There’s a frenzy surrounding the blockbuster film and book The Hunger Games. But the fan attention around the movie has taken a decidedly different turn from the fervor the book caused. The schism originates from the difference between reading — where one’s visual images of characters can be both personal and individual — and watching — where the film’s visual images of characters are a literal representation. The film script follows the book closely and some of fans are apoplectic. The result is a tweeting tsunami of racist comments focusing on the presence of the few main black characters in the film.
Here are just a few of the racist tweets that have gone viral:
- “why does rue have to be black not gonna lie kinda ruined the movie.”
- “Kk call me racist but when I found out Rue was black her death wasn’t as sad.
- “why did the producer make all the good characters black.”
- “Awkward moment when Rue is some black girl and not the little blonde innocent girl you pictured.”
Sadly, there are more vile tweets, some employing the “n-word,” that have been collected on a Tumblr page called Hunger Games Tweets.
Lionsgate, the distributor of The Hunger Games issued a statement praising fans who spoke out against the racist tweets, saying, “We applaud and support their action.”
Gay rights activist and actor George Hosato Takei who’s best known for his role as Hikaru Sulu, helmsman of the USS Enterprise in the television series Star Trek, responded to these racist tweets stating, “Some fans outraged that blacks cast in Hunger Games roles. Teens killing each other in futuristic arenas, and they care about what color?”
There are several salient themes both in the book and film, but race is not one of them. While I won’t say this dystopic tale is post-racial, the author’s, Suzanne Collins, treatment of race is both honest and nuanced.
In April of 2011, Suzanne Collins told Entertainment Weekly that her characters “…were not particularly intended to be biracial. It is a time period where hundreds of years have passed from now. There’s been a lot of ethnic mixing. But I think I describe them as having dark hair, grey eyes, and sort of olive skin. …But then there are some characters in the book who are more specifically described.” Thresh and Rue. Collins said, “They’re African-American.”
And the characters Rue, Thresh, and Cinna are played in the film by African American actors, Amandla Stenberg, Dayo Okeniyi and Lenny Kravitz, respectively. Whereas Cinna’s skin hue is not mentioned in the book, Rue’s and Thresh’s are both explicitly depicted as having “dark skin.”
In describing the character Rue in the novel Collins writes, “And most hauntingly, a twelve-year-old girl from District 11. She has dark brown skin and eyes, but other than that, she’s very like Prim in size and demeanor.” Prim is the protagonist’s, Katniss Everdeen, sister. I surmise since Prim is white and Rue is being compared to her many fans expected the same, ignoring what’s stated explicitly in the text.
And in describing Thresh Collins writes, “The boy tribute from District 11, Thresh, has the same dark skin as Rue, but the resemblance stops there. He’s one of the giants, probably six and half feet tall and built like an ox. “
Collins could have never imagined this sort of reaction to her non-white characters, yet it highlights resoundingly the lack of cultural and ethnic diversity in children and young adult literature.
Data analyzed by the University of Wisconsin-Madison’s Cooperative Children’s Book Center in 2010 found that only nine per cent of the three thousand four hundred children’s books published that year contained significant cultural or ethnic diversity.
With the paucity of cultural and ethnic diversity in children and young adult literature, white characters and white culture become an expectation and literary norm that is both learned and internalized by white children as well as children of color.
“People very often talk about literacy with words, but there’s such a thing as visual and thematic literacy,” says Deborah Pope, the executive director of the Ezra Jack Keats Foundation, which encourages diversity in kids’ books. “I think some of these young people just didn’t really read the book.”
While I agree with Pope that the fans who unabashedly expressed their racist views either didn’t read the book or didn’t read it carefully the theme and symbol of innocence and love in an inherently corrupt dystopic world affixed to a black 12-year old girl as Collins does with her character Rue in The Hunger Games is neither commonly nor comfortably seen in our world.
Do writers for children and young adult literature have a responsibility to be more explicit when introducing non-white characters in their books?
Or would being more explicit when introducing non-white characters play into a racist assumption that literary characters are white unless otherwise stated?
An easy answer would be to publish, to distribute, and to make part of core curriculum reading authors of color for children and young adults. Otherwise, this outpouring of racist tweets we see with The Hunger Games will merely be the tip of the iceberg.




20 Comments


Maybe it’s an American thing since it didn’t seem to happen with the Harry Potter movies. One character, Lavender Brown, even changed races.
“Do writers for children and young adult literature have a responsibility to be more explicit when introducing non-white characters in their books?”
I would say that writers need to have more non-white characters as a rule. Change the expectation by keeping the readers on their toes.
Author Suzanne Collins did her due dilligence, it’s clear as plain as day: “She has dark brown skin and eyes”, and “Thresh, has the same dark skin as Rue”.
I have seen authors from time to time remind us of skin color when it worked for the story, but that definitely assumes the racist assumption you mentioned.
I agree with Deborah Pope, the executive director of the Ezra Jack Keats Foundation, when she said, “I think some of these young people just didn’t really read the book.”
I thought this twet was interesting, “why did the producer make all the good characters black?” I haven’t read the book or seen the picture, but I am intrigued that in that writer’s opinion the ‘good characters’ were the non-whites.
Actually there was something very much like this with the character of Blaise Zabini.
Larry Niven carried that theme all through his “Known Universe” library. Teela Brown, Louis Wu, all of humanity in fact is described as “brown” or “bronze”. There isn’t a lot of stereotypical racial characteristics as humanity has evolved into a fairly homogenous single race. I look forward to that future, (not least because racist assholes will be a thing of the past!), and I wish I could be around to enjoy it. Sadly, people will just find other reasons to hate one another.
I never understood the appeal of the book. It was awfully contrived, as if the author made a list of everything that might make it a best seller a la the Harry Potter series and then proceeded shoehorning it all into the book. The protagonist advises her sibling to be sure and study for school when they both lead a hand-to-mouth existence in a post-apocalyptic world? Fucking please! It was worse than contrived.
But what really got me was that instead of offering a critique of violence as it claimed, the book was a celebration of violence, a regular fascist heroes tale. “The Hunger Games” occupies the same sociopolitical space as “300″ and “V for Vendetta.” I would have been surprised if such a book didn’t push racist buttons when it got to the screen.
“Do writers for children and young adult literature have a responsibility to be more explicit when introducing non-white characters in their books?
Or would being more explicit when introducing non-white characters play into a racist assumption that literary characters are white unless otherwise stated?”
To the first question, I remember my Buddhist organization hosting a racial healing conference (I think there was a book by that name). One of the things that I remember talking about during that conference was that unless the character is clearly identified as black or non-white I automatically assume the character is white. In fact, when a character is later identified as a person of color, it’s pretty jolting because up to that point I’m assuming they’re white.
While we need more diversity in literature, particularly youth literature, it should be done as a matter of course rather than to provide some sort of racial lesson. What I mean is that if a character is black, make them black. But if you’re making them black to enlighten young minds, I don’t know if that’s the way to go.
To the last question, being more explicit might play into the racist assumption that you and I have stated. It’s tricky because we need more diverse characters to shatter stereotypes but at the same time we might be accused of injecting race to “indoctrinate” kids – a charge hurled at writers of children’s stories that include gay characters.
There’s no easy answer, because we tend to see things in racial terms. Perhaps these kids should take occasional breaks from Twitter and educate themselves a little bit. Then again how will they ever be educated if they aren’t confronted with their own prejudices – especially when the utility is their beloved novel. Visibility both shatters stereotypes while inciting charges of indoctrination. It’s tricky. I don’t think I answered the questions though.
“It is a time period where hundreds of years have passed from now. There’s been a lot of ethnic mixing. But I think I describe them as having dark hair, grey eyes, and sort of olive skin.”
What? The future? People from Africa, Europe and the Americas have been fucking each other in this hemisphere for at least the last 500 years. Bullshit. My money is on Collins describing the characters in this way for the same reason that almost every Black female character on TV and movies is light skinned. “Hunger Games” was about making money, not about pushing boundaries, which it instead reaffirmed.
I suspect that many of them in fact did read the book, but that the cultural assumption of whiteness overrode the words their eyes saw. It is part of the “expectation and literary norm that is both learned and internalized by white children as well as children of color” that Monroe so appropriately mentioned.
I’ve never read the book, but in the film version I wondered why Rue didn’t yell, “It’s a trap!” OTOH the fact she was in that net alive indicated it was obviously a trap.
To ottogrendel:
If you’d read any of her other work (see the Gregor the Overlander series) you’d know that the Hunger Games series was right in line with her work stylistically. She wasn’t just throwing things at the wall and hoping something would stick.
More importantly, you completely misinterpret two important pieces of the story. Since Katniss’s father died, she has had to be the leader of her family. Her mother was incapable and her sister was too young. She was always the strong one. When she volunteered for the Hunger Games, that was another example of her doing what had to be done to help her family. When she told her sister to work hard in school, etc, don’t think of it as an important piece of advice, per se, so much as Katniss trying to be stoic. She (and everyone else) knew that she was going to die and she was trying only to remain strong for her mother and sister. If you treat characters like real people with real motivations, it becomes much more clear why they act how they do.
So far as the violence goes, you again misunderstand. A large quantity of violence is not the same as the glorification of violence. The characters who you are supposed to sympathize with (namely Katniss, Peeta and Rue) abhor the violence. They all know that the violence is in place as a way to keep the Districts in check–to remind them of the control the Capital has over them, so much that the Capital can force the children of the Districts to fight to the death annually. Indeed, the final obstacle Katniss must overcome is that the Capital demands that only one Tribute may survive, while she refuses to kill Peeta. When Katniss and Peeta nearly commit double suicide rather than having to fight each other, it is a great affront to the Capital because they were no longer willing to fight for their amusement. The violence is forced upon the characters by the Capital. It is absolutely not a “fascist heroes tale,” as you put it. It is emphatically the opposite: the series is about the power a committed group of individuals can wield against a fascist state with seemingly limitless power.
(Edited for spelling and a missed word)
I understand your points and synopsis here, which is an apt description of the book on its face. But there is something different that is conveyed beneath this pretense. Like a “reality show” where filming someone with a rare disease lets the audience gawk as if they were at a freak show while superficially feigning sympathy, “The Hunger Games” allows one to pretend a condemnation of violence while finding its depiction fascinating. If this constitutes a critique of violence, it is one of the weakest I have read.
“The characters who you are supposed to sympathize with (namely Katniss, Peeta and Rue) abhor the violence.” And yet the author has them participate nonetheless. There are no other options than violence. This actually displays the duplicity, however honest and unconscious as it may be, I’m suggesting: One thing is said while action is to the contrary.
“V for Vendetta” is an excellent recent example of how this works. It pretends to provide an anarchist counterpoint to fascism, but actually reinforces the antidemocratic, violent, authoritarian power it’s protagonist is supposed to oppose–ye gods! V tortures his protege with the implication that it was for her own good.
Slavoj Zizek articulates this phenomenon much better than I can for another movie: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wiTum8eQ51E
And I don’t think Collins was just throwing things at the wall to see what would stick. On the contrary, I think her choices were calculated to push the right field-tested, PG-13, mass market buttons. That’s why I think the be-sure-to-go-to-school message is so jarring and out of place for the world she created–and say no to drugs while you’re at it. Ah, safe, predictable and acceptable. No artistic envelopes were pushed by Collins. Nothing socially unacceptable in US culture was challenged. Well, you don’t sell a lot of books or movies that way. If Katniss had been an explicitly ethnic “other” who responded to the Games and the state by emulating Thich Quang Duc, I would be convinced of your interpretation.
Plus, it was just poorly written.
I’m not sure Zizek is the best example to follow if you’re claiming to want an anti-authoritarian approach. Except maybe (ironically) in the sense of how people who argue like you (i.e. only fluffy liberalism can ever count as non-fascist) are described by Zizek at every turn as the consummate defenders of neoliberal consumer-capitalist authoritarianism.
I made no claim to such a want. I suggested that “The Hunger Games” reinforces the opposite of what it pretends to regarding violence.
“Fluffy liberalism” as the antithesis of fascism is likewise not my position, but instead your assumption. Liberalism and fascism are often both reactions to the same unfulfilled desires and as such are two sides of the same coin, as you mention Zizek points out. I don’t have an ideological penchant for either.
Do you have any ideas for understanding “The Hunger Games” or popular response to it that isn’t an ad hominem rebuttal?
This is not my most important point by a long stretch, but you’re the first person I’ve ever see refer to it as poorly written. Makes me wonder what it is that you read…
The fact that the characters are forced to participate is precisely why it works as a critique. If they weren’t forced to participate, the message would be completely different (there are, of course, many options depending on the specifics of the plot choices). The fact that the characters were put into a situation that requires them to act violently to ensure their survival is precisely how we see characters wrestling with issues of morality. Katniss thinks about how killing a person is exactly like killing an animal, but simultaneously considers the fact that it’s clearly different. In District 12, she hunts to stay alive. In the arena, she hunts to stay alive. The novel asks you to consider the similarities and differences and the moral choices of each. Additionally, it leads one to wonder what it takes for this barbaric ritual to be continued and what it takes to put an end to tyranny. In many, many ways, it’s a more modern and youth-oriented update to Jackson’s “The Lottery.”
If characters weren’t coerced to participate, it would be a different story entirely. I’m not sure what lens you’re reading this through…
(And, on a related but separate note, as an 8th grade CA teacher, I have spent three years discussing these books with my students and they are an excellent series for getting reluctant readers to dig deep into literature and ask the big questions.)
I found it poorly written and contrived. I understand that I may be alone in that assessment, but a divergent majority opinion does not get me to like it any more, nor does it offer a sufficient explanation for what I see to be a failure by the author to accomplish what she sets out to do. On the other hand, I appreciate what you had to say in your second paragraph.
“The Lottery” was great and succeeds in covering the moral territory that “The Hunger Games” pretends to but does not. “The Lottery” is effective, well-written and a genuine moral challenge. “The Hunger Games” resembles Jackson’s story only superficially.
Perhaps our difference lies in what constitutes force, choice, alternatives and agency as provided by Collins. “The Hunger Games” insists on no other alternatives to violence than participation in violence, which to me is not a challenge but an affirmation–the opposite of what the author purports to do. By denying the protagonist the choice and agency that might allow her to act in ways other than forced participation, Collins removes the possibility for a serious challenge to the violence she pretends to criticize. Refusal to participate in violence is not an option that Collins provides. The choices by Katniss proceed from this acquiescence to violence and therefore undermine the author’s supposed challenge to violence and limit the existential choices and development of her characters—and by extension, her readers. In Collins’ book, the legitimacy of violence must be accepted. It is precisely this inescapable legitimacy of violence that provides the fascist undertone to this work.
The movie version of “The Hunger Games” asserts this. For example, does the picture on the movie poster suggest that the work has an anti-violent message or does the emotional appeal of that image say something to the contrary?
What is going on in “The Hunger Games” is similar to a group of religious scholars who set out to probe and challenge their faith while tacitly agreeing that the existence of god will never be questioned. Fine. One can explore moral choices within that framework. But for me, such an exploration is a disingenuous critique of faith because it does not challenge fundamental assumptions. The end result is that faith ends up being confirmed instead of questioned.
What is interesting and ironic about the popular appeal of “The Hunger Games” is the frequent need to include violence in order to sell products and the concomitant appeal of action for its own sake in our collective narratives, so much so that the legitimacy of violence is assumed and goes unnoticed. In keeping with this status quo dynamic, Collins does not challenge or raise awareness of violence. Instead, her book gets us off the hook for our participation in it.
I understand that your interpretation is otherwise. However, I refrained from concluding that you “misunderstand” or “misinterpret” the work, nor did I assume that you hadn’t read the author’s other work. And I didn’t discount your opinion by dismissively suggesting that you didn’t really read the book or didn’t have the proper lens. Exactly what kind of deep digging and big questions are possible if deviation from the dominant, Right Answer interpretation of “The Hunger Games” is provided no room in the discussion? This sounds to me like the same sort of pretention Collins engaged in.
Apologies. This accidentally got deleted from the end of the 6th paragraph:
It allows us to pretend that we have no choice. It allows us to remain comfortable by not having to challenge our basic assumptions or act on what we might find beyond these metanarratives. It is a very satisfying psychological trick, the same trick employed in “The Sound of Music” and “V for Vendetta,” where the audience gets to voyeuristically and vicariously participate in emotionally satisfying fascist violence while maintaining the pretense that they are engaged in the more noble pursuit of an anarchistic counterpoint to fascism. The duality of both the sadism of the fascist beast and a liberal desire to rise above that are in the hearts of most people, which is why this trick when employed in a book or movie guarantees mass appeal.
Agreed, but to me while Harry Potter is a transparent fitting of the English public school system into a magic-based fantasy world, The Hunger Games is a transparent fitting of the Roman Empire and gladiatorial combat into a sci-fi future.
I mean, a President “Coriolanus Snow”? Even the name sounds Latinate.
And, the reason I can’t take it realistically is, as such, it shows no regard for history and sociology when constructing such a model. Rome had a plunder economy which only prospered as long as the empire kept expanding; when it stopped and the loot stopped coming in, its limited ability to create or manufacture proved a constraint on what it could do. The games themselves required a shitload of money to host, and eventually they collapsed because of that.
For a good model for a post-apocalypse the Dark Ages would be a better: economic contraction, local politics and economics dominate, and the rule of local strongmen (thugs).
-stewartm
Thanks. I hadn’t thought about it that way. But, yes, it does work as a sci-fi gladiator film, especially regarding heroic violence. By submitting to combat in the gladiator’s ring, the combatant–even if a slave in pursuit of their freedom–agrees to participate in the violence. The relative power of the gladiator within the Empire seriously compromises their full potential for agency, but without the acceptance of the gladiator the whole bloody show could not go on. Katniss potentially had other options, as everyone does, and which Collins could have explored if her work was after challenging violence. But instead she chose to have Katniss step into the ring.
I suspect there is a reason “The Hunger Games” has an appeal to those with racist outlooks–certainly a form of violence. It may be uncomfortable to recognize that the movie has elicited such racist comments as those above, but fodder for such sentiments is in Collins’ story.
I had a similar difficulty in taking it realistically. There were just so many holes in the plot, so many inexplicable circumstances and improbabilities that I could no longer suspend my disbelief. And I like sci-fi and really set out wanting to enjoy the book. It was junk food whose wrapper tried to convince me that it was healthy.
True ’nuff, but going back to the Roman model, it’s also provided wealth and fame. Like furthering one’s education in a neoliberal economy, becoming a gladiator was a personal “solution” for someone in a class given a hopeless outlook.
The danger in this kind of imperial “entertainment”, which I don’t know if The Hunger Games addresses, where’d do you think that Spartacus and his followers learned to fight?? Surely anyone staging such games realizes that they could be training their own future executioners?
As a final observation, I would also note that such “spectacle” has a larger cultural pedigree. The games probably originated in the ritualistic torture-killing of captured prisoners of war, as practiced by pre-state societies engaged in long-ranged warfare with distant enemies (think: Native American chiefdoms (the Cherokee in the Southeast fought the Iroquois residing in New York!), the Vikings, etc). In this kind of warfare you can’t very much do much with warrior prisoners captured in battle–you don’t dare set them free, and you can’t bring them home as your culture has not much in control mechanisms. So you kill them, often brutally and slowly, not only to inspire fear in the enemy but also to steel your own warriors into not surrendering or fraternizing, as they know what goes around comes around–the enemy will likewise retaliate.
By making this brutality a public spectacle, you also desensitize your own public to your enemy and desensitize your youth to the brutality *they* will grow up to practice. In some cultures, cannibalism went hand in hand with the torture-killing–you turn your enemy literally into calories for yourself.
With state-level cultures, this largely disappeared, as there was created a mechanism for controlling prisoners, and turning prisoners into slaves or serfs produced more calories than by eating them directly. These games were probably a holdover from this earlier time. I also believe that the Japanese mistreatment of Allied POWs during WWII was culturally related and had a similar aim, to brutalize Japanese soliders and to prevent them from surrendering by getting Allied soldiers, which actually did worry the Japanese leadership (i.e., that they worried that if Japanese soldiers/sailors/airmen learned that they would receive humane treatment from the Americans/British, they’d fight less hard and surrender more easily).
And of course, very little of this would fit with a sci-fi post-apocalypse world.
All forms of social control are expensive. The former Soviet Union collapsed in large part by the expense of maintaining a huge military state AND a maintaining a huge surveillance, control, and prison state. Of course, we seem determined to follow them on this.
Would a post-apocalyptic world be able to afford all this? I don’t think so.
Moreover, another facet which I think would be present in any post-apocalypse would be a reverence for the past and perceived past greatness. When the Southeastern Native American Mississippian cultures collapsed, a collapse probably exacerbated by the huge death toll by European diseases, the collapse coincided with the loss of an estimated 80 % or 90 % of the previous population. Entire fields of knowledge would be wiped out. The survivors did not know that the mounds existing in the Southeast were built by their own ancestors. A similar loss of knowledge occurred with the Roman collapse.
The result would be that the post-apocalypse society would be presented with strange gadgets and language and artifacts from the previous age that they couldn’t begin to figure out. Hence, they would hail these ancients as “greats” who knew more than they could ever possibly know, and revere them, and this reverence would extend into politics and the larger society. For a thousand years, for example, the Holy Roman emperors really pretended (and actually probably believed) that they were simply continuing the old Roman empire. The old original series Star Trek episode where the Enterprise crew stumbled upon a parallel earth that fought a nuclear war, and the “Yangs” (“Yankees”) were found to revere an American flag and the Bible and Constitution and other artifacts of their past as “holy items” and mumble them as incomprehensible words I find more realistic than most fiction of this genre.
-stewartm
I have very much enjoyed reading your thoughtful observations.
“By making this brutality a public spectacle, you also desensitize your own public to your enemy and desensitize your youth to the brutality *they* will grow up to practice.” Indeed.
If you haven’t read these, a person of your interests might really enjoy Keeley’s “War Before Civilization: The Myth of the Peaceful Savage” http://www.amazon.com/War-Before-Civilization-Peaceful-Savage/dp/0195119126
and Brown, et al’s “Ancient Mesoamerican Warfare.” http://www.amazon.com/Ancient-Mesoamerican-Warfare-Kathryn-Brown/dp/075910283X/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1334370292&sr=1-1