Hunger Games: the Book Review

This one’s on special request from Scarlett. Since I read the Hunger Games trilogy more than an year ago, I might miss out on some details. Bear with me on those.

I first heard of Hunger Games on some blog or on Goodreads. I can’t remember. There were people raving about it. Saying how it is one of the best things ever written but that had also been said about Twilight series. So, my scepticism was justified, I think.

Nonetheless, I was looking for a new author to try and I picked up Hunger Games  - the first book in the trilogy. The book opens with Katniss Everdeen trying to hunt game illegally with her best friend, the rather hunky Gale. It then proceeds to describe the covered with ash and coal dust District 12, with people toiling under an autocratic regime. A new class system has arrived in a post-apocalyptic  USA. District 12 is at the bottom of the food chain since it produces coal – that which cannot be eaten, worn or considered precious (no matter that in reality, it is perhaps one of the most precious commodities that we have).

So, the beginning is depressing but soon we come to the annual ‘lucky draw’ for Hunger Games. These games are like Roman fight-till-death arena meeting the voyeurism of modern day reality shows. These are held annually in Capitol, to remind the masses who the real bosses are, instituted after a revolt years ago, when the Capitol routed the districts, wiping District Thirteen from existence completely. Two Tributes from each of the remaining twelve districts – a boy and a girl between ages of 12 to 18 – are sent to Capitol to fight for their lives in a specially built arena that is changed every year and the entire contest is televised live. This is compulsory viewing and literally the last boy or girl standing wins.

Katniss’ innocent younger sister Primrose has the misfortune of having her name drawn and Katniss volunteers in her place. Going along with her is Peeta Mellark. As the spectacle before the game begins – there’s primping and styling like in a beauty pageant – and progresses to the blood and gore of desperate survival, you see both Katniss and Peeta growing in stature. They are not always likeable but they survive.

The games’ are described vividly – the tension, the desperation, the scheming, the hunger – all of it comes alive. I know that in recent times comparisons have been drawn between this trilogy and Twilight, primarily because of the obvious love triangles, but let me tell you Hunger Games is far edgier, ruthless, stark and gripping. And let’s not forget the characters. Katniss is no simpering, idiotic, perpetually damsel-in-distress that Bella is. Katniss is independent and human. She is not always right, focussed that she is on her own survival. She is not very astute either, unable to understand her own feelings or those of Peeta and Gale. But she is tough and needs no knight in shining armour though I like to think that she might like the idea of having one. For company.

Peeta and Gale are also real. Gale is more stereotyped as the good-looking, brave-heart guy who has fallen in love with his best friend. He also suffers from a slight martyr, I-am-the-hero syndrome, which can grate on nerves at times. Peeta, surprisingly, is the deepest of the three leading characters. He has heart but is not without cunning. At any point in time, it is his thoughts that I am most interested in. He is no knight. He is just a regular guy, who first chooses his destiny and then loses control over it.

The secondary characters like President Snow, the drunk and tormented mentor Haymitch, the startled kitten like Effie Trinket, Cinna, the stylist with a rebel’s soul, the heartbreaking youngest Tribute, Rue with whom Katniss forms first an alliance and then a true friendship – they are all drawn with detail and with bold strokes. None of them are subtle. Some of them more obvious than others and then suddenly, they could say something that completely takes you by surprise.

The first book, with its gripping climax, is the best. The end of the games really hooked me and I kept on arguing and counter-arguing as to how it would end.

If it has to be compared, compare it to Larsson’s Millennium trilogy. There are first very obvious difference. The stories are very distinct. Katniss’s world and her people are more humane somehow rather than Blomkvists and Erikas of Lisbeth’s Sweden. Plus, Katniss is not dysfunctional like Lisbeth. The similarity actually comes from how the first book in both trilogies are the best. They promise you so much more in the coming two books but then slowly unravel into a giant conspiracy theory. That is my biggest grouse with the series and I cannot explain more without putting in spoilers.

Collins’ books are, however, more coherent and each character has some role to play, unlike Larsson’s, who all become mere props to Lisbeth. And I have to hand it to Collins that she managed to keep me on tenterhooks about how the end would come. On the way, there are wars to be fought, machinations to be thwarted, heartbreak and insanity. No one emerges from the Games whole and they would never be whole again.

I was also impressed with Collins’ writing. The entire series is written in first person, present continuous tense. It is Katniss’ viewpoint. While I am not a big fan of first person narratives since it robs me of what other main characters are thinking, unless they speak out, I though Collins’ use of the technique was quite brilliant. You see the world not just the way Katniss sees it but also when she sees it.

My final recommendation: Read it. It is not always easy to read, the characters not always likeable but in the end, you have to admire them for sheer guts.

Dear Author, “What’s wrong with you?”

Inheritance, Book 4, Christopher  Paolini

I have just finished reading the fouth and final book in Christopher Paolini’s Inheritance / Eragon series. Finally. And boy, was it a chore! It is an extremely popular series and loads of people all round the world apparently love it. I don’t. I read the final book simply as an obligation.

There are several other wildly successful and loved books which I barely can tolerate and some I outright dislike. I know saying such things aloud is blasphemy (grins) but I think I would dedicate this post to such books / book series. The books are in no particular order and some may even have started out promisingly before crumbling into a heap of illogic, no resolutions and plain ol’ ‘get-it-over-already’.

• Twilight Series, Stephanie Meyer: Okay, don’t shoot me. Part I of the final book’s movie version, “Breaking Dawn” released earlier this week and is apparently generating mass hysteria and wild-eyed frenzy all over the world. I, for one, have difficulty understanding the lure. The first book starts off with an interesting plot. Girl moves to a new place, new school. Girl is attracted to a mysterious, good-looking class mate. Boy likes her back though he has a strange way of showing it. Turns out he is a vampire – a vegetarian vampire, if you will – and he tries to resist her because he wants to protect her from his kind. But it’s true love for Bella Swan and she is willing to sacrifice everything for him. After an abduction and rescue from another psychotic vampire, all’s well in their world. Okay, the girl – I can’t call her heroine, she has to display some guts for that – is plain insipid, whiny and clingy. Edward – the vampire hero - is intriguing and noble, the shining knights kind sans the armour. But it’s all a little different, so I like it. Then the horror starts in the second book. All of a sudden, you have vampire royalty threatening to kill our oh-so-delectable heroine. The werewolves come to party but there is just one problem – they are arch enemies of vampires. And then there’s Jacob, Bella’s best friend, who turns out to be a werewolf and in love with Bella. Guess, what happens next. In one truly cringeworthy and incredulous scene, Bella is camped out in snowy mountains with both the vampire and the werewolf – they are united in their goal to protect little Ms. Damsel-in-perpetual-danger. I can’t precisely remember why. And because she is freezing and her boyfriend Edward being vampire is cold to touch, she sleeps – literally – with Jacob to get warm and here’s the whopper, with Edward’s permission. He is a saint, ain’t he? But the final cake is taken by *spoiler ahead* when Jacob finds himself mated for life with Edward and Bella’s daughter literally the moment she is born and just like that the triangle becomes a weird set of parallel lines! “spoiler ends* 

• The Alchemist, Paulo Coelho: I read quite often how celebs cite this book as their favourite. A fabulous read which in a way opens their eyes to the truth of life. Me? I found it difficult to finish, despite its slim size and simple language. Because it moralizes. Preaches. And I hate that kind of tone. It reminds me of Moral Science lessons in school and I couldn’t stand the subject. At the end of every chapter, there is almost a moral of the story kind of lesson. It does have its moments though. I especially liked the concept of how the entire universe conspires to help you attain the one thing you truly desire. The story is simple but pretentious – a feat that I have not seen many authors accomplish and I am not too sure that I like it.

•  Eragon / Inheritance Series, Christopher Paolini: I just couldn't get over how ambitious it tried to be while finding its inspiration in two exceptional and unparalleled worlds that Rowling and J.R.R Tolkien created. The quest to defeat an all pervasive evil ruler - Galbatorix - with the help of various magical species from elves to dwarves and dragons (the last alone were a new addition to this world) seems like a pale imitation of the epic battle that Aragorn (see how even the name is similar), Frondo, Gandalf and others wage against Sauron in Lord of the Rings. In fact, there is a hint of Hunger Games also in the last throes of the book.  And Eragon is no epic hero. The secondary characters like Roran, Nasauda and Murtagh are more interesting. In fact, it is one of my peeves that Paolini leaves so much unresolved when it comes to these people.  Eragon is insipid and is only a circumstantial hero. He would have been very ordinary if a dragon had not hatched for him. He whines quite a lot. He has no true ties except with Saphira, his dragon. He pines for Arya, the elf but never has the courage to speak to her freely. Roran, on the other hand, is a self-made hero. Here is a man, a hero who wins his battles through sheer courage, ingenuity and wit, without magic. A true master of his fate. This holds true of Nasauda too. A young girl, barely older than Eragon, she leads an epic army into a war against the greatest evil. She has no magic in her. But she is gritty, a great strategist and an astute leader. She has her moments of vanity and regret but they quickly pass. And Muratgh! I wish Paolini had taken more time and effort to sketch that particular strain. Even Galbatorix - when we finally - see him comes across as quite ordinary for a villain competing with the likes of Voldemort or Sauron. Trust me when I say that the climax was quite anti-climactic. Plus, the book could have been half in length. 

•  Books by Chetan Bhagat: I have read two and have no intention of reading others. At least, not because I want to. It could be because my sister has bought one and for the lack of anything better I do so. I have read One Night at Call Centre and Three Mistakes of my Life. If I were to write about all the things I dislike about his books, I would never stop. But for starters how about the stories themselves, which are like bad Bollywood potboilers in English. Phone call from God, anyone? And what about romancing best friend’s sister and sleeping with her on the terrace? That’s certainly original. Then there’s the writing style and language. Which is not too bad, if you were a seventh standard student writing in school magazine. Then it would have shown potential. I know a lot of people like his books especially because the language is everyday, simple English but I would direct them to the inimitable R. K. Narayan to see how the same tool can be used to greater and beautiful effect. 

• A House for Mr. Biswas, V. S. Naipual: No! I can see you gasping in horror. It is a classic. Critically acclaimed. A literary gem. Sorry, I didn’t like it. I felt no empathy for Mr. Biswas or his miserable little quest for a house. And not because his life has no grandeur of an epic or the shine, no matter how brittle, of a posh sophisticated society. Simply because, his character seems like one drawn out torture with no little moments of happiness at all. If you have read the great Hindi author Premchand, you would see what I am talking about. he also writes about the common man – the farmer, the daily labourer, the shepherd – but there are moments in his stories, even when they end tragically, where the characters see hope and for a shining instant, all’s well with the world. Naipual’s book lacks that. 

That’s it for now. There are some others that I could talk about but I see the length of my post and realize that it is a potential sleeping drug. :-) 

But I would love to hear about books that you did not like and then we can compare notes.

Until then, ciao.

Twilight

I stand atop the small sand dune that slopes down towards the rumbling sea. I take a deep breath, close my eyes and feel a smile blooming within me.

I start walking towards the sea. The sun is a big ball of beautiful fire, slowly sinking into the churning waters. The sky has so many shades of pink, red and crimson tinting the delicate blue. It reminds me of a wish a friend once made. I want curtains of exact that colour. Today, I want them too.

I reach the sea and the first waves eagerly welcome me. I delight in their embrace, the sensation of the earth slipping out from between my toes. My eyes sweep the beach. I am alone. I like this solitude. This world at this moment belongs to me. The sea, the sun, the evening – everything. I am greedy and not willing to share it with anyone else.

For some moments, I stand still, absorbing the beauty of the seascape, trying to see beyond the horizon and to scoop out a bit of the crimson glory out of the sun on my fingertip. I give up a little later and turn to walk aimlessly along the sea.

As I walk, I can hear in my head the melody of a song, the rhythm of an Iktara. I smile and hum it slowly under my breath, letting the breeze carry my voice over the waves. Almost like a message in a bottle. Maybe it would reach some distant shores and an answering song would come dancing. Pure fantasy, some may say. But who decides what is real and what is fanciful.

Coming across a partially embedded conch shell, I stoop and dig it out, even as the mischievous waves attempt to steal it out of my gritty fingers. I finally hold it in my palm and let out a small whoop of joy. A little further on, I see a crab scuttling towards me. I take a frightened step back, only to realize that it does not seek to bite me. It only seeks to go to its hiding hole, close to my feet. I shake my head at my own fear and decide to continue.

There is a lighthouse that I can see in the distance. It does not look too far. But I know that that could simply be the result of optical illusion. It does not matter, though. I have this evening and the night to come. All of it my own. For the first time. And who knows it may be the last.

I shall not turn back, I resolve. And continue my not-quite-aimless meander towards that beacon, as the evening began to gather the last vestiges of twilight in her arms, to make way for my favourite silver Enchantress.

And Iktara continues to play, silently, ceaselessly.....

Booked and Shot

Bollywood adaptation of Jane Austen’s Emma hit the theatres recently. Christened “Aisha”, it met with rave reviews about the styling and clothes and not so hot feedback about the story, the screenplay, the dialogues etc.

I wanted to see the movie but it was an extremely busy, nerve-wrecking month at work and I didn't get the chance. So, now I will watch it on DVD sometime.

But it got me thinking about movie adaptations of books. Being a bookaholic, I generally find that movies do not live up to the book. In some cases, though, the movies make the book better.

So, I list here books that I thought were better as films and some which, I think, were unjustly treated by the filmmaker.

First, the good list:

Harry Potter 4, 5 and 6: 

I love JK Rowling’s world and the characters. But the fourth book onwards, I was seriously beginning to question where she was going with the story. Goblet of Fire had the endless Quidditch World Cup while Order of Phoenix and Half Blood Prince had some key characters being killed in what seemed like writer’s whimsy. The movie adaptations, on the other hand, got straight to the heart of the story. The amazing visual effects did not hurt either. Remember the underground lake sequence in the movie version of Half Blood Prince, where Dumbledore and Harry are standing on this slab of rock with a wild sea lashing around them? Breathtaking. Really.

Lord of the Rings Trilogy: 

I do not know how many people have read Tolkien’s epic work. It’s a fascinating world he creates but sometimes he gets so involved in the routine chores of Hobbits or the history of Middle Earth that he forgets that he is also telling a story. Peter Jackson’s movie adaptation, however, is flawless. From the stunning visuals shot in the harsh New Zealand winters to the wheezy, nasal tone of Gollum’s voice to Viggo Mortensen’s Aragorn to the magnificence of Ents in an action sequence, the movies are a visual treat. The story is full of adventure and action, with nary the time to breathe between sequences. The tedium of endless descriptions that mar the book has been ruthlessly cut out of the movie. Three of the best fantasy movies I have ever seen.

Comedy of Errors: 

I have said this before. I am not very fond of Shakespeare. But Comedy of Errors is brought to hilarious life by Gulzar in Angoor. The movie, like the play, revolves around two sets of twins separated at birth and how when their paths unwittingly cross many years later, funny mayhem ensues. Sanjeev Kumar and Deven Verma are excellent in their respective double roles. If you have not watched the movie, you are missing out on a great weekend, time-pass movie.

Othello: 

It’s remarkable how some of the best Shakespearean adaptations are conceived and brought to stunning fruition by Indian directors. Vishal Bhardwaj, Gulzar’s protégé, created a gem in Omkara, an adaptation of Othello. A stellar ensemble cast ensured that the movie had great performances. Particularly memorable was Saif Ali Khan as Langda Tyagi, the Indian Iago. However, the true heroes of the movie were Vishal Bhardwaj’s story, direction and music. Set in the hinterland of North India, the film has the rustic twang and flavor in every dialogue, note and gesture.

Coming to movie adaptations that are most definitely not in my good books:

Pride and Prejudice: 

This book has perhaps spawned more adaptations, sequels, prequels and ancillary works than any other. It is also one of the greatest romances and my favourite book. That is why Gurinder Chaddha’s blasphemy named Bride and Prejudice made me really mad. Aishwarya Rai, one of the biggest non-actors we have, was cast as the vivacious Elizabeth Bennet. Rai looked haggard, listless and totally unsuited as the “not handsome enough to tempt” but intelligent and charming heroine of Austen’s masterpiece. A chatty Darcy and Indian Lydia’s snake dance must have had Ms. Austen turning in her grave. It was so bad that I had to get up in the middle of the movie. It makes the Keira Knightley version look like a work of art. Seriously, Ms. Chaddha, what were you thinking?

The Devil Wears Prada: 

Yeah, yeah, I know. The movie won great reviews. Meryl Streep as Miranda Priestley was sheer genius etc. etc. The book however, is far better. It captures the travails and tribulations of Andrea’s life in a more captivating manner. The dialogues are witty. The situations are humorous and poignant at the same time. While we all may not work at a big fashion magazine, don’t we all identify with Andrea’s helplessness, frustration and feeling of being permanently sapped? I know I do. Somehow, the movie did not make me feel the same. No doubt, Meryl Streep was amazing. The softly spoken words laced with heavy, authoritarian sarcasm that could cut you to pieces with such flair. The style diva with I-am-the-queen-of-all-I-survey attitude. That is why the slight smile of acknowledgement that Streep gives to Anne Hathaway / Andrea at the end seems so out of character and made me put the movie in this particular list.

Sense and Sensibility: 

Yet another Jane Austen novel that lost its essence on the silver screen. Emma Thompson as young Elinor Dashwood was something of a stretch. I have never understood the tendency of filmmakers to overlook the suitability of an actor to a role. Good acting skills are necessary but the actor also has to look the part. So, explain to me how Emma Thompson could play nineteen year old Elinor. Plus, her romance with Hugh Grant lacked chemistry. So, despite perfectly casting beautiful Kate Winslet as Marianne and Alan Rickman as the much older Colonel Brandon, the movie does not match up to the book.

The Bourne Identity: 

I am quite fond of Matt Damon but I do not quite see him as a deadly assassin who is the protagonist of Ludlum’s famous trilogy. Plus, the movie did not follow the book, taking one cinematic liberty too many and to someone who has read the book, it is quite disconcerting. So much so, I fruitlessly kept on trying to link the events in the book with the movie until I got fed up of the movie. Definitely a better book than movie.

Twilight: 

I have read the entire series. It starts with an interesting premise and degenerates into a near nonsensical, irritating and weird love triangle with a weirder climax. So, how difficult could it have been to better the book? Not too much, we can assume. But the movie fails. Let me count the reasons. One, Robert Pattinson’s make-up. He wore more of it than the entire female cast, including Kristen Stewart. Second, Robert Pattinson and Kristen Stewart’s as the lead actors. He only stared out of a pasty white face and she cowered, cringed and stared back. There’s more to acting than that. Third, the real-life couple is completely devoid of any smouldering passion or spark on-screen. Stephanie Meyers’ best seller needed a sizzling onscreen couple. Well as sizzling a cold vampire can be. I actually preferred RPatz in the small role of Cedric Diggory in Goblet of Fire.

The Da Vinci Code: 

This is probably the only book for which Dan Brown would be remembered. It is riveting, informative, action packed and peopled with great characters. Robert Langdon is an unlikely and unconventional hero but he is likeable and believable (as an aside, I would not recommend the other two books that star him, especially The Lost Symbol). The movie adaptation has a rather unfit looking, middle aged Tom Hanks playing Langdon, who despite being in his mid-forties is quite athletic. Plus, the movie assumes that all its viewers would have had read the book. The screenplay was difficult to follow, with cryptic flashbacks and narrations. The discoveries and revelations which make the book fascinating looked cumbersome and labored on the silver screen. I was so disappointed with the movie that I skipped the big screen adaptation of the prequel,  Angels and Demons.

Little Women: 

The movie clubbed Alcott’s first novel about the March family with the second one, Good Wives, ending up with a mish mash of events that do no justice to this charming little saga. Winona Ryder as Jo march was a little too charming and pretty while Professor Bhaer looked too old (I maybe a little biased, since I  wanted her to marry Laurie). Somehow, the movie did not portray the quiet dignity, the simple joys and the delightful quirks of the Marches that we all know and love. 

Guide: 

You are puzzled, right? And you think I must have lost my marbles to put on this list Chetan Anand’s critically acclaimed masterpiece. The movie had timeless music, great story and the unlikely pair of Dev Anand and Waheeda Rehman playing Raju, the titular guide and Rosie. So, why is this movie here? Simply because it fails to match the pathos and humour of RK Narayan’s lucid prose and storytelling. Raju of the book has my sympathy despite his betrayal of Rosie. Raju of the movie comes across as a scoundrel despite Rosie attempts to forgive him. Dev Anand with all his sauciness and charming ways somehow was not convincing enough as Raju.

There are books that I strongly disliked and therefore steered clear of their movie versions. Leading the pack is Chetan Bhagat’s One Night @ Call Centre. Its movie version is an atrocity called Hello. Since I found the book pretentious and amateurish, I did not care what the movie turned out to be like.

Then there are books which I found interesting despite not particularly liking the author’s pedantic ways. Midnight’s Children is one such book. I hear Deepa Mehta is working on a movie version of the same. I think the outcome would be quite intriguing to see. I am also looking forward to Harry Potter and Deathly Hallows, Part I & II.  Actually I can hardly wait for them.

On that note, I bid adieu. Until next time.