The Girl Who Was on Fire (25 page)

When Katniss breaks free of the arena, President Snow tries to retaliate with what feels like the ultimate blow—he attempts to destroy Katniss’ community altogether by firebombing District 12. But even this horrible move seems to be too little, too late as Katniss’ family escapes the bombings and is rescued by the mysterious inhabitants of District 13.

Even though my heart ached for Peeta, knowing he was a prisoner of Snow, I have to admit that during the months between finishing
Catching Fire
and the release of
Mockingjay
I felt somewhat reassured that everything was going to turn out fine once Katniss and her rag-tag family of Gale, Haymitch, her mother, Prim, Finnick, and the other surviving tributes made it to District 13. In fact, in my outline for this essay (which was written a couple of months before
Mockingjay
was released) I actually wrote the description for this portion of the essay to “discuss what happens in book three as far as community is concerned (the community that has bonded together in District 13) and how they take down the Capitol.”

Part of me fully expected that Katniss would willingly take on her position as the Mockingjay, and with the help of the goodnatured community in District 13, they’d take on the Capitol, free Peeta in the process, and take down President Snow. Then Katniss, their beloved general, would be asked (much like George Washington) to become the new leader of the united districts! The task would be difficult, but because of her ability to create
community around her Katniss would be the perfect woman for the job—and the wonderful leaders of District 13 would help her do it.

Only once I opened the pages of
Mockingjay
, I discovered, along with Katniss, just how complicated the community in District 13 could be. What appears at first glance to be somewhat of a Utopian community that rose out of the ashes of the Capitol’s attack—running with precision and efficiency to meet the needs of its people—suddenly seems a bit off when you look at it more closely.

Maybe it is the way they stamp the characters’ not-to-bedeviated-from schedules on their arms, how everyone is called “soldier,” that their jobs are selected for them by the government, the stringent way they control food portions, the fact that no one is allowed onto the surface without permission, how their locations are constantly monitored, or how no one gathers for an event unless told to do so by the president. It can be claimed that all of this is done for everyone’s safety, to keep the community alive—and rightfully so—but at the same time, this just seems to be another way to rule by fear. By manipulation.

It slowly becomes very clear that President Coin is a tyrant in her own right—not as openly as President Snow, but perhaps even more insidiously. The first real clue of Coin’s true nature is the fact that Katniss’ prep team (part of her strange hodgepodge of a family) are treated like dangerous criminals—even animals—after they are kidnapped by the leaders of 13 to help with the Mockingjay propos. But I knew for sure that Coin was not to be trusted when Katniss has to fear that Peeta might be executed for his anti-rebellion speeches even though it is clear that he is being forced to participate against his will. This seemed
like another one of Coin’s manipulations—treat everyone like a threat to the citizens of 13, even their hero from the Hunger Games—and a great way to force Katniss to follow Coin’s plans in exchange for Peeta’s immunity.

Katniss poses a threat to both tyrannical leaders in Panem. However, while Snow attacks Katniss openly through trying to break her bond with Peeta—hijacking Peeta’s brain and attempting to destroy his love for her—Coin attacks Katniss through manipulating her bonds with her family (forcing her obedience in exchange for the immunity of her victor friends), and then attempting to dispose of her when she poses less of a threat as a dead martyr than as a living symbol.

But it isn’t until Katniss suspects that President Snow may be telling the truth about Coin’s alleged final manipulation—that she was the one who ordered the blowing up of the Capitol children and then the rebel medics (including Prim) who tried to help them, and then tried to pass it off as the Capitol who committed the offense—that the real worst tyrant may have been revealed. President Snow preys on the sensibilities of community with the idea that a barricade of children around his mansion would slow the onslaught of the rebel forces, since it would take someone truly depraved to kill children in order to get to him. It’s something the Mockingjay wouldn’t do—but Coin apparently would. Although it’s never confirmed that Coin is truly behind the bombing of the children, I believe this action is not only Coin’s final blow against the Capitol, but also the ultimate manipulation of her own people, and that sacrificing Prim in the middle of it—destroying one of Katniss’s deepest community connections—is meant to break Katniss.

And it almost does.

Honestly, I was angry at first by how broken Katniss was after the climax of the trilogy. I cheered when Katniss shot Coin through the heart for her alleged evil deed. But then I still expected Katniss to become the George Washington of Panem. I wanted her to vanquish the foe and then become the new leader of a new nation. But in the end, she is so broken it’s shocking ... although not surprising considering that most dystopian stories end with a dead or destroyed protagonist. Collins even tells us in that interview from
School Library Journal
that the story is based in part on the tragic tale of Spartacus:

Instead of killing Katniss, Collins, possibly following the lead of another ancient Roman war hero named Cincinnatus “who was called from his plow to rescue the republic and then returned to his fields after the danger had passed,”
²⁴
chooses to send Katniss back to the desolation of the demolished District 12. Katniss is left there alone, with only a drunken Haymitch for company, in a place where there seems to be nothing left for
her. No more ragtag family to rally around. Katniss has literally lost Prim, Finnick is dead, along with most of the members of the star squad, her mother and Gale have gone off to help with the transition of Panem, and Peeta’s once unwavering love seems to have been irreparably damaged by President Snow’s brainwashing.

While I was surprised by this turn of events, it feels fitting that the girl who should have never existed was sent back to the place that created her—a place that no longer exists, itself. It’s even more fitting that Peeta—the boy with the bread, the person who made the first connection to her all those years before when she was almost destroyed by the tyranny of the Capitol the first time—is the person who eventually returns to 12 to help her recover. Together, as part of her therapy, they work on her father’s book, expanding it with their own knowledge—communicating what they’ve learned in all the horror that could possibly save future generations from suffering as they did. As their bonds strengthen, they eventually create a new family. One strong enough to help rebuild the community of District 12 that once seemed lost forever. And if they can help it, one that will never be lost again.

The Hunger Games trilogy—what starts out as a tome depicting an example of ultimate totalitarian control—soon unravels into a possible morality tale for anyone with tyrannical aspirations, in which the concept of community is offered as the answer to overthrowing an oppressive regime. President Snow learns the hard way that any sense of true community must be stamped out in order for the dominant regime to remain in control. Overlooking the smallest act of community can light the spark that sets an entire neighborhood, or even nation, ablaze with feelings of brotherhood, sharing, and concern for the greater good. Even the weak, the broken, and the
seemingly incapable pose a serious risk to a leader who rules out of fear. And although President Coin understands the power of community, and learns to manipulate it to get what she wants, even she learns that she can only push it so far before it snaps back and destroys her as well. They are both undone by a boy with a loaf of bread and a girl with bow.

BREE DESPAIN
is the author of
The Dark Divine
,
The Lost Saint
, and an upcoming third novel in the Dark Divine trilogy. Bree rediscovered her childhood love for creating stories when she took a semester off college to write and direct plays for at-risk inner-city teens from Philadelphia and New York. She currently lives in Salt Lake City, Utah, with her husband, two young sons, and her beloved TiVo.

Many thanks to Dee Liou, Jody He, and Amy Murphy from Hunger Games Trilogy: Unofficial Fansite (
www.hungergamestrilogy.com
) for their assistance with the manuscript!