Tag Archives: annual-books-read

The things I read after Are You My Mother? were all three The Hunger Games books, by Suzanne Collins, in rapid succession.

I can’t remember the last time I read something super-hot and popular. But Kelly and I had seen the first movie and the arena/political concept was compelling. I dug the savaging of reality TV (competition porn, as M.K.Hobson calls it) and the 1984 overtones. And I found the Katniss/Peeta cynically-motivated romance kinda cool. It’s sort of got an “Aliens made them do It“, flavor, but I mean that in a good way.

Anyway, I hoovered up all three books one week not long ago.

The further I went, the less happy I was with the whole story. I’m not saying the writing fell off or that anything big changed, just that my reader satisfaction decreased as things got darker. Sure, what happens in the first book is awful, but somehow there’s enough snatching of victory from the jaws of defeat–enough balance–that I was okay with the dystopian future and I like me some high-fiber hurt/comfort content. But as the revolution unfolds and things get worse and worse (and I’m not saying this is unrealistic in a war story, mind, just depressing) I started to disengage. Ultimately, I felt Katniss took one body-blow too many. Too much hurt, with no comfort possible. Those of you who read to the end can probably guess which loss I mean.

I thought Collins did some decent SF worldbuilding. I didn’t much care for District 13, but their existence made the revolution a more believably fair fight. And I am all about pure true love, so I was Team Peeta all the way.

A question I’ve seen raised about Katniss is whether she is a kick-butt go-getter heroine and an inspiration to the youth or if the only real choice she makes, like many a girl protagonist, is about Which Boy?

To this: prior to the novel’s initial incident, Katniss transforms herself from a starving child to a person who’s feeding her family. She makes the big decision to save Prim. Then, yes, she’s swept up in a game that’s much much larger than her. Her choices become limited… but I don’t think one can argue she doesn’t play the damned game to the best of her ability.

In the following books, there’s a lot of believable freaking out and PTSD and mourning of things lost. It was a bummer to read, but, again, I thought pretty realistic. And even as she flips out, Katniss does things–when choices are available to her, she does make them. I’d say characterizing the trio of books as one big romantic angstfest with a passive main character is a tad unfair.

The Hunger Games trio has flaws, and certainly there are plenty of times when Katniss is swept up in the flood of war, paddling just to stay afloat. But whenever she has her feet on solid ground, I would argue, she tries to work out the move that will rebound to the best advantage to herself and her beloveds.

Actually, this is another wasreading post, if one were to be picky. But it’s true that the new Tana French novel, Broken Harbour, came out this week. I have been panting to read it, and blew through it in three days. It’s another Dublin Murder Squad book, and this time the point of view character is Michael “Scorcher” Kennedy.

Scorcher is a minor character in French’s previous book, Faithful Place, but it is in this book that we get to know him, rather than just seeing him through the eyes of his frenemy, Frank the Undercover guy. The connection between the two books, as usual, is pretty minor–enough to maybe make you curious about reading Faithful Place, not enough to make you feel as though you missed anything big. The point is that after not getting it right on his last big case, Scorcher’s got his first high-profile killing in awhile, and he’s taking a rookie with him as his partner.

Like most of French’s cops, Scorcher is far too emotionally involved in his case. Like most of her mysteries, the murder he’s investigating has a link to his past, and he hasn’t told anyone, and it’s ever so subtly fucking him up.

I love French for her prose, but I noticed it less in this book. I think I liked Frank’s voice better than Scorcher’s. It’s one of those things: Frank is more likable, even though Scorcher is demonstrably a better person. Nice kid, good kid… you know what I’m saying?

What pleased me most about this book was partway through I was absolutely convinced I knew where it was going, how the pieces fit. I thought I was going to see French repeat herself in a very fundamental way. And, to my delight, I was wrong. That is pretty rare for me as a seasoned mystery reader. I have been at the armchair whodunnit racket for so long that I usually know exactly what’s coming.

I followed up this book in pretty short order with Gillian Flynn’s Sharp Objects. That one didn’t surprise me, but it was horrifying on a level that kept me both interested and emotionally engaged. I’ll talk more about that, another time, but in the meantime I want to thank Kristine Smith for the recommendation.