Today, at Blood Stained Ink, we continue our exploration on the nature of humanity, particularly as we see ourselves through the unique lens of films that look into the future. To date, the series includes the following posts:
And now, back to the list … Read the rest of this entry »
By nature, top ten lists are as personal as they are peculiar. One man’s “great read” is another man’s doorstop, and vice versa. Nevertheless, these often idiosyncratic lists are fun to compile. For in the assembling of the list, one has the chance to review much of what has shaped his or her thinking over the course of the past year; and in doing so, the chance to possibly shape the thinking of another. So here, once again, I offer you the very best of the books that I have read over the course of the past year. What about you? Have you read any great books this year? Anything that you think others should read? If so, feel free to comment below. Read the rest of this entry »
SPOILER ALERT: I’ve been told I need to add a spoiler alert to these sorts of posts. I’ve never really understood this practice, as I’ve always assumed that if I am reading something, I am going to learn something about the subject at hand. Nevertheless, if you thought you were going to read this post and learn nothing about The Hunger Games, you have now been warned that this is not likely to be the case. Tread carefully.
In this, my fourth and final post on The Hunger Games trilogy, I want to visit the concluding chapters of Mockingjay, the last book in Suzanne Collin’s best-selling trilogy. For it is here that the author does her finest work; and it is here that the fog of war lifts to reveal the true worldview that has always lurked around the murky edges of the novels’ central story. If you haven’t read any of my previous posts on the subject, I would recommend:
“The Hunger Games” Trilogy … (part 1)
“The Hunger Games” Trilogy … (part 2)
Thanksgiving, Indulgence, and “The Hunger Games” Trilogy … (part 3)
Now, assuming you have read the previous posts in this series, you know that The Hunger Games are a series of highly politicized novels in which the morally bankrupt people of the tyrannical government live out lives of hedonist luxury, lives that are built upon the unrelenting labor of the surrounding population. In the final novel, Mockingjay, the masses have risen in open rebellion and the forces of the Capital are under constant siege. Not surprisingly, a new government-in-exile has been formed; and this new government is at the forefront of the rebellion that is rapidly gaining momentum.
But then, late in the novel, when it seems that the rebels are about to win, everything goes horribly wrong. Primrose, the younger sister of the heroine, and by far, the most innocent of anyone in this trilogy, is killed while performing an act of mercy. What’s worse, it doesn’t appear that the Capital is behind the act. Instead, the government-in-exile has committed this atrocity in the hopes of falsely accusing the Capital and providing one last rallying cry for the rebel soldiers.
So here, at the climax of a 1000-page story, the rebels are on the verge of victory, but the newly formed government is no more just than the government that is being overthrown. And when faced with the opportunity to legally execute the overthrown President of the Capital, Katniss Everdeen, the heroine of the novel, opts instead to launch her arrow into the heart of the new President, thus choosing for assassination in the belief that no government will ever be just. In the days the follow, Katniss is tried and eventually exiled back to the fire bombed ruins of District 12. En route, she has this conversation with the new head of communications
The truth is, no one quite knows what to do with me now that the war’s over, although if another one should spring up, Plutarch’s sure they could find a role for me. Then Plutarch has a good laugh. It never seems to bother him when no one else appreciates his jokes.
“Are you preparing for another war, Plutarch?” I ask.
“Oh, not now. Now we’re in that sweet period where everyone agrees that our recent horrors should never be repeated,” he says. “But collective thinking is usually short-lived. We’re fickle, stupid beings with poor memories and a great gift for self-destruction.”
If The Hunger Games is to be praised for anything, it is commended for its remarkably consistent worldview. For whether they are in positions of power or in positions of subjugation, people are viewed as desperately flawed and prone to violence at the slightest provocation. Interestingly enough, the author, Suzanne Collins, even extends this flaw to her main character, Katniss. When she is given the opportunity to stand up against the violence that has been perpetrated upon the children of the greater population, Katniss opts to vote for naked vengeance that will be extracted by putting the children of the Capital through the same horrors that have plagued her and her friends. What is particularly interesting is the fact that Collins does not make any attempt to mask this desire for vengeance. There are no coy references to justice or “doing the right thing.” This is all about getting back at the one’s that have hurt you; and your satisfaction is worth the price that others have to pay.
Is there room for mercy is this world? Is there any room for redemption? No. There is not. The only lasting value that stands in the world of The Hunger Games is the ability to survive amidst a never-ending cycle of violence and retribution.
And so, at the conclusion of this series, I amend my original recommendation. If these books were to be read solely for the purpose of entertainment, I would advise against it, for there is nothing but loss, anger, and empty grabs for power. The worldview is so dark that I fear a non-critical mind might absorb some of the “lessons” of fatalistic nihilism. If, on the other hand, these novels are read with a critical eye, I believe they can be of immense value in terms of discussing the ethics of an increasingly hostile world that is caught in the very cycle portrayed throughout these books.
What do you think reader? Can you find value in books that offer nothing but a critique of society? Or must a good writer seek to provide a solution as well?
SPOILER ALERT: I’ve been told I need to add a spoiler alert to these sorts of posts. I’ve never really understood this practice, as I’ve always assumed that if I am reading something, I am going to learn something about the subject at hand. Nevertheless, if you thought you were going to read this post and learn nothing about The Hunger Games, you have now been warned that this is not likely to be the case. Tread carefully.
Two weeks ago, I received my copy of The Hunger Games trilogy. With all three books currently scaling the heights of the bestseller list and with the first of the films due to be released this spring, I was curious to know what all the fuss was about. Much to my surprise, these books have not only been page-turningly-good, they have also provided many unexpected critiques of a culture that is in desperate need of such criticism. If you would like to read the first two posts, I include them here for your reading pleasure.
The Hunger Games Trilogy … (part 1)
The Hunger Games Trilogy … (part 2)
Today, I’d like to talk about the culture of indulgence. While most of us are somewhat uncomfortable talking about this issue, there is no question that America is an indulgent nation, unparalleled in its ability to meet every whim and passing fancy of its population. From an annual expenditure of $166 billion spent on alcohol[1] to $41 billion spent on pets,[2] we have the economic capacity to pander to our desires in a way that no country has ever possessed. But how many of us consider the food we take in to be an extravagance? According to Forbes magazine, one of the five most expensive “addictions” faced by Americans is the addiction to food. Last week, we celebrated a national holiday by spending $875 million buying enough turkey to give everyone who was celebrating three pounds of meat. According to the Center for Disease Control,[3] 34.4% of adults older than twenty are technically overweight; while another 33.9% of the adult population is technically obese. So altogether, almost 70% of the adult American population is gorging on food, which in turn costs us $107 billion on treatment for heart disease, osteoarthritis, hypertension, gall bladder disease and cancer.[4]
Now consider this timely passage from Catching Fire, the second novel in The Hunger Games trilogy. The context is a feast that has been thrown in honor of the Games’ champion and the novel’s heroin, Katniss Everdeen.
Every table present new temptations, and even on my restricted one-taste-per-dish regimen, I begin filling up quickly. I pick up a small roasted bird, bite into it, and my tongue floods with orange sauce. Delicious. But I make Peeta eat the remainder because I want to keep tasting things, and the idea of throwing away food, as I see so many people doing so casually, is abhorrent to me. After about ten tables, I’m stuffed, and we’ve only sampled a small number of the dishes available. Just then, my prep team descends on us. They’re nearly incoherent between the alcohol they’ve consumed and their ecstasy at being at such a grand affair.
“Why aren’t you easting?” asks Octavia.
“I have been, but I can’t hold another bite,” I say. They all laugh as if that’s the silliest thing they’ve ever heard.
“No one lets that stop them!” says Flavius. They lead us over to a table that holds tiny stemmed wineglasses filled with clear liquid. “Drink this!”
Peeta picks one up to take a sip and they lose it.
“Not here!” shrieks, Octavia.
“You have to do it in there,” says Venia, pointing to doors that lead to the toilets. “Or you’ll get it all over the floor!”
“Peeta looks at the glass again and puts it together. “You mean this will make me puke?”
My prep team laughs hysterically. “Of course, so you can keep eating,” says Octavia. “I’ve been in there twice already. Everyone does it, or else how would you have any fun at the feast?”
I’m speechless, staring at the pretty little glasses and all they imply.[5]
At its core, The Hunger Games, Catching Fire and Mockingjay are all novels of political dissent; and as such, they have to paint a society that is worthy of rebelling against. If they fail at that task, then the actions of the heroin and her friends are ultimately meaningless, or worse yet, wicked. So what kind of society is it that Collins deems to be degraded and worthy of overthrow? A society that is so overly decadent that gluttony is casually overlooked by the wealthy and privileged. When you consider the fact that Collin’s intentionally set her novel in the ruins of North America, her critique could be more explicit or plain.
What do you think? Do you think that the indulgences of the rich are ample grounds for political revolution? What if their decadence come at the expense of those that scratch out meager lives in grinding, degrading poverty?
One last question … How do you think your answer might differ from the answer of someone living in abject poverty?
[5] Collins, Suzanne. Catching Fire (New York: Scholastic Press, 2009), 78-79.
SPOILER ALERT: I’ve been told I need to add a spoiler alert to these sorts of posts. I’ve never really understood this practice, as I’ve always assumed that if I am reading something, I am going to learn something about the subject at hand. Nevertheless, if you thought you were going to read this post and learn nothing about The Hunger Games, you have now been warned that this is not likely to be the case. Tread carefully.
Picking up from yesterdays post, “The Hunger Games” Trilogy … (part 1), I’d like to continue this discussion on The Hunger Games by asking a few more questions of the text. Let’s start with what does it mean to be human? In other words, does our status as human beings endow us with a certain dignity? Or are we like other animals? Do we have moral responsibilities? Or are we free to be whatever we choose from a moral perspective?
Once again, the answer to these questions surprised me. I would argue that Collins actually holds humanity in fairly high regard. While she is clearly concerned about our ability to descend into power-struggles in which we oppress our fellow man, she also paints this descent as being the descent of a few, not the descent of the masses. The vast majority of humanity continues to struggle for survival in relatively tight-knit communities that seems to genuinely care for one another. Now, is the “tight-knit”nature of the communities a genuine affection for one another, or is it a closeness brought on by the mutual need for survival. That remains to be seen.
Nevertheless, humanity is shown as having a moral center. Consider this conversation held by Peeta and Katniss, shortly before they enter the arena.
“Thinking about your family,” he asks.
“No,” I admit a bit guiltily. “All I can do is wonder aobut tomorrow. Which is pointless, of course.” In the light from below, I can see his face now, the awkward way he holds his bandaged hands. “I really am sorry about your hands.”
“It doesn’t matter, Katniss,” he says. “I’ve never been a contender in these Games anyway.”
“That’s no way to be thinking,” I say.
“Why not? It’s true. My best hope is to not disgrace myself and …” He hesitates.
“And what?” I say.
“I don’t know how to say it exactly. Only … I want to die as myself. Does that make any sense?” he asks. I shake my head. How could he die as anyone but himself? “I don’t want them to change me in there. Turn me into some kind of monster that I’m not.”
I bite my lip, feeling inferior. While I’ve been ruminating on the availability of trees, Peeta has been struggling with how to maintain his identity. His purity of self. “Do you mean you won’t kill anyone?”
As you can see, Peeta is troubled by concerns greater than his own survival. And while Katniss doesn’t necessarily understand this, you can tell from the author’s writing that she sees this as a deficiency in her heroin’s character. As the story progresses, this is confirmed several times as Katniss pauses to engage in incredibly humane acts even though such acts endanger her own well-being. Being human involves more than merely surviving against the odds. Being human is an active choice to live in a way that refuses to be dragged down by the immoral actions of a depraved society.
All of this naturally leads to the final set of two, inter-related questions. First, how do we know what is right and what is wrong? Second, what is history about? Where is it going?
As one would expect in a novel of this nature, moral questions abound. But was noticeably absent at every turn is a grounding for the moral choices that were made. While Collins unmistakably wants to discuss the nature of war and violence and their effects upon children, she doesn’t tether the discussion to any moral center or transcendent source of authority. Why is it wrong to oppress other people? Why is wrong to live a life of luxury that is built upon the backs of others? The renowned German philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche would argue that it isn’t wrong to live in this fashion. In fact, Nietzsche would suggest that the most moral choice one could make is to have the strength of will to take that which one desires from this world. But Collins doesn’t want to follow in Nietzsche’s footsteps. Instead, contrary to the foundational plotline of the story, she wants to posit a fuzzy, moral goodness that lies at the heart of all people. Yes, life is to be valued, but not because it is endowed with the image of its Creator. Instead, life is to be valued simply because people are good and have the “right” to live. In this sense, Collins is a direct descendent of Enlightenment thinking, and in the midst of a very dark and violent novel, she is still trying to cry out: “But we’re making progress!”
Concluding Thoughts:
In the end, people will want to know, “Is this novel worth reading?” Is it appropriate for young adults? As a Christian who is deeply committed to understanding and engaging the culture around us, as a Christian who believes that we need to train our children to ask probing questions of the culture, I would argue that The Hunger Games is an enjoyable read that can serve as an excellent resource for discussions centered on the grounding of morality, political resistance (both violent and non-violent), strength in women, and the nature of humanity. Highly recommended for ages 14 and up.
SPOILER ALERT: I’ve been told I need to add a spoiler alert to this post. I’ve never really understood this practice, as I’ve always assumed that if I am reading something, I am going to learn something about the subject at hand. Nevertheless, if you thought you were going to read this post and learn nothing about The Hunger Games, you have now been warned that this is not likely to be the case. Tread carefully.
Every work of art has a worldview. That is to say, every work of art – regardless of when it was composed, by whom it was composed, or even for what purpose it was composed – has a perspective, a way of seeing the “reality” that defines our everyday life. So when we look at a work of art, rather than passively taking it in, or judging it solely upon its ability to entertain us, one of the best things we can do is to try to analyze the perspective or worldview that underlies the work itself. For in understanding the worldview, we will gain a much greater appreciation for the work of art, and we will come to know whether it is great art on the basis of whether or not it succeeded in presenting the “reality” it sought to explain.
With that in mind, I want to start a new series that explores the worldview of the run-away best sellers known as The Hunger Games trilogy.[1] For the sake of those of you who have not yet read the books, but would like to know a little more about the phenomenon, I now offer this brief, spoiler-filled summary of the first book in the trilogy.
In the ruins of a place once known as North America lies the nation of Panem, a shining Capitol surrounded by twelve outlying districts. Long ago the districts waged war on the Capitol and were defeated. As part of the surrender terms, each district agreed to send one boy and one girl to appear in an annual televised event called, “The Hunger Games,” a fight to the death on live TV. Sixteen-year-old Katniss Everdeen, who lives alone with her mother and younger sister, regards it as a death sentence when she is forced to represent her district in the Games. The terrain, rules, and level of audience participation may change but one thing is constant: kill or be killed.[2]
Now, with that basic understanding of the plot, it’s time to pose some questions.[3] First, I want to ask the question: what is prime reality in The Hunger Games? In other words, if everything else were to be stripped away, what is of utmost importance to Katniss, Gale, Peeta and the others? Surprisingly enough, in a novel built upon such a violent and degrading premise, the answer must unquestionably be: life. And this is where many of the reviews I read have clearly missed the mark. Consider, for a moment, the premise of the games themselves. The hunger games are held as a means of reminding the population at large that the Capital has the capability to take their children and force them to fight to the death. This is never shown as any other than an abomination. Even when the citizens of the Capital are shown to be throwing elaborate parties and to be gambling on the outcome of the games, the reader is in on the joke. This is high satire meant to mock a society that is so shallow that its primary form of entertainment is derived from the deaths of children being slaughtered by other children.
Moreover, lest you think that all of the children descend into the madness, notice how only three children are killed by the heroes, Katniss and Peeta. The first victim, killed by Katniss, has sprung a trap and ensnared a young, innocent girl by the name of Rue. When Katniss runs into the scene, desperate to save Rue, she is surprised by another boy who spears Rue while still in the trap. Without thinking, Katniss fires an arrow through the boy’s throat and he dies quickly. So the heroine kills the first victim almost instinctively as she tries to save her young friend. The second victim to go down is accidentally killed by Peeta. He has been out gathering fruit to eat. Unfortunately, he is unwise to the ways of the woods, and he inadvertently picks poisonous berries. When another “tribute,” or player, happens upon their camp, she steals the fruit and ends up poisoning herself. Finally, near the climax of the story, wild animals overcome the main antagonist in the arena. As he is slowly dying, Katniss notches an arrow and lets it fly into his skull as an act of mercy. So in all three cases where the heroes kill, the circumstances that surround the killing are such that the actions of the heroes are highly defensible from a moral perspective.
So what is the author saying? Life matters. And to take the life of another is morally reprehensible act, particularly when that act is performed merely for the sake of sport or entertainment.
This brings us to our second major question. If life is the prime reality in the world of the Hunger Games, what is the nature of the world itself? Perhaps a better way to ask that question would be to say: what is the world like? What stories give it meaning? What problems exist that threaten the prime reality? What can be hoped for and what can possibly be achieved?
Interestingly enough, the major problem in the world of The Hunger Games is not the games themselves. The games are merely a tool utilized by the real source of the problem, which is the government. You see, at its core, The Hunger Games is actually a novel about the seeds of political unrest and social dissent. One group possesses all of the power, while the populations in the outlying 12 districts have no power. What’s more, the people in the outlying districts are forced to scratch out a meager existence while providing for the opulent life-styles of the rich. So in many ways, The Hunger Games actually serves as a populist critique of society. But which society? Remember, The Hunger Games is set in the near future, in a land called Panem; and Panem is built on the ruins of the North American continent. So clearly, the author sees our society as being one that is in grave danger, and it is out of the ashes of our ruin, she fears, that new tyrannies will spring up to enslave humanity. In that sense, it is not too far fetched to suggest that The Hunger Games has much in common with the Occupy Wall Street movement and a belief that the ninety-nine percent are being made to serve the one percent.
This review will be continued at:
The Hunger Games Trilogy … (part 2)
The Hunger Games Trilogy … (part 3)
[1] The Hunger Games trilogy includes: The Hunger Games, Catching Fire, and Mockingjay.
[2] This summary was taken directly from the book summary offered by amazon.com.
[3] To assist me in analyzing this book, I am going to pull upon a set of questions first developed by Dr. James Sire, a too-often, under-appreciated, Christian apologist and teacher.
Last night, I picked up The Hunger Games because several of my students have read it; and I was curious to know more about this book that is rapidly becoming a cultural touchstone. Somewhere about half way through it, a thought crossed my mind, and I decided to share it with you this morning. Take a look at this list of the best selling books from 2010.
Best Selling Books of 2010
While there are a number of different ways to look at this list, the thing that struck me last night is that I was reading a book intended for young adults. And when that hit me, it got me to thinking about the state of publishing since the advent of the Harry Potter phenomenon that began in 1997. If you look back on the New York Times Best Seller lists dating to that era, the only book oriented towards youth that made the list were the various books in the Potter series.
But now, in the year for which we have the most recent data, over 61% of the top 31 best selling books are written for, published and marketed to adolescents and young adults between the ages of 12 to 21. These books include: all three entries in The Hunger Games trilogy, all five books in the Twilight series, six books in the mythologically-based Percy Jackson series, five books in the Diary of a Wimpy Kid series and one stand alone novel.
The Pulitzer Prize-winning author, Maya Angelou, once said: “Any book that helps a child to form a habit of reading, to make reading one of his deep and continuing needs, is good for him.”
Last night, as I was working my way through The Hunger Games, I couldn’t help but think of Ms. Angelou’s statement; and I found myself wondering: what do you think? Do you think that any book that drives a child to read is a good thing?
As you know, I have a strong interest in studying youth, culture and theology. To that end, earlier this morning, I ordered several new monographs from Amazon.com. I am listing them below in the hopes that one or more of them might intrigue you. So why don’t you take a look at the list below and use the comment section to let me know which book you would like for me to discuss on this site. And hey, if you’d like, perhaps you can order your own copy and read along with me.
(For your convenience, I have hyperlinked each photo and title to amazon.com, where you can order a copy for yourself.)
Hidden Worldviews by Steve Wilkens. Why do we buy what we buy, vote the way we vote, eat what we eat and say what we say? Why do we have the friends we have, and work and play as we do? It’s our choice? Yes, but there are forces, often unseen, that shape every decision we make and every action we take. These hidden, life-shaping values and ideas are not promoted through organized religions or rival philosophies but fostered by cultural habits, lifestyles and the institutional structures of society.
The End of Sexual Identity by Jenell Paris. Sexual identity has become an idol in both the culture at large and in the Christian subculture. And yet concepts like “gay” or “straight” are relatively recent developments in human history. We let ourselves be defined by socially constructed notions of sexual identity and sexual orientation–even though these may not be the only or best ways to think about sexuality. The End of Sexual Identity moves beyond culture-war impasses to open up new space for conversations in diverse communities both inside and outside the church.
The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins. In the ruins of a place once known as North America lies the nation of Panem, a shining Capitol surrounded by twelve outlying districts. Long ago the districts waged war on the Capitol and were defeated. As part of the surrender terms, each district agreed to send one boy and one girl to appear in an annual televised event called, “The Hunger Games,” a fight to the death on live TV. Sixteen-year-old Katniss Everdeen, who lives alone with her mother and younger sister, regards it as a death sentence when she is forced to represent her district in the Games. The terrain, rules, and level of audience participation may change but one thing is constant: kill or be killed.
Alone Together by Sherry Turkle. In Alone Together, MIT technology and society professor Sherry Turkle explores the power of our new tools and toys to dramatically alter our social lives. It’s a nuanced exploration of what we are looking for—and sacrificing—in a world of electronic companions and social networking tools, and an argument that, despite the hand-waving of today’s self-described prophets of the future, it will be the next generation who will chart the path between isolation and connectivity.
The Dumbest Generation by Mark Bauerlein. Despite the information superhighway, the younger generation today is less informed, less literate, and more self-absorbed than any that has preceded it. But why? According to the author, the immediacy and intimacy of social-networking sites have focused young people’s Internet use on themselves and their friends. The material they’re studying in school seems boring because it isn’t happening right this second and isn’t about them. They’re using the Internet not as a learning tool but as a communications tool. And the language of Internet communication, with its peculiar spelling, grammar, and punctuation, actually encourages illiteracy by making it socially acceptable.
The Narcissism Espidemic by Jean Twenge. Twenge’s influential first book, Generation Me, spurred a national debate with its depiction of the challenges twenty- and thirty-somethings face in today’s world. Now, Dr. Twenge turns her focus to the pernicious spread of narcissism in today’s culture, which has repercussions for every age group and class. Dr. Twenge joins forces with W. Keith Campbell, Ph.D., a nationally recognized expert on narcissism, to explore this new plague in The Narcissism Epidemic, their eye-opening exposition of the alarming rise of narcissism and its catastrophic effects at every level of society.
P.S. Yesterday afternoon, I added another post entitled, “Sandusky, Penn State and ‘The Superman.’” For some reason, this post did not get emailed to everyone that has subscribed to this blog. So if you missed that discussion, you might want to go back and take a look. And if you haven’t subscribed to the blog yet, but you are liking what you see, why don’t you take a few moments to go to the home page and subscribe. It’s very easy.
