Poisoned Berries & the Benefits of Cliff-hangers
I’ll be the first to admit that The Hunger Games (THG) isn’t much of a ‘new’ read for most – if you’ve not read the books, you’ve probably seen the films. What can I say? I always manage to be late to the party, and it’s true here for both the books and the movies. Over the festive period of 2023, I stumbled across a marathon of THG on the gogglebox – now normally, I’d read books before watching any type of adaptation, but after about five minutes of watching, somewhere in the middle of Catching Fire, I got intrigued, and started from the beginning.
Yes, I binged watched. The entire thing. Twice.
Then I got to thinking (which is never a very good thing and usually results in me causing myself more work than necessary.) I knew I had the trilogy buried somewhere in my extremely disorganised bookshelves, so I went to find them. Four days and a whole room of semi-organised shelves later, I sat down and started the first book – and I have to say, I was pleasantly surprised.
There are elements of the book that add a depth that you simply don’t get by watching the movie first and it was those additional elements that kept me turning the pages. Katniss is thrown into a situation that she had deliberately tried to avoid, for both herself and her sister. This right here is the hook – in the movie, it’s honourable and brave – and it’s the same in the book, but add to that the explanation of how the drawing works and there’s a whole extra shock factor – Katniss’ has 20 entries into the draw for the games – because of the convoluted nature of the capitol and how it oppresses it’s people. Twenty. Accumulated over 4 years. Her sister has one, only because Katniss refused to allow her to increase that amount by using the Tesserae (an option to add your name into the draw for a meagre supply of food supplies) thereby limiting her chances of being chosen. So the fact that Prim’s name is called, and that Katniss volunteers is even more shocking because it illustrates, emphasises and reflects the hopelessness of the society in which she lives.
“There must have been some mistake. This can’t be happening. Prim was one slip of paper in thousands! Her chances of being chosen were so remote that I’d not even bothered to worry about her. Hadn’t I done everything? Taken the tesserae, refused to let her do the same? One slip. One slip in thousands. The odds had been entirely in hear favour. But it hadn’t mattered.”
Katniss already had to grow up too quickly – the care of her family becoming her responsibility when her mother suffered what can only be seen as a significant mental breakdown after the death of her husband. Everything she has ever done has been for Prim, and volunteering is no different – yet it is. The odds of her survival are not high, particularly when there are kids from other districts who are specifically trained to become tributes for the games. She knows that she is most likely going to die, and she handles it particularly well, considering the circumstances. I found her to be full of nervous energy, and a remarkable amount of anger – understandably so – but I also think that Katniss had spent so long looking after everyone else, that she’d lost her own identity, because of what she had to do and who she had to be in order to survive. Katniss has self-awareness, but low self-esteem. She’s described as sullen and hostile, which again I wasn’t surprised about, and it’s with Cinna (who I loved by the way, book and film both) who she finds the comfort to be herself.
But where Katniss shines the most is in the arena, because the Katniss in the arena is in survival mode, just like she’s been at home – except now it really is a matter of life or death. From that first moment where she ignores Haymitch’s advice and runs for the equipment shows her true nature – it’s not rebellion against authority, it’s simply who she is – she’s a fighter. She’s also skilled as a hunter, caring as an ally and vulnerable in her grief and ruminations about her emotions. That vulnerability, expected in any 16 year old girl, is what she cannot reconcile to herself, but it’s one of the most endearing traits she has. I like kick ass Katniss – the hunting, the running away from fireballs, the whole tracker-jacker scene and destroying the Career’s supply stash pyramid – it’s all very exciting and well-written. She is bad ass. But I love vulnerable Katniss: when she loves, it’s fierce.
“I’ve no idea where to go. The brief sense of home I had that one night with Rue has vanished. My feet wander this way and that until sunset. I’m not afraid, not even watchful. Which makes me an easy target. Except I’d kill anyone I met on sight. Without emotion or the slightest tremor in my hands. My hatred of the Capitol has not lessened my hatred of my competitors in the least. Especially the Careers. They, at least, can be made to pay for Rue’s death.”
But for all that, I feel like it sort of fell flat near the end… Letting Cato suffer during the ‘muttation’ attack (although it was extremely disconcerting that they shared features of the dead tributes – what on earth are the Capitol doing there? scary) felt out of place, and I preferred the way the film dealt with it, although it did serve to remind how the citizens viewed the games – prolonged suffering=more entertainment. I guess I just didn’t feel it was necessary. And the berries suicide scene was anti-climactic.
Then, Katniss simply slipped back into who she was before… and come the end of the final chapter (27 in my copy) we’re left with the remnants of a relationship, and some worries about the future. It kind of just, fizzled out…
So, I pretend that it ended in the previous chapter, and chapter 27 happens as a flashback/intro to Catching Fire, because this knife edge, this tension is how I think it should have ended. I’m not going to quote it all, but just these little sections really caught my eye. Plus I think ending on this kind of cliff-hanger is awesome.
“When I left the arena, when the trumpets played, I was supposed to be safe. From then on. For the rest of my life.”
There’s the hook.
Here’s the kicker.
“There are questions to be unravelled back home, in the peace and quiet of the woods, when no one is watching. Not here with every eye upon me. But I won’t have that luxury for who knows how long. And right now, the most dangerous part of the Hunger Games is about to begin.
boc-hord 