Of all the derivations of authoritarianism humanity has experimented with through the long, dark centuries of our development, surely none have sown as much grief and destruction, in the name of order and stability, as empire. It instills in its citizens a sense of cultural and personal superiority, an arrogant ethos which is then used to both justify and fuel its expansion. Such conquests are branded as peace through pacification, but in reality they are little more than expressions of dominance, demonstrations of might makes right prettied up by representative assemblies and presidential speeches. Promises of extending rights of empire to the peoples of newly conquered provinces quickly give way to prejudice, laying bare the ugliest truth,that empire is nothing more than systematic exploitation. Though The Hunger Games is, in the main, a powerful critique of the corrosive conflation of entertainment and destruction, this anti-imperialist drumbeat is a constant and effective throb throughout Ms. Collins' blockbuster series.
The Hunger Games, the trilogy's first and titular instalment, enshrouds us in a post-American, dystopian future savaged by war. The once proud United States is now but a memory, all its technology, its culture, its idealism, lost in the rubble of its great cities. In its place sprawls Panem, an assemblage of twelve specialized Districts organized around the Capital, a splashy city of fantastic technology and cultural excess that has been, for decades now, enriched by the tributes it has demanded and taken from its outlying colonies. Though it represents itself as a presidential republic, Panem is a sham democracy, a machine that exists only to exploit the resources of the Districts for its own gain. Hence, the Hunger Games.
Billed as a televised contest between Districts, the Hunger Games are an annual event in the Capital in which paired, adolescent conscripts from each District fight one another to the death for the entertainment of Panem's wealthiest citizens. Though fame and glory ostensibly flow to both the victor and his District, the main purpose of the Games is to remind the Districts of their abject servitude, to leave little doubt in the minds of the rebellious that the omnipotent Capital can and will ensure both the general order and its own primacy no matter the cost in lives and morality.
When Katniss Everdeen, a young woman from District 12, is forced to watch her younger sister chosen for the 74th Hunger Games, she does what few participants from her impoverished District have ever done. She volunteers for the Hunger Games, usurping her proscribed sister's place. Teamed up with an idealistic boy, Katniss, a hunter by inclination, stands little chance against the stronger, cleverer, and better-trained professionals opposing her. However, armed with a determination to see her family and the wilds of her District once more, she commits herself to the Games, not at all aware that she is a critical piece in a game far beyond her understanding.
In Catching Fire, the series' second entry, the Capital has special plans for the 75th annual Hunger Games. Rather than draw unseasoned contestants from the general population, the Three-quarter Quell will sample only past victors of the games. This all-star cast of 24, armed with both age and experience, must deliver the bloodiest Games yet. However, the Capital and its Gamekeepers have overlooked an obvious weakness in their plans. For they have assembled the 24 most clever and ruthless men and women their imperial system has produced. What's more, they have armed them and given them all the reason in the world to throw off the charade they have been forced to participate in. Will this band of victors succeed in overturning the Games and putting an end to the crime of the reapings, or will the Capital's strength again allow it to put out the fires of rebellion?
In Mockingjay, the final book of The Hunger Games, Panem is in chaos. District 13, thought to have been obliterated in the failed rebellion that inaugurated the Hunger Games, has emerged from its underground bunkers to strike back at the Capital. Through a policy of systematic recruitment, District 13 hopes to win the support of the other Districts, isolating the Capital ahead of a final confrontation between these two old foes. But if District 13 is to succeed in its plans, it will have to use propaganda to convince the downtrodden Districts that its sails have been filled by the winds of righteousness and good fortune. To accomplish this, it will need a symbol, a creature that simultaneously represents the Districts and the better future District 13 is promising them. Enter the fiery Mockingjay, a creature of the Capital's creation that has thrown off its slave chains and become something new and free.
Though The Hunger Games Trilogy has its fair share of problems, it is electrified by a sharp, insightful and damning critique of the extent to which21st century popular culture has unhealthily blended entertainment and violence into a toxic brew all-too-readily consumed by westerners. Drawing upon themes of Roman excess, Ms. Collins mixes in criticism of Reality TV and finishes with a splash of American existentialism. Her final product is a wonderfully biting concoction that takes aim at our media as much as at us, at our political leaders as much as at those who blithely follow them. The result is the natural evolution of the medium, the Final Solution for a culture seeking the ultimate amalgam of titillation and horror, amusement and devastation.
However, as much as this series is empowered by its core idea, the execution here leaves much to be desired. The standard raised so proudly in The Hunger Games is only half-heartedly taken up by Catching Fire, a book far too consumed by its retread plot and its mushy melodrama. Perhaps the first novel would have born the same warts, but it was animated by the uniqueness of the author's idea, a glamour which concealed its faults. The second instalment cannot capitalize on the same advantage, the same energy, a reality which causes it to suffer noticeably when compared with its progenitor. Mockingjay appears, at first glance, to succumb to similar handicaps, trading mushiness for corniness here, but Ms. Collins' decision to forsake the easy, predictable conclusion rescues the novel, blessing the series with a wonderfully messy denouement.
Much has and will be said about The Hunger Games Trilogy. Excited friends will badger you to read it while the media will bombard you with endless commercials for and critiques of its film adaptations. Not all of this is nonsense. The Hunger Games is smart, incisive and relentless. It rarely indulges in easy answers. In this, it is as worthy an entry point for young readers as it is a harsh introduction to a difficult future. However, the hype is also precisely that, excitement generated by non-readers discovering the glory of literature. More seasoned bibliophiles will nod in admiration and respect at Ms. Collins and her work, having enjoyed the journey; however, for them, this will never match up to those pieces of fantastic fiction that caused them to lose their literary virginity. The nostalgia for those works will inevitably trump the new.
If you are thinking about succumbing to the cultural pressure and reading this series, I recommend the first novel. It is packed with all of Ms. Collins' best work. Novels two and three simply do not match the power of the first. But at least you'll understand what the craze is about.
Fascinating, energetic, and grim, but troubled by its tendency for melodrama. (3/5 Stars)
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