The second I started reading Sunrise on the Reaping, I was hooked. Once again, I was transported into the world of the Hunger Games and into the perspective of sixteen-year-old Haymitch Abernathy. Only this time, I knew exactly what was going to happen.
At least, that’s what I thought.
Suzanne Collins’ newest installment of the Hunger Games series explores how a government controls its people through the twisting of narratives and the presentation of information. Sunrise on the Reaping was a gut-wrenching account of Haymitch’s games, but it also gave a grim warning about the dangers and very real tactics used throughout history.
Previously in Panem…
While Sunrise on the Reaping focuses on a teenage version of Haymitch, you might remember that he originally appeared as Katniss and Peeta’s mentor.
In Catching Fire, Katniss watches a recap of Haymitch’s Games. This led many of us, including me, to assume we knew the basic sequence of events when Sunrise on the Reaping was announced. Little did we know that, like Katniss, we had fallen for the Capitol’s propaganda. Haymitch’s Games were not at all as they seemed.
Throughout the Hunger Games series, Collins’s writing is bursting with philosophy and social commentary. Sunrise on the Reaping references David Hume and George Orwell. The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes explores the social contract theory with Hobbes, Locke, and Machiavelli. The very foundation of the Hunger Games series delves into just war theory, as well as Greek mythology. Let’s revisit several of the themes she’s incorporated into the Hunger Games throughout the years.
From Labyrinth to Arena
If the concept of trapping children in a battle to the death seems familiar, you might remember the story of Theseus and the Minotaur.
In an interview, Collins explains that her passion for Greek mythology made it impossible for her not to incorporate it into her storytelling. In the myth, Theseus and his contemporaries are thrown into the Labyrinth. Collins says that “in one version of the myth, this excessively cruel punishment resulted from the Athenians opposing Crete in a war. Sometimes the labyrinth’s a maze, sometimes it’s an arena.” Does this ring any bells?
Not only does Collins add this detail to the conflict between the Capitol and the districts, but she even explores this cycle of killing on an individual level during Katniss’ first Games. For those who remember, Marvel kills Rue, Katniss kills Marvel, Thresh kills Clove, and Cato kills Thresh. Katniss finally kills Cato, not out of revenge but out of mercy, effectively ending this micro-cycle.
We find a parallel later on in Mockingjay when President Coin discusses reinstituting the Hunger Games as retribution against the Capitol. This raises a fascinating philosophical question: which do you hate more — the killer or the killing?
Just as she did in her first Hunger Games, Katniss chooses mercy, killing Coin and ending Panem’s cycle of vengeance.
“The life of man, solitary, poor, nasty, brutish, and short…”
On the subject of revenge bloodshed, it begs the question of why the Capitol sees it as an effective method of control in the first place.
Collins provided this answer in The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes, told from the perspective of young Coriolanus Snow. She draws upon social contract theory, an idea associated with philosophers Hobbes and Locke.
“Hereby it is manifest, that during the time men live without a common Power to keep them all in awe, they are in that condition which is called Warre, and such a warre, as is of every man, against every man.”
– Thomas Hobbes, Leviathan, 1651
Hobbes is notorious for attributing inherent violence to the human condition, hence the concept of bellum omnium contra omnes — “war of all against all.” He claims that we need a social contract to maintain order and prevent a regression into man’s natural state.
Enter the Hunger Games. In a conversation with Dr. Gaul, young Coriolanus comes to the twisted realization that the Games are a necessary reminder of the animalistic savagery inherent to human nature. Without the iron control of the Capitol, the entire world becomes an arena, a kill-or-be-killed bloodscape.
However, Locke expands upon Hobbes’ social contract theory with a far more gracious philosophy on human nature. He states that should the government be guilty of violating its citizens’ inalienable rights, thereby upsetting order rather than defending it, the people are under a moral obligation to revolt. In Locke’s opinion, this is a just cause for war, and it later becomes Snow’s undoing.
Fear, Love, and Hope
“It is much safer to be feared than loved, if one must renounce to one or the other… all he needs to do is avoid being hated.”
– Niccolo Machiavelli, The Prince, 1532
While never explicitly stated, Snow’s reign as president mirrors the model of leadership described by Machiavelli. In The Prince, Machiavelli clearly states that it is wiser to lead with fear than love, for fear permits no argument. This is Snow’s approach to power, as he uses tactics of intimidation and force to retain his hold on the districts.
However, he neglected to remember the next part of Machiavelli’s philosophy — to refrain from inciting hatred. And, as we know, the districts despised Snow.
While Snow weaponizes love and hope against the districts — for example, by giving the media a marketable version of Katniss and Peeta as the “star-crossed lovers” — his efforts fail to quell the unrest. As evidenced in Sunrise on the Reaping, a successful rebellion takes numerous attempts and many years to achieve. But once the revolution truly takes hold, Snow’s rule is effectively over. Like his breach of the social contract, inciting hate proves fatal to his grasp of power.
Stopping the Sunrise on the Reaping
“Nothing appears more surprising to those, who consider human affairs with a philosophical eye, than the easiness with which the many are governed by the few; and the implicit submission, with which men resign their own sentiments and passions to those of their rulers. When we enquire by what means this wonder is effected, we shall find, that, as Force is always on the side of the governed, the governors have nothing to support them but opinion. It is therefore, on opinion only that government is founded; and this maxim extends to the most despotic and most military governments, as well as to the most free and most popular.”
– David Hume
Circling back to Collins’ newest book, Sunrise on the Reaping introduces some fascinating new concepts about the relationship between the governors and the governed.
At the beginning of the book, sixteen-year-old Haymitch has resigned himself to the existence of the Hunger Games. However, his girlfriend, Lenore Dove, has not submitted so easily. She emphasizes the transience of time and human affairs, insisting to Haymitch that change is achievable. It is not force that holds the districts under Capitol rule, after all, it is opinion. Once opinion no longer holds power, neither does the Capitol. From there, the world has the potential to change.
Her earnest philosophy reflects the other David Hume quote Collins includes at the front of the novel: “That the sun will not rise tomorrow is no less intelligible a proposition, and implies no more contradiction, than the affirmation, that it will rise.” The only inevitability is that nothing is inevitable. And governors possess only the power of opinion that the governed provide.
Presentation, Propaganda, and the Public
“All propaganda is lies, even when one is telling the truth. I don’t think it matters so long as one knows what one is doing, and why.”
– George Orwell
Without giving away spoilers, I’ll point out the most obvious instance where the Capitol distorted the truth. When Haymitch is crowned victor, the Gamemakers present the Capitol with a recap of his Games. However, the Gamemakers edited and reassembled the footage to serve a narrative curated by the Capitol. While there was some truth in the video, the greater picture it painted was far from accurate.
Katniss watches this very recap years later, and it is this sequence of events that we, as the audience, are presented with. For more than fifteen years, Collins allowed her readers to blindly accept this lie before ripping back the curtains to prove her point.
Long story short, we were fed a form of propaganda, and we devoured it without questioning, reacting based on someone else’s agenda. Not only is this how mainstream media operates, but perhaps it also reflects Collins’ own thoughts on her books’ reception.
When her work entered the media and was adapted into a movie series, the public was sold a romance. Not a tragedy, and certainly not a commentary. Even when The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes hit the big screen in 2023, social media became flooded with thirst traps of young Snow, turning the real world into a disconcerting reflection of Capitol society.
The Hunger Games and the Real World
While some might consider the lessons in Sunrise on the Reaping a bit on-the-nose, Collins had no choice but to hand-feed us her message, no matter how difficult it may be to digest. Sunrise on the Reaping is dark and gory, full of misery and failure. There is nothing to glorify, not even in the orchestration of the rebellion once Collins reveals the costs of such efforts.
And perhaps that is what we needed. An uncut, unfiltered, and unedited presentation of events.
These books are not necessarily a call to action, but they are a call to awareness. Collins challenges us to think critically for ourselves and to question the information we are fed. Corruption and violence are tales as old as time. For that very reason, we have no excuse to remain complacent.
While you read Sunrise on the Reaping, take some time to analyze the deeper philosophies behind Collins’ brilliant storytelling. Maybe you even plan to reread the entire series! No matter how often you revisit Panem, you’ll find a new detail every time.
Comment your own interpretations of Collins’ work below!
