The Hunger Games

    First off, sorry that my last posts were sort of cop-outs. Videos. Not that I don't love those videos. It seems like I didn't have a whole lot of thoughts last week. Scratch that. My thoughts were more outward, less internalized- if that makes sense. Basically I was living less in my own head than usual.
     Anyway, after reading Rick Riordan's "The Red Pyramid" last week- which I totally enjoyed (I love Rick Riordan- he's so funny and captures the pre-teen voice perfectly)- I read the final book in the Hunger Games Trilogy- Mockingjay.
     Don't worry, there won't be spoilers. Although by now I'm probably one of the last to read it. At least among those who were waiting for it to come out. That's what happens when you're put on a library waiting list.
     So I really liked it. The ending and everything. It didn't turn out quite like I thought it would but I was happy with the way Suzanne Collins did end it. There's something funny about those books though. Or rather, how I feel about those books. I can't quite explain it. I enjoy the books. I got teary-eyed during a few moments. And I am (and have always been, no matter what happened) on Team Peeta (unlike most).
     But are these books on the top of my favorites list? No. Why? I'm not sure. Since I've been pretty much immersed in the Hunger Games world this past weekend, I thought a lot about the books even when I wasn't reading. What I discovered is I don't feel that Katniss is a very relatable character. I just don't connect to her the way I do with other characters- say Bella, or Mia, or even Harry. There's something about her that just doesn't appeal to me.
     And then there's the whole world that Collins created. A world so icky and unfair and brutal that I would never want to go there. I've often dreamed of attending Hogwarts or the Gallagher Academy, visiting a vampire-infested Forks, or living in the modern world and being friends with characters created by Sophie Kinsella, Clive Cussler, or Meg Cabot. Not one teeny part of me would like to be a crazily-painted tattoed member of the Capitol, or one of the starved rabble from District 12.
     I think that's where I'm put off just a bit. I prefer fluff over tough.
     Which isn't entirely true. I like girls who can kick-butt, stories with battles and wars, and circumstances so extreme that it seems impossible to escape.
     But there's somthing kind of disturbing about all three books that put them lower on my 're-read' list. Maybe it's the scary thought that the books could be reality someday. But mostly, I think I like my worlds- imagined and real- to have some redeeming qualities. To have beauty. Even if fighting is going on, the grass is still green and the sun shines. Even if a girl is killing her enemies, she still feels love in her heart.
     Maybe people who read this will think I'm missing something from the books. Yes, the sun shone during the Hunger Games. Yes Katniss felt love. Sure, there were redeeming qualities to her and to some of the other characters. But I can tell you that although I really liked all three- there's something about them that leaves me feeling cold.
     That doesn't change the fact that I can't wait for the movie version to come out!