The Hunger Games impresses me for two reasons: it's a really good piece of dystopian fiction, and it's also a really good YA series. Up until now, that Venn Diagram has kind of looked like this:
The Hunger Games has been endlessly compared to Harry Potter and Twilight, which should surprise no one. Teenagers, love triangles, fantastical worlds - the parallels are there. The great thing that can be said of all three series is that they've revived the YA market and made reading seem fun again, which is never a bad thing. That said, it's worth investigating four things that Hunger Games does better than its peers.
1.) Savagery.
Here's my problem with most fantasy written for teens: no matter how bad a world gets, it rarely feels bad enough. Harry Potter's supposed to be an epic narrative about the most evil wizard that has ever lived, and even though characters die throughout the series, the gore level remains low. Most deaths are literally painless - characters extinguished in a flash of green light, or drifting through mystical veils into another dimension. Collins, on the other hand, doesn't seem shy about showing us just how fucked Panem has gotten. The Hunger Games themselves are a bold premise, as it's so hard to imagine a civilized society that would pit children against one another in a gladiatorial massacre, and the civil unrest by the end of the triology is pure sadism. J.K. Rowling never gave us hours of some kid screaming as he's slowly ripped apart by vicious mutts, nor did she trap anyone in a skin-melting light beam. If this is really a story about how horrible the world could be, I want to see the worst of it.
2.) Girl power.
This is a big one: we have a female protagonist, and she doesn't suck! At least, she doesn't suck in the traditional ways. The obvious comparison here is the swoony Bella Swan, whose damsel-in-distress persona and supposedly endearing clumsiness make me want to push her off that cliff myself. Katniss is cynical, strong, smart, and gritty - a much more palatable set of descriptors for a modern young woman, even if she lacks the demure sweetness of a typical heroine. Her one distressing flaw is that she is not particularly relatable. As readers, we're already at a disadvantage given that none of us live in a totalitarian regime that orders us to ritualistically murder our friends. For us to understand and sympathize with Katniss, she has to have other, universal 16-year-old emotions for us to tap into. Rage, fear, desperation, protectiveness - sure. But how about a goddamn crush? The sticking point of Katniss's character, and the thing that alienated me early in the first book, is that she professes no attraction to anyone we meet. Gale, the hunky hunter? Oh, he's like a brother to her. Peeta, her secret admirer and phony fiance? Well that's all just an act. My eyes got tired of rolling after she shrugged off the witty, smooth-talking Finnick, the supposed man-candy of Panem, despite his relentless flirtations. GIRL ARE YOU MADE OF STONE?
My guess is that Collins chose to steer clear of the mush so we wouldn't lose sight of the ruthless survivalist that Katniss embodies, but I felt that she could've gotten away with a more complex persona - yes, she is violent and callous, but every once in awhile we should be reminded that she's a teenage girl, who, like all teenage girls, gets a little flustered by hot dudes. The one benefit of Katniss's romantic apathy is that I truly had no clue as to who, if anyone, she would eventually choose by the trilogy's end. In fact, it probably would have been most true to character for Katniss to reject both suitors, but Collins couldn't have gotten away with dragging us through a three-book overture if some sort of resolution wasn't eventually on offer.
3.) Love triangle.
Stephanie Meyer, take note: this is the recipe.
-One female protagonist with courage, spunk, and intelligence
"Should she be helpless without a man?" That is the opposite of what she should be. "Should she throw herself off cliffs if he leaves her?" Not at all. "Should she spend the vast majority of her time moping, or tripping over things?" Only if never.
-One tall-dark-and-handsome type, sexy and stoic, shrouded in mystery. He is ravenously protective, but occasionally proves dangerous to his lady love
"But should he sometimes want to rip her throat apart?" Uh, no, certainly not. "Should he break into her room and stare at her while she sleeps?" Nope. "Should he use his demon teeth to shred her uterus and free the parasitic spawn with which he has impregnated her?" Jesus Christ! What are you ON?
-One starry-eyed, heart-on-his-sleeve type, hopelessly friendzoned despite everything he has done to keep her from harm and prove his devotion
"Should he fall in love with her infant daughter when it looks like he's not going to get into her pants after all?" Okay you need to leave now.
Mix well.
4.) Epilogue.
Unlike Stephanie Meyer and her inexplicable championing of sparkly vampires that want to bone and/or devour you, or J.K. Rowling's super lame 19-year flash-forward, Collins' wrap-up was satisfying, if a little too brief (we've slogged through three books with these people and you can't give us more than a half-page of closure?). With the horrors of war fresh on our minds, the cake-decorator with a heart of gold is the winner everyone needs. Peeta's victory is that of the classic underdog, busting his way out of the Games arena as well as the friend zone. Although Gale seemed the more likely candidate for most of the plot, it does seem implausible that Katniss would find true love or comfort with anyone besides another victor. Her bond with Peeta is forged at the lowest points in their lives, strengthens with each trial that they endure together, and solidifies post-war as they help one another overcome their PTSD and readjust to a normal life. The average teen has not contended with any of these scenarios, but of all the ways that teenagers fall in love, I get the sense that the once-unrequited version is the most relatable. Sorry, teenage girls: you're not going to end up with a sparkly vampire. But if you're lucky, you may in fact end up with your best friend.
So those are the things I think HG does well. But, as any lit professor will tell you, a story is not solely about the things an author chooses to tell you; often, it's just as interesting to look at what's missing. In this violent, R-rated world, one plot point seems conspicuously absent: sexytimes. I realize the book is about kids. I realize the book is FOR kids. But I'm going to go ahead and make the accusation: I think the lack of lust in Hunger Games is just another example of YA authors being afraid to talk about sex in a meaningful way.
Yes, I realize that some people think that writing about sex will encourage teen promiscuity. But I also think that making it into a taboo subject can make the prospect just as alluring. Plus, it's insulting to imply that a teenage reader can handle descriptions of someone's flesh melting off in battle, but some consensual lovemaking is over the top. I almost feel that Collins owes us the full range of animalistic behavior, if that is the world she intends to paint for us. And it's not like there isn't ample opportunity. Maybe Katniss and Peeta wouldn't have gotten it on in the arena, with the Capital's hidden camera crews popping out from behind every leaf, but surely one of those long, lonely nights on the victors' train would have led to something more than cuddling. If you have room to work a love triangle into a post-apocalyptic world, you can throw in some baser sexual instincts. Our protagonists are adult enough to endure the hardships of tyranny and revolution, to charge into battle and kill scores of people, to ricochet through an entire spectrum of human emotions and see things more terrible than most people ever will, fictionally or otherwise. It just doesn't seem plausible that the most they will do when they find themselves in bed together is to plant a few kisses on each other's foreheads. They were not conditioned to be innocent.
Plus, I'm really interested in how a sexual dynamic could have revealed more about Katniss and Peeta's feelings. Would it be the kind of sex you have after you both escape a fatal situation (post first-arena)? Would it be the kind you have when you feel sure you're about to die, and you want as much intimacy as possible before your final hour (pre-second arena)? Or would it be the kind you have when you're desperately trying to bring someone back to you, like when Peeta's brainwashing torture leaves him unable to remember anything that he and Katniss have been through?
Consider it for the next printing, Collins. Just consider it.
