The Hunger Games trilogy: more than the average young adult "brain candy"

This blog is a place for classic literature only. Austen, Keats, Gaskell, Dickens, and the like, are my favorite topics. Having finished my first semester of Mass Communications graduate courses, I decided to pick up something popular and easy to read, putting down War and Peace just for a little while (shame on me, I know...I don't know when I'll ever finish that novel). I decided to read The Hunger Games, Catching Fire, and Mockingjay by Suzanne Collins. A friend of mine--a lover of classic literature who has not read the trilogy--called the series "brain candy," or something fun, something easy, something that doesn't make you think too hard, something that really doesn't matter as far as what books you've read. I had the same sentiment about the books before I began reading them.

I had already seen The Hunger Games movie. I enjoyed the movie, and I thought that the plot was inventive and clever, but to me, it was just another trendy movie with dazzling young stars and great special effects. Admittedly, because of its unique plot, the movie did make me curious about the books. Before I gave the series too much credit, though, I remembered that The Hunger Games, Catching Fire, and Mockingjay are contemporary young adult books, which made me so smugly ask myself, how profound and deep could they be? Granted, I love the Harry Potter books, and as intense as The Deathly Hallows is, the darkness and the light balance out well, and one can read the books with a reinforced idea of what is right and wrong, rather than making one question and decide what's right and wrong, which conveys less profundity than the moral issues presented in great works like Anna Karenina. To me, a lover of literature, and admittedly, a literature snob, any novel dubbed as "young adult" automatically has been branded as "brain candy" and something that marketers will do their damnedest to water down and make cool so they can make a profit. However, Collins' Hunger Games trilogy made me seriously question my generalization of contemporary young adult novels.

The Hunger Games, Catching Fire, and Mockingjay all embody themes that are important for not just young people but for all people to delve into. The series brings the reader into a futuristic world that has been turned upside down by rampant social injustice, twisted politics, and an overall deficit of human compassion, empathy, and authenticity. The fact that the novels are futuristic is what gives them their surprising depth. When the horrors of the future are displayed so well, so clearly, one cannot help but wonder, "Could this happen to us?" The ridiculousness, the horror, and the shock of how some of the characters are might make the reader automatically dismiss the ideas presented by Collins as pertinent to our world, but on the other hand, the very worst characteristics of Collins' characters are disturbingly realistic. The haunting images, horrible circumstances, and absolute human evil in the series evoked the same sort of emotions and questions that Brave New World stirred within me. Collins does counter the dishonorable with the noble, much like Rowling in the Harry Potter series, so the story is not all bleak. However, countering the bad with the good takes incredible strength from her characters, who sometimes deviate from what is considered good or lose their lives because they have done what is good. The world of the series is a world of gray, not black and white, and Katniss Everdeen, the main character, must make sense of this world by searching deep within herself, her friends, and her family, and fighting for what she believes is right, which, in a world of gray, is complicated.

"Brain candy" may apply to some young adult books and of course, some adult books as well, but The Hunger Games, Catching Fire, and Mockingjay do not fit into this category. I recommend these books to both teens and adults alike. Reading these books can help readers of any age to rethink media ethics, war, politics, and overall, what we consider true entertainment.

Anton Chekhov: Analyzing Values in Objectivism

As I reminisced on my love of Russian literature, I decided to pick up my book of short stories by Anton Chekhov. I did not read any of his work in any of my literature courses during high school or undergrad, but then again, I didn’t read any Russian works for academic purposes. My love of Russian literature began when, on a whim, I bought Anna Karenina and read it over a summer. I admittedly bought Ward No. 6 and Other Stories shortly after I first read Tolstoy’s masterpiece a few years ago. I wish I would have picked up Chekhov’s works earlier because I enjoy his unique writing style. I recently found time to read and think on one short story, “The Cook’s Wedding.”

*Spoiler* Since this story is so short and I feel, cannot be appropriately analyzed without revealing the end, I suggest reading the story at the link above (or in a book, if you have it handy) before reading the rest of this post.

“The Cook’s Wedding,” appropriately titled, tells the story of how a cook for an upper class household came to be married in an obstinately un-didactic and purely objective manner, which is Chekhov’s trademark style. The cook, Pelageya, is introduced to a man by the house’s nurse and is coerced into marrying him, although she does not know him and repeatedly objects to being matched in this way. The man, a cabman who claims to make a well enough living, is more than willing to go on with the marriage. At the beginning of the story, it’s hard to imagine why, as the reader knows that he has just met Pelageya and the only way we may look into his character is through dialogue and by a description of his appearance: “a big, thick-set, red-haired peasant, with a beard, and a drop of perspiration on his nose.” But what helps the reader to grow a distinctive judgment and distrust of the man is the reaction of one of the story’s main characters, Grisha, the son of the cook’s employers and “a fat, solemn little person of seven.”

Grisha observes many of the scenes in the story, and from the beginning, he distrusts the cabman. Even the way the cabman was “crunching sugar” while drinking his tea “sent a shiver down Grisha’s back.” Of course, Grisha does not say anything to his mother or to the cook about how he does not like the cabman, although Chekhov reveals Grisha’s, and only Grisha’s, inner thoughts throughout the story concerning the upcoming wedding of the cook’s. His first thought about the cabman is, coming from a seven-year-old, quite cute, but coming as the only character whose thoughts are revealed in the story, powerful:

“‘The cook’s going to be married,’ he thought. ‘Strange--I don’t understand what people get married for. Mamma was married to papa, Cousin Verotchka to Pavel Andreyitch. But one might be married to papa and Pavel Andreyitch after all: they have gold watch-chains and nice suits, their boots are always polished; but to marry that dreadful cabman with a red nose and felt boots...Fi! And why is it nurse wants poor Pelageya to be married?’”

Through the whole of the story, the reader wonders this same question, “Why is this marriage being arranged, especially since the cook seems to be against it?” As the story progresses, the nurse and even the mistress of the house assure Pelageya that the cabman is a good match for her. The nurse assures Pelageya that she has been setting her standards too high, that she was a “shameless hussy” and “never tired of making eyes” at one of the mistress’ children’s tutors. The only person who objects to the marriage, besides Grisha, is Grisha’s papa, who asks his wife,

“‘What do you want to be getting them all married for? What business is it of yours? Let them get married of themselves if they want to.”

Grisha, who overhears all the pivotal moments in the story, heard the nurse persuading Pelageya about the cabman late into the night, and “the cook alternately sobbed and giggled.” The giggling indicates that Pelageya is eventually giving in to the matchmaking. At this statement, I thought that perhaps the match was all right. Maybe Grisha just couldn’t comprehend it all and perhaps his papa was unfeeling. When Pelageya was still refusing to marry the cabman, her mistress reminds her that if she marries, she will not let Pelageya live outside of the house and the cabman may not live at the house. I had to read this bit of information again, as first, I really wondered if all mistresses were like this, and secondly, how could she be so persuasive in such an unconventional, joyless marriage?

The wedding takes place in the kitchen, and Pelageya seems giddy at wearing a new dress and finally approaching her “big day,” but she cries as the informal and quick ceremony is commencing. Grisha, of course, overhears the crying and wonders why his parents are not taking her away from all this. After the wedding, a small celebration takes place, and the next morning, the cabman speaks to the mistress, “glancing sternly at Pelageya,”

“‘Will you look after her, madam? Be a father and a mother to her. And you, too, Aksinya Stepanovna [nurse], do not forsake her, see that everything is as it should be...without any nonsense...And also, madam, if you would kindly advance me five roubles of her wages. I have got to buy a new horse-collar.’”

All is revealed.

As per usual, no one sees the injustice of what has happened besides Grisha, who “longed passionately, almost to tears, to comfort this victim.” Instead, he reverts to a solution that speaks volumes of his childhood innocence: he finds the best-looking apple in the house’s storeroom, sneaks into the kitchen, puts it in Pelageya’s hand, and then runs away.

How extraordinary that so much is revealed about social hierarchy, gender oppression, and the truth found in innocence in a single, somewhat brief event written mostly through dialogue and superficial observation. These characters may each be analyzed quite deeply just by their few actions and words in what is essentially just a fraction, a mere photograph, of the characters’ lives. Well, all of the characters except for Grisha, since his thoughts revealed in the story reveal that his character is not complex but simply embodies ideal traits: straightforwardness, untainted reasoning, and true compassion.

To describe the other characters, though, would be to use more words, more sentences, more analysis. Let’s take the poor cook, Pelageya. Pelageya seems to be a relatively young woman whose will is unabashedly manipulated by the mistress and the nurse. She is weak, although the reader can’t help but feel sympathy for her. One wonders what the nurse may have said to her when they had a late-night talk. And one wonders if anything became of her “making eyes” at the mistress’ child’s tutor. Was Pelageya shouldering guilt? Did she carry on an elicit relationship with the tutor or any other men, or did she simply flirt too much for the mistress’ liking?

And speaking of the mistress, I believe that she is the sole manipulator of them all. Even though the nurse does much of the talking to Pelageya, the mistress seemed to orchestrate the whole match. The reader can see that she’s playing matchmaker by the protests of her husband and by the simple fact that she does nothing to comfort Pelageya when she is so obviously upset. The mistress even complains of the servants having a celebration after the wedding because the nurse smells like vodka and because simple kitchen chores are not done. The mistress seems the cruelest of all, even compared to the cabman, because she has absolutely no value for human beings “below her station.” The servants are all her dolls, and she is playing house.

We could take apart the cabman and the nurse as well. In truth, they were pawns of the mistress’. They made her plan come to life, whether it was to completely diminish the spirit of Pelageya or to simply play matchmaker for lives she deemed as not as important as her own. The cabman is selfish, brutish, and as Grisha rightly perceives from the beginning, devious. He says in the beginning of his story that his wages in his occupation will suffice for two, and yet, it is revealed at the end of the story that he instead will be taking Pelageya’s wages for himself and only himself, since after all, the newlyweds are not allowed to live together. He willingly participated in the match for a few roubles. Unlike what I’ve seen in Tolstoy, the virtues of the peasant are certainly not revered in this story. And of course, we have the nurse, who is of low moral character as well. One wonders what her motive was in taking part in the match? Was it to gain favor with her mistress? Was she bribed in some way?

Chekhov is ultimately showing the uneven distribution of power in the wealthy household. The mistress holds the power and allows the selfish and greedy to make gains while the poor, the weak, and those viewed as small (low in status or young, like Grisha) are granted no self-governance and no benefits. Grisha and Pelageya are the only ones who know the situation is wrong, and yet, neither of them are heard in their protests. Pelageya, of course, is ignored throughout the whole story. Grisha, being a child, is not expected to know anything and therefore is silenced before he may even speak.

Another extraordinary aspect of this story is that analysis is purely subjective, since the writing is objective and therefore reading it forces one to form one’s own interpretation of the situation. So what screams out to me in the story may not be so apparent to others. Some readers may find Pelageya completely at fault for her weakness and the mistress to be simply ignorant and indifferent towards the match of the cook and cabman. Maybe the mistress, still unfeeling, just doesn’t care what they do as long as they still work in her house? Perhaps the old nurse is the main player in the injustice simply because she has it out for the young cook? The story is a report from a “fly on the wall” and may be interpreted many ways.

Though Chekhov is best known as a playwright, his objective short-story writing style was quite revolutionary. Like Keats, Chekhov pursued the medical profession before he seriously focused on writing. He was noted to call medicine his "lawful wife" and writing his "mistress." Also like Keats, Chekhov lived a short life, though not quite as brief as Keats, and established himself as a prominent literary figure in a brief period of time. I encourage you to read more about him here.