I wrote this a little while ago, but ended up with a few extra moments this morning to post it.
A year ago I refused to watch the Hunger Games or read them because I didn’t want to read about kids running around killing each other, nor did I feel the need for another depiction of life after the fall.
I didn’t read them. I argued against them. And then I grew. And then I caved. Relationships with people I love mattered more than my petty arguments; curiosity helped too.
And, quickly, I discovered more to the Hunger Games than the trite quotable, “May the odds be ever in your favor.”
The book is a dystopia, all about class systems, power, wealth distribution, and ultimately, injustice. Yes, you are watching teenagers run around killing each other, but the game that is for “the Capitol’s” entertainment, if you enter into Susan Collins’ point, is not for yours. The game grows distaste, frustration, anger toward the Capitol and its citizens who glory in the destruction of the oppressed.
Yes, the novel develops anger toward injustice. Not only the injustice of the game, but the injustice of a system which holds all but its most elite citizens in captivity by depriving them of even basic necessities unless they will provide entertainment. Deception and misuse of power are at the heart of the Capitol, presenting a complete picture of injustice.
The citizens of the Capitol are entertained at the expense of the “least of these,” watching children starve to death as they gorge themselves; watching them die of disease as they withhold medicine.
Collins doesn’t let the reader think, “This is normal.” Rather, she forms her story and its tone in such a way that only those defiant toward the Capitol are even sane and we find ourselves defiant as well, but in fact toward injustice itself.
The twist is, if I step back long enough, I find that I look disturbingly like a Capitol citizen living in a culture disturbingly like that of the Capitol. I live in an entertainment and consumption driven culture, and whether intentionally or not, this comes at the expense of those less fortunate than me (be it the poor on the streets of Cincinnati who I know not or the children in another country whose slavery I disregarded when I purchased whatever clothing I liked best). No one wants the Capitol to rule, but everyone wants to live there; and why not? No one wants to be hungry. Thousands of people die from starvation and treatable disease and I have never known need.
The way the Capitol behaves is sickening. But Collins pushes a bit further, saying, “if you’re going to hate injustice, take it to the real world and begin in your own heart.” In the words of singer/songwriter Derek Webb–we join the oppressors of those we choose to ignore.
I have incredible power in my freedom and wealth and Collins, in story, burns on my heart the mission of God to do justice, love mercy.
There are a bundle of other themes and messages to sort through, but this primary one leaves me challenged and I offer a resounding “yes” to anyone asking if their teen should read a powerful story that delivers a challenge to do justice. Don’t let this one pass you by without a read and some conversation. I’m glad I didn’t.
all of life matters 