Day Four: The Hanging Tree
Please forgive this post. Tomorrow we'll be back to our normal weirdness.
But tonight, I just got back from watching Mockingjay Part I in the theater. Naturally, this means I've already listened to The Hunger Games soundtrack twice and am considering re-reading the books.
Which got me thinking: why is The Hunger Games such a popular series? Judging by synopsis alone, it doesn't seem that relatable: dystopian, angrier version of Bella Swan goes into a sadistic, vaguely folksy version of Battle Royale, and wins by faking love. Then she goes back and does it again, only the fake love is sort of real now, maybe. Then war. Everybody dies (well, almost everybody--this isn't George R.R. Martin) but not the cat. The end.
It's violent, it's sad, it has very little joy or beauty or other redeeming qualities. Not the kind of thing I would usually read at all, let alone love with an ardor matched only by my love of hot chocolate, The Civil Wars, and Firefly.
But I do love it.
(Spoilers ahead: DO NOT READ if you haven't seen Mockingjay Part I and intend to!)
When Katniss saw the valley of bones, I was horrified. When the hospital was bombed, I cried. When that huge crowd of rebels went on a suicide mission to destroy the dam, I felt the urge to join in a rousing chorus of "Are you, are you, coming to the tree?" and bolt out of my theater seat and into a watery grave.
I've been thinking about it, and I think that we're all drawn to the idea of a bigger purpose, of fighting for a noble cause. We all want to be the kind of people who would lay down our lives for the ones we love, or the ideals we believe in. I think that shows up in the things we read, the things we watch, and the things we write.
And yes, there's an element of detachment, of a sick, voyeuristic, obligation-free kind of catharsis that comes in watching the battle between fictional injustice and fictional heroism, rather than engaging in actual heroism against actual injustice- but I choose to see it as a precursor, not a substitute. I choose to see it as a sign that what was ever good and noble, once, in the human spirit, is good and noble still.
We want to rise up. We want to join the fight.
Even after the credits roll.
But tonight, I just got back from watching Mockingjay Part I in the theater. Naturally, this means I've already listened to The Hunger Games soundtrack twice and am considering re-reading the books.
Which got me thinking: why is The Hunger Games such a popular series? Judging by synopsis alone, it doesn't seem that relatable: dystopian, angrier version of Bella Swan goes into a sadistic, vaguely folksy version of Battle Royale, and wins by faking love. Then she goes back and does it again, only the fake love is sort of real now, maybe. Then war. Everybody dies (well, almost everybody--this isn't George R.R. Martin) but not the cat. The end.
It's violent, it's sad, it has very little joy or beauty or other redeeming qualities. Not the kind of thing I would usually read at all, let alone love with an ardor matched only by my love of hot chocolate, The Civil Wars, and Firefly.
But I do love it.
(Spoilers ahead: DO NOT READ if you haven't seen Mockingjay Part I and intend to!)
When Katniss saw the valley of bones, I was horrified. When the hospital was bombed, I cried. When that huge crowd of rebels went on a suicide mission to destroy the dam, I felt the urge to join in a rousing chorus of "Are you, are you, coming to the tree?" and bolt out of my theater seat and into a watery grave.
I've been thinking about it, and I think that we're all drawn to the idea of a bigger purpose, of fighting for a noble cause. We all want to be the kind of people who would lay down our lives for the ones we love, or the ideals we believe in. I think that shows up in the things we read, the things we watch, and the things we write.
And yes, there's an element of detachment, of a sick, voyeuristic, obligation-free kind of catharsis that comes in watching the battle between fictional injustice and fictional heroism, rather than engaging in actual heroism against actual injustice- but I choose to see it as a precursor, not a substitute. I choose to see it as a sign that what was ever good and noble, once, in the human spirit, is good and noble still.
We want to rise up. We want to join the fight.
Even after the credits roll.
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