Mockingjay, Suzanne Collins.
I finished the Hunger Games trilogy today, adding Books # 12, 13, and 14 to the Challenge. The first book is legitimately stunning, and won’t let you go until you get to the last page. It’s enough to propel you through the rest. The plot momentum, the stakes of the whole series, the graphic gore, the political message… it’s amazing throughout, but the first book is all of that, in concentrate.
The hype isn’t misplaced. Creating a page-turner is a feat. Creating one with a lesson is impressive. Creating both and aiming it toward young adults? Pretty genius.
I don’t know that I would have liked it when it was demographically appropriate for me. It’s dark. And I don’t know that the message of war, peace, power, politics, trust, and survival would have really meant as much without the perspective of having lived, but hey. They make you read Siddhartha sophomore year, and that doesn’t mean much ‘til you’re older either.
For depth, for a complex female protagonist — the hype might feel the same, but this series is no Twilight.
Breaking in the new couch like it’s my jerb.
(Finished Catching Fire, started #3..and I wouldn’t be here at all, but I’m waiting for my clicky book to recharge. I think I have to go batch edit my whole fiction tag and add a disclaimer. I like fiction IF there are force fields and puzzles and monster monkeys and fun clothes.)
I’m only on book #2, so I don’t know what ultimately befalls him, but it seems as though Peeta is here in Italy, making bread — at least according to the brand.
There can’t truly be any Team Peeta’s out there, can there? That cloying, apologetic, beta lump? Shudder.
First Twilight, now The Hunger Games — modern YA books and the cloud of phenomena they stir bear absolutely no resemblance to spinning the paperback carousel in the “Teen” section of the library in the Ye Olden Eighties.
I have read both of these books, probably more than once. Back in the day, All That Glitters weren’t no vampire.
The closest I remember to a clamor is trading Sweet Valley High titles or finding out there was another addition to the Kobie series.
Want to trip down YA memory lane? This collection of titles, descriptions, COVERS is remarkably good.
And so of course, where there’s a fuss, there’s me four years later. This is up next — as soon as I finish my Marco Pierre White memoir, and get over wanting to be called an “enfant terrible.”