Wednesday, December 28, 2011

My Thoughts on the Hunger Games Series

(If you haven't read the Hunger Games trilogy, you should probably quit reading now, since a moderate amount of spoilers are to follow in this post.)

To begin, I'll apologize for the lack of coherence that this blog post may reflect. It’s been ages since I've blogged anything due to college, work, and bouts of slothfulness. Christmas Break is already halfway over for me and I really haven't done much at all – not that this is a bad thing, but I was hoping to do some writing last week. I had some other topics lined up, but none are very fresh in my mind, so I'll just be writing about my recent thoughts; specifically, my thoughts on the Hunger Games Trilogy.

My experience with The Hunger Games began when I got a Kindle Touch for Christmas (it’s great by the way – and I wasn't fully sold on it [and the concept of ereaders in general] when I ordered it). Having a device to read digital books on, but possessing no digital books of my own, I decided it would be an opportune time to finally read the Hunger Games Trilogy that everyone’s been talking about (there’s a movie coming out after all so I knew I needed to have read the books before I saw the movies, or I’d risk be lambasted to do so by all of my friends and acquaintances).

Let me give you a breakdown of my mental-state throughout the series before I discuss some of my deeper thoughts. As I started the first book, I had to work fairly hard to get through the first chapter – it’s hard for a twenty-year-old male to be thoroughly captivated by an account of a teenage girl and a cat, especially on Christmas Eve. By chapter two though I was hooked, and ripped through the rest of book one without a second thought. From about two-thirds of the way through section one to the beginning of section three the book is simply enthralling. I was at the mercy of the book and felt my heart pounding hard for the entire duration of this passage. I found the last section of the book to be a bit on the disappointing side. It’s not bad by any stretch, but it pales in comparison to the section before it, and winds up being a bit predictable and stale. No doubt there are some great moments, but I feel that too many pages were wasted purely setting up the great moments and the grandeur of the previous section is partially spoiled by an absence of creativity. I was fine with the ending itself and while I won't praise it, I certainly won't penalize the book for it (although the rest of the series is penalized by it – more on that later).This book winds up being just short of a masterpiece (you could probably count the number of books I’ve called masterpiece on one hand so this is still a great compliment from me). I’d probably give Collins’ writing an 8 (recognizing the target audience) and her ideas a 9. For a sort of reference with other young adult/teen books let me say that I’d give the Harry Potter series a cumulative average of an 8.5 writing and a 9 on ideas while the cumulative average of the Twilight series has a writing score of 3 and an idea score of 5. So, all in all, I greatly enjoyed the first book and had high hopes for the rest of the series (although I already began to question whether such excellence could be maintained due to the nature of the first book and where the series seemed to be going).

Book two started off pretty slowly, but I remembered book one’s slow start which allowed me to maintain high spirits. In fact, most of section one is a snoozer with things finally heating up at the very end. The last two sections definitely improve, although they still can't recapture the magic of the first book. Really, in retrospect, the last two sections feel like a spliced together version of books one and three. This isn’t a great combination though considering one of book one’s main strengths was its freshness and creativity, something that clearly cannot be preserved if it is closely repeated. All in all, book two is solid, primarily marred by a slow first section and the hindsight for knowing what book three holds in store. I'd give it an 8 again in writing but only a 7 in ideas.

Book three is when we finally realize that Collins may have just hitched two books onto the first in order to get a heavy-handed ending that is rather predictable and safe, although perhaps not quite in the conventional sense. It’s kind of like going to an awards banquet with a fantastic opening dinner and ceremony, followed by hours of predictable speeches and obligatory messages that you have to sit through because you're locked in the room (maybe not literally locked, but locked nonetheless by social etiquette). The first section of the book once again is an entirely predictable and snoozable affair. What makes it worse though is that the book never really takes off, as it just goes through the motions of wrapping up what we knew was inevitable about fifty pages through book one. This doesn't have to necessarily be bad (in some sense it is required), but Collins’ execution is what makes it such a dull affair. Really the book is a mini-story with gobs of introspection set on repeat. Section two feels like it should have been the boring section one that has somewhat plagued all of the series’ entries; it's just stalling, waiting for section three to begin. While Collins doesn't make a Stephanie Meyer mistake and completely bag out of giving us the required (or at least greatly appreciated), climactic ending, she does a rather half-hearted job of it. It lacks any sort of creativity and just seems to mimic the dull repeating introspection we've already suffered through in this book and a large portion of book two. Katniss is tired throughout the whole book, seemingly reflecting Collins’ state and the soon to be state of the reader. I suppose one could give Collins credit for having written a consistent book in this regard. The last few chapters are drawn out and a bit sloppy. When we think the final climax is coming we get a confusing stall to a severely less dramatic climax that is about as shocking as finding presents under the tree on Christmas morning. Yeah, the presents weren't there the night before, but you knew they were coming. Anyway, the epilogue tries to wrap up the book properly, but after arguably sacrificing the entire book for her ending, Collins isn't willing to sacrifice her ending state for a proper epilogue; instead, we get what feels like a bit of staple fanficition. Overall the writing in this book comes in at about a 7 and the ideas drop to a pale 4. It’s a pretty sorry way to end a trilogy that began with such promise. It’s hard to give the series an overall rating as I feel the ending and narrative progression (a chain is only as strong as its weakest links) really hurt the series’ lasting effect. Hard pressed, I’ll give the writing an 8 but the ideas only a 6.5. Clearly a large factor in this letdown was a rushed book. If Collins had taken a little more time (or perhaps if the publishers has allowed her to) this could've been a suitable ending to the series.

Now to some more substantial (but still rather incoherent) thoughts.

The Ending of Book 1 and its Impact on the Rest of the Series:
As I said before, the ending of book 1 is a fine way to end the first book of a trilogy. In fact, with a few added pages, or perhaps even just paragraphs, it would be a serviceable ending to a standalone book (something that I think I would have preferred over what we got from the entire trilogy). The main problem is that the ending we are given at the end of the trilogy is far too similar to the ending we're given at the end of the first book. Essentially in both, Katniss returns home to spend the rest of her life with Peeta in a depressed state of mind and depressed environment. There a few noticeable differences as in the last ending it’s more of a freely-made choice to be with Peeta, Katniss is more scarred mentally and physically, and the environment is no longer under the harsh control of the Capitol. However, are these differences so great that they justify two additional books?
Taking into account the negative progression of the narrative, I feel that the differences aren't so great. First, the choice to be with Peeta still isn't exactly a completely free choice: Katniss is pretty messed up and Peeta is just kind of there while Gale has run off (he’s in no state to be anywhere else). Additionally, it wouldn't have taken too much to tweak book one just enough so Katniss is happier to be with Peeta. Secondly, it also wouldn't have taken much for Katniss to be more scarred in book one. Losing Prim is something different that would've been harder to add to book one’s ending, but it’s somewhat of an irrelevant factor as Prim’s death is barely touched on after it happens. Finally, in many ways, the environments balance out - taking into consideration what Collins gives us. While book one’s ending has Capitol control, Katniss gets a comfortable life in her new house and with the entire District still intact. Book three’s ending never really explores what the new government’s like; presumably it’s better, but for all we went through it leaves this point far too much alone. The District still seems rather depressed as it tries to rebuild and most of the people that seemed dead under the harsh control of the old government are in fact dead even in the new ending.
So in essence, the endings are rather similar. Perhaps if certain points such as the new government and Prim’s death were touched on more there’d be a more concrete difference between the two thus justifying the additional two books. Or even if a sort of disharmonious echo was drawn out between the two endings by Collins, it might have been easier to like or at least appreciate the trilogy's ending. What I've come to conclude is that an expanded book one ending would've been far more preferable to the rushed, minimalistic trilogy ending that Collins used. True, a story isn't just about the ending and is often more about the journey (a case in point being LOST), but as some of my next points address, the journey given by the final two books considerably drops off in quality from the first book, making me wonder why we even had them at all (corporate greed cannot be fully blamed as Collins adamantly states that the narrative was always intended to be in a trilogy format, something that is also clear in how she wrote the books).

Peeta and the Indecision of the Plot:
Here I feel that Collins never really could decide what kind of priority the Peeta and Peeta/Gale relationships to Katniss should have on the overall narrative. Originally it seems that the narrative of the Hunger Games is centered around Katniss’ survival. Obviously her relationship (not just romantically) with Peeta is an important part of her survival, but as the first book ends and as the second book progresses, it feels as if the narrative has shifted to Peeta’s relationship to Katniss. In fact, I think I very reasonable case could be made for Peeta being the main protagonist (or at least hero) of the Hunger Games and Katniss serving as a narrator for his narrative. This however breaks down as the third book ends leaving the reader (or at least me) very disoriented as to what he or she has just been reading (perhaps my next section has some bearing here). Is Peeta the hero of the series or just a sideplot and how important is the love triangle? Again, perhaps this could’ve been clarified and greatly improved if the third book had been handled better.

Katniss’ Internal State and Topic Range:
While Katniss serves as an interesting narrator, she seems wildly unreliable at times (while some authors like George R.R. Martin purposefully do this, I don’t know if Collins had this in mind) and certain sections of the books don’t come off clean and are a little clunky. I feel like an additional narrator or narrators (whether other characters or an unknown observer) could have enhanced the trilogy. I’m not saying they need to be given large sections of the book, but a few chapters here and there of some other narrator would've been helpful for some clarity and tone issues. Focusing on Katniss alone causes some confusion and greatly restricts the series from breaking some new, creative ground that would've added another dimension to the series. As is, we have a narrative that seems to want to be focused on Katniss, but doesn't quite work due to some of the other elements Collins has tried to weave into the series. Due to this, the range of the book is greatly limited which seems a waste given the potential waters that Collins has to tread in and seems to want to tread in. The effect of war on individuals is sufficiently explored via Katniss, but not as fully as it could be. Meanwhile, the effects of rebellion, tyranny, and public figures along with topics such as the power and role of government, ethics, and the power of the press are hinted at but never satisfactorily explored. I know these are supposed to be young adult books, but Collins clearly had a more comprehensive and complex narrative in mind, something she doesn't quite reach.

A Lack of New Creativity and Abandoning an Expanding Universe :
Perhaps the greatest bane hounding the series is the complete abandonment of creativity once book one comes to a close. Collins lays all of her groundwork in book one and expects it to carry the rest of the series. While this seems like a logical thing to do, most excellent narratives continue to add more and more into their mythos right up until the final act. A few new characters are introduced, but they comes across as flat and don't contribute a whole lot to the narrative. Most of the setting of the final two books follows very predictably from book one, keeping the final two books from having the level of excitement and wonder book one produced (book three is especially guilty of this). Collins signs off of world-making after book one, a cardinal sin in an expanding universe.

Sending a Message but Offering a Poor (if any) Response:
Perhaps the primary reason for this discard of creativity is Collins’ utter devotion to her message of the effects of war on (young) people. While this is a fine message to send and explore, Collins’ obsession to it limits the rest of the series. Any adventure elements are completely abandoned as we move into a single (somewhat one-dimensional) character study. As the series closes, the plot elements tightly constrict around this theme, greatly restricting the narrative. Any sort of plot choices are thrown out the window as Collins must craft her yarn around her message to ensure that it sticks in the mind of the reader. It does, but isn’t necessarily effective as it comes across as heavy handed and doesn’t quite resonate the way it should with readers. Also, Collins really doesn't offer any sort of advice to the reader. While not required, it would've been nice to have seen a bit more of a moral (or morals) drawn out and displayed towards the ending, especially since what we've been given has been excessively heavy-handed anyway.

Overall, the Hunger Games is an above average series (I focused on the negative in this post as I figure most people have already been told of all of its admirable attributes) that starts superbly, but roughly coasts to the end. The series could’ve been in the excellent or perhaps even legendary range if more time had been put into crafting a comprehensive and more focused final book, along with some refinements in the middle book to properly reflect the series’ expanded and yet clearer focus. What makes the Hunger Games so disappointing in my mind is the fact that this very good series could have and should have been an amazing one.

Saturday, March 12, 2011

Film Ideology: An Education

I realize it's been quite some time (over two months) since I've updated my blog so I've decided to post something I wrote about six months ago just to having something new up here. I am hoping to write a short series of posts on a few various topics relating to Christianity (including things such as the negative influences of Platonism on Christianity, "reasonable" hope, Christian conflict, animals in The Kingdom of God, and the economics of Christianity) over the next few months or so - I've been extremely busy this semester taking 18 credits of Spanish, Physics, and Philosophy which is why the posts won't be sooner. Anyway, I hope you enjoy some of my thoughts on the film An Education. (Note: If you haven't seen the movie there are spoilers in my post so go and watch it - it's an excellent film - before reading this post)

“The roots of education are bitter, but the fruit is sweet.” – Aristotle

In today’s world one can see, and in no short supply, conflicting views on not just what an education is worth, but also what an education is. Some call high school a proper education; others may scoff at this sentiment, going on to say that college is the truly adequate education. The arguments don’t end there however, with certain individuals declaring graduate school as the only worthwhile education and others completely rejecting the concept of institutionalized education all together, saying that one is not “educated” until he or she has begun to independently live and work among the general population. In the film An Education, this power struggle regarding the meaning of an education takes center stage, compelling viewers to examine and perhaps even reevaluate their view on the meaning of an education.

An Education is a 2009 BBC film following the development of a teenage girl, Jenny, in 1960’s suburban London, and how an older man, David, enters into and drastically alters her life. The movie contends that an education is more than any sort of institutional degree, arguing that it’s experiencing things first hand - making mistakes along the way that profoundly shape an individual’s life both positively and negatively. What the film suggests is that an education is in fact what many would call a worldview with an emphasis on experience shaping it. The film acknowledges that institutional schooling is important, but seems to argue that it is a means to opportunities in life rather than a direct path to developing a worldview. It is the opportunities in life, and an individual’s responses and experiences regarding these opportunities, that shape who people are as individuals.

An Education makes a strong argument for experience being the cornerstone upon which individuals build their worldviews. “’Action is character.’ I think it means that if we never did anything, we wouldn’t be anybody. And I never did anything until I met you.” In the film, Jenny, the protagonist, seems to routinely be caught between the ideals of her proper, traditional middle-class parents and David, an exciting, vibrant, thirty-year old. There is a stark contrast between Jenny’s parents’ dull, conservative lifestyle to whom playing the cello is a hobby, and apparently the only thing their daughter should do outside of school work, and David’s live-life-to-the-fullest-every-second-of-every-day-no-matter-what lifestyle. Due to her upbringing coupled with her recent experiences with David, Jenny completely misunderstands the meaning of “action is character.” Having lived a life of relative boredom with her monotonous parents and now experiencing all kinds of sophisticated things with David, Jenny uses this as a confirmation that her parents are in fact nobodies and that she is doing the right thing by continuing her relationship with David. Her whole string of thought is rather ironic in the context of where it occurs in the movie. Just previously to this scene, Jenny finds out that David is nothing more than a glorified confidence man and thief, seemingly doing whatever he can to make a buck - Jenny finds this out after watching David steal someone’s painting. David is able to justify his actions, to himself and Jenny, by saying, “We’re (referring to he and his friends) not clever like you so we have to be clever in other ways; because if we weren’t, there would be no fun.” Since Jenny is eventually taken in by his arguments, her worldview is forced to change in order to accommodate the meaning of “action is character.” Instead of taking it to mean (as she likely would have before she met David) “the type of actions one does reveals/builds his or her character” she now can understand it as “doing anything” is character in and of itself. There’s no denying the importance of experiencing things in individuals’ lives, and, as one can see with Jenny, these experiences do radically shape people’s lives and views.

No experience shapes a life more, and causes one to question the choices that he or she made, than that of a mistake. Mistakes are almost always recognized in hindsight rather than in the moment, partially due to individuals’ own pride and stubbornness and also due to an incorrect worldview. By observing Jenny’s father, Jack, this fact becomes perfectly clear. Throughout the film, Jack is seen as a rather stingy, uptight, slow-witted fellow. He can probably be best described as one of those people who acts as if nothing gets by them when in fact just about everything does. Jack pushes harder and harder throughout the film for Jenny to go to Oxford. It becomes clear that his reason isn’t for her to simply get an education and become a better person when he routinely puts money ahead of Jenny’s education and own interests. What viewers eventually find out is that Jack values financial security more than anything else. He only becomes aware of how foolish this philosophy is after Jenny drops out of school and finds out that David is a married man. He’s extremely upset with Jenny and her actions until she points out that silly school girls are always seduced by older men – their parents are the ones that shouldn’t be. Jack realizes that he’s made the mistake of allowing David to hurt Jenny’s life due to his mistaken belief that financial security is what matters in the world. “All my life I’ve been scared and I didn’t want you to be scared. That’s why I wanted you to go to Oxford.” Jack’s allowed his own vision of what he thinks the world should be like, Jenny marrying a rich husband, obscure how the world actually is - Jenny being tricked by an unscrupulous man. When at last he accepts this, Jack can finally take the correct view, encouraging Jenny to go to Oxford so she can learn and be happy. This, along with Jenny’s complete experience throughout the film (that there’s no easy way in life or as she says, “The life I want, there is no shortcut”), shows us that any education worth having comes with its share of trauma.

As much as one would like to say that an education is a good thing, after having many experiences and enduring suffering to get it, one realizes that everyone’s worldview is different and both positive and negative things stem from just about any worldview. David clearly has had his fair share of experiences and mistakes. These however haven’t seemed to give him a good education or positively affected his worldview. A line David says early on in the film, although said in a joking manner, probably best describes his worldview formation. “I study what I believe they call the university of life. I didn’t get a very good degree there.” We see throughout the film that David’s education has indeed failed him. Yet, even Jenny’s worldview at the end of the film isn’t without its own negative aspects. An Education was based on the memoirs of Lynn Barber, whom the character of Jenny is based off of. Here’s what Lynn had to say about her entire experience, “What did I get from Simon [The David character in the movie]? An education - the thing my parents always wanted me to have. I learned a lot in my two years with Simon. … My experience with Simon entirely cured my craving for sophistication. By the time I got to Oxford, I wanted nothing more than to meet kind, decent, straightforward boys my own age, no matter if they were gauche or virgins. … But there were other lessons Simon taught me that I regret learning. I learned not to trust people; I learned not to believe what they say but to watch what they do; I learned to suspect that anyone and everyone is capable of "living a lie". I came to believe that other people - even when you think you know them well - are ultimately unknowable. Learning all this was a good basis for my subsequent career as an interviewer, but not, I think, for life. It made me too wary, too cautious, too ungiving. I was damaged by my education." The film shows how wonderful, and yet still terrible, an education can truly be. It also illustrates how profound of an impact individuals’ mistakes can have on others close to them. When it comes to developing worldviews, it would appear that many people have some sort of stake in the process.

An important thing to remember is that a worldview is not a static thing; it’s dynamic, incorporating all of one’s mistakes and experiences. This in turn means that individuals’ worldviews can continually impact their lives in new ways, both positively and negatively. With so many variables and choices in a person’s life today, living a good, positive life may be seen as an extremely intimidating task. However, people can take comfort in the fact that everyone makes mistakes and that these mistakes can only make one stronger if one is willing to acknowledge and learn from them. Yes, getting an education and developing a good worldview is hard, but the end result is sweet.