While perusing the shelves of B&N looking for something to read, I stumbled onto a Hunger Games display piled high. I recognized the book from a few people who’d read it. According to them it’s an addictive, can’t put down sort of book about kids systematically slaying each other in state sponsored gladatorial combat. And after an 8hr marathon lecture, I figured an easy to read, guilty pleasure was just what the doctor ordered. That was Friday afternoon, & by Sunday, I’d devoured the entire trilogy.
To be honest, the first book is well worth the time as a pleasant distraction, though I’ve always been compelled by the siren song of post-apocalyptic fiction (& highly recommend The Road by C.McCarthy). However, this particular vision is marketed towards souls far less.. experienced than I. The heroine (unsatisflyingly dubbed “Katpiss”… ahem… Katniss) is full of dramatic, psychosocial monologues, transparently obvious to anyone who’s ever gotten to first base. Yes sweetheart, he likes you. Sigh… if only Collins had been given the green light to scribble in some real ultraviolence, sex & debauchery, then she’d have something! Regardless, it’s a book well worth powering thru on days where you’ve no illusions or intellectual pretensions.
Afterwards, if you’re still in the mood for something light– beach reading if I may– consume book two, “Catching Fire”. Like it’s predecessor, the plot’s predictable (though satisfyingly so). Heed my warning & tread no farther down Collin’s woven path. The third book of the trilogy, “Mockingbird” immediately takes a turn toward the incoherent. the flaws inherent in the makebelieve nation of Panem grow inexcusably out of control, & the magic that originally makes the characters delightful has been sucked dry.
& back I go to finger thru Moby Dick…