25 million times, it becomes pretty clear that the series has something going for it. Twilight had an entirely vacant protagonist so the readers could visualize themselves in her place. Harry Potter offered a magical world full with both fantastical journeys and real-life obstacles. It’s not always easy to explain why a series is so popular.
This new series deals with fantastic, terrifying scenarios, but manages to let the reader relate to the very human fears and relationships that Katniss, the main character, experiences. Almost every teen has felt singled out, and it’s easy to sympathize with Katniss’s unfair and inhumane situation. Anyone who has ever felt unrequited love for someone has experienced Peeta’s pain. This story deals with loss delicately and with dignity, giving readers who have lost loved ones a place to feel like they are not alone in suffering. In fact, grief is one of the most central themes in the story, from Haymitch self-medicating to Katniss’s mother shutting down after her husband dies.
In overview, the story is set in a post-apocalyptic, totalitarian society in which children are chosen by lottery to compete in The Games, a gladiator match to the death for the entertainment and repression of the populace. This battle is watched by just about everyone in the nation and its coverage is similar to that of our modern-day Olympics. Yet, there can be only one winner in these games and the competitors, or tributes, can be helped by sponsors who pay exorbitant amounts to send in aid to the lucky tributes.
In the story, the sponsor is akin to God. When Katniss is given burn lotion by a sponsor, she looks up to the sky and whispers “thank you,” as one might in prayer. Katniss chooses to give the viewers, specifically the sponsors, what they want so she can survive. These generous benefactors may sympathize with her, but they laugh just the same when a tribute from another district is stabbed in the throat. Katniss has to convince the sponsors to support her in order to receive their gifts sent by parachute in little capsules from the sky.

The Games are especially fascinating in concept. Omnipresent, unquestioned entertainment coming from the deaths of children broadcast on widescreen. The question is: are we so far from that today?

In light of the blood-spattered UFC matches, for which many turn up the volume and cheer, can we really say that we’re much better? A reality TV show isn’t quality unless one participant is struggling with rehab and the rest are screaming and fighting over who gets the Ferrari. We gape and stare when Jersey Shore comes on, so what’s to stop us from tuning in when Snooki is armed with a razor-sharp spear instead of garishly painted nails?
It’s not just mindless reality TV, either. How often we sit and watch image after image of Syria or Afghanistan flicker, absorbed by and even immune to the gore and the death tolls. As the ratings show, there’s entertainment value watching Wolf Blitzer talk about the latest bombing. So in many ways, the question we should be asking as we read or watch The Hunger Games is simply how far are we really from President Snow and his gladiator games? We don’t live in his totalitarian government and we’ve never had to choose between starving and being executed for hunting, but on a psychological level, are we really that different from the people who cheer at every blast of the cannon?