"'No, Peeta, I don't even want to discuss it,' I say, placing my fingers on his lips to quiet him.
'But I --' he insists.
Impulsively, I lean forward and kiss him, stopping his words. This is probably overdue anyway since he's right, we are supposed to be madly in love. It's the first time I've ever kissed a boy, which should make some sort of impression I guess, but all I can register is how unnaturally hot his lips are from the fever. I break away and pull the edge of the sleeping bag around him. 'You're not going to die. I forbid it. All right?'
'All right,' he whispers.
I step out in the cool evening air just as the parachute floats down from the sky. My fingers quickly undo the tie, hoping for some real medicine to treat Peeta's leg. Instead I find a pot of hot brother.
Haymitch couldn't be sending me a clearer message. One kiss equals one pot of broth. I can almost hear his snarl. 'You're supposed to be in love, sweetheart. The boy's dying. Give me something I can work with!'
And he's right. If I want to keep Peeta alive, I've got to give the audience something more to care about. Star-crossed lovers desperate to get home together. Two hearts beating as one. Romance." (Collins 268-269)
This shows how much power the media (that's controlled by the Capital) has over your survival in the arena. If you stick to what the audience wants, you'll get more sponsors. The more sponsors you have, the more supplies that you really need and cant find, you'll get. It's not just strength and skill. You have to play up to your story too. Like this star-crossed lovers thing Katniss and Peeta are playing up.
The whole romance thing is frustrating! Katniss thinks that Peeta's just playing along because that's what Haymitch wanted, but he really is in love with her! I feel so bad for him. I just wanna smack Katniss and be like THIS IS NOT AN ACT. HE LOVES YOU, WHAT ARE YOU DOING. In the end, when she goes back to how it was before, he's going to be heartbroken because he really does love her and she's gonna say it was just win, because she hates showing her feelings.
Katniss believes that she is manipulating everyone in the Capitol's thoughts by playing up this star-crossed lovers deal. Even though I think she is in love with Peeta. Either way, she does get sponsors to get the medicine Peeta needs for his leg, so it works!
Sunday, December 18, 2011
The Hunger Games 5
"But I told Rue I'd be there. For both of us. And somehow that seems even more important than the vow I gave Prim.
I really think I stand a chance of doing it now. Winning. It's not just having the arrows or outsmarting the Careers a few times, although those things help. Something happened when I was holding Rue's hand, watching the life drain out of her. Now I am determined to avenge her, to make her loss unforgettable, and I can only do that by winning and thereby making myself unforgettable.
I overcook the birds hoping someone will show up to shoot, but no one does. Maybe the other tributes are out there beating one another senseless. Which would be fine. Ever since the bloodbath, I've been featured on screens more than I care.
Eventually, I wrap up my food and go back to the stream to replenish my water and gather some. But the heaviness from the morning drapes back over em and even though it's only early evening, I climb a tree and settle in for the night. My brain begins to replay the events from yesterday. I keep seeing Rue speared, my arrow piercing the boy's neck. I don't know why I should even care about the boy.
Then I realize...he was my first kill.
Along with other statistics they report to help people place their bets, every tribute has a list of kills. I guess technically I'd get credited for Glimmer and the girl from District 4, too, for dumping that nest on them. But the boy from District 1 was the first person I knew would die because of my actions. Numerous animals have lost their lives at my hands, but only one human. I hear Gale saying, 'How different can it be, really?'
Amazingly similar in the execution. A bow pulled, an arrow shot. Entirely different in the aftermath. I killed a boy whose name I don't even know. Somewhere his family is weeping for him. His friends call for my blood. Maybe he had a girlfriend who really believe he would come back...
But then I think of Rue's still body and I'm able to banish the boy from my mind. At least, for now." (Collins_242-243)
Being surrounded by death everyday, makes Katniss and the other tributes immune to emotions when it comes to killing. It's survival of the fittest and this point. Katniss now feels the need to avenge Rue's death. The point of this passage is to emphasize how long it took Katniss to purposely kill someone.
It's funny how much of reflex it was for Katniss to shoot the District 1 boy after he killed Rue. I think it was because Katniss saw her younger sister, Prim, in Rue. So when she saw the 12 year old get hurt, her motherly instincts kicked in. (Especially since she took care of her sister for so long) But it's funny how she didn't even hesitate and be like "this is the first person I'm going to kill" it was just like she was hunting and she needed to protect her partner.
I really think I stand a chance of doing it now. Winning. It's not just having the arrows or outsmarting the Careers a few times, although those things help. Something happened when I was holding Rue's hand, watching the life drain out of her. Now I am determined to avenge her, to make her loss unforgettable, and I can only do that by winning and thereby making myself unforgettable.
I overcook the birds hoping someone will show up to shoot, but no one does. Maybe the other tributes are out there beating one another senseless. Which would be fine. Ever since the bloodbath, I've been featured on screens more than I care.
Eventually, I wrap up my food and go back to the stream to replenish my water and gather some. But the heaviness from the morning drapes back over em and even though it's only early evening, I climb a tree and settle in for the night. My brain begins to replay the events from yesterday. I keep seeing Rue speared, my arrow piercing the boy's neck. I don't know why I should even care about the boy.
Then I realize...he was my first kill.
Along with other statistics they report to help people place their bets, every tribute has a list of kills. I guess technically I'd get credited for Glimmer and the girl from District 4, too, for dumping that nest on them. But the boy from District 1 was the first person I knew would die because of my actions. Numerous animals have lost their lives at my hands, but only one human. I hear Gale saying, 'How different can it be, really?'
Amazingly similar in the execution. A bow pulled, an arrow shot. Entirely different in the aftermath. I killed a boy whose name I don't even know. Somewhere his family is weeping for him. His friends call for my blood. Maybe he had a girlfriend who really believe he would come back...
But then I think of Rue's still body and I'm able to banish the boy from my mind. At least, for now." (Collins_242-243)
Being surrounded by death everyday, makes Katniss and the other tributes immune to emotions when it comes to killing. It's survival of the fittest and this point. Katniss now feels the need to avenge Rue's death. The point of this passage is to emphasize how long it took Katniss to purposely kill someone.
It's funny how much of reflex it was for Katniss to shoot the District 1 boy after he killed Rue. I think it was because Katniss saw her younger sister, Prim, in Rue. So when she saw the 12 year old get hurt, her motherly instincts kicked in. (Especially since she took care of her sister for so long) But it's funny how she didn't even hesitate and be like "this is the first person I'm going to kill" it was just like she was hunting and she needed to protect her partner.
The Hunger Games 4
"I hear his instructions in my head. 'Just clear out, put as much distance as you can between yourselves and the others, and find a source of water.'
But it's tempting, when I see the bounty waiting there before me. And I know that if I don't get it, someone else will. That the Career tributes who survive the bloodbath will divide up most of these life-sustaining spoils. Something catches my eye. There, resting on a mound of blanket rolls, is a silver sheath of arrows and a boy, already strung, just waiting to be engaged. That's mine, I think. It's meant for me.
I'm fast. I can sprint faster than any of the girls in our school although a couple can beat me in distance races. But this forty-yard length, this is what I am built for. I know I can get it, I know I can get it, I know I can reach it first, but then the question is how quickly can I get out of there? By the time I've scrambled up the packs and grabbed the weapons, others will have reacher the horn, and one or two I might be able to pick off, but say there's a dozen, at that close range, they could take me down with spears and the clubs. Or their own powerful fists.
Still, I don't be the only target. Im betting many of the other tributes would pass up a smaller girl even one who scored an eleven in training, to take out their more fierce adversaries.
Haymitch has never seen me run. maybe if he had he'd tell me to go for it. Get the weapon. Since thats the very weapon that might be salvation. And I only see one bow in that whole pile. I know the minute must be almost up and will have to decide what my strategy will be and I find myself positioning my feet to run, not away into the surrounding forests by toward the pile, toward the bow. When suddenly I notice Peeta, he's about five tributes to my right, quite a fair distance, still I can tell he;'s looking at me and I think he might be shaking his head. But the sun's in my eyes, and while I'm puzzling over it the gong rings out.
And I've missed it! I've missed me chance! Because those extra couple of seconds I've lost by not being ready are enough to change my mind about going in. My feet shuffle for a moment, confused at the direction my brain wants to take and then I lunge forward, scoop up the sheet of plastic and a loaf of bread. The picking are so small and I'm so angry with Peeta for distracting me that I sprint in twenty yards to retrieve a bright orange backpack that could hold anything because I cant stand leaving with virtually nothing.
A boy, I think from District 9, reaches the pack at the same time I do and for a brief time we grapple for it and then he coughs, splattering my face with blood. I stagger back, repulsed by the warm, sticky spray. Then the boy slips to the ground. Thats when I see the knife in his back. Already other tributes have reached the Cornucopia and are spreading out to attack. Yes, the girl from District 2, ten yards away, running toward me, one hand clutching a half-dozen knives. I've seen her throw in training. She never misses. And I'm her next target.
All the general fear I've been feeling condescend into an immediate fear of this girl, this predator who might kill me in seconds. Adrenaline shoots through me and I sling the pack over one shoulder and run full-speed for the woods. I can hear the blade whistling toward me and reflexively hike the pack up to protect my head. The blade lodges in the pack. Both straps on my shoulders now, I make for the trees. Somehow I know the girl will not pursue me. That she'll be drawn back into the Cornucopia before all the good stuff is drawn back into the Cornucopia before all the good stuff is gone. A grin crosses my face. Thanks for the knife. I think.
At the edge of the woods I turn for one instant to survey the field. About a dozen or so tributes are hacking away at one another at the horn. Several lie dead already on the ground. Those who have taken flight are disappearing into the trees or into the void opposite me. I continue running until the woods have hidden me from the other tributes then slow into a steady jog that I think I can maintain for a while. For the next few hours, I alternate between jogging and walking, putting as much distance as I can between myself and my competitors. I lost my bread during the struggle with the boy from District 9 but managed to stuff my plastic in my sleeve so as I walk I fold it neatly and tuck it into a pocket. I also free the knife -- it's a fine one with a long sharp blade, serrated near the handle, which will make it handy for sawing through things -- and slide it into my belt. I don't dare stop to examine the contents of the pack yet. I just keep moving, pausing only to check for pursuers.
I can go a long time. I know that from my days in the woods. But I will need water. That was Haymitch's second instruction, and since I sort of blotched the first, I keep a sharp eye out for any sign of it. No luck." (Collins_149-151)
This is important because this is the official start to the Hunger Games. And it shows how Katniss will rebel if she thinks she can do it, since she rebelled against Haymitch's instructions. She's independent and will do whatever she can to survive.
But personally, if I were her, I would have ran as fast as I could to the woods, of course I wouldn't have gotten a sleeping bag or knife, which are important items for surviving but all of those items were there at the horn just to tempt everyone and force them to kill each other. To really get back at the Capitol, and if I were as good as hunting as Katniss, I would have found other ways to get weapons and slowly pick off each tribute I could. Like Batman. I'd be like batman. >:D
When it comes to survival, people will go back to animal instinct. We will fight and kill in order to survive. This is a prime example of it. We will do whatever we can, get everything that we might need, even if we don't know how to use them or what they are. The more items we have, the more we feel we'll survive. It's reassurance.
But it's tempting, when I see the bounty waiting there before me. And I know that if I don't get it, someone else will. That the Career tributes who survive the bloodbath will divide up most of these life-sustaining spoils. Something catches my eye. There, resting on a mound of blanket rolls, is a silver sheath of arrows and a boy, already strung, just waiting to be engaged. That's mine, I think. It's meant for me.
I'm fast. I can sprint faster than any of the girls in our school although a couple can beat me in distance races. But this forty-yard length, this is what I am built for. I know I can get it, I know I can get it, I know I can reach it first, but then the question is how quickly can I get out of there? By the time I've scrambled up the packs and grabbed the weapons, others will have reacher the horn, and one or two I might be able to pick off, but say there's a dozen, at that close range, they could take me down with spears and the clubs. Or their own powerful fists.
Still, I don't be the only target. Im betting many of the other tributes would pass up a smaller girl even one who scored an eleven in training, to take out their more fierce adversaries.
Haymitch has never seen me run. maybe if he had he'd tell me to go for it. Get the weapon. Since thats the very weapon that might be salvation. And I only see one bow in that whole pile. I know the minute must be almost up and will have to decide what my strategy will be and I find myself positioning my feet to run, not away into the surrounding forests by toward the pile, toward the bow. When suddenly I notice Peeta, he's about five tributes to my right, quite a fair distance, still I can tell he;'s looking at me and I think he might be shaking his head. But the sun's in my eyes, and while I'm puzzling over it the gong rings out.
And I've missed it! I've missed me chance! Because those extra couple of seconds I've lost by not being ready are enough to change my mind about going in. My feet shuffle for a moment, confused at the direction my brain wants to take and then I lunge forward, scoop up the sheet of plastic and a loaf of bread. The picking are so small and I'm so angry with Peeta for distracting me that I sprint in twenty yards to retrieve a bright orange backpack that could hold anything because I cant stand leaving with virtually nothing.
A boy, I think from District 9, reaches the pack at the same time I do and for a brief time we grapple for it and then he coughs, splattering my face with blood. I stagger back, repulsed by the warm, sticky spray. Then the boy slips to the ground. Thats when I see the knife in his back. Already other tributes have reached the Cornucopia and are spreading out to attack. Yes, the girl from District 2, ten yards away, running toward me, one hand clutching a half-dozen knives. I've seen her throw in training. She never misses. And I'm her next target.
All the general fear I've been feeling condescend into an immediate fear of this girl, this predator who might kill me in seconds. Adrenaline shoots through me and I sling the pack over one shoulder and run full-speed for the woods. I can hear the blade whistling toward me and reflexively hike the pack up to protect my head. The blade lodges in the pack. Both straps on my shoulders now, I make for the trees. Somehow I know the girl will not pursue me. That she'll be drawn back into the Cornucopia before all the good stuff is drawn back into the Cornucopia before all the good stuff is gone. A grin crosses my face. Thanks for the knife. I think.
At the edge of the woods I turn for one instant to survey the field. About a dozen or so tributes are hacking away at one another at the horn. Several lie dead already on the ground. Those who have taken flight are disappearing into the trees or into the void opposite me. I continue running until the woods have hidden me from the other tributes then slow into a steady jog that I think I can maintain for a while. For the next few hours, I alternate between jogging and walking, putting as much distance as I can between myself and my competitors. I lost my bread during the struggle with the boy from District 9 but managed to stuff my plastic in my sleeve so as I walk I fold it neatly and tuck it into a pocket. I also free the knife -- it's a fine one with a long sharp blade, serrated near the handle, which will make it handy for sawing through things -- and slide it into my belt. I don't dare stop to examine the contents of the pack yet. I just keep moving, pausing only to check for pursuers.
I can go a long time. I know that from my days in the woods. But I will need water. That was Haymitch's second instruction, and since I sort of blotched the first, I keep a sharp eye out for any sign of it. No luck." (Collins_149-151)
This is important because this is the official start to the Hunger Games. And it shows how Katniss will rebel if she thinks she can do it, since she rebelled against Haymitch's instructions. She's independent and will do whatever she can to survive.
But personally, if I were her, I would have ran as fast as I could to the woods, of course I wouldn't have gotten a sleeping bag or knife, which are important items for surviving but all of those items were there at the horn just to tempt everyone and force them to kill each other. To really get back at the Capitol, and if I were as good as hunting as Katniss, I would have found other ways to get weapons and slowly pick off each tribute I could. Like Batman. I'd be like batman. >:D
When it comes to survival, people will go back to animal instinct. We will fight and kill in order to survive. This is a prime example of it. We will do whatever we can, get everything that we might need, even if we don't know how to use them or what they are. The more items we have, the more we feel we'll survive. It's reassurance.
The Hunger Games 3
"The doors have only just shut behind us when we're engulfed by the prep teams, who are nearly unitelligible as they babble out praise. As I glance around, I notice a lot of the other tributes are shooting us dirty looks, which confirms what Ive suspected, weve literally outshone them all. Then Cinna and Portia are there, helping us down fron the chariot, carefully removing our flaming kind of spray from a canister.
I relize I'm still glued to Peeta and force my stiff fingers to open. We both massage out hands.
'Thanks for keeping hold of me. I was getting a little shaky out there,' says Peeta.
'It didnt show,' I tell him. 'I'm sure no one noticed.'
'I'm sure they didnt notice anything but you. You should wear flames more often,' he says. 'They suit you.' And then hives me a smile that seems so genuinely sweet with just the right touch of shyness that unexpected warmth rushes through me.
A warning bell goes off in my head. Dont be so stupid. Peeta is planning how to kill you, I remind myself. He is luring you in to make you easy prey. The more likable he is, the more deadly he is.
But because two can play at this game, I stand on tiptoe and kiss his cheek. Right on his bruise." (Collins_72)
These Games make the tributes paranoid about everything. Peeta has helped Katniss before and is being nice to her because he's madly in love with her and always has been, but she thinks he's just planning to kill her. He wants to get on her good side, get to know her, and then kill her using her weaknesses and knowing her strengths. It's sad. Peeta is the baker's son. He isn't a killer or a fighter. At least Katniss has hunted for most of her life. The second she gets put into the Games, she over thinks everything about what he does.
And poor Peeta! this is a terrible situation for him. I feel so bad. He loves her and has to go into these stupid Games. All because of the Capitol and their entertainment. But what Katniss is thinking makes sense, at this point, she thought there could only be one winner, if either one of them won, the other would have to die.
In this passage, Cinna told Katniss and Peeta to hold hands. This simple gesture manipulated everyone in the Capitol's mind. By seeing two tributes holding hands, they would suspect something was going on between the two romantically. This would be a whole new type of drama and excitement in the Hunger Games. By thinking this, people would want the two to live longer to see what they would do, so they could get more sponsors to survive.
I relize I'm still glued to Peeta and force my stiff fingers to open. We both massage out hands.
'Thanks for keeping hold of me. I was getting a little shaky out there,' says Peeta.
'It didnt show,' I tell him. 'I'm sure no one noticed.'
'I'm sure they didnt notice anything but you. You should wear flames more often,' he says. 'They suit you.' And then hives me a smile that seems so genuinely sweet with just the right touch of shyness that unexpected warmth rushes through me.
A warning bell goes off in my head. Dont be so stupid. Peeta is planning how to kill you, I remind myself. He is luring you in to make you easy prey. The more likable he is, the more deadly he is.
But because two can play at this game, I stand on tiptoe and kiss his cheek. Right on his bruise." (Collins_72)
These Games make the tributes paranoid about everything. Peeta has helped Katniss before and is being nice to her because he's madly in love with her and always has been, but she thinks he's just planning to kill her. He wants to get on her good side, get to know her, and then kill her using her weaknesses and knowing her strengths. It's sad. Peeta is the baker's son. He isn't a killer or a fighter. At least Katniss has hunted for most of her life. The second she gets put into the Games, she over thinks everything about what he does.
And poor Peeta! this is a terrible situation for him. I feel so bad. He loves her and has to go into these stupid Games. All because of the Capitol and their entertainment. But what Katniss is thinking makes sense, at this point, she thought there could only be one winner, if either one of them won, the other would have to die.
In this passage, Cinna told Katniss and Peeta to hold hands. This simple gesture manipulated everyone in the Capitol's mind. By seeing two tributes holding hands, they would suspect something was going on between the two romantically. This would be a whole new type of drama and excitement in the Hunger Games. By thinking this, people would want the two to live longer to see what they would do, so they could get more sponsors to survive.
The Hunger Games 2
"'Prim!' The strangled cry comes out of my throat, and my muscles begin to move again. 'Prim!' I don't need to shove through the crowd. The other kids make way immediately allowing me a straight path to the stage. I reach her just as she is about to mount the steps. With one sweep of my arm, I push her behind me.
'I volunteer!' I gasp. 'I volunteer as tribute!'
There's some confusion on the stage. District 12 hasn't had a volunteer in decades and the protocol has become rusty. The rule is that once a tribute's name has been pilled from the ball, another eligible boy, if a boy's name has been read, or girl, if a girl's name has been read, can step forward to take his or her place. In some districts, in which winning the reaping is such a great honor, people are eager to risk their lives, the volunteering is complicated. But in District 12, where the word tribute is pretty much synonymous with the word corpse, volunteers are all but extinct.
'Lovely!' says Effie Trinket. 'But I believe theres a small matter of introducing the reaping winner and then asking for volunteers, and if one does come forth then we, um...' she trails off, unsure herself.
'What does is matter?' says the mayor...'What does it matter' he repeats gruffly. 'Let her come forward.'
Prim is screaming is screaming hysterically behind me. She's wrapped her skinny arms are me like a vice. 'No, Katniss! No! You can't go!'
'Prim, let go,' I say harshly...
'Well, bravo!' gushes Effie Trinket. 'Thats the spirit of the Games!' She's pleased to finally have district with a little action going on in it. 'What's your name?'
I swallowed hard. 'Katniss Everdeen,' I say.
'I bet my buttons that was your sister. Don't want her to steal all of the glory, do we? Come one, everybody! Lets give a big round of applause to our newest tribute!' trills Effie Trinket.
To the everlasting credit of the people of District 12, not one person claps. Not even the ones holding betting slips, the ones who are usually beyond caring. Possibly because they know me from the Hob, or knew my father, or have encountered Prim, who no one can help loving. So instead of acknowledging applause, I stand there unmoving while they take part in the boldest form of dissent they can manage. Silence. Which says we do not agree. We do not condone. All of this is wrong.
Then something unexpected happens. At least, I don't expect it because I don't think of District 12 as a place that cares about me. But a shift has occurred since I stepped up to take Prim's place, and now it seems I have become someone precious. At first one, then another, then almost every member of the crowd touches the three middle finger on their left hand to their lips and holds it out to me. It is an old and rarely used gesture of our district, occasionally seen at funerals. It means thanks, it means admiration, it means good-bye to someone you love.
Now I am truly in danger of crying,..." (Collins_22-24)
In the wealthier districts, being picked tribute is an honor and what kids are trained for their whole lives. But in districts 11 and 12, it's more like a death sentence. That's why the citizens of District 12 use their gesture of thanks. They are convinced that Katniss wont make it through the Games since it's been so long since a tribute from there has one.
I think it's very brave that Katniss is doing this for her sister. The odds were not in Prim's favor, unfortunately, especially after everything her family's been through. Katniss would not be able to make it through losing Prim if she went into the Games. I would not be able to be as brave as her.
The purpose of this passage is to show how and why Katniss went into the games, and how she's different from all of the other tributes that come from district 12. She's doing it for the person she loves, Prim, her younger sister that she's had to care for ever since her father died.
This shows about the present that there will always be someone that takes family really seriously and will do anything for them, no matter how selfish and careless of other people society is.
'I volunteer!' I gasp. 'I volunteer as tribute!'
There's some confusion on the stage. District 12 hasn't had a volunteer in decades and the protocol has become rusty. The rule is that once a tribute's name has been pilled from the ball, another eligible boy, if a boy's name has been read, or girl, if a girl's name has been read, can step forward to take his or her place. In some districts, in which winning the reaping is such a great honor, people are eager to risk their lives, the volunteering is complicated. But in District 12, where the word tribute is pretty much synonymous with the word corpse, volunteers are all but extinct.
'Lovely!' says Effie Trinket. 'But I believe theres a small matter of introducing the reaping winner and then asking for volunteers, and if one does come forth then we, um...' she trails off, unsure herself.
'What does is matter?' says the mayor...'What does it matter' he repeats gruffly. 'Let her come forward.'
Prim is screaming is screaming hysterically behind me. She's wrapped her skinny arms are me like a vice. 'No, Katniss! No! You can't go!'
'Prim, let go,' I say harshly...
'Well, bravo!' gushes Effie Trinket. 'Thats the spirit of the Games!' She's pleased to finally have district with a little action going on in it. 'What's your name?'
I swallowed hard. 'Katniss Everdeen,' I say.
'I bet my buttons that was your sister. Don't want her to steal all of the glory, do we? Come one, everybody! Lets give a big round of applause to our newest tribute!' trills Effie Trinket.
To the everlasting credit of the people of District 12, not one person claps. Not even the ones holding betting slips, the ones who are usually beyond caring. Possibly because they know me from the Hob, or knew my father, or have encountered Prim, who no one can help loving. So instead of acknowledging applause, I stand there unmoving while they take part in the boldest form of dissent they can manage. Silence. Which says we do not agree. We do not condone. All of this is wrong.
Then something unexpected happens. At least, I don't expect it because I don't think of District 12 as a place that cares about me. But a shift has occurred since I stepped up to take Prim's place, and now it seems I have become someone precious. At first one, then another, then almost every member of the crowd touches the three middle finger on their left hand to their lips and holds it out to me. It is an old and rarely used gesture of our district, occasionally seen at funerals. It means thanks, it means admiration, it means good-bye to someone you love.
Now I am truly in danger of crying,..." (Collins_22-24)
In the wealthier districts, being picked tribute is an honor and what kids are trained for their whole lives. But in districts 11 and 12, it's more like a death sentence. That's why the citizens of District 12 use their gesture of thanks. They are convinced that Katniss wont make it through the Games since it's been so long since a tribute from there has one.
I think it's very brave that Katniss is doing this for her sister. The odds were not in Prim's favor, unfortunately, especially after everything her family's been through. Katniss would not be able to make it through losing Prim if she went into the Games. I would not be able to be as brave as her.
The purpose of this passage is to show how and why Katniss went into the games, and how she's different from all of the other tributes that come from district 12. She's doing it for the person she loves, Prim, her younger sister that she's had to care for ever since her father died.
This shows about the present that there will always be someone that takes family really seriously and will do anything for them, no matter how selfish and careless of other people society is.
The Hunger Games 1
"...He tells of the history of Panem, the country that rose up out of the ashes of a place that was once called North America. He lists the disasters, the droughts, the storms, the fires, the encroaching seas that swallowed up so much of the land, the brutal war for what little sustenance remained. The result was Panem, a shining Capitol ringed by thirteen districts, which brought peace and prosperity to its citizens. Then came the Dark Days, the uprising of the districts against the Capitol. Twelve were defeated, the thirteenth obliterated. The Treaty of Treason gave us the new laws to guarantee peace and, as our yearly reminder that the Dark Days must never be repeated, it gives us the Hunger Games.
The rules of the Hunger Games are simple. In punishment for the uprising, each of the twelve districts must provide one girl and one boy, called tributes, to participate. The twenty-four tributes will be imprisoned in a vast outdoor arena that could hold anything from a burning desert to a frozen wasteland. Over a period of several weeks, the competitors must fight to the death. The last tribute standing wins.
Taking the kids from our districts, forcing them to kill one another while we watch - this is the Capitol's way of reminding us how totally we are at their mercy. How little chance we would stand of surviving another rebellion. Whatever words they use, the real message is clear. 'Look how we take your children and sacrifice them and there's nothing you can do. If you lift a finger, we will destroy every last once of you. Just as we did in District Thirteen.'" (Collins_18-19)
This passage explains why the Hunger Games were created and how Panem came to be. It explains why people don't stand up to the government that controls everything about their lives. If the government or the Capitol didn't have so much control over everyone, people in district 12 could go to district 1 and try to get better lives for themselves, but they cant. They're stuck mining for coal and being at the bottom of the food chain, basically. Not only that, but parents and family members have to fear that their kin will be picked at a reaping every year and die in the Hunger Games, and they have to watch while it happens!
The people of Panem are in the worst situation ever. I'd hate to live in this society, I'd freak out every time the reaping came about, afraid I'd be picked. And even if it was illegal to train before, I'd still try and make it so I wasn't going to go into the games completely clueless to surviving.
In this story, being human means to do what you were born to do, depending on what district you're in and if you're between the age of 12 and 16, then you can be picked to go into the hunger games, you go. You just do what you're told by the Capitol, or they'll make your life a living hell, basically.
It's kind of like the districts in the movie In Time because you cant really go to different parts of the country in that society either.
The rules of the Hunger Games are simple. In punishment for the uprising, each of the twelve districts must provide one girl and one boy, called tributes, to participate. The twenty-four tributes will be imprisoned in a vast outdoor arena that could hold anything from a burning desert to a frozen wasteland. Over a period of several weeks, the competitors must fight to the death. The last tribute standing wins.
Taking the kids from our districts, forcing them to kill one another while we watch - this is the Capitol's way of reminding us how totally we are at their mercy. How little chance we would stand of surviving another rebellion. Whatever words they use, the real message is clear. 'Look how we take your children and sacrifice them and there's nothing you can do. If you lift a finger, we will destroy every last once of you. Just as we did in District Thirteen.'" (Collins_18-19)
This passage explains why the Hunger Games were created and how Panem came to be. It explains why people don't stand up to the government that controls everything about their lives. If the government or the Capitol didn't have so much control over everyone, people in district 12 could go to district 1 and try to get better lives for themselves, but they cant. They're stuck mining for coal and being at the bottom of the food chain, basically. Not only that, but parents and family members have to fear that their kin will be picked at a reaping every year and die in the Hunger Games, and they have to watch while it happens!
The people of Panem are in the worst situation ever. I'd hate to live in this society, I'd freak out every time the reaping came about, afraid I'd be picked. And even if it was illegal to train before, I'd still try and make it so I wasn't going to go into the games completely clueless to surviving.
In this story, being human means to do what you were born to do, depending on what district you're in and if you're between the age of 12 and 16, then you can be picked to go into the hunger games, you go. You just do what you're told by the Capitol, or they'll make your life a living hell, basically.
It's kind of like the districts in the movie In Time because you cant really go to different parts of the country in that society either.
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