#anyway does anyone with a complicated relationship with masculinity yet an inclination towards it as it

[mechawolfie]

had a gay af dream & now I'm yearning once more for the touch of another man 🙄

[motherhenna]

The Power of the ‘Boy with the Bread’: Gender Roles and Defiance in the Hunger Games

Most, if not all, fans of the Hunger Games trilogy can unanimously agree that Peeta Mellark is a polarizing character in any discourse: some adore him with the same intensity that he adores our narrator, while others wish that he had stayed dead after his run-in with the arena forcefield in Catching Fire. Regardless of one’s personal affection for him, however, Peeta Mellark is still incredibly crucial to the series as a whole: he stands as a foil to the toxic brand of masculinity that tends to plague the heroes of young adult media, and his partnership with Katniss challenges many of the traditional gender roles that are so often thought to be absolute and unconditional. Moreover, he is instrumental to both Katniss’ physical survival and emotional growth, as well as to the flow and coherence of the entire narrative in and of itself. Though many readers accuse him of emotional or physical weakness in comparison to both Katniss and Gale, the truth of the matter is so much more complicated than that.

From the first moment of his introduction, Peeta Mellark is defined by his kindness, a trait that seems to be difficult to find in the dog-eat-dog world of Panem. When his name is drawn for the 74th Hunger Games, Katniss’ first response is distress, as she is intimately aware that he is the one person to whom she owes everything.  “Oh no [...]. Not him,” she thinks during the Reaping. “To this day, I can never shake the connection between this boy [...] and the bread that gave me hope, and the dandelion that reminded me that I was not doomed” (Hunger Games, 25-32). From this point on, it is constantly emphasized how unusual and out of place much of Peeta’s behavior is, especially when compared to the more self-sufficient survivors of District 12 and the gluttonous, apathetic denizens of the Capitol. Indeed, this sort of compassion is so out of place that our narrator spends almost the entirety of the first book trying to analyze and decode his actions, as she is unable to believe that such behavior could possibly be genuine, even though “when young Peeta first gave the scavenging Katniss a loaf of burned bread, he was assuming a great personal risk. Katniss was bewildered. ‘He didn’t even know me,’ she reflects” (Foy, 214). As Katniss is defined by her acute ability to endure and carry on, Peeta is similarly identified by his willingness to sacrifice—not simply for the sake of family and friends, but rather for the greater good. Since this concept is much discussed throughout the series, Abigail Mann reflects upon it in her essay, Competition and Kindness: on the odd phenomena of altruism and how this developed among the human species as a whole. “The fact that some people do give to beggars [...] demonstrates that we don’t always take the easy way out; rather, we choose actions that we think will best benefit others who are in need,” she explains. “Peeta burned the bread and endured a beating because [Katniss] and her family were badly in need of that sustenance at the time, and he cared enough to help” (Mann, 117).

Peeta’s personality also exists in sharp contrast to his harsh and often-violent mother, who regularly berates him, belittles him and even goes so far as to physically abuse him on several occasions. The only positive role model depicted in his life seems to be his father, who extends acts of generosity to Katniss that are quite similar to that of his son’s. For example, Mr. Mellark buys Katniss’ game for unnecessarily high prices, gives her cookies after the Reaping, and even promises to watch out for her beloved sister during her absence. –But the interesting thing about the Mellarks is how they deviate from traditional familial norms. In most iterations of media, the authoritative and controlling head of the household is almost always the man, while the woman is generally the sympathetic yet passive nurturer. In spite of this, said gender dynamics are completely flipped within the Mellark family: rather, the domineering mother is clearly in charge, while Mr. Mellark is described as being meek and soft-spoken: “We always wait to trade with him when his witch of a wife isn’t around because he’s so much nicer. I feel certain he would never have hit [Peeta] the way she did over the burned bread” (Hunger Games, 37). And like the Mellarks, we see similar non-normative gender roles reflected in their son and his eventual relationship with Katniss:

“It may take readers the entire first book, or even the entire series, to realize that from his earliest descriptions, Peeta is an equally complicated match for Katniss. Just as Katniss’ masculinity is expressed in her status as hunter, so Peeta’s femininity is expressed in his role as baker. Even Peeta’s shrew of a mother undercuts his masculinity by suggesting that Katniss might actually win this year, a sharp testament to his perceived feminized weakness.” (Mitchell, 132-33)

Though Peeta’s talents and occupations are never actively gendered either way by Katniss’ narration, baking, cake decorating and painting are all coded as ‘feminine’ skills by modern Western society, and are therefore widely considered to be inferior. This is probably why Katniss is lauded for her ‘masculine’ ability to hunt, kill and suppress ‘negative’ emotions like sadness and fear, while Peeta is mocked for his own penchant for nonviolence and creativity. “Of the major characters in the Hunger Games trilogy, Peeta is the closest to being an androgynous blend of the most desirable masculine and feminine traits,” Jessica Miller explains in her essay, Katniss and the Politics of Gender. “He’s confidant and self-reliant [...but] he’s also trusting and open. He’s physically strong, but avoids violence and aggression except in self-defence. Emotional and expressive, Peeta [...] cried openly when he took leave of his family for the Hunger Games” (154).  So even with his muscular build, physical strength and experience with hand-to-hand combat, Peeta is still not considered ‘manly’ enough for many readers, as they have come to expect only the aggressive, authoritarian male lead and tend to reject any character who differs from this archetype. However, in the end, there is no ‘superior’ skill set: Collins portrays both Katniss and Peeta’s abilities as different but of equal merit and importance. After all, “individuals ‘vary’ [...]. From the perspective of Darwin’s theory, it’s just as natural for Katniss to fail in one environment (as she surely would during the Victory Tour without Peeta, Haymitch Abernathy, and Cinna’s help) as it is for her to succeed in another” (Mann, 106-107). Anyway, it’s unlikely that readers see Peeta as a damsel in distress solely because he ‘constantly’ needs to be rescued by Katniss, as canonically, they support each other both physically and emotionally in relatively equal amounts throughout the series. No, in reality, Peeta is probably designated as weak not because he is unable to protect himself, but because he needs to be saved by a woman at all.

Now, while this titular couple is well known from their differing-yet-complimentary personalities, we actually see that Katniss progressively comes to understand and even adopt many of Peeta’s beliefs over time. From the death of her District 11 ally in the first Games to her ethical conflicts with Gale throughout Mockingjay, Katniss is actually influenced by Peeta far more than many readers care to admit. Truth be told, Peeta “risks a beating because it’s the right thing to do. Strange as that motive must have seemed at the time to young Katniss, she will become more and more like Peeta over the course of their relationship, displaying a growing concern for others and a willingness to sacrifice herself in order to do what’s right” (Foy, 215). In fact, Peeta Mellark’s sense of morality is perhaps one of (if not the most) important aspects of his character, as it directly influences his actions, relationships and inclination towards kindness and altruism, as well as contributes to the grander themes of the trilogy at large. A prominent scene that displays said ethics takes place on the night before the Hunger Games. Katniss finds herself so worried about survival strategies and fear for her own wellbeing that she is unable to sleep, and while wandering the District 12 quarters of the Tribute Center, she discovers that Peeta is still awake too. When she asks him what he’s thinking about, he clarifies:

“I want to die as myself. Does that make any sense?” he asks. I shake my head. [...] “I don’t want them to change me in there. Turn me into some kind of monster that I’m not.”

I bite my lip, feeling inferior. [...] “Do you mean you won’t kill anyone?”

“No, when the time comes, I’m sure I’ll kill just like everybody else. I can’t go down without a fight. ...Only I keep wishing I could think of a way...to show the Capitol they don’t own me. That I am more than a piece in their Games.” (Hunger Games, 142-143)

Upon hearing this, Katniss is at first flummoxed, then irritated, and misunderstands his explanation as pretention and superiority rather than a sincere personal dilemma. She is at first unable to grasp that “when [Peeta] insists that he won’t let the Games change him, part of what he means is that he’s unwilling to [...] sacrifice his human decency, even at the cost of his life” (Foy, 214). Katniss goes on to put this encounter out of her mind, and the meaning of his moral impasse remains beyond her comprehension for a considerable duration of the 74th Games. But when her young ally, Rue, is brutally murdered by the male career from District 1, Katniss’ whole perspective turns on its head. Upon killing the boy and comforting Rue during her final moments, Peeta’s words are the first to enter Katniss mind, and it is at this point that she makes the decision to do something that will somehow force the Capitol to be held accountable for their cruelty. This is what leads to her memorial to Rue: the first act of subtle insubordination and solidarity to the rest of the districts that proves to be the spark of what will soon become the final rebellion.

With that in mind, although it was Rue’s death that triggered the defiance that eventually turns Katniss into the figurehead of the uprising, it was actually Peeta who first planted that seed of defiance in her head.  After this, both Katniss and Peeta together are “determined to hold onto their humanity by preserving their ethical autonomy, which includes the sense of moral obligation that Katniss has come to feel, in large part because of Peeta’s example. And because they do, they live to see another dawn” (Foy, 216). With the progression of each book, Katniss’ understanding of the broader concepts of ethics and selflessness increases exponentially, and by Mockingjay, her entire worldview has altered significantly to the point where it has become almost indistinguishable from Peeta’s. For instance, in the later days of the rebellion, Katniss is appalled at Gale’s strategy for defeating the Nut: he suggests that they bomb the mountains around the Capitol stronghold to trap and eventually suffocate both enemy and civilian within. When she protests, Gale “makes a classic ends-justify-the-means argument, insisting that war always involves collateral damage, the sacrifice of innocents, and inflicting tremendous suffering upon others” (Henthorne, 87-88). If this controversy had taken place at the beginning of the series, Katniss might have very well condoned Gale’s merciless viewpoint, albeit reluctantly; however, after both witnessing firsthand the damage this line of thinking can do and coming around to Peeta’s perspective, she is now utterly unable to justify the murder of innocents simply for the ambiguous goal of ‘victory’.  In effect, Katniss eventually divorces from Gale entirely, as she has realized that “choosing Gale would mean a betrayal of one of her highest values: the preservation of innocent life” (Myers, 143). Like Peeta had the day before their first Games, Katniss has come to value mercy over justice.

Be that as it may, if our meadowlark and mockingjay are both as similar as they are different, where does that leave the third member of this infamous love triangle? By the closing of the final novel, Gale Hawthorne becomes the true antithesis to everything that Peeta represents. After all, in almost every sense, Gale is what would be considered a traditional and ‘desirable’ male lead, defined by his ability to hunt and existing as the sole provider for his family. Furthermore, he feels intense romantic feelings for Katniss that he expresses passionately, physically and often without her prior consent.  However, these sorts of Byronic heroes and their displays of what might be considered ‘sexual assault’ in the real world are usually seen as alluring when exhibited in fiction. Many individuals, especially impressionable teenage girls, find themselves unable resist the “slightly mysterious and protective” type: so even though he might be “prone to displays of temper and violence [...], Gale fits the stereotype of rugged masculinity” to a tee (Miller, 153). Consequently, when confronted with the ‘Gale versus Peeta’ quandary, plenty of readers default to the taller, darker and handsomer individual without hesitation. However, if one looks closer, one might notice that Gale is actually a vessel for many a toxic aspect of hyper-masculinity, aspects that are entirely absent from Peeta’s character. For example, Gale is the embodiment of the male concept of ‘friend-zoning’. To clarify, this is a relatively recent slang term formed to describe a common situation in which a person is rejected by their romantic interest (typically a woman) that wants to keep their relationship platonic. Instead of mourning rejection but respecting her decision, ‘friend-zoned’ men typically lash out at their former flames and refuse to remain on good terms—friendship, to them, is insignificant if amorous love is not the end result. Throughout Catching Fire and Mockingjay, we see Gale engage in strikingly similar behavior to what was described above. On multiple occasions, he pressures Katniss to admit her feelings for him, even after she expresses discomfort at the prospect of romance, and he coerces and guilt-trips her into kisses or other displays of affection on numerous occasions. Though it is clear from day one that he does indeed care deeply for Katniss, Gale is still unable to accept her platonic friendship at face value, thus putting his own desires above Katniss’ emotional wellbeing.

In contrast, while understandably stung by Katniss’ romantic indecision after the first Games, Peeta is quickly able to swallow his disappointment and extend the olive branch in Catching Fire. While he admits that he “was jealous of [Gale],” he goes on to say, “I thought if I stopped being so, you know, wounded, we could take a shot at just being friends” (51). Despite the reality of his obvious attraction to Katniss, Peeta is more than willing to simply be with her in any way, romantic or not. This is an incredibly uncommon occurrence with any narrative that features a love triangle, as both parties are generally expected to be possessive of their ladylove. It is because of this that these boys are often keen to ‘duke it out’ with their rivals, so to speak, regardless of the apex of said triangle’s possible qualms; friendship just isn’t part of the equation. And yet with Peeta, Collins gives us a new possibility: that a man respecting his significant other’s choices and happiness isn’t just feasible, but healthier than the more conventional alternative. With that being said, the differences between Gale and Peeta go much deeper than just straightforward appearance and personality. In fact, these two young men stand on complete antithetical sides of morality. On one hand, Gale Hawthorne champions the tactic of fighting fire with fire. To him, morality is irrelevant in war, and he is more than willing to sacrifice others in order to achieve what he believes is just. And yet, in the end, it is Gale who falls short; more than that, he is ultimately reproached and sent away by Katniss: essentially exiled by Collins for the remaining few chapters. ...But why is this so important in terms of toxic masculinity and divergence from the gender norms that so constrain modern fiction? And what does Peeta have that Gale doesn’t? –In the end, ‘EverLark’ is the only resolution that makes sense: “Gale is correct when he says that Katniss would choose the one who would best help her to survive—but it’s not just physically. Peeta helps her to survive as herself, with her values intact” (Myers, 143). Though Katniss could have very well chosen Gale, not only would it have gone against everything she believes in, but most if not all of the uniqueness of the series’ romance would be nullified. So despite the fact that many fans of the books are confused and even angry about the final pairing, it remains evident that “Katniss and Peeta—the hunter and the baker—offer something that Gale and Katniss never could have: a partnership that helps us imagine an alternative to dominant romance narratives and a way of valuing both masculine and feminine roles, regardless of who fills them” (Miller, 159).

           In conclusion, Peeta Mellark is not just an accessory to Katniss, nor is he in any way detrimental or irrelevant to the narrative at large. Though he is involved in what could be viewed as a ‘gimmicky’ love triangle, what matters is that he provides us with refreshing divergence from the aggressive, often-damaging masculinity and misogyny that so many leading men in popular fiction are reduced to. Peeta is a multifaceted and three-dimensional character, but most importantly, he is unique—both within and without the narrative. He is kind instead of harsh, gentle instead of violent, calm instead of domineering: he is the peaceful sunset to Katniss’ raging fire, and the Hunger Games trilogy would not be the same without him.

Works Cited

Collins, Suzanne. Hunger Games, Catching Fire, and Mockingjay. New York Scholastic, 2008—

2010.  Print.

Foy, Joseph J. “Safe to Do What?” The Hunger Games and Philosophy. Eds. George A. Dunn

and Nicolas Michaud. Hoboken, NJ: Wiley, 2012. 193-203. Print.

Henthorne, Tom. Approaching the Hunger Games Trilogy : A Literary and Cultural Analysis.  

Jefferson, NC: McFarland, 2012. Web. Jan. 2016.

Mann, Abigail. “Competition and Kindness.” The Hunger Games and Philosophy. Eds. George

A. Dunn and Nicolas Michaud. Hoboken, NJ: Wiley, 2012. 193-203. Print.

Miller, Jessica. “Katniss and the Politics of Gender”. The Hunger Games and Philosophy. Eds.

George A. Dunn and Nicolas Michaud. Hoboken, NJ: Wiley, 2012. 193-203. Print.

Mitchell, Jennifer. “Of Queer Necessity”. Of Bread, Blood and the Hunger Games : Critical Essays

on the Suzanne Collins Trilogy. Eds. Mary F. Pharr, Leisa A. Clark, and Donald

Palumbo. Jefferson, NC: McFarland, 2012. 118-128. Print.

Myers, Abigail E. “Why Katniss Chooses Peeta.” The Hunger Games and Philosophy. Eds.

George A. Dunn and Nicolas Michaud. Hoboken, NJ: Wiley, 2012. 193-203. Print.