Let it be known that I had heard of The Hunger Games in late 2010. I steadfastly refused to read it until October, 2011. I learned a new lesson: Never judge a book by it’s back-cover synopsis. Or by other people’s comparisons.
It sounded gruesome and Battle Royal-esque. I even attempted reading the first chapter, but the mangy, scruffy description of Buttercup the cat (I hate cats, sorry cat-lovers) turned me off immediately. But after much coaxing and cajoling, I decided to give it a proper shot and read till AT LEAST chapter 3. I ended up finishing the all three books in a total of 12 hours. This 12 hours was actually 36 when you counted eating, sleeping, school, homework, showering, and other life activities that rudely interrupted my precious Peeta-appreciation time. If the books hadn’t been borrowed, I would have found some sort of way to read them while showering. I was so hooked that I even started to read on the subway — something I am not accustomed to do because I suffer from motion-sickness. But The Hunger Games was worth it. I felt daring and brave while reading on that subway train. My nausea matched (sort of) that of Katniss’ as she tried to heal Peeta’s disintegrating leg. I could totally be in The Hunger Games. Katniss survives the arena. I survive reading on the subway. Absolutely the same thing.
But I couldn’t just stop there. I had to re-read the series. And not just re-read it. I had to ensure that other people read it as well, so that I could discuss the books in all seriousness with people who were sucked into the same Hunger Games daze that I had encountered and didn’t want to escape. Let’s face it, when we find that book that’s so good we forget what reality is and get mad when we are forced to encounter our own lives again, it’s a keeper.
So I tried to convince my friends, and strangers, that they NEEDED to read The Hunger Games (this is a subliminal message to you, reader, to read it if you haven’t). And nobody budged Everyone was as stubborn as I used to be! If I heard one more “It sounds too much like Battle Royale to me”, I feel sure I would’ve exploded. But perseverance prevailed, and I managed to convince ONE friend to read the series.
These are some gems from the absolute serious twitter discussion that followed between her, myself, and a few others that had previously read the books (usernames removed for privacy protection):
- Gale=powerful winds. Peeta=bread best served with falafel or hummus. No contest
- Whaa? Well, bread is fortifying. Katniss needs bread! #TeamPeeta
- Katniss wears has bird on her pin. The expression is “WIND beneath my wings” not bread. #TeamGale
- Too much bread makes you overfed and lazy. Wind makes you get up and go!
- #TeamPeeta!!!!!! except when I read the books I’m team-threesome. Wrong. But right.
So what do you guys think? Is Gale really comparable to a powerful wind; rough and wild? Is Peeta really comparable to bread; warm, trustworthy, and necessary? And without jumping on the Twilight #Team*inserthotguyhere* bandwagon, which male character did you prefer? Why?
If you haven’t read The Hunger Games yet and you’re longing to lose your body, mind, and soul in a mesmerizing story, do yourself a favour. Read it.