Mockingjay

I finished reading the third novel in the Hunger Games series, Mockingjay, a couple weeks ago after having read The Hunger Games and the sequel, Girl on Fire. I've written before on the first film adaptation, but here are some thought on the series of books.

Overall, I found the trilogy enjoyable; however, the sequels were incrementally worse than the original. The symbolism in The Hunger Games was relatively subtle and were quite effective. By the end of Mockingjay, however, Collins feels compelled (perhaps by editors?) to follow a pattern of presenting metaphors and then inserting an explanation for the metaphors. It is heavy-handed and, even for a young adult novel, is condescending.

The irony, I think, is that the things that didn't work in the third novel will play well under the right direction in the upcoming film. Without spoiling, there are several extended scenes in which central characters are isolated in confined spaces for relatively prolonged spans of time. I found myself thinking often of Terry Gilliam, master of the odd and absurd, the director of such films as Monty Python and the Holy Grail, Brazil, Twelve Monkeys, and Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, although I believe Gary Ross has already signed on for the two sequels (the third of which, it has been reported, will now be split into two films).

For all you social science educators out there, here is the bottom line. While the series begins with some noteworthy sociological elements, it becomes decreasingly sociological to the point that the final installment reads more like a video game synopsis than social commentary. Still, the franchise has value, and I am still entertaining its use in a future course.

Where Is My Soma Already?

Happy birthday to Aldous Huxley. Here is a selection (via The Writer's Almanac) from Neil Postman:

What Orwell feared were those who would ban books. What Huxley feared was that there would be no reason to ban a book, for there would be no one who wanted to read one. Orwell feared those who would deprive us of information. Huxley feared those who would give us so much that we would be reduced to passivity and egoism. Orwell feared that the truth would be concealed from us. Huxley feared the truth would be drowned in a sea of irrelevance. Orwell feared we would become a captive culture. Huxley feared we would become a trivial culture....In short, Orwell feared that what we fear will ruin us. Huxley feared that our desire will ruin us.

Seems to me that our present reality is much closer to that predicted by Huxley than Orwell, although I'm not sure which is worse.

Once Regarding Slavery, Once More Regarding Equality

60 Minutes aired a piece this last Sunday on the use of the so-called N-word in the Adventures of Huckleberry Finn. It is a good discussion on the power of language, the ability (and even necessity) for groups to reappropriate demeaning labels, and the role of status in whitewashing history and literature. ("Tom Sawyer, you tricked me. This is less fun than previously indicated. Let this corny slice of Americana be your tomb for all eternity.") In related news, the Writer's Almanac this morning noted the 200th anniversary of Harriet Beecher Stowe's birthday with this:

In 1996, novelist Jane Smiley wrote in Harper's: "Ernest Hemingway, thinking of himself, as always, once said that all American literature grew out of Huck Finn. It undoubtedly would have been better for American literature, and American culture, if our literature had grown out of one of the best-selling novels of all time, another American work of the nineteenth century, Uncle Tom's Cabin." Smiley explained that by making the racism and slavery a personal matter between two individuals, rather than a political and institutional evil, Huck Finn fails even where it succeeds, by allowing white people to feel good about getting over their racism without ever actually doing anything about it [emphasis mine]. Smiley wrote, "Personal relationships do not mitigate the evils of slavery." In Huck Finn, she writes, "All you have to do to be a hero is acknowledge that your poor sidekick is human; you don't actually have to act in the interests of his humanity [emphasis mine]." She concludes: "I would rather my children read Uncle Tom's Cabin, even though it is far more vivid in its depiction of cruelty than Huck Finn, and this is because Stowe's novel is clearly and unmistakably a tragedy. No whitewash, no secrets, but evil, suffering, imagination, endurance, and redemption — just like life."

I think this speaks to recent claims that, given the election of Barack Obama, we now live in a post-racial America. If only we were all colorblind, so the wisdom goes, race would no longer be an issue. Smiley above points to the inherent flaw in this logic. Racism is structural, not (only) individual; therefore, we need active solutions that reach beyond the simplistic, micro-level calls for redaction in historically important works of fiction—even if flawed—and the willful ignorance of patent problems.

Blogging a Novel

So, I've decided to blog a novel. What makes me qualified to write a novel? Well, not much, but when has lack of ability or advisement ever stopped me from doing anything? If you're interested, you can follow it at http://gnawingthenovel.blogspot.com/. I can't promise a masterpiece. Hell, I can't even promise that it'll be entertaining--except maybe as schadenfreude. Anyway, off I go!