The End, and Afterthoughts: The Hunger Games, by Suzanne Collins

Trigger Warnings: Death, Teenagers Dying, Dystopias, Sexism

I'm still new to the Trigger Warning system, so if I've missed anything out, please say.

Preamble:

I've written the first two thirds of the somewhat epic-lengthed Hunger Games sprawl (I'm hesitating at the term review) more or less blind, with little reference to few secondary sources (as say in my line work work), but that's probably going to change. There's a single-page interview with Collins at the end of The Hunger Games and I'm likely going to start seeking other commentaries out, so I suspect when I swing around to Catching Fire, I'll be linking all over the place.

Again, I want to emphacise I do this because it's what I do. I genuinely enjoyed The Hunger Games and I do recommend you seek it out.

Partly because of Christmas, I've been thinking about the books I throw yearly at the small children (some of them now teens) in my extended family. One of girls has succumbed to the scourge that is Twilight and I've starting thinking about books, especially books I'm planning to make the younger generation read, in terms of what I want to tell them. I don't just want them to uncritically reflect the world as is, I want the books to inspire. More than anything, I don't want them to help undo the problematic assumptions the we make instead of reenforcing them. Maybe I'm wanting to much, but I'm looking back at the books I read when I was younger, the books that taught me and made me who I am. I'll probably write more about them individually and perhaps even revisit them on the blog.*

But I just want to say that I'm going through that right now, so I'm probably holding books (especially given it being a Young Adult book) to a rather high standard at the moment. That said, I do believe "it's a children's book" a very poor excuse for plot holes or simplisitic world view, especially when we've created Young Adult, which is supposed to have maturity and complexity. It is certainly sold as that when it comes to more "adult" themes of raciness.

But anyway, onwards.

What happened next...

As before, I'm not all that great at summaries, so go read one on wikipedia if this is too confusing. Also, go read the book. This is going to involve all the spoilers (as if you don't know already).

Well, Katniss finds Peeta (with some difficulty) who is dying whilst pretending to be a bit of ground. His wound is infected and she nurses him. She pretends to be in love with him for the benefit of the audience and there is kissing. The audience show their approval through the means of hot soup delivered to them.

Peeta gets worse again. There is an announcement for a Feast, where there will be essential supplies. Katniss works out that for her and Peeta it will be essential medicine, but Peeta doesn't want to her got as it would be near suicidal. Haymitch sends her a vial of sleeping draught to knock out Peeta and she sneaks out.

Foxface gets her bag. Clover (girl from District 2) and Katniss fight, the former gloats about killing Rue and Thresh (boy from the same district as Rue) goes beserk and kills her. He also lets Katniss go. Thresh and Cato fight. Eventually Cato kills Thresh, but it takes them both a while.

Katniss runs with the bag for District 12 and it does indeed contain medicine to keep Peeta alive. They go gather food together, with Peeta recovering but still extremely weak. She hunts and he gathers berries. Foxface (one of the remaining contestants) steal some of the berries, eats them and dies. Peeta, it turns out, is not very good at recognising plants.

There's to be a final fight, Peeta, Katniss and Cato all return to where the games began. Cato is chased by wolves who have been genetically engineered from the remains of the tribute who have died so far. Cato (now in arrow-proof armour) puts Peeta in a headlock, but Katniss shoots his hand. Cato dies.

It is announced that there has been a mistake in the rules and that the two can't win. Katniss and Peeta have to face off. He disarms and begs her to kill him (because he loves her) and Katniss suggests that they both eat the poison berries simultaneously, so that no one wins.

This causes the rules to change again, and they are both declared winners.

They are separated, healed (Peeta ends up with a fake leg) and reunite for the televised interviews. They continue with the lovers schtick, as Haymitch advises Katniss that it's the only way they can get away with their little show of rebellion. Just before the get on the train back, the two finally manage to talk alone and Katniss learns that Peeta was never faking it. He is understandably hurt that she is and the book ends there.

Apologies, that was far too long and not particularly eloquent. But moving on.

The End, and Afterthoughts...

I've detailed a comparison of the setup of the Hunger Games and that of Battle Royale in my previous post and I do think most of that still holds. There is greater development of the other tributes, especially Cato and Thresh, but I never desperately desired their survival to the same extent. That Katniss is the protagonist and narrator does somewhat undermine the suspense of the Games. The prose is gripping enough that one sometimes forgets this, and I do think Collins managed to pull off real moments of tension, but generally it is more of the how with she survive? rather than the will she survive? sort.

I do think the greatest problem of the Hunger Games is an overemphasis on its themes and making them carry the story rather than having the themes supplement an internally consistent story set in clearly defined and thought out world. The strength of the themes does ring true enough at times to override logical problems, but this isn't always the case. There is a sense that Collins made a lot of decisions on the setting and the story based on what would thematically work rather than what would make sense.

On the way home, we swing by the Hob, the black mar­ket that operates in an abandoned warehouse that once held coal. When they came up with a more efficient system that transported the coal directly from the mines to the trains, the Hob gradually took over the space. (ch.1)**

The black market of District 12, for example, is a physical place. This is, for those who know anything about, say, Britain's black market during World War II, rather strange. A black market is a metaphorical market, it does not tend to manifest itself in a physical marketplace in which illegal vendors have actual stalls. Arguably, Collins is trying to tap into the imagery of the speakeasies of the Prohibition, but due to the very different dynamics of the circumstances, it maps on uncomfortably. The black markets trying to circumvent wartime rationing would be a more appropriate historical precedent to model District 12's black market on, but then one wouldn't have the physical coming together of the people in a sense of community - to contrast with the forced gathering of every sinlge resident in the brightly-bannered square.

Such instances seem numerous at times in the Hunger Games. I can't shake off the feeling that District 12 produces coal because Collins wanted Katniss to be on fire for the ceremonies (and thus feed into the themes of her being the spark in the later books). Cake icing, to take another example, is not at all similar to creating effective camouflage (my beloved provider of cakes who was also in the cadets assures me that there is no overlap in skill). I could almost hear the beleaguered voice of the GM saying "Yes, Peeta, you can roll Craft: Cake in place of Move Silently."***

Even the name of the games doesn't entirely fit the games themselves and it feels as though it was chosen for its thematic resonance with the ideas of hunger and food and bread throughout the text. I've ranted about how the games feel misnamed and I think that all still stands. One really doesn't name something after a byproduct of scenario, especially when it's not the hunger that people tune in to watch but the actual bloodshed. (And if you get down to it, Thirst will kill you before Hunger. We've taken to calling them the "elaborate death games" when talking about them.) I had relegated this point to pedantry previously, but now I see it very much as symptomatic of a lot of the problems within the text: a emphasis on the overarching themes at the expense of internal consistency.

I open my mouth and sing out Rue’s four-note run. I can feel them pause curiously at the sound of my voice, listening for more. I repeat the notes in the silence. First one mockingjay trills the tune back, then another. Then the whole world comes alive with the sound.
“Just like your father,” says Peeta. (ch. 24)

I feel quite ambivalent about having ragged on quite so much about Katniss' father being amazing in all ways and her mother being less so since finding out that Collins based a lot of that on her personal experiences, namely her own relationship with her father who was an Air Force officer.

But it does really frustrate me how much his presence can be felt throughout the book and how he overshadows other characters. He also supplants Madge in the symbolism of the mockingjay pin and who it reminds Katniss of. Even when dead, it is his notes in her mother's book that inspires Katniss. She is very much her father's daughter, right down to the voice that even the mockingjays admire and her superlative skills at hunting.

“He said, ‘See that little girl? I wanted to marry her mother, but she ran off with a coal miner,’” Peeta says.“What? You’re making that up!” I exclaim.“No, true story,” Peeta says. “And I said, ‘A coal miner? Why did she want a coal miner if she could’ve had you?’ And he said, ‘Because when he sings... even the birds stop to listen.’” (ch. 22)

Even Peeta's love for Katniss comes back to her father. There is a lot to be said of how he could have romantacised her from that introduction by his father and how that must have sparked love in the mind of an impressionable child.

(Incidentally, where Peeta revealled this, I had pencilled in the letters called it into the margin. Because I had an inkling it from his father talking of his shared past with Katniss' mother at the beginning of the book. After all, grown men never mention friends from their childhood unless they had a crush on them.)

“...She stood you up on a stool and had you sing it for us. And I swear, every bird outside the windows fell silent,” Peeta says.
“Oh, please,” I say, laughing.
“No, it happened. And right when your song ended, I knew — just like your mother — I was a goner,” Peeta says. (ch. 22)

The idea that a thwarted romance of the parents can be carried on by their offspring is not an uncommon one (often a side effect of Generation Xerox) but it is particularly interesting in this iteration of the trope that in the way Peeta tells it, it is not his father's love for Katniss' mother that was what first sparked his love for Katniss, but her father's voice that she inherited.

Furthermore, the sheer popularity of the Daddy's Girl trope is symtomatic of some very problematic aspects of female characters who are portrayed as strong and independent - that their strength and independence has to have come at the indulgence and approval of their father (because Lineage Comes From The Father). 

Within trope, the mother, on the other hand, is often dismissive or outright antagonistic, maintaining that their daughter should adhere to the standards of femininity. Scott Westerfeld's Leviathan features this prominently with the character of Deryn. Arya Stark of the Game of Thrones is very much a daddy's girl, right down to him acquiring her a fencing instructor. It's also commonly seen in film, rather memorably with Miss Potter warping the real Beatrix Potter's parents to fit this trope. Ever After is very much of this trope, though it does have a slight subversion in Danielle's bluff to Pierre Le Pieu about her father having taught her to use a sword.

I think the some of the problems I have with the Hunger Games are to do with coming to it with overly high expectations and what it isn't. It doesn't quite compare as well to Battle Royale, for example, in terms of sheer gut-wrenching pathos where every death is tangibly The sort of amorphous buzz around the book made me expect a book with strong sociopolitical commentary, but I'm not entirely convinced it is the book's strength (the later books try to develop this more and I'm not entirely convinced it is to the series' advantage, but that's getting ahead of myself). Jasper Fforde's Shades of Grey or The Last Dragonslayer are probably better constructed in that regard, to pick two stories of futuristic dystopias. Battle Royale is also a lot neater and packs a great deal more punch in its political dimension.

The Hunger Games, on the other hand, has a very distinct dynamic of rich, decadent city exploiting (and humiliating) impoverished but noble small towns. Some readings have attempted to see it as an allegory for the world as a whole with the Capitol standing for America and the exploited Districts being the rest of the world, but I'm not convinced this is entirely textual. What little there is described of District 12 within The Hunger Games is thoroughly American, with Collins even stating explicity which real world American states correspond to which Districts. There seems little reason to see it as an allegory for globalisation when the age old city versus small towns dynamic is so very overtly within the text. For all my fondness of the garish Capitol fashions with their overt decadence, it does hark uncomfortably back to what one could term modern metrosexuality, contrasting with the much more traditionally masculine men of District 12.

As previously pointed out, the bread and circuses allegory is where the book really falls down (and it's really very relevant because Panem is specifically named after the Latin phrase - not to mention the recurring theme of bread within the text). Perhaps if it were clearer why the placating and distracting of the Capitol is necessary to the political welbeing of the goverment, but it simply isn't. As the series progresses, the political incompetence of the Capitol becomes increasingly grating, but we'll get to that. Within The Hunger Games, the games simply do not work as a means of political distraction (a "circus") and though it may work as a means of humilation and reenforcement of subjugation, that is a completely different kettle of fish when it comes to political statements and can easily backfire (and does). But Capitol propaganda seems to desperately want the Games to be viewed as a celebration and a form of extreme Olympics rather than an annual humiliation, which also seems at odds with their central message.

Yes, they have to have a victor. Without a victor, the whole thing would blow up in the Gamemakers’ faces. They’d have failed the Capitol. Might possibly even be executed, slowly and painfully while the cameras broadcast it to every screen in the country. (ch. 26)

There are no rules in the arena, but cannibalism doesn't play well with the Capitol audience, so they tried to head it off. (ch. 10)

This all makes the Capitol's motivations and strategies rather opaque, from what the purpose of the Games to what the audience want out of it. Perhaps the book would be too dark if the psychology of the audience formed a cornerstone of the text, but as it is, their motivations seem often contradictory and poorly articulated. The book is less about calling awake the Capitol audience and shocking them from their complacence to revolt and more about how those who are already oppressed and fully cogniscent of the fact.

Clearer lines drawn between the attitudes of the individual districts, the Gamemakers, the Capitol audience and the Capitol goverment would benefit the the story and give a much clear idea of the different layers of the audience's gaze. All these views are often conflated in a somewhat frustrating manner. The opacity of the attitudes can be said to works to the advantage of the first person narration and add tension to Katniss' attempts to manipulate the different factions. However, especially towards the climax of the book where her manipulations pay off, her reasoning suffers from Holmesian logic, where each step of the logic chain makes only the most superficial sense and the conclusions reached are right through the power of protagonism rather than any internal sense.

The importance of a victor, for example, is unclear. Arguably the lack of a victor means they have no one to parade around in the consequent months and perhaps that is integral to their propaganda agenda. Equally, perhaps the lack of a victor would destroy their illusion of the games as a form of sport and the creation of a narrative around the victor is what prevents the audience from emotionally connecting to the dead tributes enough to object to the games. It is also possible that this can be viewed as a split second decision on the part of the gamemakers, a moment of panic in which they made a decision that isn't necessarily to their advantage.

But none of this is entirely elucidated and the lack of the insight into the internal workings of the Capitol does disadvantage the book. The Holmesian comparison serves rather well as here we have all the excitement and clarity of seeing his seemingly flawless logic, followed by the moment of realisation that it doesn't quite fit together. The wedding ring in A Study In Pink springs to mind as there are many other explainations behind a wedding ring that is clean on the inside (such as taking it off every day to do the washing up).

So why does Katniss' gambit work?

We barely have time to say good-bye to Cinna and Portia, although we’ll see them in a few months, when we tour the districts for a round of victory ceremonies. It’s the Capitol’s way of reminding people that the Hunger Games never really go away. We’ll be given a lot of useless plaques, and everyone will have to pretend they love us. (ch. 27)

Perhaps it really is just about sunk costs and snap decisions, but it just doesn't quite sit right. It can be argued that this really all boils down to maintaining the illusion for the Capitol of the games being great sporting occassions and that everyone loves them, but Katniss puts the emphasis on it somehow being a statement to the Districts rather than a show for the Capitol. It seems less a cleverly calculated move of oppression and more the Capitol simply being, well, evil.

Perhaps really, in the end, it's discomfort at the fact that Katniss and Peeta fundamentally win. To return to the dead horse of a Battle Royale comparison, the two survivors of the games are running for their lives. Shogo Kawada great act of rebellion and revenge is to ensure two survive the games and escape instead of one becoming the victor. It is such a small, pathetic act of subverting on the system that he devotes his life to (and in the end, dies to achieve). It struck a chord in me that Katniss' manipulation of the Capitol into there being two victors instead of one never quite managed.

As I slowly, thoroughly wash the makeup from my face and put my hair in its braid, I begin transforming back into myself. Katniss Everdeen. A girl who lives in the Seam. Hunts in the woods. Trades in the Hob. I stare in the mirror as I try to remember who I am and who I am not. By the time I join the others, the pressure of Peeta’s arm around my shoulders feels alien. (ch. 27)

That said, them being victors is what continues the tension between Katniss and the identity she projected in order to win the games.

Again, I feel a little guilty for hankering after what the book isn't instead of dwelling on what the book is. And I do think The Hunger Games is an excellent exploration of the ideas of perception and identity (something that unfortunately I do find a lot weaker and somewhat underdeveloped in subsequent books, but we'll get to that).

The construction of the self she has to present to the Capitol audience and how she has to pander to their expectations speaks very directly to female experience of the Male Gaze. Orenstein talks about it quite a bit in her book Cinderella Ate My Daughter, the problem of female sexuality being a thing that is performed rather than felt. It's really very interesting and I suspect that being in the back of my mind really coloured my reading of The Hunger Games. To me, the strength of the story lies in the way it is examining the say Katniss performs her identity and her sexuality for her survival.

“But, Katniss, what a ride for you. I think the real excitement for the audience was watching you fall for him. When did you realize you were in love with him?” asks Caesar. (ch. 27)

It is very much explicit in Caesar Flickerman's summary that whilst the audience is invested in Peeta's affection for her, the real excitement lay in observing her and the change in her emotions. Whilst it can't be said that Peeta doesn't perform at all or alter his behaviour for the audience (he does), he has loved her since he was five and there isn't the same pressure on him. Katniss repeatedly describes him as having a natural self-effacing charm and that it all largely comes effortlessly to him.

“What’s Peeta’s approach? Or am I not allowed to ask?” I say.
“Likable. He has a sort of self-deprecating humor naturally,” says Haymitch. (ch. 9)

Of course, this could be simply a byproduct of the limited perspective. After all, Peeta is certainly capable of being unreadable (ch. 6) at times and it would be ridiculous to argue that men within our society do not need to perform an identity (the peformance of masculinity is a fascinating, but somewhat different subject), but I do think the emphasis is firmly on Katniss. But of course, this isn't about the performance of femininity as much as it is about the performance of female sexuality. Gender is something that I feel deeply ambivalent about within the Hunger Games (see below).

At once, it's clear I cannot gush. We try me playing cocky, but I just don't have the arrogance. Apparently, I'm to "vulnerable" for ferocity. I'm not witty. Funny. Sexy. Or mysterious.
But the end of the session, I am no one at all. (p.143)

In the runup to the games, Katniss is asked to redefine herself into an archetype the audience recognises and Haymitch reprimands her for not fitting in properly. Of course, the problem with this is that Katniss is very much an archetypal tomboy, thought that does makes her inability to fit the Capitol audience's expectations rather ironic as she fits rather neatly into our expectations of a tomboy heroine.

“I’m awful. Haymitch called me a dead slug. No matter what we tried, I couldn’t do it. I just can’t be one of those people he wants me to be,” I say.
Cinna thinks about this a moment. “Why don’t you just be yourself?”
“Myself? That’s no good, either. Haymitch says I’m sullen and hostile,” I say.
“Well, you are . . . around Haymitch,” says Cinna with a grin. “I don’t find you so. The prep team adores you. You even won over the Gamemakers. And as for the citizens of the Capitol, well, they can’t stop talking about you. No one can help but admire your spirit.” (ch. 9)

The resolution of this perhaps overly simplistic, as Cinna assures her that her real self is good enough. We return to the advice of "be yourself", though there is the acknowledgement that the self is no simple, or at least one can be different things to different people and this doesn't constitute a betrayal of your own identity.

After dinner, we watch the replay in the sitting room. I seem frilly and shallow, twirling and giggling in my dress, although the others assure me I am charming. Peeta actually is charming and then utterly winning as the boy in love. And there I am, blushing and confused, made beautiful by Cinna’s hands, desirable by Peeta’s confession, tragic by circumstance, and by all accounts, unforgettable. (ch. 10)

But Cinna's advice to "be yourself" mantra isn't enough and it is Peeta and Cinna who create the Katniss Everdeen that the audience actually invests in. What should have been her defining act of self sacrifice for her sister is forgotten and instead, she is recast as the object of romantic adoration. It is, in the end, what saves her, her ability to play the role of love interest to Peeta. Her identity is created not by her being herself but through artifice and half truths.

This subtefuge and how it ultimately allows for their escape rather nicely mirrors the Theseus and Ariadne story, which I suspect was the inspiration for it, especially if we are to take Collins' claim that she was inspired by the myth of Thesus and the Labyrinth. There are indeed some very overt parallels in the situation, with the four male and female tributes (and the use of the term) being sent into the Labyrinth/Arena (though the numbers and frequency varies). The lottery system of selecting tribute and Theseus volunteering are both staples of the myth (though intriguingly, Theseus is motivated to volunteer so that he can kill the beast and Katniss is intent only on survival for the most of the book, the revolutionary rhetoric is given over to Gale), but of course less immediately recognisable is how Theseus pretends affection for the besotted Ariadne who reveals to him the secret of the Labyrinth. The broad arc of the pretense is still there, but it is rather more sympathetic (and Katniss certainly doesn't abandon Peeta on an island, though you can argue that her revealing to him that she doesn't actually love him on the way home broadly mirrors that).

"But we're not star-crossed lovers!" I say. [...]
"Who cares? It's all a big show. It's all how you're perceived." (p.164)

“No, when the time comes, I’m sure I’ll kill just like everybody else. I can’t go down without a fight. Only I keep wishing I could think of a way to . . . to show the Capitol they don’t own me. That I’m more than just a piece in their Games,” says Peeta.
“But you’re not,” I say. “None of us are. That’s how the Games work.”
“Okay, but within that framework, there’s still you, there’s still me,” he insists. “Don’t you see?” (ch. 10)

Peeta struggles with trying to carve out his own identity in the face of the games. In some ways, it is harder for him as his public persona of a boy in love is very close to his real self and as such, he has already bared his secrets and they do own him. That he plays not to win himself but to protect Katniss is arguably a subversion of the games, but he still plays.

The darkness of The Hunger Games is perhaps how readily they all end up playing and how the other candidates are swiftly dehumanised. In fact, no one attempts not to. Katniss, ever the pragmatist, begins playing very early on, wondering at Peeta's strategies and wondering if she would have to kill him.

I suppose a cannon goes off. A hovercraft appears and takes the dead boy. The sun dips below the horizon. Night falls. Up in the sky, I see the seal and know the anthem must have begun. A moment of darkness. They show the boy from District 3. They show the boy from District 10, who must have died this morning. Then the seal reappears. (ch. 17)

And yet the narrative never has Katniss confront this darkness head-on. Before Peeta, everyone she has had to directly kill Careers (Glimmer, Marvel, etc) who aren't overtly portrayed as sympathetic figures. Cato kills Thresh in the end and Katniss never has to wonder whether or not she could kill him. It seems almost convenient. Of course, Katniss still feels terrible for having killed and certainly the death of Cato isn't portrayed as the comeuppance of a villain, but it still sits uncomfortably in my mind.

Anyway, Gale and I agree that if we have to choose between dying of hunger and a bullet in the head, the bul­let would be much quicker. (ch. 1)

Hunger and rich descriptions of food (especially bread) feature prominently in the book. There is even a cookbook based on all the food that appears in the series. As said above the book and the games seem to be called such because of these themes rather than any intrinsic hunger-based attribute to the games, but that pedantry aside, the theme of hunger does work. It fundamentally ties the book together and it embodies the desperation of the Districts and the excess of the Capitol.

I'm not sure there's much to add about hunger though since politically the Capitol is rather inept and hunger is just that. The book is thematically rich but it offers little substance to its observations about oppression and poverty. Perhaps you don't need a clever political statement about the nature of oppression or hunger, but Collins simply dwells too much on the virtuous poor and the depraved rich (a theme that really only strengthens as the series goes on) and that mapping on so neatly onto modern American politics of the virtuous small towns and the sinful cities makes me rather uncomfortable. That the focal point of a lot of that criticism of the city is in within the figure of Effie Trinket with her pink wig and insincerity is equally problematic, especially given the fact that Cinna, Katniss' male stylist, is seemingly the sole sympathetic figure in the Capitol.

Which leads nicely into a (brief) discussion about gender within The Hunger Games...

Flavius [...] gives his orange corkscrew locks a shake and applies a fresh coat of purple lipstick to his mouth. (ch. 5)

It is somewhat hard to pin down masculinity and feminity within the text of the Hunger Games. There seem at first some very clear divisions within masculine and feminine characters, with Katniss being the only anomalous one through the tutelage of her father (going as far as resembling him, whereas her little sister Prim takes after her blond and beautiful mother) and the female butcher mentioned only very briefly towards the end of the book. Masculine and feminine traits are not explicitly identified or defined as such, and there seems to be little pressure on Katniss for her to behave in a more feminine way. Yet despite the seeming lack of cultural reinforcement, there does seem to be a clear division of characters who are feminine and those who are masculine. Characters are less a random collection of traditionally masculine or traditionally feminine traits and more exclusively one or the other. Katniss, for example, is very much a tomboy, finding it hard to be nurturing and unable to decipher her own emotions.

The men of the Capitol come across as feminine, with its extraordinary fashions including lipstick of various colours. Prim and Katniss' mother are both overtly feminine, described as beautiful, blond and capable healers (Prim is later revealed to also  be emotionally very mature in contrast to Katniss), both are also in need of being protected. And this simply goes on and on and as the cards shake out, masculine characters appear stronger and more admirable, with feminine characters significantly less so, appearing often as dependents. There are distinctly more male figures who help and inspire Katniss than female ones. Cinna, Haymitch and Katniss' own father serve as male mentor figures. Though Haymitch could hardly be deemed a saint, he comes through in the end for Katniss and the best that can be said for Effie is that she is punctual. The dearth of positive mother figures only seems to add to this.

The position of Capitol Privilege the book is trying to dissect seems oddly feminine and in some cases, simply female in the book. Furthermore due to the lack of overt cultural reinforcement, Collins is the one who comes across as gender essentialist.

That said, Katniss is still pretty awesome as a modern day Theseus.

--

* Also, if we're talking things for children (and especially girls): make them watch My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic. No, seriously.

** I've swapped over from using page numbers to chapter numbers because I've acquired an electronic edition (which also makes quoting significantly easier).

*** Though that said, Fourth Edition Dungeons and Dragons does actually work that way by design, so there you go.