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The Hunger Games: Panem’s Politics

Travis Prinzi — Wed, 17 Feb 2010 00:30:12 +0000

While John Granger hasn’t managed to convince me to read the Twilight books I haven’t read, he did get me interested in The Hunger Games. About halfway through the first book of the series, I reserved the domain name PanemPolitics.com. I’ll never do anything with it, but for a guy like me who’s written at length about the political satire and commentary in Harry Potter, The Hunger Games is a dream series. (By the way, we’ve already gotten to work on some of the political analysis of Firefly in the view-through – here about episode one and here about the theme song.)

I’m not sure how much Mr. Granger intends to continue to write on The Hunger Games, but I thought as he got the ball rolling with a genius theory on the third book, I’d get some of my thoughts down and see if we can’t generate some more energy around this excellent trilogy. Be warned that there are spoilers ahead.

Panem’s Politics

Panem is what remains of North America as we presently know it after some kind of environmental tragedy stuck (HG p. 18) - perhaps an intended reference to climate change?

In response to catastrophe, there’s always a government ready and willing to save the day by taking away people’s freedoms. This is what the Capitol does in Panem, a world split into 13 districts that exist on the land that remains. Panem, as we know it, is post-rebellion. We’re quite some time removed from whatever catastrophe put the world in the shape it’s in, but we’re just 74 years removed from a revolution that was quelled with horrific force by the Capitol. As a yearly reminder not to get out of line, two children from each district are selected for The Hunger Games – thrown into an arena where they are expected to kill each other, and the last kid standing wins. You should be thinking both Roman gladiator games and The Running Man at this point.

The Games are a smart move on the Capitol’s part. J.K. Rowling says that she was exploring in her Harry Potter books the problem of an oppressed group splintering into factions and in-fighting. In The Hunger Games, The Capitol has guaranteed this will happen before it can even develop organically by pitting District children against District children. We see this happen at the start of the 75th Games. You’d think that the remaining victors would decide to band together, say “Screw the games,” and refuse to play once in the arena. Instead, they immediately return to violence against one another (CF, p. 276).

On the other hand, it might not be such a smart move. When people can fight in freedom, they fight. When they’re forced by the State to fight, they just might join together and tell the State they won’t have it.

There is satire galore in these books, and fashionistas get the worst of it. Katniss, our heroine, is set up with a team of them to get her presentable for the Games. The descriptions are thick with parody of Hollywood fashion obsession, but the characters are not entirely 2-dimensional. The stylists are shallow, but they are human. Cinna, her main stylist, doesn’t fit the stereotype at all, and he assists Katniss in her rebellion against the Capitol.

There is an ongoing commentary on poverty in the books. There is discussion of abuse of power during wartime. This is a book series about the plight of the oppressed poor against the Masters of War, “those who use their brains to find amusing ways to kill us” (CF, p. 236).

The story focuses not on those who are ready to fight a new rebellion (Gale and Peeta), but on the young woman who isn’t: Katniss. Here’s the political key to The Hunger Games, and you’ll recognize it if you’ve read my work on Harry Potter: “What we achieve inwardly will change outer reality.” No, that Plutarch quote that Rowling used isn’t found anywhere in the books, even though we do have a key character named Plutarch Heavensbee. (As an aside, I was happy to be on my game when first encountering Plutarch. I thought immediately that his rise to Game Master was a win for the Rebellion, both because of his name meaning and his flashing of the Mockingjay symbol. I was proven right at the end of Catching Fire.)

The Spirit of Katniss

Let’s explore Katniss’s journey to prove my thesis that Collins follows in Rowling’s (and many others’) footsteps in calling for inward personal change leading to the outward transformation of society. When we first meet Katniss, she’s close to Gale, who has a lot of rebellious things to say about the Capitol. Gale seems ready to lead a Revolution – or at the very least, to run from the Capitol to be outside of its power. Katniss doesn’t quite get it.

Peeta tells Katniss before the start of the 74th Games, “I want to die as myself.” That’s a much easier thing to say when one actually knows oneself, as Peeta does. He will not allow himself to be dehumanized by the games, because he knows who he is as a human.

Katniss, on the other hand, does not. She doesn’t know what a “spirit” is (HG, p. 121). Cinna, her fashion guru who dresses her as the girl on fire, tells her that people can’t help admiring her spirit. Katniss’s thoughts in response go like this: “My spirit. This is a new thought. I’m not exactly sure what it means, but it suggests I’m a fighter.”

Indeed. But Katniss is going to need to have spirit-knowledge before she knows what she’s fighting for. It’s interesting that Cinna is the one who begins to teach her what it means to be human, because on the whole, the Capitol’s fashionistas don’t have a clue. When Katniss is first made up by a group of them, Flavius tells her, “You almost look like a human now” (p. 62). We don’t get the idea that these hairdressers have the first clue what it means to truly be human.

Katniss doesn’t yet understand the inner life, the inner logos-reality which allows her to be contemplative and self-aware enough to oppose the Capitol in truth and sacrificial love. On the roof before the 74th Games, Peeta’s ready to die a martyr, and Katniss is simply confused.Part of the way into Catching Fire, however, Katniss is wrestling with her inner-self and her motivation for defying the Capitol with the berries at the end of the 74th Games (CF p. 118). Was it just to stay alive? To keep Peeta alive? Or was she consciously opposing an oppressive regime?

The fact that she’s asking these questions shows a big transition for her; she now knows, deep inside, that the Capitol must be opposed, and she wants to be part of that opposition. What changed? What made the difference?

The Death of Rue

Rue did. During the Games, Katniss made an alliance with the extraordinary character Rue. There are lots of references to plants and plant names in these books, and Rue is a key one. A “rue” is a strong herb with medicinal properties, used to help with eyestrain or sore eyes. Shakespeare called the rue the “sour herb of grace” in Richard II, and it was used to mark the spot where the queen learned of Richard’s being taken captive (III.4.104-105). “Rue,” of course, also means to cause to repent or regret. At Rue’s death, Katniss’s inward repentance and transformation begins. She can no longer simply act out of self-preservation. She must act for others and against evil (the Capitol). She reflects later that her covering Rue with flowers was seen by the Capitol as an act of rebellion; she was suppose to glory in the death of other tributes, not mourn them (p. 363). The funeral she enacted on the forest floor for Rue was edited by the Capitol when broadcast on TV. Rue’s death and burial, Harry Potter fans, is the Dobby moment. Rue is the medicinal herb which helps Katniss begin to “see” (healing eyestrain) the spiritual things.

Near the climax of the same book, the night before Katniss and Peeta are going to make their final moves toward winning the Games, Katniss spends the entire night watching the journey of the moon through the sky. For understanding the symbolism there, think of Luna being Harry’s only light/guide through Order of the Phoenix.

Catching Fire gives us a Katniss who is consciously in rebellion against the Capitol, though she’s still a pawn in someone else’s game. (I think John Granger is probably right that it’s Undersee’s game.) She now knows why both Gale and Peeta were so passionate in their opposition to the overbearing government. She concludes early on in the book, “If I held them [the berries] out to defy the Capitol, then I am someone of worth.” She begins to recognize her faults: “I’m selfish. I’m a coward….No wonder I won the Games. No decent person ever does” (CF p. 117). Then she remembers that she saved Peeta. She begins to wrestle with why she did it.

She’s also ready to play a sacrificial role in her opposition to the Capitol, and as she prepares for the 75th Games, she’s in a much different place than she was that night before the 74th. The big difference is that now, she knows her own spirit:

Yes, everyone in the districts will be watching to see how I handle this death sentence, this final act of President Snow’s dominance. They will be looking for some that their battles have not been in vain. If I can make it clear that I’m still defying the Capitol right up to the end, the Capitol will have killed me … but not my spirit. What better way to give hope to the rebels? [...] I will be more valuable dead. They can turn me into some kind of martyr for the cause…. (p. 243-44, emphasis added)

By the way, if you’re skeptical that Suzanne Collins has deliberately chosen character names with important meanings, consider that her enemy is President Snow, and she becomes the “Girl on Fire.”

The Mockingjay Symbol and the Pearl Theory

The Mockingjay is obviously the central symbol of the books, and it’s a great one. The Capitol distorts nature by creating “muttations” – breeds that serve some purpose for the Capitol. The jabberjay was a popular one – a male bird that was able to serve as a spy by perfectly mimicking a human voice, and therefore able to relay messages about what the rebels are doing. The rebels figured it out, and began sending false messages. The Capitol, of course, discarded the jabberjays as useless, but they mated with female mockingbirds and produced the mockingjay. You’ll notice that the feminine element is the key part of the protest against the very dominant, oppressive system. Gale, Peeta, and Haymitch are integral to the new rebellion, but Katniss (and Undersee, I’d wager with John Granger) are the real heart of it.

This leads us to speculation, and John Granger has done a lot of great work. I’ll offer nothing as concrete and detailed as Mr. Granger has. I’ll only suggest that while I agree with the idea that Ms. Undersee is indeed the current “mockingjay,” that the continued spirit-transformation of Katniss will result in her being the book’s true mockingjay, the title character of the third book.

Based on the way she scratched up Haymitch’s face at the end of Catching Fire, she’s got a bit of learning to do. But she’ll also have to come to terms with being a player in someone else’s game and find her own mockingjay voice before the end.

I don’t intend to do a lot of writing on The Hunger Games, but I do want to return with one more post taking up various issues of Panem’s culture and tie them to key themes, particularly the place of the Fall in the appeal of dystopia and the connections between the fashion satire, evil as dehumanization, poverty and power.

C.S. Lewis Didn’t Have a Hairy Heart

Travis Prinzi — Sun, 25 Jan 2009 12:51:33 +0000

“The Warlock’s Hairy Heart” is a tale of dehumanization because of unwillingness to love, for fear of being hurt. Fear vs. Love the overriding theme of the Harry Potter stories.

I love it when I come across a comment written by someone decades or hundreds of years ago that perfectly describes a newer story I’ve recently read. In this case, C.S. Lewis provides insightful commentary on this dark Beedle tale:

Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even to an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket – safe, dark, motionless, airless – it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. (The Four Loves)

This is not the first time Lewis has provided insight into our Potter stories.

Beedle was a Gothic Calvinist

Travis Prinzi — Wed, 10 Dec 2008 04:03:39 +0000

“The Warlock’s Hairy Heart.” Now that’s one freaky story. The heart of a man who does not want to love is locked away, and over time, loses its humanity and because the heart of a beast.

The darker elements of fairy stories are the things that Mrs. Bloxam and the Nice People don’t think children should hear, because they might get scared. The monsters become pink fluffy bunny rabbits and apples filled with dark magic become nice old ladies’ apple pies.

An excellent article by Melanie McDonagh appeared in The Telegraph a couple days ago. The whole article well worth your full attention, but mine zeroed in on an interesting paragraph:

One ground-breaking book on the Brothers Grimm, The Owl, the Raven and the Dove, by a Jesuit scholar, G Ronald Murphy, makes clear the extent to which the brothers infused the old pagan tales with their own religious sensibility – they were humane Calvinists.

I’ve heard it said that Rowling must be a Calvinist for many reasons – her being a Presbyterian, though she’s not a Calvinistic one; the seemingly fated and even Deus ex machina moments in the series; Voldemort’s apparent predestined path of evil, etc. But though Rowling herself is certainly not a Calvinist (read once again what Dumbledore believes about prophecies, fate, and free will in chapter 23 of Half-Blood Prince), there are some Calvinistic moments that show up in her writing: the Gothic depiction of human depravity. It’s in Voldemort’s rudimentary distorted-baby body in Goblet of Fire. It’s in the hundreds of the re-animated dead crawling out of the water to drown the hero.

And it’s in the basement of the warlock’s castle, when the beastly, fallen, depraved nature of his heart results in nothing but selfish desire and murder.

I don’t know much about the belief systems of the best of the Gothic writers, but I’m betting there’s more than a few Calvinists among them. (I shot an email off to Amy Sturgis about the idea, and she tells me there’s been some good scholarly work done on the Calvinist-Gothic link, notably Victor Sage, Horror Fiction in the Protestant Tradition.)

Do take a few moments to read the entirety of Ms. McDonagh’s article, which touches on the key themes of the first two chapters of Harry Potter & Imagination (which you can pre-order for an autographed copy!). (And HT to John Granger for emailing me the link to the article.)

A Published Lexicon, and a Beedle Movie

Travis Prinzi — Tue, 09 Dec 2008 18:30:55 +0000

Steve Vander Ark’s Lexicon is finally going to be published, after some revisions to the book are made, putting it in compliance with the court’s ruling.

Warner Bros. is talking about a Beedle movie. As I was reading the book, I thought, “A movie of these five stories might be interesting, if put in the right hands.” But one thought has caused this idea to come crashing down on my head:

Michael Gambon as Dumbledore the narrator.

Rowling vs. the Lexicon, Again…

Beedle the Bard Round-up

Travis Prinzi — Fri, 05 Dec 2008 13:08:54 +0000

The seven Hog’s Head Beedle the Bard discussion links:

For the record, Aberforth’s not jumping in on this discussion. He’s over in the corner grumbling about some goat story that didn’t get included.

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Beedle the Bard: Dumbledore’s Commentary

Travis Prinzi — Fri, 05 Dec 2008 04:57:34 +0000

This quick-fire series of initial thoughts on Beedle would not be complete without a discussion of Dumbledore’s commentary. The real meat on this will be in John Granger’s promised forthcoming post on Dumbledore’s writing on two levels. Still, I hope to add a little bit of fuel to the conversation here.

Rowling did get a couple of slams in via Dumbledore, who took shots at Mrs. Bloxam, an advocate for santized fairy tales, and Brutus and Lucius Malfoy, the bigots and racists.

Mrs. Beatrix Bloxam I take to represent all those who would remove the frightening, Gothic elements from the fairy tales for the sake of not scaring children. A number of years ago, Rowling recounted a trip she took to the United States. I’ll quote in full here, and do note that this section immediately follows the most clear endorsement of Fabian-gradualism that Rowling has ever made:

E: And you’re working in these issues that, for you as a person, are obviously crucial to your life. I mean, these issues about race relations and civil rights.

JK: You know, children are interested in those things. They are. It’s not just me. I think they are.

E: So, are we protecting our kids too often from those kinds of things? Because certainly in North America, there is a sense that we ought to protect our kids from…

JK: On my last tour I was there over Halloween. And I was stunned that on my hotel television…you see, my daughter was in this hotel room, and three programs in a row were concerned with ‘how do we stop our children being frightened by Halloween.’ Three in a row. These daytime chat shows. ‘Well, make sure you watch them putting up the decorations, so they can see it’s not real. Explain to them it’s all for fun.’ And I’m sitting there and I’m thinking, you are trying to protect children from their own imaginations, and you can’t do that. That’s how you turn out frightened children, in my opinion. You turn out frightened children by saying, ‘It’s not scary. There’s nothing there to frighten you.’ Kids will get scared and they’ve got to live through that and then to deal with that. You can’t stop them being frightened. A happy child is not one who has never experienced fear or who has never been allowed to experience fear.

E: Fear is a healthy thing?

JK: It is a healthy thing. It’s a survival thing. What then happens to the child who has been so protected that their age…I mean how could a child grow to age 14 never having experienced fear, but let’s say that were possible? It would be a destroying experience for that boy or girl the first time they felt fear. You have to learn that.

I think Mrs. Bloxam represents these people who want to protect kids from their own imaginations by telling sanitized fairy tales. Interestingly, this discussion flows right out of her advocacy for gradualism, and comments on race and the ability of children to comprehend and care about such matters.

Which sums up the key elements both of Beedle the Bard’s tales, and of Dumbledore’s commentary: Social Justice and Gothic Fear. Dumbledore’s commentary frequently emphasizes the moral issues of social justice (he flat-out calls Lucius’s request to ban “The Fountain of Fair Fortune” immoral), and he’s an advocate for letting the stories have their frightening elements. As John Granger has noted in the comments, and I’m sure many have observed, there are Gothic elements all over these stories.

Here’s a case study in how I read Dumbledore. When explaining his conflict with Lucius Malfoy, he writes, “This exchange marked the beginning of Mr. Malfoy’s long campaign to have be removed from my post as Headmaster of Hogwarts, and of mine to have him removed from his position as Lord Voldemort’s Favorite Death Eater” (p. 42). I take it to mean that he wants, by any means, to pull Malfoy away from that ridiculous life which fuels the hatred and bigotry at the source of their conflict, and open up the possibility of redemption for him – which task he accomplished in the saving of Draco. In other words, Dumbledore is the kind of bloak who acts on the moral lesson of “The Wizard and the Hopping Pot” – love your enemy. Too rosy? How do you read that statement?

The most controversial bit of commentary is “The Tale of the Three Brothers.” I opened that conversation here, and it’s a good one.

On the whole, Dumbledore’s commentary is a delightful read, with lots of funny moments, and several windows with views into his character, into the Wizarding World, and into the art of story.

The other matter of interest is the validity of Dumbledore’s interpretation. Is he correct, as revgeorge asks, that the son in “The Wizard and the Hopping Pot” had his conscience re-awoken? Or did he just want the stupid warty pot to stop vomiting on him?

More on Dumbledore’s commentary in forthcoming posts.

Beedle the Bard: “The Tale of the Three Brothers”

Travis Prinzi — Fri, 05 Dec 2008 00:17:52 +0000

Here’s the great irony of Dumbledore’s commentary on “The Tale of the Three Brothers” – The man who knows the dangers of temptation to power, particularly the temptation of deathlessness, used his authority as a well-respected, even revered, member of the Wizarding community to convince the Wizarding World that the three Deathly Hallows have no basis in reality.

This last bit of commentary is not Dumbledore explaining the real dangers of the Hallows and the need to abandoned them, destroy them, etc. It is Dumbledore burying the story further in the aura of legend and fable – and in doing so, attempting to accomplish, by the deception, the philosophical and moral point of the story for the entire Wizarding World.

Here are Dumbledore’s attempts at burying the Hallows legend:

The Cloak: Dumbledore writes, “Throughout all the centuries … nobody has ever claimed to have found Death’s Cloak” (p. 97). This is likely true, in and of itself. We can’t even be sure James knew what the Cloak really was. Having written this commentary just 18 months prior to his death, Dumbledore had both possessed the cloak and knew its present location. What this means, in conjunction with his gift of the Beedle tales to Hermione, is: he trusted Harry to keep the secret.
The Stone: He simply states that it’s never been found. Now, 18 months before his death, this was probably still true in Dumbledore’s mind. If he discovered the stone in the summer between Harry’s 5th and 6th year, then he wrote this line approximately 6-8 months before he discovered the Stone. His commentary then reverts to the lesson of Babbitty Rabbitty (no magic can raise the dead) and the fifth tale’s point that the Stone was Death’s trick to lure the second brother to his death. We can assume, of course, Dumbledore did believe the Stone existed.
The Elder Wand: More of Dumbledore’s clever trickery here. He is obviously the wand’s possessor at this point, but he simply recounts the “bloody trail of the Elder Wand,” seemingly dismissive of the idea that there is one true Elder Wand passing from hand to hand (“the so-called history of the Elder Wand,” p. 106).
On the whole, he reinforces his lesson to Harry from Book 1: That humans choose precisely the wrong things for themselves. Very few are those as wise as the brother who chose the Invisibility Cloak.

The final line is chilling: “Even I, Albus Dumbledore, would find it easiest to refuse the Invisibility Cloak; which only goes to show that, clever as I am, I remain just as big a fool as anyone else” (p. 107).

So Dumbledore, with knowledge of the Hallows in hand, chooses to use his authoritative voice in the Wizarding World to attempt to put a stop to any future seeking of the Hallows. More than that, he sought to protect the Wizarding World not only from themselves, but from wizards like himself.

Now, the question to be debated is: Was Albus Dumbledore right to do so?

Beedle the Bard: “Babbitty Rabbitty and Her Cackling Stump”

Travis Prinzi — Thu, 04 Dec 2008 20:23:16 +0000

What a fantastic little story! Aside from being a delight to read, there’s some interesting commentary by Dumbledore, who notes that this is the only story of the five that almost completely plays by the rules of real Wizarding World magic.

It’s an interesting observation, because even though the magical world is not, as I’ve argued, taken by surprise by encountering magic (in the same way that we are when we encounter it in a story, because it’s so unfamiliar), nevertheless Beedle wrote four out of five tales using a different kind of magic – magic that didn’t behave in the same way as “real” magic does. In other words, the element of difference – creating an “other” world in which to explore problems in our own – is still a fundamental part of the Wizarding World’s fairy tales.

Lots of humorous commentary by Dumbledore on this one.

By the way – funniest line in the book is Dumbledore’s twice-repeated footnote, “Such as myself.”

Beedle the Bard: “The Warlock’s Hairy Heart”

Travis Prinzi — Thu, 04 Dec 2008 20:09:23 +0000

This story, the most gruesome of Beedle’s tales, draws a little bit more directly from a tradition Rowling has already pulled from for the creation of Horcruxes: the magical ability to remove one’s heart and keep it in a safe place. As Colin Duriez notes in A Field Guide to Harry Potter and I expound upon on Harry Potter & Imagination, Horcruxes bear certain similarities to George MacDonald’s story, “The Giant’s Heart.”

I had wondered if the comparison was too much of a stretch, but this story (would that I had it in my hands before the book went to the printers!) confirms the parallel. Dumbledore makes the point clearly, commenting on the young warlock’s magical removal and locking away of his own heart: “The resemblance of this action to the creation of a Horcrux has been noted by many writers” (p. 58).

There is, of course, the obvious moral lesson: if you lock away your own heart for fear of love, you will turn into an evil person. But deeper than this is the philosophy of life and humanity espoused by the story: You cannot separate from yourself what is essential to humanity – and that includes pain and death. “To hurt is as human as to breathe,” Dumbledore writes (p. 56).

The story also confirms the definition of evil that I argue for in chapter 4 in Harry Potter & Imagination. When the man locks his heart away for fear of falling sway to the foolishness of love and family, his heart begins to grow black hair all over it. His heart has become a beast, and when he returns his heart to his chest, he can only act like a beast. He has dehumanized himself, and so become evil in the process.

Being the darkest of the 5 tales, it most poignantly taps into elements of evil and fear. For more on these themes in Harry Potter, see chapters 3 and 4 of my book (which manuscript I wish I still had in my hands).

Beedle the Bard: “The Fountain of Fair Fortune”

Travis Prinzi — Thu, 04 Dec 2008 19:19:04 +0000

The second story in The Tales of Beedle the Bard is described by Dumbledore as “a perennial favorite” (p. 35) and “probably the most popular” of the Beedle stories (p. 39). After an amusing story about an attempted theatrical version of the play to celebrate Christmas at Hogwarts (who ever thought we’d get backstory on Silvanus Kettleburn?), Dumbledore explains that this story has been challenged in the school library by Lucius Malfoy, because it contains a Muggle-Witch union. This was the original source of Dumbledore’s longstanding conflict with Lucius, and the impetus for the latter’s frequent attempts to oust the former from his position as Headmaster. Dumbledore’s response to Lucius is witty, yet firm – and classic Dumbledore.

Two points in particular:

This is the first tale that demonstrates something of a “feminist” story-telling on the part of Beedle. There are three heroines and one hero. The “hero” is a weak and pathetic Muggle man until the very end, but the three witches actively pursue the fountain to remedy their problems, dragging the weak knight along with them. In the end, all three witches solve their own problems apart from the fountain, and the man is deluded into thinking the fountain – which really has no magical properties at all – has cured him of his cowardly, pathetic nature.
Despite the story’s telling of the strength of three women and the weakness of one man, the conflict over this tale is about the Muggle marrying the witch. I wonder what this says about the conversations about social equity happening in the Wizarding World. Through the stories, we got very little hint of a battle against sexism (apart from Hermione’s insistence that the Half-Blood Prince could be a female – and Hermione may have brought her fighting feminist spirit with her from the Muggle world). The “race” issue remains the dominant one in the Wizarding World. Has the issue of gender equality hardly be raised? Does it need to be, based on what we know of the Wizarding World? What would that look like?

The Hog's Head » Beedle the Bard

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