The Hunger Games, Book 03

It’s interesting reading any series a second time—and even more so when you invite someone else along for the ride. For my second read through The Hunger Games trilogy, I invited my kids to join me. At ages 11 and 12, they may have been a bit young for it, but they’re really not much younger than Rue or Prim, so I guess it’s somewhat justifiable.

[See my reviews for Book 1 and Book 2]

Honestly, having read the series before myself, I knew most of the pitfalls that awaited us, and I felt moderately prepared to face them with my kids. The language in these books isn’t too coarse, which is good. There’s no sex involved, though my kids were quick to point out the many “sus” scenes of kissing and romance.

Heavy on the Violence

The violence is where these books tip the scales towards adulthood, but again, it was something I was prepared for. Although my daughter loves sword-fighting and my son loves Minecraft battles, neither are prone to violence. They enjoy it occasionally in their play, but it’s not their go-to favorite activity. We do know a few kids from church and school who are naturally violent people, and I must say: it’s a recognizable trait, and those are not the kids to whom I’d want to feed The Hunger Games!

As a family, we’ve already read enough books that deal with fighting and death that this was no new territory for us. So it’s not really a question of “Is there violence?” but rather “How is the violence portrayed?” The difference between, say, wonton murder and battlefield violence is huge—and the difference between the hero/heroine being violent either by choice or by necessity even more so. These are issues of morality that matter to me, so I’m fine with about 98% of the Hunger Games as a series. That’s a percentage I can work with.

“But what about the 2%?” you might ask. It comes at the tail end of this book, the final in the series, and I had to stop mid-stream to have a real heart-to-heart conversation with my kids about it, because it’s such a poignant moment. [Spoiler Alert: if you care to know.]

The Moral Question of Revenge

The moment comes after the war’s over, Snow’s been detained, and Katniss has recovered from her severe burns. Coyne gathers the surviving Victors in a room and takes a vote: Should the new, free Panem force the children of the Capitol to play in one final, symbolic Hunger Game? The Victors cast their votes, and Katniss—contrary to her character throughout all the many chapters before, and contrary to the heroine we’ve grown to love with all our hearts—votes “Yes. For Prim.”

Ugh. I absolutely hated this scene (in both the book and the film)! I’ve stated it before and I’ll state it again: Suzanne Collins failed in her responsibility as an author, choosing the path of darkness over the path of light, making Katniss Everdeen and anti-heroine after all—especially since this is the calmest, most calculated decision she’s ever made. I’ll comment about how this is actually beneficial shortly, but first let me vent a little bit.

A quick comparison: despite all the black magic of the Harry Potter series, J.K. Rowling succeeded in this area where Collins failed. Yes, I understand the “flawed hero” ideal and the concept of “letting a story write itself,” but Collins can’t blame either of these literary loopholes for her own decrepit honesty. Collins killed Prim, not President Snow or Coyne. Collins voted to murder the Capitol’s children, not Katniss. This is the conclusion of her epic story, and she held the direction of its sway in her fingertips. She can’t blame her muse or “the story taking on a life of itself.” She typed these words, not some ethereal literature nymph: Suzanne Collins put her own darkened heart on display in this scene, and I hated ever word of it.

I mentioned above that it’s an issue of morality, whether the heroine is violent by choice or by necessity, and for 98% of the series, Katniss Everdeen, The Girl on Fire, was a victim, choosing to act only because she’s been forced to do so as a perpetual “Capital slave.” But the moment she experienced real freedom and suddenly held the power to choose—the moment she was free enough and well enough to make a coherent decision for herself about her tormentors—she chose revenge, bitter and hateful revenge. And not just capital-revenge against her tormentors, oh no, but psychological revenge against her tormentors by murdering their children. It’s no matter that “she subconsciously just wanted an opportunity to shoot Coyne” or that “those games with the Capitol children never actually took place.” The hearts of Katniss and Collins are on display in this moment—and their hearts are black and hateful…and definitely not the hearts of a heroine or author I want my kids to follow.

Learning from the Wicked

HOWEVER, it did provide the opportunity to ask my kids their thoughts on the scene and help guide their reactions to it. Yes, Katniss’ response was wicked, but it was genuine. I might have been shocked that a character could be so flawed, but that’s only because literature has trained me towards happy endings—and real life isn’t that way. Harry Potter and his best buds survive to marry their sweethearts and send their kids off to the same school, living happily ever after. Katniss Everdeen proves her freedom by having wicked thoughts, and while she too marries one of her two sweethearts (sus) and raises her children in a new and better world, I can’t imagine they live happily ever after.

I get these gut feelings about Collins and Katniss because they react with more realism than literature generally allows—realism, at least, in a universe where God’s been forgotten. What else should we expect from such characters who have no standard for morality, no Creator with Whom to relate, no God to Whom they’re accountable? “Vengeance is ours,” they’d say, and “Forgiveness be damned.” It’s the heart of the godless that’s on display, and I really shouldn’t have expected otherwise.

Putting the Books to Good Use

As a Christian reader and reviewer, I’ve certainly got my opinions. Good books don’t need to teach, but they do need to entertain, intrigue, and make you think deeply. The Hunger Games absolutely does that for me, so I’m willing to rank it high up there among my all-time favorite series—even for pre-teens, if they’re already used to this sort of thing. The giant caveat, however, is that this intrigue and deep thinking must be done with biblical discernment, lest they’re swayed from the Truth and tempted to join the godless heroine in her thirst for revenge.

That’s what parents, teachers, and mentors are for. If you’ve got a kid, niece, nephew, or student who’s recently enjoyed this series, ask them about these things. Probe their hearts. Discuss revenge. See what they’ve learned and how it makes them feel. Ask them about how the situation might have differed had God not been forgotten in Panem, in District 13, in District 12, or in the Everdeen household.

There’s plenty to learn from this fantastic series, but heck, I’ve written enough. If you’ve never read it before, I encourage you to do so. Click the links here or above and get yourself a copy. “And may the odds be ever in your favor.”

©2024 E.T.

Read More Dystopian and Post-Apocalyptic Novels:

• The Last New Yorkers by George Allen England (1911)
• Brave New World by Aldous Huxley (1932)
• Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury (1953)
• The Last Ship by William Brinkley (1988)
• Minority Report and Other Stories by Philip K. Dick (2004)
• The Road by Cormac McCarthy (2006)
• The Hunger Games (series) by Suzanne Collins (2008)
• Son of Heaven (series) by David Wingrove (2011)
• Contamination (series) by T.W. Piperbrook (2013)
• Yellowstone (series) by Bobby Akart (2018)
• The Giver by Lois Lowry, adapted by P. Craig Russell (2019)
• Fairy Godparents: Raising a Fairy Child by Indahari Setyo (2020)