The problems with Suzanne Collins’s latest attempt to wring more money out of The Hunger Games franchise start right from the get-go. Sunrise on the Reaping is a prequel to the original trilogy, and somewhat a sequel to the series’ fourth entry, The Battle of Songbirds and Snakes. It tells the story of Haymitch Abernathy, later Katniss Everdeen’s drunken, curmudgeonly mentor, as he attempts to survive the 50th Annual Hunger Games, also known as the Second Quarter Quell. I should say, Haymitch tells the story, since the book is written in first-person narration, consistent with the original trilogy. Haymitch, however, is a much worse narrator than Katniss Everdeen. Collins isn’t very assured in his voice, and tends to over-describe and emote. Everything is over the top. Haymitch does not sound at all like a sixteen-year-old boy, and even less like one forced to grow up quickly in the absence of a father. His narration is also jam-packed with clunky exposition, in the worst Young Adult style, too. “Gee, life sure is tough here in District 12…” kind of stuff.
In addition to the bad YA stuff, Sunrise also falls prey to the typical pitfall of all prequels. It has a predetermined outcome. While there is obviously a lot of plot along the way, everyone with a basic understanding of the linear passage of time understands that Haymitch is going to win the Quarter Quell, meaning that the other 47 entrants are doomed to death, whether Suzanne Collins bothers to give them a role in the story or not. It’s a little hard to invest in these characters when you know their fate.
Thus, the Games themselves, which were fraught with tension in the original trilogy (even if we knew Katniss was going to survive instinctually), become a total slog. Even Collins seems to just be going through the motions. She attempts to inject some interest into the proceedings by having Haymitch scheme to take down the Games, but there again the reader’s foreknowledge zaps the tension. “Well, I know this is going to fail, but how?” isn’t as compelling a question for readers to be asking themselves.
Near the end of Sunrise on the Reaping, Collins is forced to jam in a ridiculous amount of plot in order to bring the novel into alignment with the rest of the series, giving the whole book a sheen of cartoonish villainy and outrageous despair. It becomes almost comical, directly in opposition to the intended effect.
If you’ve been in the pop culture corners of the internet, you’ve no doubt seen some of the casting announcements for the forthcoming film adaptation. While the movie was inevitable, the quickness with which it went into production serves to confirm the reader’s suspicion that the book is just a quick stop on the road to that sweet, sweet adaptation cash.