I'm haunted. Truly. And Mr Wonderful (who, incidentally, became something of a "book widower" this weekend) is probably particularly glad I've finished reading these.
Because I COULD NOT PUT THEM DOWN.
A little back story. Started reading about that Jennifer Lawrence actress being cast in a film version of some book called "The Hunger Games" slated to be released about a year from now. This casting tripped an inordinate amount of press (like, more than "The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo" when its movie adaptation was announced). More people signed on. I started seeing names like Stanley Tucci. Donald Sutherland. Woody Harrelson. Elizabeth Banks. Wes Bentley. Lenny Kravitz. Liam Hemsworth.
"What the heck is this gig even about?" was my prevailing thought. "And why is it getting so much tabloid attention????"
Ah, apparently it's a "young adult" novel that is "very popular."
In my mind, that puts these books in the company of "Twilight" and makes them, therefore, "particularly toxic."
BUT, I'm curious. Because I read somewhere that Suzanne Collins, author of "The Hunger Games" was thrilled with the casting of Jennifer Lawrence. And any time a novelist gets this excited about some relative newcomer having the chops to tackle their beloved main character: I get a liiiiiiiiiiiiittle curious.
Cue Amazon, at this point. Sent a free sample of "The Hunger Games" to the Kindle.
Became promptly hooked.
HOOKED.
Hooked, hooked, hooked.
(er, while giving myself the side-eye, thinking "Um, but this is a Young Adult Novel I'd Assumed Was In League With Twilight." Because that's what 12-20 year-olds like these days, right? Poorly written fluff about vampires and warewolves filled with clammy, undead make-out sessions between centuries-old, sparkly spooks and the high school-aged object of their undead affection? And junior high girls get all swoon-ee and stand-in-line-overnight-waiting-for-movie-tickets crazy and a couple of reluctant, relatively unknown actors get catapulted to global super-stardom?)
BUT, let's be ABSOLUTELY clear: Suzanne Collins' MASTERPIECE trilogy ought NEVER to be associated with Twilight in any way, shape, or form.
So there's the back story.
Then there's that small matter of my general reluctance to read anything that's so massively, commercially successful it makes an extreme minority of those who avoid it. Think Dan Brown. Jonathan Franzen. Harry Potter. Eat, Pray, Love. Books about hobbits. And yes, Dragon Tattoos. I have this sort of perverse aversion to those "must reads." And suddenly, it seems these Hunger Games books are EVERYWHERE, and there I am, curled up on the weekend, reading a book a day, wandering voraciously around the weekend vacation cabin with my kindle held aloft, praying to the 3G gods for just a SINGLE BAR OF COVERAGE so that I could download the next in the series.
Worse (or better, take your pick): I was actually thinking about the characters for the hours in between. When I wasn't reading, I was desperately hoping that Collins would get it right and deliver her characters into the happy ending I wanted. They DESERVED that much. Her characters are real enough, believable enough, loveable enough, and frustrating enough that you feared (since they, clearly, have a mind of their own outside of the confines of the page) that they might just screw up their own happy ending.
Really, these read like a single, multi-volume opus more than three standalone novels. Because, for instance, reading only "The Hunger Games" without following up with the other two would sort of be like eating the chocolate off of the outside of a peanut butter cup. Nice, tasty, melty. But not as satisfying as scarfing down the whole thing. Or tossing it in the blender with girl scout cookies and Butterfingers and ice cream and making your own blizzard. Like that.
I won't give the ending away. But I will say that about 10 pages from the end of the third book, I had braced for supreme disappointment, and would have been ready to heave the Kindle at the dog (or whomever) had she gone for the easy out. THANKFULLY, Collins is smart enough to know that she's written some of the most loveable, flawed, READABLE characters in contemporary literature, and to rob her readers of the ending we ALL want would have been -- truly -- as cruel as the Hunger Games themselves. But she wasn't above leaving us in suspense.
How about a synopsis?
In their entirety, the books are a sort of social commentary on war -- the way war creates monsters of men and heroes of children (er - that's actually sort of a poetic way to put it. Way to be, Heather).
They're set at some point in the future - a future in which America proper no longer exists, in which war has left the country ruled by a wealthy capitol city, and the rest of the land is divided into twelve isolated "districts." To remind these districts that they're under the sovereign fist of the capitol, each district must send two "tributes" to participate in a nationally televised, gladiator-style death match every year. The tributes are young - between the ages of 12 and 18. They're minimally trained. Only one may come out alive.
So, we follow the heroine, Katniss Everdeen (yeah, I know. Collins had fun with the names) as she voluntarily takes her little sister's place as her district's representative in the games. We're in the arena with her and 23 other reluctant killing machines as they form alliances and do their best to stay alive. She's under the watchful protection of her district's other tribute, a boy who's been hopelessly in love with our little heroine since they were kids.
That's the first book. The other two follow Katniss through the Games' aftermath as the country is plunged into another war.
Sure, there's the sort of familiar "underdogs rally against oppression and the cannibalism of rampant capitalism" less-is-more moral running throughout. There's the "war hurts everyone, especially our youth" message wound in there. There's the question of "is there a difference between doing a good thing for a bad reason or a bad thing for a good reason" dilemma that resurfaces plenty of times. We see the ills of wasteful consumerism, of unchecked greed and sloth and any other number of deadly sins. We have crooked politicians and saviors with murky motives and the stuff that good page-to-screen stories are made of.
AND, yes, there's the sweet little love triangle that knits most of it together.
I'm going to go out on a limb and say that these books should be standard reading material in high schools. There's enough blood and guts to hold a kid's attention. There's enough good, clean puppy love to hook the day dreamers, and, under that, about every social issue under the sun gets tackled in one of these three books. Family versus country. The value (or cost) of lies. The price of war. The moral quandaries of leadership. Lots of good stuff.
But, in the end, just REALLY, really, really, particularly, beautifully well-drawn characters - characters who would make excellent role models for our kids. Characters who seem so real, you're left rather hollow and lonely and desperate for more once you finish the books. Sort of like that empty feeling after the holidays, when the family has packed up and gone and the house feels a little too quiet and you miss having all of those people around. A little bit like that.
With a nice, happily-ever-after ending that Collins spent all three volumes nursing along the readers' desire for.
Perfectly written. Best books I've read in years.
And now that I've read them, Mr Wonderful can have me back.
(PS - I certainly hope this Moviefone article comes true and these movies WIPE THE FLIPPIN FLOOR with those Twilight wimps. Over and out.)
(PPS - Team Peeta.)
No comments:
Post a Comment