The Hunger Games

The Hunger Games

By Suzanne Collins (384 pages)

Published by Scholastic Press

Bookish rating: 4.25

I don’t mean to toot my own bookish horn, but I could not have timed my review of The Hunger Games any better, what with the big-deal movie release and all.

Some time ago, one of Chris’s co-workers with an affinity for young adult literature, smart lady that she is, lent me the book. I hesitated reading it, aware of all the hoopla and “OMGing” going on about it. Frankly, I feared a repeat of Twilight.

And let me tell you, I can’t even hear the word twilight without rolling my eyes.

Finally, so Chris’s co-worker wouldn’t think I had gone and stolen the book, I started reading it. It moved along pretty well, but I wasn’t blown away—until our scrappy heroine Katniss entered the The Games. Dear reader, let’s just say that I might have snapped at Chris a time or two, when he interrupted me for the umpteenth time to read me another depressing news headline or show me yet another model of a barbeque online. Eventually, my wifely patience would crap out and I’d bark something like “she’s-on-fire-and-there-are-arrows-and-a-dozen-tributes-are-still-trying-to-kill-her—CAN YOU LET ME READ IN PEACE?!”

The premise, in case you dwell under a rock, is that in a futuristic world, 24 tributes are randomly picked by the government to fight to the death while the nation watches on TV. This is to remind folks that they are entirely dependent on the mercy and goodwill—or lack thereof—of the government.

It’s the ultimate in big government.

Anyhoo, The Hunger Games is not the greatest thing I have ever read, but it’s actually very, very good. Collins is a master at pacing and high-stakes plotting—you know, those things your writing instructor tells you but you ignore. To boot, the writing is very tight and strong. Words are not wasted, characters are clearly drawn, and Katniss, a teen girl, is a fantastic heroine. She narrates from the first person, which can make or break a novel (usually the latter, especially if there’s no humor), but it totally works. The novel’s tone is brisk, to-the-point, and no-nonsense—just like Katniss.

Collins also gives us a good deal of meat when it comes to implications of the role of government, the powerful and the powerless, the rich and the poor, love, and so on. As an anti-government (stay out of my body, stay out of my paycheck, let folks marry, free speech is sacred) socially liberal and fiscally conservative political anomaly, I predictably fall into the camp that views The Hunger Games as a reflection of excessive government power, especially when exerted for the people’s own good. The girl from the agricultural district most poignantly depicts this, as they must give their harvest to the government “to share” and thus live on the brink of starvation. Same thing happened in Russia, under Stalin, only it was largely German farmers who starved in this way because they were the competent farmers who actually could grow stuff. Really, you could make a zillion connections to justify your own point of view, wherever you land on the political spectrum.

My friend Lauren had a different take, finding similarities between The Games and the dynamics of pro-athletes and sports organizations and owners, and I think her view has a lot a merit. And it’s much more unique than mine.

In short, all the pieces of The Hunger Games work: plotting, pacing, point of view, character, theme. It makes for a highly entertaining, surprisingly non-crappy read. Recommended! (If, you know, you haven’t already read it.)