Skip to main content

Books on Tuesday

 It's hard to overstate the brilliance of "The Hunger Games." Start with the title--which is sinister and sadistic and able to do its job with just three words. Then the concept. We send children to war. We also entertain ourselves by watching "reality TV." Is it really difficult to imagine that the two perversions might blend together at some point in the near future?


Collins's protagonist, Katniss, has a raw deal even before "the Games." She has lost her father, and in response, her mother has become a non-functioning alcoholic. To feed the family, Katniss must hunt for wild animals. (I find myself thinking of Matt Saracen in "Friday NIght Lights," though I think Matt came *before* Katniss.) Although Katniss tends to act in a heroic way, the smart choices don't always come quickly to her. We see her struggle to "behave in a political way"--we hear her thoughts, and we understand that she often has to repress the urge to wave her middle finger (even when the urge is very, very foolish).

The other gripping character here is Haymitch--Katniss's mentor, who clearly has a complicated past. Haymitch has a brain, but he seems to be near-suicidal. Katniss can never tell whether her mentor is hatching plots or simply acting on auto-pilot--sometimes, she concludes (reasonably) that he is just AWOL.

I think Manohla Dargis is right that this novel is not well-served by its film adaptation. I generally do not hear people saying, "J-Law in THE HUNGER GAMES--a classic of cinema!" It would be fun to try again with an actual child in the main role. Saorsie Ronan was so good in "Atonement." There must be another little Saorsie out there.
Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

How to Host a Baby

-You have assumed responsibility for a mewling, puking ball of life, a yellow-lab pup. He will spit his half-digested kibble all over your shoes, all over your hard-cover edition of Jennifer Haigh's novel  Faith . He will eat your tables, your chairs, your "I {Heart] Montessori" magnet, placed too low on the fridge. When you try to watch Bette Davis in  Hush Hush Sweet Charlotte , on your TV, your dog will bark through the murder-prologue, for no apparent reason. He will whimper through Lena Dunham's  Girls , such that you have to rewind several times to catch every nuance of Andrew Rannells's ad-libbing--and, still, you'll have a nagging suspicion you've missed something. Your dog will poop on the kitchen floor, in the hallway, between the tiny bars of his crate. He'll announce his wakefulness at 5 AM, 2 AM, or while you and another human are mid-coitus. All this, and you get outside, and it's: "Don't let him pee on my tulips!" When...
3 comments
Read more

Raymond Carver: "What's in Alaska?"

Outside, Mary held Jack's arm and walked with her head down. They moved slowly on the sidewalk. He listened to the scuffing sounds her shoes made. He heard the sharp and separate sound of a dog barking and above that a murmuring of very distant traffic.  She raised her head. "When we get home, Jack, I want to be fucked, talked to, diverted. Divert me, Jack. I need to be diverted tonight." She tightened her hold on his arm. He could feel the dampness in that shoe. He unlocked the door and flipped the light. "Come to bed," she said. "I'm coming," he said. He went to the kitchen and drank two glasses of water. He turned off the living-room light and felt his way along the wall into the bedroom. "Jack!" she yelled. "Jack!" "Jesus Christ, it's me!" he said. "I'm trying to get the light on." He found the lamp, and she sat up in bed. Her eyes were bright. He pulled the stem on the alarm and b...
1 comment
Read more

My Favorite Pop Song

  One thing I admire about Prince is his weirdly pretentious verses: Dream, if you can, a courtyard-- An ocean of violets in bloom. Also: Touch, if you will, my stomach. Feel how it trembles inside. No one else writes like this. Did people try to shoot down these choices? Did a producer say, "We'd like to rethink this one... Touch, if you will, my stomach...."  I can't help but wonder. But it's the chorus that makes this a classic. It's direct and universal--and it ends with that bizarre flourish, the allusion to "the crying doves." (Prince's song was number one in America for quite a while; it defeated Bruce Springsteen's "Dancing in the Dark.") How can you just leave me standing-- Alone in a world that's so cold? Maybe I'm just too demanding. Maybe I'm just like my father--too bold. Maybe you're just like my mother; She's never satisfied. Why do we scream at each other? This is what it sounds like when doves cr...
Post a Comment
Read more