"Divergent:" nice try, but no "Hunger Games"

For once, I am being culturally relevant, and discussing the hit novel by Veronica Roth, which is also a movie coming out this weekend, Divergent. I have friends who have enjoyed this book, but for a long time I've been apprehensive. The premise sounded a lot like Hunger Games lite, and I'm loath to waste my time with posers and pretenders. But the good reviews and intriguing movie trailer compelled me to pick up the book and give it a read. And I put the book down, having read the whole thing, confused. I'm not sure if I liked it or if I didn't. And I sure came up with a lot of questions--the bad kind of questions, the ones that poke holes in razor-thin plots and deflate the story like a bloated balloon.

A quick run-down of the plot: the time comes the main character, Beatrice,  a.k.a. Tris, to take the faction aptitude test to see if she should stay in her own faction or switch to another. Her results reveal that she is Divergent: uncategorizable, and somehow dangerous. After giving it some thought, she decides to switch to the Dauntless faction and goes through a grueling initiation process, all the while uncovering a plot to overthrow society as she knows it.

The story of Divergent has a lot in common with the Hunger Games: the setting is a self-contained society formed likely after environmental and sociopolitcal disaster on the brink of collapse; the main character is a young woman who calculates every move she makes, whose friends she views as competitors more often than not; and there's plenty of deadly violence involved in the bulk of the story. The differences lie in the premise and the love story: this dystopian society has more obvious social stratification, with individuals divided in five factions, each modeled after a virtue that the faction most values (honesty, kindness, knowledge, selflessness, and courage), and the leftovers are called factionless (basically pariahs who do most of society's dirty work); the love story is your run-of-the mill YA genre love story, both parties uncertain and shy from the start but quickly fall for each other.

The story had a lot of potential; the premise could have taken us to some interesting places, and raise questions about the nature of humanity and society that even teens could pick up on. I was interested enough in what would happen. I kept reading, even as I kept stumbling on bothersome questions of logic and inconsistency, but I didn't care that much about the characters. Everything seemed to happen too fast, in a way that feels kind of arbitrary.

So, first, with the questions: How long ago did they decide that it was a good idea that each faction should just take control of certain sectors of career tracks? And for Abnegation (selfless) to be the only faction in charge of the government? I mean, each faction deserves representation, and Candor represents honesty, so wouldn't that also be valued in government and politics? And Dauntless seems to be a parody of itself when Tris (the heroine) goes through the initation trials: it's all violence and ridiculous derring-do for basically no reason. Why did they have to fight each other so brutally? How quickly did their wounds heal? Why the fuck did they have to cut their palms at the initiation ceremony and there was no mention of a nurse on hand?  I mean, it's not like it's a cut like that heals instantly!

More questions arose as I read the story. When Tris's mom comes on Visiting Day, she tells her to stay in the middle of the pack. But then when it comes to the simulation stage of initiation, she goes on to be easily the best, and that doesn't raise red flags? (other than being the target of the comically predictable bullies, yawn) Then love interest Tobias goes and gives her a preview of what's to come in the final stage, giving her a huge leg up in the competition. Playing favorites much? Why does it matter if she's first, if all that matters is that she makes the cut? At least in The Hunger Games, Katniss had to be first, or else she would be killed. And the whole Erudite scheme to use the Dauntless to kill and capture Abnegation felt tacked on, after we've spent all this time on initation and only hints of such an attack here and there. The whole story was a disjointed mess, reeking of first novelism. Especially in the beginning, the boring sentence pattern of "I do this. I do this. Then I do this," reared its ugly head, causing me to skim over to the more interesting parts.

I mentioned earlier that I did not care about the characters. There were some interesting moments, like Tris looking at herself in the mirror in the beginning, the zipline scene, a few of the more tense, intimate moments with Tobias. Roth can paint vibrant scenes and action sequences. But the only remotely fleshed out characters were Tobias and Tris, maybe her mom. The rest, especially the villains, were two-dimensional at most.

Plenty of characters die, but I was neither shocked nor saddened by their deaths. Both her parents die, and she witnesses it, which I felt was a little convenient; she kills her so-called friend Will, I guess so there's some personal conflict to start the next book with; and Al kills himself just when he starts being a jerk, to be swiftly forgotten for most of the rest of the book. (not to mention there's some posthumous shaming involved) Her parents seemed to be emotionally distant from her until towards the end of the book, yet there is no sense of tragedy that she never really knew them. Even her so-called friend Christina, she didn't seem to have a deep connection with. I didn't really get that connection with anyone except Tobias, and yet she claims to love all of these other people? It seems that Roth spent too much time focusing on action and plot rather than developing her characters or forging meaningful connections between them.

Finally, the character of Tris. Why is she so special? Why is being Divergent not a thing? It seems highly improbable, especially among those initiates who decided to change factions, that only about a handful of people in each faction are Divergent. Why is everyone else in Dauntless apparently so dumb? Why does she not think she's pretty, when she's thin and blonde? Does Abnegation have low self-esteem on purpose? (I really hope Shailene Woodley doesn't claim to be not pretty in the movie; what an eye-roller that would be) Why did the people who formed this society think that giving people the choice to leave their faction was a good idea in the first place, if they insist on such rigid conformity to faction norms, and divergence is such a bad thing, anyway?

All right, I'll stop with the questions. There were plenty more, though.

This book wasn't all bad. There were some cool moments and interesting writing, and some allowances can be made for the two-dimensional hero/villian set-up, but I guess I shouldn't be surprised that Amateur Hour YA is up to snuff for bestseller status. Will I read the second one? Maybe, maybe not. Though I think I'm going back to grown-up novels for a while. Two stars out of five.

Introducing a New Rating Rubric!

Before I post my next review, I'd like to take some time to explain a second dimension with which I will be rating books, movies, and the like. In case you haven't noticed by now, I'm pretty lefty, and I usually take a paragraph or two to point out any problematic content in the story in question. So, why not build upon that and add a handy rating system to gauge the severity of the oppressive content?

As my overall rating is based on five, and we all love multiples of five, this "Oppression Scale" will be based on 10. 1 means little to no oppressive content (which will be few, I'm sure) and a 10 will be OMG RACIST SEXIST CLASSIST HOMOPHOBIC BULLSHIT! Most likely, a "good" book will have a low oppression score, and a "bad" book will have a high oppression score. I predict that many will score around 3-7. Now, this score is obviously entirely subjective, as different people will be bothered by different content to varying degrees. And no, cliche's will not be counted--unless they're racist cliche's.

Let's take an example: The Hunger Games (book). It features a strong female character, a diversity of races (shown in a good light), and is critical of violence and reality TV. However, I don't think Collins goes far enough in portraying the horror of forced violence, and is inconsistent in Katniss's reactions to violence and death. Overall, these are pretty weak criticisms, so I'll rate it a 2. I don't think we need to be too concerned about this book.

As for an example on the other end of the spectrum: Fifty Shades of Grey. There is nothing redeemable about this book. Christian and Ana's relationship is abusive, yet the author tries to make it seem like an ideal romance. And given that so many women seem to think that this is OK, that makes it even worse. I haven't actually read the whole thing myself--I credit Jennfer Armintrout and her wonderful recaps for cluing me in on the details. And since I haven't read the whole thing, I'll just give it a 9: highly oppressive.

So, that's how it works! Look for it in coming reviews!

The Hunger Games Movie Review; Or, How the Movie is Never, Ever Better than the Book

So it looks like The Hunger Games is going to be a real blockbuster trilogy, along with the books, following Harry Potter and Twilight before it. There was some slight nervous anticipation before it came out in theaters a couple weeks ago, nail-biting over the fact that the protagonist was female and if the movie was going to be any good. There was criticism early on about the fact that the casting call for Katniss called for a specifically white woman, and the fact that the person who ultimately played her was a blonde in real life. I myself was a little miffed about the imperfect appearances (in stark contrast to the first Harry Potter movie, where each person looked the part)--Peeta needed blue eyes, Gale's hair needed to be longer and his skin darker, Haymitch was definitely not blond (and he needed to be more messed up!), and Snow needed to have had some work done. Katniss's criticism goes without saying. I also imagined Rue to be darker-skinned (after all, she's described in the book as having dark brown skin), but the actor who played her fit the part anyway. I'm not going to touch on all those racist Hunger Games fans who thought that Rue wasn't supposed to be black: you people need to pay more attention in both English and History class.

In spite of that negative impression, I was excited to see this movie, not nervous about it like with The Golden Compass (LOVE the books, do not ever want to see the movie!). I went to see it on opening day in a packed theater--we probably bought some of the few tickets left available for that showing. And I liked it a lot; I wanted to just go and read the books again immediately afterward. Though the movie was over two hours, and a bit slow to start, it breezed through the story, much like an abridged version of the book (which isn't really necessary). The shaky-camera thing was odd in the beginning, when there wasn't that much going on, and I wanted more scenes pre-Hunger Games--preferably more with Cinna. People say Lenny Kravitz did a good job, but there wasn't that much for him to do... And the scene when the tributes from District 12 are set on fire is supposed to be incredible, but I was underwhelmed. So, they just wear fire for capes?

Once the Hunger Games begins, though, the film finds its legs, and it captures all the important plot points with seamless faithfulness to the source material. Rue's death was as tragic as it was in the books. However, they did sort of mangle the end: we don't see much of what happens to Katniss and Peeta after the Games end--they don't even look as fucked up as they are in the book--and the rift that forms between them on their way home. Even earlier, as the Games are about to end, they changed Cato's death to make him even more pitiful than he needed to be, and I imagined the moment with the berries to be more dramatic, because they were going to send a big fuck-you to the capitol.

There were plenty of other deviations (such as when Katniss receives the Mockingjay pin) and omissions from the book, predictable in any movie adaptation of a story longer than 60 pages. This is how books are superior to time-constrained media like films: the audience has a chance to get to know the characters, and in the case of speculative fiction, the world, better. We learn a lot of juicy details that wouldn't even make it into a screenplay, let alone a rough cut.

The movie was predictably clean: everybody looked quite clean and healthy for starving civilians and beat-up games contestants. While they could have done something with makeup to produce the haggard effect, I'm not really surprised that everybody looks pretty damn good in the movie. More realistic portrayals of what humans look like has long been relegated to the indie film circuit.

So, while I wasn't one hundred percent thrilled with the look of the film, it was really well done as a movie, with moments that will leave you tense with anticipation even if you've read the books, and enough excitment to have you wanting more. (and there should have been more!) I look forward to the sequel, and hope that it's even better than the first. If you've been thinking about seeing this movie, go ahead and see it: you could do a LOT worse. 3 out of 5 stars.

Mockingjay, and the Disappointment of Hurried Good-byes

OK, I finished the Hunger Games trilogy about a month ago (I read Catching Fire and Mockingjay in quick succession). I won't say much about Catching Fire, but like many second-installments, it was better than the first. I loved all the new characters, the new revelations about Haymitch (one of my fave characters), it was just as fast-paced and exciting as the first, and the ending blew me away.

***WARNING: SPOILERS AHEAD***

My main gripes came with Mockingjay. Unlike the first two installments, the pacing really slowed down. The entire first part was Katniss hanging out in the underground metropolis of District 13. When it was time to go to the Capitol, I got really into it. The blurring of the lines between the "good" guys and "bad" was also really interesting, and not something you see very often in sci-fi/fantasy stories. Though that perspective brought about some depressing rumination towards the end of the novel... which is where my problems begin.

While I wasn't expecting everyone to live (though I figured Katniss, Gale, and Peeta would live, cuz if one of them died, the love triangle would be too easy to resolve), some deaths I found particularly upsetting in their abruptness: namely, Prim, the whole reason Katniss entered the Hunger Games--and set the entire trilogy in motion--in the first place. The suddenness of it all was like when Fred was killed off in Deathly Hallows, only times 1000. Prim was reduced to a mere plot device in her death, to ultimately challenge Katniss to find the strength to keep on living. I know killing in war is senseless, everyone's a potential casualty, blah-blah-blah, but I felt that was needlessly cruel of Collins to do that, when there wasn't much of a reason for Prim to even be on the front lines in the first place. After all they've been through...you hurt them (physically and emotionally) even more?

That was the main thing. This also happens with less than like 50 pages in the book left to go...and we're at the lowest point. The rest seems kind of rushed, especially once Katniss kills the next president-to-be, Coin. There's a pervasive sense of hopelessness that drags itself throughout the rest of the book, even when we fast-forward through the recovery and reconstruction period and find Katniss settled down with Peeta. Someone pointed out that these last few chapters could have been a whole other book in itself, noting that these very important events were hastily rushed through. Guess that's why JK Rowling killed off Dumbledore in the sixth book... And hey, I wouldn't have minded a fourth one, getting to spend a couple hundred more pages with these characters.

But my main disappointment I guess is with the--er--bittersweet ending. In series where the stakes are so high it's almost impossible to see how one can overcome them, there's often sadness and tragedy. But this ending...was such...a downer. There was all this existentialist musing about how whether humankind should even really be allowed to continue existing, given all the destruction they give each other and the environment. Yet they keep on living...why again? Because the instinct to live is more powerful than the compulsion to kill yourself off?

Also--and this was something I wondered throughout the entire series--is everyone just ignorant, or is Panem really the only country left? Did all the other humans on the planet really get killed off some point in the past? Five-six billion of them? Really? I'm just going to go with ignorance--it's not like Katniss and co. really learned anything in school other than the basics of reading, 'riting, and 'rithmetic in addition to the Capitol's propaganda. I sense a brief foray into fanfiction coming on...

But all in all, I enjoyed the series, and like to analyze it almost as much. The series definitely warrants a second read-through...however, I should read some other stuff for a while.

The Hunger Games, and the Art of the Hook

*WARNING: SPOILERS*

So last weekend I read The Hunger Games, uncertain as to whether I would love it or just like it. I got into it after a lot of hype: the folks at my internship raved about it, and I’ve come across a lot of Harry Potter and Twilight comparisons. So when I began reading I wondered: will it be more like Harry Potter (yay) or Twilight (boo)?

Believe the hype.

It has the same edge-of-your-seat story structure that engaged me in Harry Potter and other book series in my youth. For the first time since the Princess Diaries (whenever the last book came out), I read a book in four days of my own volition, and not because I had to read it for a class. The pace picked up really quickly, and before I knew it I was engrossed in the adventure.

Like Harry Potter, The Hunger Games was almost a completely positive reading experience. I got engrossed in the story almost immediately, and there was no shortage of violence, intrigue, and of course romance. It's almost indescribably good. The characters that we got to know were rich and complex, the protagonist Katniss a strong but flawed woman. I teared up when Rue was killed, and was nearly bawling when District 11 gave Katniss the bread as a token of appreciation. (something similar happened in Book 2, which I'm already almost done reading) I can't really remember the last time a new book got me so emotional and excited. Maybe Lolita, which I read back in January... and that was a different kind of reading experience.

However, unlike Harry Potter, I am glad that this world is not possible in reality--and hopefully never will be. In spite of all the violence and gore (which, as a formerly avid video game player of Grand Theft Auto, Super Smash Bros. and the like, I enjoyed in an abstractly sadistic way I guess), this was not glorified or celebrated by the sympathetic characters. In fact, because they are forced to kill to survive, one finds the violence abhorrent. It's the characters that matter most in this YA series.

I was actually surprised at how much romance was actually IN the book, and how quickly we learn of Peeta's love for Katniss. One could almost classify it as a YA romance...with a dystopian twist. It didn't put me off too much...I used to read fantasy/sci-fi stories with a pivotal romantic subplot all the time--though they were shojo manga, not YA prose. How did I get swept into it?

Authors like Suzanne Collins and JK Rowling have some sort of magic touch--a mixture of writing talent, cleverness, and ability to craft a story that has the audience asking for more--that captivates readers so much. I think it's an impossible talent to learn, as it's almost impossible to articulate why these books are so good. It's not the same way that David Foster Wallace or Vladimir Nabokov or Joyce Carol Oates are good writers. Or maybe it is...they're just working with different genres.

All in all, I've found a new obsession. I can't wait to read through the end of Book 2! (I'm already on Chapter 21...) I might even see the movie. The pacing of the book is so brisk it was practically made with a movie deal in mind.I give it a 4.5...and will probably like it even more on a second go-around. But I have plenty more to say about this book: expect more gushing in the coming weeks.