“As I slowly, thoroughly wash the makeup from my face and put my hair in its braid, I begin transforming back into myself. Katniss Everdeen. A girl who lives in the Seam. Hunts in the woods. Trades in the Hob. I stare in the mirror as I try to remember who I am and who I am not.”It was hard for me not to notice the prevalence of “Hunger Games” fans around me (apparently, it’s a worldwide phenomenon or something), but I was pretty unfamiliar with the premise and wasn’t completely enthralled by the description of its writing as “for young adults.” However, I was urged to give the Suzanne Collins trilogy a try, and since you can make it through the books in a couple of days if necessary, I jumped right in. Adding to the (sort of) excitement was the fact that this would mark the first book I’ve read on a tablet of any kind.
My first impression was that the central theme mirrored a lot of aspects of human hunting for sport, as highlighted in Richard Bachman/Stephen Kings books “Running Man” and “The Long Walk,” as well as the Richard Connell short story “The Most Dangerous Game” (also called “Hounds of Zaroff”). There were even elements of “The Truman Show” and “1984,” with the constant surveillance and the “Big Brother” authority overhanging everything. Admittedly, these are more than worthy references and anchors on which to base your story.
Essentially, the plot envisions the remaking of the world (or just America?) after an environmental calamity, with a central Capitol controlling a dozen districts after an unsuccessful rebellion many years prior. As punishment for the rebellion, each district has to “reap” a boy and a girl to the “Hunger Games” every year. These “games” involve a survival competition, with the lone winner being the sole living child.
Our story dwells on Katniss, a young girl (although the initial description of her leads the reader to think she is a dude at first) who volunteers for the games to protect her sister, then unwittingly gets swept up in an alliance with Peeta, the boy from her district, and Haymitch, a former winner from her district who serves as her mentor. Katniss calls on the image of her sister, the not-so-subtly-named Prim; an unexpected ally, Rue; and her “friend,” Gale, a hunter-boyfriend type from back home who nicknames her “Catnip.”
Hilarity Heart-breaking, gut-wrenching violence ensues.
The short, clipped sentences are a dead giveaway for a less-sophisticated audience, but they also serve to draw you into the story unbelievably quickly. I thought the book also did a pretty good job of intermixing some occasional, subtle humor. Choosing to tell the tale via a first-person narrative serves to immerse you in Katniss’s experiences, which can make it easy to forget that she’s just a young teenager -- until the awkward confusion about feelings interjects. Also, she’s grown up “not trusting anything so clean and pretty,” which permeates her perspective at every stage.
All the Greek names evoke ancient Athens, which inevitably lead to a connection to the Colisseum, where gladiators were killed for general amusement and entertainment (but not before leading quite the carnal life, if the “Spartacus” series is to be believed). As well, there was a fairly brilliant “Romeo and Juliet”-ish plot twist at the very end that I liked.
Of course, there were a number of plot turns or coincidences that were a bit too obvious or predictable, as well as some questions that popped up: With a wall of fire bearing down on you, why wouldn’t you jump into the lake? Why didn’t Catnip make the easy kill on Cato when the opportunity was there -- the game would’ve been over!? How do the cameras see into the rock hideout near the end? Why are Gamemakers actively seeking to kill participants -- wouldn’t one think that would be frowned upon by the spectators?
As a reader, your thoughts often turn to whether you think the audience/citizenry would be pissed over certain developments, until you remember that they are not the constituency; the spectators have to accept whatever is served to and imposed upon them. Thus, a lot of the queries could be chalked up to “He who has the power makes the rules,” so no worries there.
Eventually, Katniss begins to realize that the Capitol is seeking to erase her experiences by scrubbing away the pain and eradicating the scars that had accumulated over a hard-earned life; in so doing, they sought to take away the essence of who Catnip is. The omnipresence of Big Brother/Capitol makes it imperative to project a second, more connectable personality, which leads to a double life that can occasionally cast the participants into confusion. Throw in some subplots involving star-crossed lovers, the pursuit of determining the authenticity of feelings, and the constant battle to find out who is getting played and who is doing the playing, and you get the sense of what drives the “Hunger Games.”
In an exchange with Haymitch, Katniss analyzed the idea that the only tool a powerless citizenry has to defy the Capitol -- even in some small way -- is to save a small part of who you are only for yourself.
“They want to know about you, Katniss.”
“But I don’t want them to! They’re already taking my future! They can’t have the things that mattered to me in the past!” I say.The central theme of questioning what is real and what isn’t carries the story nicely (although one part of the story was ruined by an over-anxious, well-meaning book critic), almost all the way to the finish. But unexpectedly, the tale ends with a clinical, abrupt ending, and for someone who believes each book -- even in a trilogy -- should stand on its own, I find that a bit lazy and off-putting.
Of course, that didn’t stop me from racing immediately to the next installment of the series ...
