Katniss Everdeen makes Bella from Stephenie Meyer’s Twilight books look like the hateful parody of womanhood that she really is. Even though, like Bella, the protagonist of Suzanne Collins’s Hunger Games series of young adult novels is torn between two dreamy young men who love her, she isn’t some passive, swooning wretch. When the stakes are high—as they almost always are in this series—the incredibly competent Everdeen doesn’t bother worrying about her romantic life; in fact, she seems almost annoyed at having to worry about something as troublesome as a boy.
If you have any literate friends, you’ve probably heard something about The Hunger Games over the last year. (The series was recommended to me by booksellers, librarians, friends, and even—after a Q&A session at The Stranger’s offices—Mayor McGinn; over the holiday vacation, I finally decided to read them in what was less an active choice and more giving in to peer pressure.) In case you’ve tuned your friends out, here’s a basic plot summary of the first book in the series, The Hunger Games: In a dystopic, distant future, North America is ruled by a corporation named Panem. Besides the wealthy, luxurious capitol city, the continent has been broken up into 12 impoverished districts that specialize in one industry each. Everdeen, a typically poor young girl from a mining town in District 12 (roughly in the Appalachians) is forced to take part in the Hunger Games, an annual Panem-sponsored competition in which a male and female teenager from each district are chosen to battle to the death. Because she stays true to herself and defies the rules of the Games, Everdeen becomes a symbol of an underground rebellion against the corporate overlords.
On its own, The Hunger Games is a noteworthy work of science fiction. It’s harder to not read the book, as Everdeen learns that her years of hunting trips—trading squirrels and other wild game to neighborhood craftsmen so her family can have food and shelter—have made her an ideal fighter. Collins knows how to tell a story; each chapter ends with a cliff-hanger that practically turns the page for you.
While it’s true that The Hunger Games borrows elements from a number of other sources—schmucks on the internet are quick to point out similarities to Koushun Takami’s excellent 1999 novel Battle Royale, while simultaneously ignoring that people made to battle for the amusement of a wealthy class has always been a theme in literature (“The Most Dangerous Game”) and real life (are you going to claim that Gladiator is a Battle Royale rip-off, too?)—Collins is a confident storyteller with more on her mind than simple genre riffs. It’s good, violent fun, but by making Everdeen a believable character, the story transcends its pulpy origins to become something a little more.
The other two books in the trilogy never manage to perfect the pop-fiction alchemy of The Hunger Games, but they’re satisfying as extensions of the story. The second volume, Catching Fire, runs out of gas as it drags Everdeen back to the arena for a reprise of the games, violating the you-fight-just-once-in-a-lifetime rules that Collins laid out in the first book in a highly unconvincing way. And when Collins widens the scope of the story to a continent-wide revolution against corporate oppressors in Mockingjay, the story loses some of its charm.
But these complaints can be levied against virtually any story told in this kind of an epic scale; The Hunger Games works as a story because Collins never loses the surety of her grip on Everdeen as a character. As a narrator, she is endearing and clearheaded; the reader is charmed by her youthful lack of understanding in the first book—she doesn’t yet know that she is capable, attractive, and intelligent. A weaker writer would render Everdeen as a tomboy who resents any and all glamour, but as stylists prepare her for the reality-show onslaught of the Hunger Games by putting her in feminine clothes and makeup, you can feel a certain kind of appreciation behind her initial reticence; like almost any woman, she has a complicated relationship with beauty standards.
Everdeen’s relationship with herself and the world’s relationship to her is key here. The books could be said to symbolize so many things: the shame of sending young people off to war just when they’re beginning to realize what the world has to offer, the hollowness of reality television and corporate sponsorship (although Collins smartly recognizes that a powerful image, even if it’s meaningless when staged for the cameras, can have real, meaningful effects on the world), the complications that come with freedom. But really what they’re about is the transition from childhood to womanhood, that moment when you realize that the world is looking at you in a totally different way, when you lose a certain amount of control over what your body says to half the population, and you careen head-on into the strange new expectations that everyone has of you. Because of that specificity, that personal story told in broad strokes, these are books that will be read and adored for decades to come; Stephenie Meyer’s immortal, glittering vampires certainly can’t make that claim. 
FWIW, from my 13 yr. old daughter, a huge HG fan: “That’s the best review about the Hunger Games I’ve ever read. He really gets Katniss.”
I agree with Paul Constant.
I agree with Paul Constant, which is weird. Definitely a well written page turner.
Somebody gave me this book and I’ve been hesitant to read it becuase I thought it might turn me into a teenage girl or something… Good to hear it’s actually a solid book.
Aw, Paul stumbled into the YA section and can’t find his way out! Won’t someone help him?
Don’t ruin your enthusiasm for the first book by reading the following two.
I couldn’t be done with the third book down fast enough.
I thought the third book helped put a finality to the series… not to mention it really dug into the mind of where Katnip was… especially at the end. It sort of gave a glimpse that winning isn’t always the fairytale it’s promised to be.
Thank you for finally doing a single book review. I don’t mind if it takes you dropping a name every time, just keep doing them. Your business-of-books focus is fine, don’t stop, but doing full size reviews of single books is something you do well, and I’d like to see more of it.
I agree that the first book is a breath of fresh air, in that it presents a competent, self-aware young woman as the hero, and a kick-ass one at that. However, the second two books are real disappointments… I think Collins gets into topics that she really can’t handle as a writer. But by all means read the first one.
I’ve been curious about this book. I’ll try to pick it up.
Well said. I loved these books even for their faults. Katniss is a character I wish I could have read as a young girl.
Glad you finally gave in to peer pressure. Does this mean you might read Harry Potter one day?
Might have to read these after all. Thanks, Paul!
The second book ruins the qualities of Katniss that you extol here. “Incredibly competent”? “Endearing and clearheaded”? She spends the entire second book sniveling about how unfair it is that her love life has two boys in it. Even when there’s a battle to the death going on around her.
I agree that the first book was the best, the next two added nothing to my concept of the world other than to unnecessarily complicate the whole thing.
I am occasionally squicked out when I find myself buying a YA book. but often the writing is quite good and not ‘dumbed down’ for teens.
And since I refuse to read another “sci fi” book about vampires or werewolves or some other FANTASY myth (I like my science fiction science-y or alternatitive history-y) these days I look lots of places.
I’m a high school teacher. The smart girls love HG;the dumb ones like Twilight. And the gay ones like Twilight, obviously. I’m not implying that gay young men are dumb but there are stereotypically hotter young men to fantasize about in Twilight.
I loved Katniss, too. Bella’s just “a snack” –satisfying in the short term, but really annoying when you realize you could have had a real dinner. You can see Katniss having an interesting, conflict-filled future, not so for Bella. Bella’s story is over after the last book.
I refused to read this series for ages too, put off by the huge hype. But when I was stuck in an airport, it suddenly seemed more attractive, and I totally fell in love with Katniss as a character. @13: As far as her sniveling over dealing with two boys while in the midst of fighting for her life–well, I can only assume you’re unfamiliar with the complex and multilayered mind of the teenage girl.
Enjoyed these, but the former two (9/10, 7/10) more than the third (4/10).
People who enjoyed these books, go and read Stephen King’s Bachman Books, “The Long Walk” and “The Running Man”, both strong entries in this general genre of dystopian battles royale (with cheese).
These were some of the best books I read in ’10. Unlike most people I liked the third book the best because I thought it drove home the idea of the pointlessness of violence.
I pointed out to the person who recommended this book to me that the plot sounded a lot like the Schwarzenegger classic The Running Man. I don’t think she knew what I meant.
“Here lies Sub Zero! Now, Plain Zero!”
Paul, if you really want to be a woman, would you bleed once a month, possibly endure a nine-month pregnancy or two, agonize through labor and delivery, raise one or more kid(s), acquire stretch marks, and go through menopause?
Just think: if men as well as women actually did all that, would there be abortion clinics on every street corner?
Would the evil right wingers FINALLY go away?
Oh my Diane@15, are you allowed to be that clear eyed about your young charges? That was the best comment I’ve read here in weeks.
The third book was the best. 1st book was the worst. There was so much more character development in the second two books than the first.
The last 40 pages of Mockingjay kicks ass. Hunger Games 1 was predictable, and I kept getting annoyed that Katniss didn’t realize Peeta really was in love with her, and wasn’t just faking it.