Risk and Reward

I might as well rename my contemporary literature class, and call it something like "humanity at its worst".  The course description would read something like this: "explore the very worst regions of possible human experience through literature--cannibalism, rape, suicide, infanticide, starvation and more!"
What sort of teacher am I to drag my students through the monstrous, mysterious, post-apocalyptic world of The Road, only to follow it with The Kite Runner, a book so heart-breakingly shame-soaked it's infuriating at times?  Well, the thing is, I'm not actually dragging them; they're enthusiastically charging ahead at full speed.
My original idea for the second half of this class was to focus on the theme of coping with disaster, beginning with Life of Pi, then The Hunger Games, and following up with the books mentioned above.  I expected The Road and The Kite Runner to be challenges, the former for its bleak, spare narrative style and shocking content, and the later for its drawn-out emotional story telling and foreign-ness.  I realize now, however, that I had not given much consideration to the agony, the darkness and depravity in which we would be miring ourselves for a whole quarter.
Would I change it now if I could?  No way.  Once again, my students have shown me that they are not to be underestimated.  As 17 and 18-year-olds they are ready for this stuff, actually hungry for it.   They're hungry for some serious conversation and for a brutally honest writer like Cormac McCarthy to balance out the romanticizing of young adult literature like The Hunger Games.  I've seen more visceral reactions to these books among my students than I could have ever anticipated.  They have cared about these characters, placed themselves in their shoes and really thought about what it would mean to lose everything they cared about.
So, I guess what I'm getting at here is that I'm grateful to my students for taking this challenge and running with it.  I'm grateful for writers like Yann Martel, Cormac McCarthy, Suzanne Collins, and Khaled Hosseini.  I'm grateful for the opportunity I have as a teacher to spend my time connecting these young people with these books.  After my experiences this semester, I will always be willing to stand up for teachers who are willing to take intelligent risks in the face of censorship and thoughtless standardization.

NY Times Article on The Hunger Games

This article asks a great question, who is the audience for The Hunger Games?  It's complicated to answer, and demonstrates a fascinating development in the book-to-movie world.  Also, at the end, writer Pamela Paul compares HG to Star Wars:  


"Mr. Levithan also likens “The Hunger Games” to the 1977 demographic-defying “Star Wars,” another teenager-against-the-world (or universe) film. “To say that ‘The Hunger Games’ is a teen movie is like saying ‘Star Wars’ is a teen movie because it involves a teenager,” Mr. Levithan argued."

The Hunger Games part 2: Pandemonium & Myth

It's Hunger Games mania at school right now!  We had a haphazard Hunger Games book club meeting at lunch, which involved a lot of "what's your favorite part" and "who would you be" type discussions.  The poor representative from our yearbook publisher walked into the middle of an intense Gale vs. Peeta argument in my publications class, and got a lot of  "Oh my God, you haven't read it!  You have to read it!"
It's a phenomenon.  Every morning I'm getting updates like, "I stayed up until one in the morning to finish Catching Fire!"  It's affecting students' performance in their other classes, because I'm also getting periodic updates like, "I read chapter 12 in band, and I can't believe..."  I feel like I've betrayed the college prep English teacher, who just assigned Crime and Punishment.  Many students will not have the first 100 pages read by Friday.
That said, here's the post I was planning on writing.  One aspect of The Hunger Games that I love is how Collins has created a story where a classic heroine is placed in a conflict that is so relevant to contemporary society.  To explain, I'll have to employ a Star Wars metaphor via Joseph Campbell.
In The Power of Myth, Campbell discusses Darth Vader, saying that he is "living not in terms of himself but in terms of an imposed system.  This is the threat to our lives that we all face today...How do you relate to the system so that you are not compulsively serving it?"  Campbell's answer to his own question: "By holding to your own ideals for yourself and, like Luke Skywalker, rejecting the system's impersonal claims upon you."
So, what does Campbell mean by "the system"?  We all have institutions vying for our loyalty and imposing systems on us--government, religion, workplace, school--and we all make decisions about how we will go about being an individual in relation to these institutions.  To paraphrase Campbell, our challenge is to find how we, as individuals, can use the system to benefit ourselves and others, instead of being consumed by it.
Katniss is slow to figure out where she stands in relationship to the system, the institutions of Panem and, later, of District 13.  She did not intend to become the leader of a revolution, but she eventually accepts her role.  She accepts it on her own terms, though, and never fully gives herself to the politicians and masterminds behind the revolution.  Her ultimate act of autonomy is the murder of President Coin.
So, if myths are metaphors for the journey of ordinary life, what are we to take from this?  We could start by asking ourselves if we are using the system or if it is using us.  Of course, what "the system" means to each of us will be different.
There is also the consideration of the community.  Heroes are not selfish.  Their victories are supposed to benefit others, as well.  Theseus, though he certainly had fame and fortune on his mind, slew the Cretan Minotaur to end the sacrificial slaughtering of Athenian youths.  Sound like a familiar scenario?  To facilitate this discussion, my contemporary literature class watched Jim Henson's version of the tale.  (Full disclosure, I got this idea from Wikipedia.)  We also charted Katniss' journey according to Campbell's model, which is here in simplified form.  We also discussed comparisons to The Iliad, Lord of the Rings, and others.
I feel like I'm gushing over The Hunger Games, perhaps exaggerating it's quality.  I don't know, I guess time will tell as far as that goes.

The Hunger Games part 1: Politics

I'm excited for the Hunger Games movie, and I'm not alone.  Yes, I'm a bit concerned the hype might overwhelm it, so I'm not paying too much attention.  Why am I so excited?  Isn't this just another teen action/romance series?  Yes and no.  Most of my students who have read The Hunger Games love it.  Many of them, mostly girls, have devoured the entire trilogy within a week or two.  Some guys, however, are not going to go for a book with a female narrator who's torn between two guys, even if she is shooting explosive arrows at hovercraft.  This trilogy is so much more than a post-apocalyptic love triangle, though.  Suzanne Collins has packed a lot of social criticism into these deceptively easy reads, and they serve as a wide open door into some great conversations.

First of all, there are the obvious parallels between the rebellion against Panem and the Arab Spring of 2011, as well as the Occupy movement.  When I brought this up, I was surprised to find out many students knew little-to-nothing about Tunisia or Tahrir Square, let alone the 99%.  The fictional revolution and the real ones certainly have similarities, but probably more differences.  While both the real world protestors and the revolutionaries of the Hunger Games utilized civil disobedience, the real people have been much more democratic in their methods.  There is currently no equivalent to President Coin, no single group masterminding the Arab Spring or the Occupy movement.  There's also no Katniss in the real world, not this time around.  The socialist revolutionaries of the previous century certainly had their emblematic figureheads, and characters like Haymitch are hellbent on turning Katniss into a Che Guevara.  Unlike Che, though, she is naive and usually motivated by her drive to save only her loved ones.  Only in climactic moments of clarity does Katniss see outside her small sphere of concern to realize the bigger game in which she is an unlikely player (i.e. the berries and the forcefield).

Another important social criticism seething between the lines has to do with media manipulation.  In Collins' future world, the revolution must be televised (RIP Mr. Heron).  The government of Panem uses what we now call "reality television" to control the masses through the Hunger Games.  The rebels  utilize the same platform to begin their revolution, using the Quarter Quell, and the popular heroes gathered therein, as their springboard.  Then, they continue to build support for their cause by broadcasting Katniss' contrived forays into the war.  Through these experiences, she realizes the influence she has due to her heroic status in the hearts of the populace.  This hero status is, of course, based on her performances in the Hunger Games, a media event.  The question I find myself asking is, "could this book have been written before Survivor?"  I don't think so.  The Hunger Games is a uniquely contemporary invention, and ingeniously so.

So, there they are, two parallels to our own society.  But what is Collins saying about them?  I think that's a rather complicated question to answer, which is something I love about these books.  Her fictional revolution, while seemingly well-intentioned, has a serious dark side.  There's Coin, the Stalin-like, would-be president who gets murdered by the hero before she has the chance to assume total power.  Then there's Haymitch and Plutarch Heavensbee, supposed good guys who carry out a program of coercion and manipulation to accomplish the takedown of Panem, and for whom the ends certainly justify the means.  District 13 itself seems like a somewhat more friendly version of Panem, one that dehumanizes by means of schedules and uniforms, rather than by violence and intimidation.

So, is Collins telling us to be wary of politicians?  Is this a cautionary tale for would-be revolutionaries, warning them to be careful of repeating history and  putting another Napoleon or Caesar in power?  (All the character names from The Tragedy of Julius Caesar were not lost on my sophomores.)  Or is this a hero story of a more mythological type?  Is Katniss another Theseus saving her people from the Minotaur?  Is her journey a metaphor for our own?