We are also the monster. We need to own it.

And we own it by doing exactly what Skinner asks us to: we incorporate our new knowledge of Munro into her legacy. We add it to every biography.

We also must make it safer for the survivors of abuse to speak. We add their names to every mention of the artist. We focus on their work separately – and where we can, we do this without mentioning their abusers at all. We read more Mary Karr, more Dee Barnes, exhibit more Ana Mendieta. We read more by Andrea Robin Skinner.

I hope Skinner will continue to write. I want to read about how she learned to be a parent, about the child she was before Fremlin’s abuse. Skinner’s work is compelling and vulnerable; it now interests me more than Munro’s. Skinner’s history was one that Munro did not have the courage to write. Munro’s fiction may still tell us a kind of perverse truth, but Skinner is its genesis. Let’s begin there.

Megan Pillow is a writer, editor and scholar. She is the co-author of Do The Work with Roxane Gay

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Special Edition: Monsters and the Monstrous

Call for Papers:   Special Edition Monsters and the Monstrous

Submission Deadline: November 30, 2024

Email Proposals To: [email protected]

The Journal of Popular Culture is soliciting article proposals for the special edition, “Monsters and the Monstrous,” which will explore the tremendous growth and wide-ranging appeal of monsters and the monstrous throughout global popular culture. The proposals should emphasize how cultures create ideas of monstrous bodies and utilize monsters as allegories for all manner of identities, issues, and socio-cultural experiences. We envision that this edition will serve as an interdisciplinary catalyst, welcoming and encouraging further scholarship in this field.

Recognizing the broad definition of the term monster, we welcome topics ranging from the inhabitants of Sesame Street to medieval studies to medical oddities. The label of monster has often been invoked to separate the “natural” from the “unnatural” and the acceptable from the socially unacceptable. Whether referring to mythological creatures, the Victorian creations that have become standards through Universal film adaptations, or as shorthand to denigrate othered peoples, the monster has no shortage of applications and, sometimes, reevaluations.

Potential paper topics could include:

• Monsters and the Marginalized (i.e., race, gender, ethnicity, sexualities, (dis)abilities, national origin)
• Monsters queering societal norms and the monster as Other
• Monsters and consent on screen and page
• The Non-Western Monster (i.e. Black, Asian, Latino/a/x, African, Aboriginal)
• Monsters on television
• Legacy Cinematic Monsters
• Monstrous Consumption, Merchandizing, and Other Capitalistic Adventures
• Monstrous Cultures and Contexts (i.e. monster RPGs or other gaming universes, fan studies, graphic novels, Tik Tok & other social media platforms)
• Genre Monsters (i.e. Gothic Horror, Urban Fantasy, Romance, Steampunk, Early Readers, Children’s Picture Books, Young Adult, Erotica, Comedy)
• Historic and contemporary monstrous locations and geographies (i.e. cemeteries, castles, cities)
• Freakshows and oddities
• Monsters in the classroom

If you are interested in contributing to this special issue, please send a 300-word abstract to the editors U. Melissa Anyiwo, David Hansen, Amanda Jo Hobson, Colleen Karn, and Lisa Nevarez at [email protected]  by September 30, 2024 . Authors will be notified in early October 2024, whether they should submit a full version of their article for initial review. Full-length articles of 5500-7500 words including sources will be due by June 1, 2025 , to editors for review, and final edited articles will be due to Journal of Popular Culture by November 1, 2025 . Final decisions about the publication of articles are subject to the Journal of Popular Culture ’s standard peer-review process. We particularly welcome scholars of diverse identities, races, and genders, whose work examines monsters and monstrous bodies from global perspectives and non-normative experiences.

The Journal of Popular Culture (TJPC) is a peer-reviewed journal and the official publication of the Popular Culture Association. https://journalofpopularculture.com/

A Monster Calls

By patrick ness, a monster calls essay questions.

How is the concept of "denial" relevant to A Monster Calls ?

As the most prevalent of the novel's major themes and one of the common stages of grief, the concept of denial plays a crucial role in A Monster Calls . When Conor learns of his mother's terminal diagnosis, he enters such a deep state of denial that he can't use the word "cancer," even in his thoughts. Ness replicates this denial in the narrative voice, as the narrator never names Conor's mother's illness either. Similarly, by refusing to discuss his mother's treatments in anything but optimistic terms, Conor upholds the pretense that his mother's cancer is nothing to worry about because she will ultimately survive. However, Conor admits later in the novel that he has known all along that his mother would not survive. The monster explains to Conor that the need to lie to himself (i.e. to be in denial) was necessary to mask the pain that comes from knowing intuitively that his mother would not live much longer. In this way, Ness shows Conor's denial as an understandable response to the incomprehensible nature of death—a coping mechanism that gets Conor through the pain of watching his mother slowly die. Ultimately, Conor overcomes his denial with the monster's help, and he can say goodbye to his mother and accept her impending death.

What is the significance of anger in A Monster Calls ?

As a common stage of grief, anger is one of the major themes in A Monster Calls . Because Conor believes it is his responsibility to maintain optimism about his mother's treatments, Conor also believes that he doesn't need any help or for anyone to be concerned about him. As a result, when people at school or in his extended family attempt to express sympathy to Conor, he responds in anger as a means of refusing to accept their care and what their care implies. Using anger, Conor keeps people at a distance, allowing him to remain isolated in his lie and uphold his denial. Although Conor finds satisfaction in releasing his anger by destroying his grandmother's possessions or lashing out at Lily Andrews, he often feels a reflexive shame after his outbursts. Conor's mother and the monster both tell Conor that his anger is warranted, but it later becomes clear that Conor is seeking to be punished for his angry outbursts because he believes that his pessimism about his mother's condition means he deserves to be punished by an authority figure. In this way, Conor has a paradoxical relationship to his anger, as he subconsciously uses anger not only to keep people away but to attract attention.

What is the truth the monster wants Conor to tell? Why?

During one of the monster's early visits, it informs Conor that it has come to tell three tales, after which Conor will tell his own story—a story that will be "the truth." Having simultaneously established the novel's premise and created mystery around the truth Conor is unwilling to tell, Ness leads the reader toward multiple understandings of what Conor's truth is. Conor's first truth is the truth of what happens in the nightmare that haunts him throughout the novel. In the nightmare, Conor lets go of his mother's hand as she falls to her death; the shameful truth of the nightmare is that Conor feels relief when he lets her go, as it puts an end to the uncertainty that stalks his life as he watches her slowly die. Conor refuses to let anyone know how he feels because he believes he must hold out hope that his mother's treatments will save her. However, the monster informs Conor that it is understandable simultaneously to wish for his mother to get better and to wish for her to die to end her and his pain. While Ness leads the reader to believe this is the extent of Conor's truth, the monster convinces Conor to speak another truth when Conor is at his mother's bedside. The second truth that Conor says to his mother is that he doesn't want her to go. It is this deeper truth that Conor could not face, but once he accepts the truth of his mother's condition, he can be honest with her and admit his genuine feelings before she goes.

Of all the forms the monster could have taken, why might Ness have based the monster on a yew tree?

Ness likely based the monster on a yew tree because the yew tree is a symbol of both healing and of death. Living for hundreds of years and commonly grown in graveyards, the evergreen European yew tree is known as "the tree of the dead." Historically, monks have believed yew trees to be poisonous because their roots suck up poisonous substances from graveyard corpses. The yew's mystical aura is also likely informed by the tree's ability to regenerate new shoots from seemingly dead heartwood. While most parts of the yew tree are poisonous, the bark is used in anti-cancer drugs; this aspect of the yew has direct relevance to the plot of A Monster Calls , as Conor's mother's doctors put her on a yew tree–derived drug as a last resort. The yew's symbolic significance develops further when the yew monster reveals to Conor that it has come to help Conor heal emotionally. Through telling tales gleaned from its centuries of wisdom, the yew leads Conor through his denial and helps him accept death as an unfair reality. As a result, Conor begins to heal from the pain of knowing his mother is going to die and the monster fulfills its symbolic role.

Explain the relationship between isolation and Conor's dilemma.

Because Conor's impulse is to deny that his mother is dying in favor of feigning optimism, he instinctively isolates from anyone who might try to have him accept the truth of his devastating reality. After Lily Andrews lets the teachers and pupils at school know of his mother's illness, Conor notices that other people's behavior toward him changes. Their expressions become mournful and they are unwilling to act normally or show happiness around Conor. In response, Conor senses that he must isolate himself if he is going to keep up the pretense that his mother will be fine, which no one's mournful reaction would suggest. Conor rejects his friendship with Lily Andrews, and then grows increasingly isolated, eating alone at lunch and speaking to no one, as though invisible. Similarly, Conor isolates from his family, as his father and grandmother are more realistic in their attitude toward Conor's mother's impending death. And while Conor's denial unites him with his mother in that they both pretend she is going to get better, denial also isolates them from each other because neither is willing to admit to the truth they both conceal. Ultimately, the monster prompts Conor to move out of isolation by teaching him to accept the unfair truth of his mother's diagnosis and his true feelings about wanting her to die so she and he will no longer have to live in uncertainty and pain.

A Monster Calls Questions and Answers

The Question and Answer section for A Monster Calls is a great resource to ask questions, find answers, and discuss the novel.

What is an example of personification from a monster calls

"And we hear wood groaning, “. . . like the hungry stomach of the world, growling for a meal.”

how does connor change 'throughout a monster calls'?

I can't write an essay for you but can give a general response. Conor is the novel's protagonist and point-of-view character. At thirteen, Conor is haunted by a dream in which his terminally ill mother's hands slip from his grasp. He is also the...

Study Guide for A Monster Calls

A Monster Calls study guide contains a biography of Patrick Ness, literature essays, quiz questions, major themes, characters, and a full summary and analysis.

• About A Monster Calls
• A Monster Calls Summary
• Character List

Lesson Plan for A Monster Calls

• About the Author
• Study Objectives
• Common Core Standards
• Introduction to A Monster Calls
• Relationship to Other Books
• Bringing in Technology
• Notes to the Teacher
• Related Links
• A Monster Calls Bibliography

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‘Twisters’ Review: When the Monster Is Real

Glen Powell and Daisy Edgar-Jones lead a stand-alone sequel to the 1996 hit — and times sure have changed.

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By Alissa Wilkinson

The 1996 mega-blockbuster “ Twister ” is pleasing in its almost childlike simplicity. It’s a monster movie where the monster is a tornado, which neither knows nor cares about the people chasing it down. A tornado does not have a vendetta. It’s not even hungry, like a zombie is. Its path is erratic but its behavior is predictable: It forms, it destroys and then it simply collapses.

That means the real intrigue comes from the human side of things, and on that point “Twister,” with a healthy dose of mid-90s style tropes and an absurdly stacked secondary cast (including Philip Seymour Hoffman, Alan Ruck, Jami Gertz and Todd Field, the future director of “Tár”), delivers mightily. The movie’s enduring status as a classic is due in no small part to its continual appearance on cable TV — and it works so well in that medium because you can flick it on at virtually any moment and know basically what’s going on. The estranged lovers Helen Hunt and Bill Paxton chase a tornado, hoping to deploy a device cheekily named “Dorothy” that will help them understand it better and save lives. No complicated back stories, no lore necessary.

Nearly thirty years later, “Twisters,” billed as a stand-alone sequel to “Twister,” has a bit of a tougher hill to climb. For one, the era of straightforward original blockbusters ended a long time ago, swallowed up by superheroes and franchises. “Twister” has its fans, but the only character “Twisters” shares with its predecessor is the tornado.

And tornadoes aren’t what they used to be either. When I left my screening of “Twisters” and turned on my phone, I saw a text from my mother, who lives in a region known more for its blizzards than tornadoes. The National Weather Service, as it turned out, was warning residents to look out for thunderstorms, flash flooding and … tornadoes.

The words “climate change” are never uttered in “Twisters,” but as anyone in the path of extreme weather knows, things have been getting worse. This hurricane season is predicted to be an unusually bad one . If you tried to travel over Memorial Day weekend, you felt the real effects . And tornadoes now tend to rove in packs . There’s a reason the title of this movie is plural.

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