For a lot of us, the early 2010s were defined by a gluttony of young adult adaptations. Most of them tended to skew towards the now mockable “dystopian” label, but I can’t say that I was totally immune to them. The idea of experiencing your youth in a world that feels on the edge of destruction is a premise that never goes out of style. I personally think while it seemed laughable during The Obama Administration, the near decade since has felt like one disaster after the next. The quest for survival has led younger generations to turn to social media and discuss their own insecurities. Long story short, I am unsure why “The Hunger Games” hasn’t been as renowned as the years have gone on.
Don’t get me wrong. There is an audience for Suzanne Collins’ story of Katniss Everdeen as she navigates Panem. Maybe I’m just not aware of it because of my age and general disconnect from the Y.A. community. Still, in a time where people are finding any reason to defend sillier works like “Twilight,” I wonder why “The Hunger Games” hasn’t withstood the test of time better. Culturally, it would make sense that a story where the government pits teens against each other for entertainment would appeal to the “us vs. them” mentality of modern America. It’s a hostile landscape and, unfortunately, several have lost their lives and safety over petty disagreements. The idea of young people becoming activists feels like a correlation that should make Katniss more of an omnipresent name.
This is all to say that I’m currently reading “The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes” and getting excited for the next film. I am not kidding when I say that I was a major fan of the main series. Reading through these pages, I recognize how perfectly Collins depicts Panem as a place of limited resources, where it’s downright militaristic and the heroes are the sharecroppers and farmers. Those who have learned to fend for themselves through agricultural means understand the struggles of life. The people in The Capitol are depicted as nihilistic because they’re bored with their wealth and are the villains. Sure, it seems a little too direct at times, but it does lead to a premise that I think was on the mark in the early 2010s and is even more so now. It may be a prequel to where we started, but the idea of TVs projecting innocent lives on death’s door is a morbid concept that reflects how media can numb us to the worst that humanity can offer.
With all of that said, I do like what Collins is saying in her 2020 book. The characters are just as engaging as ever. The only issue is that I struggle to find a connection that feels on par with the discovery of reading “The Hunger Games” in 2011. There was something immediate about Katniss. She was the type of protagonist who made sense in this environment and was enough of an outsider that you believed she had a giant mountain to climb by the end of “Mockingjay.” It was there in the phrases (“May the odds be ever in your favor”) and the overall concept of the series. It was a contrast of lavish and empty in ways that forced the reader to contemplate class hierarchy. Most of all, it transcended Y.A. tropes. There was a love story, but it was mostly sidelined at first for a greater enemy.
Even before the film came out, I was on board with what Collins was writing about. It was a thrilling book where the stakes progressed to a fantastic conclusion. It’s one of those twists that every writer hopes for. Because everyone believes that “The Hunger Games” is to end in the finality of one winner, the idea of Katniss finding a way around it was brilliant and set up the trilogy nicely. I should say that everything about the central events that make up The Hunger Games is also a creative landmine of ideas that I think benefit an imaginative reader. Simple ideas such as figuring out how to escape a tree full of yellowjacket-inspired bugs called trackerjackers become a whole chapter of suspense. Being able to hide in plain sight and move on despite the grief of a fallen tribute is also discussed. Collectively, these are heightened versions of experiences that everyone has faced in some form throughout their lives.
I am not suggesting that “The Hunger Games” is real by any means. I’m merely suggesting that Collins has subverted expectations enough by finding the human essence of what it means to survive in the modern world. Katniss is an average teenager with a love of archery who recognizes that she can only succeed by her own wits. As a result, love isn’t as important as hunting for dinner and acquiring bread. There’s the fear of a world programmed to hate her, and she must find every way to not give in. The ways that the book evades her becoming a bloodthirsty psychopath are ingenious, allowing her to never lose sympathy even in a compromising environment.
To shift things a little bit, I think that what ultimately works is that the biggest draw of the story is less cheap thrills and more a political allegory. Katniss’ biggest enemy is not in the arena. She’s not going to kill the foe by the final pages. Even as she’s faced with people who are told that they hate her, the reader becomes aware that it’s at worst manipulation and at best the lack of impulse control of desperate people. Prior to the arena, there were televised broadcasts meant to make her likable so that she could gain favor through endorsements. Again, the haves and have nots component of the story thrives on jealousy, where being hungry forces you to focus on other things besides disposable luxury. The reader sees The Capitol from the outside, and it looks even more ridiculous than a technicolor dreamcoat. It’s grotesque and over the top with purpose, painting an idea of what desire should be while realizing that underneath the glamor is nothing.
No, the enemy of Katniss’ story is Cornelius Snow. As I’m reading “The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes,” I find the choice to focus on Snow interesting because of our relationship with him by then. We are aware that he’s complacent about the larger problem. To have him start as a lowly tribute who suffers many obstacles is an interesting idea, though I can’t help but wonder if it lacks the same suspense because we know how things turn out for him. It’s like discovering who Darth Vader was prior to assimilation. It could be great character building, but what is the real fascination with seeing the birth of evil? I suppose with over 300 pages left the answer will come, but it has to be a good one.
In the case of “The Hunger Games,” it is intriguing to see how Snow provides a threat because he is less powerful as a person and more as a commodity. He’s risen to the power of the ultimate leader and controls how everything works. Katniss is too small to fight someone who can edit the footage together to make every single person in Panem look like the villain. There are ways that he controls the media and endorses hateful yes men who will back him up. Even the weaponry seems undeniable. It’s a premise that later books explore in greater detail, but for now, it establishes Snow as a great threat without having to be an eccentric type. If anything, the contrast of his droll personality to everyone’s luxury suggests disconnection even within his own system.
To be completely fair, the legacy of The Hunger Games (2012) in the wake of the film’s release has been tumultuous. Yes, I do believe that Jennifer Lawrence is giving an excellent performance as Katniss. Had she also not co-starred in the X-Men franchise, it might’ve been her calling card for a few years. I would even go so far as to say that The Hunger Games: Mockingjay – Part 1 (2015) is the best of the series, which I seem to be alone in thinking. Given that I bought a Mockingjay pin the month prior to the film’s release, it’s something I’ve proudly worn to every film release, and will hope to keep that tradition alive in two months.
But the film’s success and messaging have long been questioned. After all, Katniss was designed as the voice of the common man. It was the encouragement of the underclass to rise up and rebuild an unjust society. This in itself isn’t a problem, but having the marketing be so gladhanded by capitalism could be perceived as crass and missing the point. While I don’t think it ever reached the extent of something like “Twilight” or “Harry Potter” in this regard, I do think those wanting to poke holes in it being a PG-13 rated commentary on senseless violence and political corruption had an easy time. Do I agree with it? Not entirely. If anything, I’m disappointed there haven’t been many more teen-geared properties with this forward of messaging released in the decade since.
Yes, I accept that there are limitations to how well a film centered around teens murdering each other can be. With that said, I do think Collins’ original work had done a meticulous enough job that it bypassed the need to worry about the graphic behavior. It was always an emotional journey, sometimes even playing into agitprop narration for the sake of getting the reader to recognize other travesties in society. There’s an eagerness to Collins’ prose that I think works for its target audience and even I, who was 22 at the time, could buy into it. Maybe it was never going to be as fatalistic as Battle Royale (20000) or The Running Man (1987). That wasn’t the target. It wanted to send a message and not one that could be delivered universally with a graphic rotting corpse in the background. If anything, that would’ve taken away emotion from scenes as powerful as the one involving Rue.
Again, I haven’t finished “The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes.” I am enjoying it, but it’s making me more nostalgic for what’s come before. It is likely that I’ll watch the four films in preparation and remember how much fun the whole story is. My hope is that during this time I will find like-minded people who grew up loving them and are giddy about a new entry. Yes, most of the characters are new. None of them are as directly interesting as Katniss was to me, but that isn’t to say that the remainder of this book won’t pull some surprises that make this an essential text. There have been a few already, though I hesitate to discuss since it’s a newer book.
Maybe by November, we’ll have a cultural reassessment of this franchise. One can hope in a time where it feels like there’s constant political unrest that it inspires some sort of conversation. Part of me wonders if I’m just conflating what I got out of the book with what I hoped others would. Again, I’m in my Mid-30s, so I’m not hip to what Y.A. readers are obsessed with. Still, I’d love to know why I see people talking about it less than “Twilight” or “Harry Potter” in public spaces. Maybe it’s just that it’s a less pleasant story and features a more difficult discussion. Even then, Katniss is a figure that has come to mean a lot to me. She is a hero who fought for herself as well as others. I’m curious to see if Collins feels anyone else is worthy of picking up that mantle, or if this is just a shameless cash grab. I’ll probably have half of my answer by the end of the week.
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