the read: The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes by Suzanne Collins
the rating: 6 / 10
the recap: I was SO excited when Suzanne Collins announced she was returning to the Hunger Games world with a prequel. This was the trilogy that sparked my love of reading and introduced me to the magic of fandom. For years I've been crossing my fingers she would revisit this rich world and its many untold stories.
The prequel follows 18 year old Coriolanus Snow years before he became the infamous President Snow. It's the 10th Hunger Games and the Capitol's brightest (and richest) students are chosen to be mentors; Snow's tribute happens to be a girl from District 12. For him, though, the Games promise the perfect springboard to a future of power, wealth, and prestige of his very own.
roses: First, the positives . . . Right from page one, we meet a few familiar faces and names, among them Heavensbee, Crane, and Flickerman, as well as Tigris from Mockingjay, who is actually Snow's cousin. (!?) My favorite parallel, though, has to be the origin of familiar songs from District 12, The Hanging Tree and Deep in the Meadow. It was a touching nod to Katniss and very tasteful in its subtlety.
For me, the minor characters proved to be the most interesting. This book carries a much different atmosphere due to Snow's inherent juxtaposition to Katniss, her home in the Districts, her role in the Games, and her status as hero. That being said, I was constantly looking to the secondary characters to find someone who I could laugh with and root for. I wish we got to see more of these (like Coriolanus's classmates and the group of Peacekeepers later in the novel) because they brought a levity that Snow's persona lacked.
The most gripping aspect of the story was witnessing the Hunger Games' inception and evolution. Ballad takes place 60 ish years before Katniss's Games, and I was shocked to see how differently they transpired in Panem's primitive years. Here we see the barest bones of the 74th Hunger Games, and I honestly can't decide which is more repulsive—the grand, publicized spectacle or a brief event garnering hardly any recognition or remembrance. Consequently, Coriolanus's setting hardly resembles hers at all, thus imploring us to question how terribly this event, and this society, spiraled in those decades in between. Unsurprisingly, Snow played a large role in that transformation.
thorns: In creative writing class, the first thing you learn is "show, don't tell." This book disappointed me primarily because paragraphs upon paragraphs told me what happened, leaving the characters two-dimensional, the story dry, and the metaphors cheap.
The original trilogy succeeded and resonated because it was rooted in rich world-building, heart-racing plot, and lovable, well-developed characters. Ballad only exhibits the first, and it's lackluster at best. So much of this book was wasted introducing us to a world we already know instead of developing complex character dynamics and plot twists. Did we need pages and pages describing District 12? Nooooo. We needed—and expected—pages and pages of action, adventure, romance, betrayal. However, we didn't get that.
So many times, a chapter would end with an awesome cliffhanger, and I'd think, Finally! The twist I've been waiting for! It was so close and yet so far. Those captivating moments were too soon swept under the rug, dismissed, or "resolved" before any action really began. The Hunger Games themselves were very abbreviated, which surprised me, considering I assumed they'd be the narrative focal point. The closer I got to the end of the book, the more hope I lost that I'd get that mind-boggling twist. Ugh. The lost potential!
I'm usually so intrigued by villain origin stories, uncovering their early motivations and what catalyzed a passion for evil. Where Ballad falls flat is Coriolanus' contradictory, often indifferent character. He has beliefs, yes, but he doesn't act on them until literally the very end of the novel. By that point, I was completely unsatisfied and (dare I say it) bored by him.
Here's the thing: I can understand a completely psychopathic villain who cares for no one but himself and his cause. I would argue that the President Snow we encounter in the trilogy is exactly that. However, the Snow we see in Ballad is not that guy. His emotions and allegiances flip from one extreme to another unnervingly quickly, yet not to an extent that convinces me he's intentionally insane (from a literary standpoint, that is). Most of the book, he resides in this irritating apathetic, self-deprecating middle ground. When his dramatic gestures of love or malice do appear, it actually seems out of character.
Additionally, I found the characters' attitudes and perceptions of the Hunger Games unrealistic, before, during, and especially after them. I see how the Capitol children would have unique world views; however at some level, they are still kids. Not only that, kids who lived through the Dark Days, a large-scale war.
Shouldn't there be some psychological ramifications?
Without this emotional depth, I had nothing to grasp literarily, and I gradually lost sympathy and interest in the novel as a whole. How could an event that destroys lives and relationships in one novel mean almost nothing to characters in another? How could this victor walk away virtually unscathed in comparison to Katniss, Haymitch, Finnick, etc.? Something doesn't add up here.
In the trilogy, so. many. people. (including characters from the Capitol!) suffered burdens catalyzed by the Games. The victors and mentors most of all. When the cast surrounding the 10th Hunger Games failed to express anything genuine for more than five minutes, the titular motif and its stark impact on readers disintegrate.
personal feels: I will say, Ballad has reignited my excitement for the original trilogy. It turned me back into a crazy fanatic researching crackpot theories and rewatching movie clips on repeat. Moreover, as I was reading it, I was brought back to the experience of reading The Hunger Games right as the movies were coming out. That was such a fun time to be a reader and a fan, seeing my favorite characters brought to life every step of the way.
And that got me thinking...
Supposedly Ballad is going to be a movie as well, and the more I let my imagination wander, I believe a film could very well transform a mediocre book into a blockbuster story. Why?
1. Setting — We already know Panem can be done, and done right.
2. Dialogue — A good actor's nuance/body language could enliven arguably the best part of the novel and without all that descriptive filler.
3. Speed — Time limits would eliminate the nonsense and enhance the best action scenes.
4. Perspective — Broaden the story, humor, and emotional depth with other viewpoints, ironically like the movies did with President Snow himself.
Fingers crossed, Hollywood will ultimately save this story for me. Time will tell.
recommendation: Once is enough.
If you are a patient, die-hard fan of the trilogy, it's worth the nostalgic revisit to Panem, and a good reason to reread (or rewatch) the originals. You just might want to lower your expectations, though.
"The show's not over 'till the mockingjay sings."
— Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes by Suzanne Collins
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