Enter your mobile number or email address below and we'll send you a link to download the free Kindle App. Then you can start reading Kindle books on your smartphone, tablet, or computer - no Kindle device required.
To get the free app, enter your mobile phone number.
The Monument Hardcover – October, 1991
The Amazon Book Review
Author interviews, book reviews, editors picks, and more. Read it now
Customers who viewed this item also viewed
What other items do customers buy after viewing this item?
From Publishers Weekly
Rocky, an adopted, partly lame teenage girl, tells how a memorial to her small Kansas town's war dead came to be built and how her vision and those of the other residents were altered by the monument's artist. When Rocky first encounters Mick Strum, he is filthy and disheveled, sleeping off a drinking binge in his dilapidated car. But she is magnetically drawn to this unlikely seer and from him learns to observe freshly and to develop an artist's eye. In contrast to Paulsen's customary action-packed adventures, this novel is chiefly about ideas--featuring characters whose primary function seems to be expressing concepts about art and the artistic process. As such, the story has an over-intellectualized, sometimes pedantic air and may disappoint readers hoping for the gritty realism, veracity and raw power of Paulsen's best works. Ages 12-up.
Copyright 1991 Reed Business Information, Inc.
From School Library Journal
Grade 6-9-- Figuring she'll never get adopted because of her caramel-colored skin and crippled leg, Rocky finds herself chosen by Emma and Fred, a kind, indulgent, alcoholic couple from Bolton, Kansas. It's in Bolton that she finds her devoted dog, Python, who leads her to Mick, the rumpled artist hired to design a monument to the town's war dead and the person who changes Rocky's view of life, art, and the world. Through the drawings he makes in order to get a feel for the town's people and history, the citizens of Bolton see themselves and their surroundings in a new light, although they're not sure they like it. As Mick does with his sketches, Paulsen tells the story in quick, deft strokes. The gossip at the grain elevator on a summer day, Rocky's insecurities and toughness, and the varied characters are vividly yet succinctly conveyed. In just three days, Mick breezes into town, turns Rocky on to the power of art, and convinces the people of Bolton that a grove of trees will be an appropriate monument as well as an artistic statement. Avoiding a lot of artistic jargon, Paulsen carries readers along with his (and Mick's) strong images and enthusiasm. A powerful, affecting story with its comments on art and homage. --Susan Knorr, Milwaukee Public Library
Copyright 1991 Reed Business Information, Inc.
If you are a seller for this product, would you like to suggest updates through seller support?
Top Customer Reviews
Flash forward to the year 2000 where I was introduced to this heartwarming book in a college class for elementary education majors. I've read it several times since then and even though Paulsen will never be my favorite author, the romantic figure he creates with the character of Mick and the sympathetic Rocky make this story very believable and just plain fun to read and revisit every few years. It's a very fast and easy read. The plot is weak and Gary's own free indirect discourse inserting his own subtle views about art and war are easily overlooked. Anyone ages 10 and up will appreciate this book but for all young boys I'd recommend some of Gary's other adventure and survival stories first if this is their first introduction to his books.
The only way to read The Monument is to have Degas' prints beside the book.
But even with that, even with the beauty, I was still trying to work, trying to see the colors and the way Degas had drawn things until I turned the page and just stopped, stopped dead.
It was a painting of a group of young women practicing ballet, called The Dance Master. The wall in the room was green and there was a big mirror on one side for the dancers to see themselves. In the background there is a raised platform or bleachers for people to sit and watch and dancers are everywhere, practicing, stretching, fixing their costumes. On one side there is an older man leaning on a cane--an instructor--and he is watching them, studying them, and still I would have been all right except for the girl.
She was standing to the side of the dancers but almost in the middle of the painting and she is watching them, worried about something, with her hand to her mouth, and I looked at her and started to cry.
She looked like me, or sort of like me, but that wasn't it--at first I didn't know why I was crying. Then I thought of what they were, all of them, dancers, and that all of what they were was gone.
The painting was done in the late eighteen-hundreds. They were all gone. All dead. I wanted to know the girl, wanted to watch them practice. I wanted to see the dresses move and hear the music, wanted to know which ones the dance master picked for performance and if the girl who looked a little like me was one of them. I wanted to talk to them and ask them how it was to wear the costumes and dance and dance and dance without one stiff leg. I wanted to know their dreams and hopes...