Book review: The Hunger Games series
Side note: I wrote this post a week before the announcement of the new Hunger Games prequel, and was putting off editing and posting. Ironic timing. I will absolutely be reading that as soon as I can get my hands on it.
As part of my 100 Books list, I’ve been re-reading the Hunger Games trilogy in the last few weeks. Since I remember the stories well and had already read the books twice, I was unprepared for the surprises my third reading brought me.
Here’s one college graduate’s somewhat lengthy take on the bestselling trilogy.
The Hunger Games
Suzanne Collins
In the ruins of North America lies Panem, with a shining Capitol surrounded by twelve districts. The Capitol keeps the districts in line with the annual Hunger Games, where children fight to the death on live TV. For sixteen-year-old Katniss Everdeen, survival is second nature. But if she is to win the Games, she will have to make choices that weigh survival against humanity and life against love.
(Beware: There will be spoilers.)
Books vs. movies
The books and movies are certainly more different than I remembered. Gale, Katniss’ childhood best friend and one love interest, is an incendiary, angry teenager in the books, but a strong, romantic leader/hero in the movies. Book Plutarch (Quarter Quell Head Gamemaker and secret rebel) is an entertainer and grand producer first and foremost; in the movie, he’s painted more as a mastermind or revolutionary genius.
One change I really appreciated was the fate of Effie, Katniss’ and Peeta’s Capitol escort/chaperone/handler. In the books, once Katniss is rescued from her second Games (the Quarter Quell in book two) by rebels, we don’t see Effie again or know her fate until the end of the series (she was imprisoned in the Capitol). In the movies, she takes the place that Katniss’ prep team played in book three, making her over for the rebels’ propaganda films. (She also goes a step further, writing speeches and getting a little involved in directing.) This works both to keep a beloved character in the plot, give us some comedic relief in the stark military compound, and fill the role that the prep team, having been written out of the other movies, can’t.
The movies also changed the tone and message of the books. While I understand the need for an epic “good vs. evil,” black-and-white narrative in blockbuster movies, the film series misses the main point of the books: nobody wins in war and there are no real good guys or bad guys. The books cover messy, necessary questions of population that Panem’s President Snow often raises and rebel President Coin does later have to address. If everyone is willing to die for freedom, who will be left to live freely? If sacrifice is necessary to achieve peace, how many will be left to live in peace?
General writing impressions
The writing in the series is much more simplistic than I remember. Of course, they’re books written for middle and high school ages, so they have to fit certain reading levels. It works for the narrator’s age and language, and the syntax still masterfully accomplishes both telling the story and communicating subtext. Hats off to Suzanne Collins.
There’s a lot of foreshadowing I missed in previous readings. From the beginning, there are hints of the threat President Coin could become, laying a foundation for the twist ending (Katniss kills her). The descriptions of military rule in District 13 play into that as well, since Katniss and the rebels are fighting for real freedom that District 12 refugees don’t find in District 13’s military compound.
The love triangle is actually well foreshadowed, too. When I first read the books, I expected Katniss to live out her days single, without either love interest. But now I can see how the always-simmering conflict with Gale — a firey, impassioned, often merciless rebel with radical ideas — leads to the explosive end of their friendship. Gale was always that person, but Katniss didn’t see that until the rebellion gave him an outlet. Meanwhile, Peeta has been taking care of Katniss since before they even knew each other. Without him, she would quite literally be dead many times over. When Gale says Katniss will choose the person she can’t survive without, he is summing up the entire series’ love triangle in one line.
How did we get here?
I wish the books (or a prequel, maybe) explained more of the first war, called the Dark Days. It would be easier to understand and sympathize with Snow and the Capitol if we knew where they came from and what Snow (and other older adults) remembers that Katniss doesn’t. Of course, that’s probably exactly why it’s not in the books; Katniss’ perception of people and events would be different when tempered with the memories and knowledge of days past, and we’re meant as readers to see Snow as a terrible villain.
Still, it would nice to see how Panem got to where it is, as well as to see how North America became Panem in the first place. Also, where is the rest of the world?? I could believe Panem being a closed-off country that others steered clear of or didn’t know the truth about, but at least acknowledge if that’s the state of things. There is zero hint of any international relations or other countries even existing in this series. That’s one thing I did appreciate about the YA dystopian Selection series: the books give us both an indication of how today’s societies became that world and information about countries outside of the story’s specific setting.
Our epic villain? President Snow
The leader of Panem, often described as snake-like, is Katniss’ greatest enemy and worst nightmare. My first two read-throughs, I too hated the man to no end and desperately craved the death he deserved as a wicked villain. This time, I saw him as a more complicated and human figure than that.
The books’ themes of war, just-war theory, and how there are no real winners or losers is actually in part voiced by President Snow. His main argument when trying to convince Katniss to prevent and later work against a rebellion is that, if the districts rebel against the Capitol again, all will be chaos, everyone will die, and nothing and no one will be left. As despicable a man as Snow is, he’s not wrong. Panem doesn’t have a very large population. The biggest problem of District 13, home and leaders of the rebellion, is the constant question of how to maintain, let alone grow, its tiny population. With all the deaths of Peacekeeper Capitol soldiers and rebels from every district, the only reason President Coin doesn’t (heartlessly) execute all Capitol citizens after the rebellion is the basic need for numbers to survive as a new nation. She and Snow were never actually that different.
In that vein, I also realized that Snow takes his role as leader very seriously and truly understands what war would mean. He is selfish, power-hungry, and amoral, but also utilitarian and, in his own eyes at least, a responsible ruler. He works to obtain not just what he wants but what the country needs to survive after him. He’s also clearly very aware of his own age and frailty. His goals and focus go beyond just living in power and wealth; he’s building what he believes is the best world to maintain peace and provide for the people who come after him. (The movies nod to this with the addition of scenes featuring his granddaughter.) And, when he visits Katniss in book two to threaten her in an effort to stifle the district uprisings, he really does see her as an ally (or at least a tool) to prevent war — not just a kid to manipulate.
Luxury, waste, and hunger
It doesn’t take much analysis to see the Capitol as a representation of America. In high school, I wrote a guest blog post (no longer available online) about food insecurity. I don’t remember it very well. This read-through, my thoughts on the comparison of Capitol and districts with America and third world countries went a slightly different direction.
Obviously, Capitol citizens gorge themselves on food while district residents starve to death. Many Capitol citizens are unaware of how bad things really are in the districts, but many are not — they just don’t seem to care. As a public relations graduate, I studied media in college courses, and one thing that stood out to me this time was the effect media presentations in the Capitol had on its citizens. I mean, the series is about a television show, after all.
The districts, the Hunger Games, and the reality of where and how goods (like food) are dispersed in Panem are presented in specific, intentional ways through television programming that guides Capitol citizens’ opinions. The Capitol presents, and therefore sees, President Snow as a smart, powerful, and benevolent leader; the districts as sources of necessary goods and materials; district residents as loyal Panem citizens happily fulfilling their role in a larger society; and the Hunger Games as a long-running national tradition to honor the country’s history and celebrate what makes the districts unique while bringing all of Panem together.
As a result of these perceptions, Capitol citizens grow up believing positive things about Panem and how it works, and they trust the system. They believe they are meant to live in the Capitol and deserve the nice things they have. The harsh realities that seem so obvious to people from the districts are simply incompatible with Capitol mentalities, which have been cultivated through multiple generations now, since each citizen’s birth. Psychologically, it’s incredibly difficult to process cognitive dissonance and accept a reality so in contrast to the one Capitol citizens have held their whole lives. (This is a huge part of the “panem et circuses” Latin concept explained by Plutarch in Mockingjay that sums up the Panem system. People will give up their power — and responsibility — for food and entertainment.)
Of course, some Capitol citizens have opened their eyes. Plutarch, Cinna, even Effie in Catching Fire and Mockingjay, were born and raised Capitol citizens who recognized how wrong the Panem system was, and they decided to do something about it. (Ironically, the Quarter Quell twist sending the beloved Capitol’s victors back to their deaths shook a lot of citizens’ views and opened many eyes.) But the vast majority of people living a decent, comfortable life will find it much, much harder to accept that maybe it’s not fair that they have that life (true of both Americans and Capitol citizens).
What makes this even trickier is the fact that, actually, luxury is not an evil thing in itself — and how “luxury” is defined depends completely on your individual baseline. Plumbing, running water, electricity — these are things real first-world countries like America see as basics of life, often taken for granted. The districts of Panem lack these things. Enough food for everyone, clean water, hot showers — more things the districts don’t have that both America and the Capitol usually expect as givens. When readers see banquets of stuffed pigs, scented showers, light shows, fur garments, and marble palatial homes, then we suddenly recognize the ‘disgusting excess’ of luxury. But scented showers and marble homes aren’t inherently bad things. They just seem evil, heartless, unbelievable to readers and the districts because they are (to us) obviously unnecessary things that exist solely for enjoyment, while so many people still lack the basic necessities to survive.
Basically: (1) Capitol citizens don’t know any better and would need a lot of time, patience, and education to understand the real injustices going on in Panem; and (2) luxury is not by nature evil, but despicable when it is obtained through the exploitation (starvation, slavery, etc) of others.
PTSD
Other than a critique of reality television, this book is about war and PTSD. I read an interview delving into the personal background of Suzanne Collins, her veteran father’s PTSD, and her motivations for writing this series, and it really illuminated a lot about the series for me. I can’t find the one I read, but there are other interviews with Collins touching on similar topics: one for children and teens at Scholastic, and one for adults at the New York Times.
There’s soooo much to be said about the books and how they address war, just-war theory, PTSD and trauma, etc. But that’s all been said very well by Collins herself and by other reviewers and writers. I just want to make one point, personally: I wish everyone would quit criticizing the love triangle. In the grand scheme of the YA dystopian genre, yeah, love triangles have gotten a bit old. But in this series, it’s not just a love triangle, and it’s not the main plot. (The movies did the series a disservice here in playing to the money-making fans by focusing on the romantic component of scenes between Katniss and the male leads.)
In Collins’ NYT interview, she said it herself: “Peeta and Gale appeared quickly, less as two points on a love triangle, more as two perspectives in the just-war debate. Gale, because of his experiences and temperament, tends toward violent remedies. Peeta’s natural inclination is toward diplomacy. Katniss isn’t just deciding on a partner; she’s figuring out her worldview.”
Another criticism of the series is how unlikeable and selfish Katniss is. In a vacuum, that would be a valid point. But Katniss’ life, and the lives of everyone she loves, rests on her ability to survive. She doesn’t make cold, calculating choices because that’s just who she is or her nature. She’s been made into this person by her circumstances. The destruction via the Games of whatever mental health she had left only makes her need to care for herself even more of a priority as the series progresses. She doesn’t think about others, not because she doesn’t care, but because she simply doesn’t have the mental or emotional energy.
Tough love: Haymitch
I can’t believe I missed this one before, but Haymitch is absolutely a father figure for Katniss. It’s less clear in the movies, and he’s not be the ideal father. He’s a gruff, rude alcoholic who is never silent on his distaste for Katniss’ personality or choices. But he is equally vocal when he approves or is proud of her behavior, and he gives her the support and guidance she needs as a teenager coming of age under immense pressure in such a terrible, broken world. He has a tough-love approach that I think works well for Katniss’ cold, hard-knock-life perspective.
(And where Haymitch fails as a fatherly stand-in, Cinna steps in with the more tender, caring side of masculinity.)
Conclusion
I have a lot more notes I intended to write about here. The awareness some Capitol characters (Caesar Flickerman, Snow, Cinna) have of the state of things in comparison to general Capitol obliviousness; or how Plutarch, Coin, Gale, and Beetee may be on the winning side but aren’t really good guys; or Coin and Snow’s titles as presidents — is that an old term that just carried over, or were they really elected? Did their positions begin as presidencies but become something else with time and political events? (Will the prequel clue us in??)
So many thoughts, so many questions. But this post is already too long. For anyone gracious or interested enough to still be reading, reward yourself with this gem, my favorite fanfiction of all time: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/6958902/4/Five-Places-Cinna-Came-From. The story has five possible backstories for Cinna, but the one I linked, the one I carry as headcanon, is chapter four. Let me know what you think.
12 Days of Christmas book tag – Emily Rachelle Writes
[…] from the Hunger Games series. A favorite of mine in high school (and featured in my first tattoo), I re-read the Hunger Games trilogy this year. While I still love Peeta in the movies too, critics aren’t wrong in saying he is so much […]