My Thoughts on The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes
My Thoughts on The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes
A chaotic and disorganized review
Pass me the posca because it is time to relive the obsession a select number of us experienced between 2012 and 2015 when The Hunger Games movies came out. With the release of The Hunger Games prequel, The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes, which I will be referring to as BOSBAS, and the trailer for its movie adaptation, I, like many other Hunger Games fans, felt the intense desire to get my hands on my nearest copy of the prequel. Lucky for me, a dear friend lent me hers. Shout-out to Moyra. I hunched over that book for hours as it slipped in and out of its black and green dust jacket. I hate dust jackets, but that’s not the point. I read, consumed, and digested each word. The internal monologue that echoed behind the reading voice in my head kept saying, “Brilliant! This is brilliant! Suzanne Collins is so smart! She’s a genius! Am I starting to like President Snow?” Now, I know what you’re thinking. The villain in the trilogy? The tyrant? The grandpa scumbag who was responsible for Finnick Odair’s prostitution and death? And so much more? That’s when I knew I was dealing with a completely different beast. When I read The Hunger Games trilogy, it was easy to like and dislike certain characters. It was easy to like Katniss, Peeta, Prim, Cinna, and Haymitch despite his severe alcoholism. It was easy to dislike President Snow, The Careers, and Gale. Yes, I said Gale. I saw right through him when he said hunting people was no different from hunting animals. Red flag!
One of the reasons why I thought BOSBAS was brilliant was because of how Collins wrote Coriolanus Snow. We saw a different side to him. We saw him as an orphaned boy damaged by war and as a young man grappling with his emotions, coping with the death of his classmates, and experiencing first love, all while trying to restore his family’s former glory and submitting school assignments. School is already stressful enough. When you have an instructor like Dr. Gaul, who makes you write essays on what you love about war and has no moral objections to having a student get bit by poisonous snakes, the stress can only increase. Sidenote: I was so scared for Clemensia. That scene in the hospital where she said the scales were spreading was terrifying. Every time Snow made a decision, he thought of every possible outcome. This sort of catastrophizing leads me to believe Suzanne Collins has anxiety because she nailed what it’s like to overthink. Her ability to tap into that mental state was very well done because even though the novel is written in third-person limited, it felt like I was reading it in first-person. His thoughts reveal so much about his character and I would argue that he is the most interesting.
Those who have read The Hunger Games books or have seen the movies know how awful of a person Snow is, but the beginning of the prequel and some of the middle reveal that he wasn’t always that way. As Lucy Gray says, “I think there’s a natural goodness built into human beings. You know when you’ve stepped across the line into evil, and it’s your life’s challenge to try and stay on the right side of that line.” I would say there is a natural goodness built into Snow, but he crossed the line into evil and never went back. His relationship with Lucy Gray gives a glimpse of hope as to what he could have been if he chose goodness. You could argue that Snow was only nice to Lucy Gray in the Capitol for his own benefit. He wanted to win so he could go to university, restore his family’s honor, “Snow lands on top,” and all of that. Although I believe that is true, I also believe that he fell in love with Lucy Gray, which temporarily diverted him from his goal. Not only did Collins write that he loved her in the book, but I also don’t think Snow would have had so many conflicting emotions about her and his future if he didn’t love her. Maybe it’s because I’m a hopeful romantic, but it was that lover boy side of him that made me start to like him. I’ll admit it! I thought they were cute! When she called him “The cake with the cream,” and he gave her his mother’s rose compact and was excited to watch her sing back at District 12, I got butterflies! Even though I knew who Snow would become, part of me saw hope for the two of them. Part of me saw hope in Snow becoming a better person, and I applaud Suzanne Collins for making me believe in something that I already knew would NEVER happen. Snow loved Lucy Gray, he just loved power more. I also love how Collins included the detail that love made Snow feel weak and vulnerable, and so he told himself that he would marry someone he hated so he wouldn’t have to feel that way again. It’s a small detail that speaks volumes. Snow loves power so much that he will eliminate any distractions in order to get it.
I referred to Snow as a “savvy little snow fox” to my friend Moyra because you got to give it to him. As evil as he is, the man is clever. Dropping the handkerchief in the snake tank so they would recognize Lucy’s scent in the arena? Genius! Recording Sejanus on the Mockingjays? Genius! This is not to say I support what he did to Sejanus, because that was all kinds of wrong! How dare you betray such a wholesome human being and then make yourself a part of his family when his parents are in mourning! The worst part is that they probably never learned the truth. However, I appreciate Collins’s creativity and how much thought she put into Snow’s actions. If Collins ever teaches a masterclass on characterization, sign me up! The woman knows what she’s doing!
Another character I found interesting was Dr. Gaul. I love a multi-faceted character, but every now and then, I love a flat character who is just batshit crazy. Dr. Gaul is the most unsettling character in this novel. She has no moral compass. It’s shattered, broken, or perhaps it never even existed. The fact that she was ready for Clemensia to get bit by one of her snakes and did nothing about it told me everything I needed to know about her. Even Snow knew that was wrong at the time. Might as well wrap her up in caution tape because the woman is dangerous. Her proclivity to violence and torture and her belief that humans are barbaric at their core is also a concerning aspect of her character. No wonder Snow turned out the way he did if he was under her tutelage at university. His ambition, his lust for power, and her threatening nature were the perfect concoction to create a monster. Snow was just another one of her “muttations” and he proved to be the most powerful.
Aside from characterization, Collins thrives in organizing her plot. When I first held the book, I wondered how much can be said about Snow’s backstory that it takes up more than 500 pages. Turns out… a lot. What I think made the plot so captivating was not only the events but how they were organized. Collins placed every major event perfectly. She made readers suffer through a few chapters, rewarded them with a happy moment, and then snatched it away to keep them engaged until the next happy moment. For example, after reading about the atrocities in and out of the arena, Lucy Gray is announced as the victor. I was like, Finally! A happy reunion for her and Snow! Then BAM! Snow gets sent away to become a peacekeeper. Of course, I had to keep going! Collins had me on a leash until the very end. Speaking of the end! I have a theory as to what happened to Lucy Gray. I think she lived, wandered out into the woods, and found District 13. Here’s why. If you look up a map of Panem, you will find that District 13 is north of District 12. In BOSBAS, it is rumored in District 12 that there are “people up north.” I believe those people are District 13. In Mockingjay Part 2, during Finnick and Annie’s wedding, there is music and dancing. Music was banned in District 12 after Lucy Gray’s disappearance. I like to think Lucy Gray brought influence from the Covey into District 13. If you compare Finnick and Annie’s wedding to the scene in the BOSBAS trailer when Lucy Gray is performing with the Covey, the instruments and style of dance are similar. Maybe this is me being overly optimistic, but I think it’s a possibility worth noting.
I’ve been going on about this book for a while now, so to wrap it up: it blew me out of the water. The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes is riveting, clever, and a treasure for every bookshelf. I thought I had seen the last of Panem years ago, but I was wrong, and I am thrilled to be a part of it again.