#the part in the book when dr. gaul brings out the snakes in the arena and clemensia lets out a horrified scream broke my heart

[tepkunset]

The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes Film Review

(This review contains spoilers!)

I consider The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes book to be a masterpiece that sets a standard of what YA Fiction can be; something that any young adult upwards can enjoy. Suzanne Collins does such an amazing job of pulling you into the world and characters she’s created, and doesn’t shy away from the truly grotesque things that make a dystopia feel impactful. I am glad to say that, for the most part, this film lives up to that standard.

Before anything else, I do want to get a few minor complaints out of the way. Keep in mind they did not ruin the film for me, but I feel they are worthy of pointing out.

Sejanus Plinth is my favourite character in the book, and while for the most part he is very accurate, there is one thing that really disappointed me: In the book, Sejanus knew damn well what he was doing with the rebels; he deliberately supplied them with weapons. But in the film, he has the line “I didn’t know there would be guns”, discovering for the first time that they used his money to arm themselves. This really feels like de-clawing his character to me.

It would’ve been nice to have at least a brief mention that Barb Azure is gay. I can understand why they had to cut out Pluribus Bell for time, but because the also cut him out, that means there’s no mention at all of the book’s queer characters in the film.

The relationship between Coriolanus and Sejanus has a much more bitter feeling in the film than in the book, and after sleeping on it, I think I know why: Because we don’t get to hear Coriolanus’s thoughts in the film, the film I think overcompensates by making him much more verbal about his snobbery towards Sejanus. Subsequently, it’s harder to believe why Sejanus sees Coriolanus as his best friend.

Okay now, onto the praises!

The story is extremely loyal to the book. In fact, there is a lot of dialogue that is ripped right of the page, and it all made me really happy to hear. I am especially glad they kept in this pinnacle Lucy Gray quote: “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.” Because this, of course, directly enforces the core message I took from the book: Good and evil is a choice. The choices that Coriolanus made are his to hold responsibility to, and as much as you can point at Dr. Gaul for introducing him to the path he takes, ultimately, he chose to walk it. Most of the changes were understandable cuts for time without any sacrifices being too detrimental. The things they added were all, in my opinion, enhancements to the story by expanding on what only happens on the peripheral of Coriolanus’s point of view in the book. For example, the things he only watches on screen in the arena are delved further into by shifting to Lucy Gray directly a few times. They also added a bit to Coral’s character at her time of death, which I liked because it made her out to be less of a cardboard antagonist and instead reminded the audience that she, too, is a victim of the system.

All the actors did a phenomenal job, from both the main and supporting cast. Tom Blyth does a great job at showing Coriolanus Snow’s progression down the path of a young villain in the making. Rachel Zegler does a great job at capturing Lucy Gray’s charm and free spirit. Josh Andrés Rivera does a great job at selling the weight Sejanus carries around with him, and has some of the best line deliveries in the film in my opinion. (My favourite being “I’m so blameless I’m choking”.) And I especially have praise for Viola Davis as Dr. Volumnia Gaul, who does an amazing job at bringing the unhinged character from the book onto the screen. She’s properly intimidating and strange at the same time. Dimitri Abold as Reaper was also a scene-stealer, in that he captures what I absorbed from the book really well; the western societal expectation that a young Black man is a danger that is then turned on its head. Not only does he not kill a single person, he has a very emotional moment of mourning for the tributes, collecting their bodies as he does in the book, and covering them with the Panem flag – something that outrages the audience more than the actual death of the children.

The scenery is very loyal to the descriptions provided in the book; I swear they stole it straight from my own personal imagination while reading.

The music… I don’t even know how to put to words my satisfaction in how the film adapts the music written out in the book, into an actual song. My personal favourite is “Nothing You Can Take From Me”. Rachel Zegler has a great voice, for sure.

The costume design is great. The Capitol’s eccentricities we know from the core trilogy haven’t evolved yet, but there’s still a certain flavour carried with characters like Tigris and Dr. Gaul for example, that tell a story of where the fashion will eventually end up. On the other hand, we see that things haven’t changed very much for District Twelve at all, which showcases how society’s change is stilted in poverty.

The colour palette of the film is mostly just a little desaturated, with one exception: whenever Lucy Gray takes Coriolanus outside of District Twelve. The meadow, the lake, and the forest are all noticeably more colourful, which I interpreted as representing the freedom these locations offer to the characters.

All in all, I think the film was fantastic. It is easily the most loyal Hunger Games adaptation, and I don’t think that’s coincidental in its quality.

[cogentranting]

The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes and Mockingjays and Roses

*Warning: Full Spoilers for The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes*

Symbols are an important part of The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes. Symbols are used to mark the identities of different characters, define relationships, and provide thematic links to the original trilogy. The symbols work to create a tension in the story, a question of whether they complement or contrast. Symbolism is used to explore two of the most influential people in Snow’s life: Lucy Gray and Katniss. 

The various symbols associated with Lucy Gray are color, music, and birds. Each of these things plays a special role in the story and serves to distinguish her from Coriolanus. In a typical setting, love interests with different symbols could be understood to show how they complement each other-- opposites attract, two halves of a whole, etc. This novel lets the reader play with that interpretation for a large portion of the book; the story questions the relationship between them, wondering repeatedly how strong, or even how genuine, their love is. Ultimately, however, the contrasting associations sets them up for their final conflict and foreshadows the eventual destruction of both of them. 

At the first sight of Lucy Gray, she is in a “dress made of a rainbow of ruffles” (24). In her first interview she says “the Covey love color” (53). The Covey are all named with colors. Lucy Gray wears bright colors at all times. The snakes which end up being drawn to Lucy Gray in the arena are bright neon colors. The colors represent her exuberance, her love of beauty, her eccentricity, her freedom to stand apart. But Coriolanus is white. The absence of color, the opposite of all that Lucy Gray loves and represents. However, this symbol for Coriolanus is not prominent in this book. In fact it only really exists in this book in the form of his last name-- Snow. Even that is not the name he goes by. But it is the name that forms his connection with the Capitol and all that it represents: Dr. Gaul calls him by his last name; the Capitol media makes frequent plays on his name; he is associated with the legacy of his family name; in the peacekeepers he is officially addressed as “Private Snow”. It’s also used as the voice of his ambition in the phrase that he and Tigris use, “Snow lands on top” (9). Eventually, when his character arc is complete and he has embraced evil, he switches to going by his last name, as the Epilogue exclusively refers to him as “Snow”. However, to fully grasp that a part of the symbolism of his name relates to the color white requires knowledge of the Hunger Games trilogy. There Snow is represented by his white roses. The roses are present in this book, but they are colored roses. Therefore, Coriolanus being symbolized by white is not a constant in The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes, it’s a progression. It is Coriolanus turning against what drew him to Lucy Gray. While the progression is ongoing, the decisive moment comes when Lucy Gray uses the bright orange scarf he gave her to set a trap for him (or at least so he assumes) (581). The shift is there as he is “betrayed” by Lucy Gray’s colors, and the fulfillment is present in the person of President Snow in The Hunger Games.  By knowing the trilogy, the reader knows Coriolanus’s future and can see that he eventually eschews color, choosing the stark white which here sets him apart from Lucy Gray, but will also inevitably mark the violent contrast between him and the Girl on Fire. 

The second hallmark of Lucy Gray is her love of music. Her singing is her survival. It’s how she earns her living in District 12. It’s what unites her with her family. It’s how she expresses her emotions. It’s how she attracts attention at the Reaping and how she gains enough favor to win the Games. Coriolanus does not start out opposed to music. In fact, it initially attracts him to Lucy Gray, especially since one of her songs she sings in the Capitol awakens memories of his mother and a song she sang to him that “mentioned loving him” (78). Music is associated with his mother on several occasions, and his mother is the figure who most represents love and goodness for Coriolanus. When asked how he is like his mother he replies that they “shared a fondness for music” but also internally admits to himself that “she liked music, and he didn’t hate it, he guessed” (290). Despite his positive associations with music and his connection with people who love music (his mother, Lucy Gray, and also Pluribus), Coriolanus himself does particularly like music and doesn’t really understand it. He notes that he “can’t really sing” and when he sings the anthem “his singing was more like sustained talking” (127, 129). Beyond lacking talent, it seems that music and poetry are something that he cannot grasp; all the Capitol’s songs “sounded the same to him”, and Livia Cardew mocked him for “his inability to decipher the deeper meaning of a poem” (185). This extends later into the novel when he specifically fails to grasp the meaning of Lucy Gray’s song, which he describes as “nonsense words” and “ridiculous” because he “couldn’t make sense of it” (425, 427). Coriolanus has an inability to understand something that is an essential part of Lucy Gray which represents a failure to connect to her on a deeper level. It also distances him from those characters who demonstrate positive moral character: Lucy Gray, his mother, the generous Pluribus, and Sejanus (who Coriolanus notes had “always been good at rhetoric” (427)). Livia Cardew attributes this to Coriolanus being “self-absorbed” (185). The presentation of this trait within the book represents his moral failings and his rejection of the Romanticism which defines the Covey and the philosophical rhetoric of the Rebels and Sejanus. This puts him at odds with all that the novel holds up as praiseworthy. His attitude toward music only worsens as the book progresses and he finds that he is “weary of the infusion of music into his life. Invasion might be a better word” (445). He feels the way it pushes him away from others and threatens his position. But the significance of the music does not stop with the concept in general. 

The novel features the lyrics of multiple songs. Lucy Gray’s ballad is notable for the way it describes her mystery, how it shows Coriolanus’s failure to truly understand or appreciate her, and how it foreshadows his hand in her destruction. However, as he brings about her destruction, she has a hand in his eventual destruction. Lucy Gray is revealed to be the writer of the two songs from the Hunger Games trilogy-- “Deep in the Meadow” (“Rue’s Song”) and “The Hanging Tree”. “Deep in the Meadow” has less prominence in this book. The context is essentially the same-- Lucy Gray sings it as a lullaby to Maude Ivory in the same way that Katniss sings it to Prim and Rue-- so it carries the same weight initially. It is a symbol of peace and comfort and love. These are things which are mostly denied to Coriolanus and things which he rejects by the end of The Ballad, and actively seeks to destroy in The Hunger Games. However, it is eventually used against him, as Katniss’s use of the song-- her gesture of love for Rue-- is what causes the first sparks of rebellion to rise up in District 11. “The Hanging Tree” plays this role to an even greater extent. Lucy Gray writes the song about a moment that Coriolanus is present for and deeply disturbed by (350-351). The song is, on one level, about doomed lovers. Within the song you have Arlo and Lil-- two Rebels whose fate is mourned and romanticized, and whose doom Coriolanus has a hand in, already casting him in the role of antagonist. However, there’s also the speaker in the song. At one point in the narrative, the speaker is Billy Taupe calling to Lucy Gray. With him in the role of speaker the love story of the song is poisonous-- when they can’t be free together, Billy Taupe wants her to die rather than be free without him (487). After his death, the song transfers to be a call from Lucy Gray to Coriolanus. However, his character is entirely antithetical to the song. He rejects the dark romanticism that makes star-crossed lovers appealing, and rather than being willing to “wear a necklace of rope side by side with” Lucy Gray, he tries to kill her, betraying her and everything she and the song stand for. The song could also be applied to another pair of star-crossed lovers-- Katniss and Peeta. In their Games, Peeta tried to save her life-- “called out for his love to flee”-- then they try to survive together-- “I told you to run, so we’d both be free”-- and when that hope is lost they are prepared to die together-- “wear a necklace of rope, side by side with me”-- in order to deny the Capitol its victory and its ownership over them. Despite being the only couple without a literal connection to the Hanging Tree (and being a fake couple at the time of their actions) Katniss and Peeta most truly embody the spirit of the song, which Lucy Gray calls “too rebellious” (491). The song is meaningful on a broader level because it subverts the symbol of the Hanging Tree, which is meant to be an instrument for the Capitol’s control, and turns into a symbol of love and hope for freedom and resistance that would rather die than submit to the Capitol. Katniss later takes this song and transforms it into an anthem for the rebellion. In fact, it’s compared by Lucy Gray and Coriolanus to the Capitol’s anthem, saying it “has authority” like “when [Coriolanus] sang the anthem in the Capitol” (491). Katniss gives it the platform to be the rival anthem that it was destined to be, and she uses it to attack Snow. Lucy Gray haunts Coriolanus through the Hunger Games trilogy through her songs. These songs which are all that remains of the girl he betrayed and destroyed, come back as weapons against him, brandished as symbols of all that he and his tyranny stand against. 

Beyond her general association with music, Lucy Gray is associated with birds. Her musical nature makes her a songbird like that of the title and her family is deemed “the Covey”-- covey is a word which means “a small party or flock of birds”. The way she is continually conscious of her appearance early in her time in the Capitol evokes a bird preening, as the ruffles of her brightly colored dress evoke feathers. Coriolanus ends up dealing with birds through his work as a peacekeeper, rounding up jabberjays and mockingjays. While his team member shows an affinity for birds, Coriolanus does not. He specifically notes that while some people “just understand birds” he is certain “that he would never be one of those people” (413). In an immediate sense, this once again signals a distance between him and Lucy Gray. She is a bird that he can never understand. In contrast, Lucy Gray has an affinity for snakes. The clearest counterpart for snakes is Coriolanus himself. His use of poison in this book and the Hunger Games trilogy creates the suggestion that he is venomous (especially when the evidence of his poisoning is found in the sores in his mouth). Dr. Gaul also breeds deadly snakes in the same way that she grooms Coriolanus into the man he becomes. Her snakes ignore him as if he is one of them. And Lucy Gray “always knows where [snakes] will be” (433). She uses her understanding of snakes to her advantage, dropping one down Mayfair’s dress, leaving one as a trap for Coriolanus, and poisoning Treech with one. The snakes in the Games end up drawn to her and soothed by her singing. Coriolanus is drawn to her and her singing in the same way, and likewise is used by her to win the Games. Lucy Gray seems to understand Coriolanus in a way that he can never understand her. However, she may have confused him for one of the non-venomous snakes from District 12, rather than a snake specifically bred to kill by Dr. Gaul. Or perhaps she subconsciously knows the truth about him since she states, “I love all kinds of things I don’t trust… snakes. Sometimes I think I love them because I can’t trust them” (441). Regardless of how his role of a snake attracts Lucy Gray, her role as a bird creates tension with Coriolanus. The wildness of the birds unsettles him. He expresses the belief that they’d be happier in a cage, but both Bug and Lucy Gray believe the birds should be free (418, 421). It reflects Coriolanus’s relationship with nature in general. It cannot be controlled and so he dislikes it. When he first sees the woods he is afraid of them; “the disorder alone felt disturbing” (348). This is a stark contrast to both Lucy Gray, who frequents the woods with the Covey, and Katniss who thrives in the woods. In similar fashion, the plant that Katniss is named for, and which aids in Lucy Gray’s survival (435, 497) grows wild, while Coriolanus’s signature flower, his roses, are domesticated and highly cultivated. Coriolanus likes only what he can control. It’s when he realizes that he cannot control Lucy Gray that he turns on her. This distinction takes on further relevance in his specific response to the jabberjays and the mockingjays

Coriolanus appreciates the jabberjays because they can be controlled easily with a simple remote control. Mockingjays, however, represent the uncontrollable. His reaction to them is immediate: “he’d spotted his first mockingjay, and he disliked the thing on sight” (352). Later he advocates killing all the mockingjays because “they’re unnatural” and “he distrusted their spontaneous creation. Nature running amok” (417). Lucy Gray on the other hand loves the mockingjays. When the mockingjays take up her song “the Covey were all smiles” and Tam Amber asserts “like sandstones to diamonds, that’s what we are to them” (439). Here Coriolanus expresses that what he fears most is that the mockingjays have removed “the Capitol birds from the equation” (439). He deeply believes in the need for the Capitol to maintain control, so something that openly flouts the need for the Capitol’s influence is both frightening and a threat to the beliefs that define him. Coriolanus eventually uses the jabberjays (a symbol of Capitol control) to betray Sejanus. In return, Lucy Gray uses the mockingjays to protect herself from Coriolanus as he hunts her (504). If she survived the encounter, it is because of the mockingjays. With his transformation into Snow complete, he is able to return to the Capitol. When he looks back on his time in District 12, he views Lucy Gray not as a lost love but as a conquered threat. Because Lucy Gray was someone he could not control he repaints her in his memory as someone who manipulated him and made him feel jealous and weak (516). But with his new power Snow is assured that “she and her mockingjays could never harm him again” (516). The memories have been twisted to associate Lucy Gray with mockingjays and in turn with harm done to him, though neither has ever actually harmed him. However, knowledge of the Hunger Games trilogy reveals the clear irony of his statement. Katniss uses the mockingjays to help her in the Games and makes them a tool for herself. They then become a symbol of the rebellion for the very reason that he initially hated them. Katniss comes to embody the things that mockingjay symbolizes and she and that symbol are the rallying point for the rebellion. Because of the Mockingjay that he can never predict, understand or control, everything Snow is and has built is destroyed. 

Lucy Gray is a vibrant character that tempts Coriolanus toward a better life and a better way of being. Everything about her symbolizes a potential for good within him in his early years. However, he fully and irrevocably rejects that good. In doing so he commits his first great sin and destroys Lucy Gray. But he is unable to entirely destroy her. In fact, he’s never even sure if he killed her. Instead, she stays on as a ghost girl, her influence haunting District 12. From her influence rises Katniss, the Girl on Fire, like a phoenix rising from the ashes of the songbird Snow killed. Katniss is symbolically linked to Lucy Gray, but at the same time wholly distinct. Through her, Lucy Gray haunts Snow as punishment for his crimes. This link between the Songbird and the Mockingjay represents the way that Snow’s evil paved the way for his own destruction, but more importantly it shows that the things which he rejects and opposes and tries to kill cannot be destroyed. The spark of hope cannot be put out, beauty will not be tamed, and rebellion cannot stay dead in the face of tyranny. Those things were always destined to destroy him. Though The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes may end with “Snow lands on top,” Lucy Gray is the persistent reminder that “The show’s not over until the mockingjay sings.” 

[ellanainthetardis]

Alright, this will be my review for The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes so obviously spoilers under the cut.

Also obviously, this is my opinion, I force no one to share it and I’m happy to discuss the book with anyone who wants to. 

First off, I won’t go into all the deep themes in the books. It seems obvious to me there’s a very clever allegory for a contrat social at work here but since I am not very much interested in that, I will leave it aside. It’s well done, I think, but I am more a character driven sort of reader than theme driven and the debate over “are we the product of our environment or is man a beast at heart” is a bit null here. Surely enough, as one of the quotes at the beginning implies, the whole book more or less struggles to show Dr Gaul somehow turns Coryo into a monster to her Frankenstein… Sure, he seems to hesitate between right and wrong, the nature of the two etc etc. But, really, I have troubles relating to a character questioning the nature of man when that character is so plainly a psychopath himself.

I’m sorry. I said it.

Did I love Snow in this book? Sure. Even when he was being bad, I loved him. What’s not to love? He’s completely over-dramatic. All the time. He’s a complex character with Draco Malfoy vibes and who tries to do well by his family. But he is also sick in the head and that predates Dr Gaul’s little mind games. Can we argue it’s because of his traumatic childhood? Maybe. It doesn’t change the fact he equals love with possession, does not seem to experience remorse nor guilt – or at least not very long and he’s  very quick to rationalize it – and has a natural ability to mimic or force himself to act as is expected in any given situation. He doesn’t react  to things, you will notice, he behaves the way he thinks people expects him to.

So, he is sick. And since he is sick, the whole debate through his head about the nature of violence, men being beasts without laws, freedom versus enforcement, right and wrong, etc seems void.

Let’s leave that aside for now.

The question you will probably ask me is: did you like the book? And the answer I will give is yes I did. I did enjoy the book. At least the first two third of it.

It’s fast paced, it’s engaging, it’s easy to read…

What I like most is the worldbuilding. What a difference a 3rd pov makes… I mean we finally got all the world building we deserved. And the names. Actually, there were so many names in there I’m pretty sure she threw them as a joke. But, yeah. Everything I reproach Thg was fixed here: we have a more consistent idea of how the Games work out of the arena, we know the currency used is dollars (which we didn’t up until now), we have a  better idea of how the Capitol works as a society, about the working of Peacekeepers and Districts… I quite enjoyed learning more about the 1st war and the post war world too.

I also enjoyed the Capitol families Cameos – and I was very wary about them if you read some of my posts pre-released. They were nice nods, it wasn’t too on the nose…  I am relieved beyond measure not to have seen a mention of an Abernathy or a Trinket – or an Everdeen or a Mellark, I guess – mostly because that means we are still free to stick to our own hcs. (it’s not that important but still).

The cast of characters were all great – with two notable exceptions but I will come back to that.

I loved Snow’s family. What a surprise to find out Tigris is a Snow? But what joy she is. I really enjoyed her character but I have to say I’m a bit disappointed we didn’t get to see (or at least were told in the epilogue) how they grow apart or how she comes to have whiskers. The Grandma’am was an awesome addition too. Lucy Gray, the Coveys, the Peacekeepers, Sejanus, the other mentors…  They were great.

I will argue that maybe Lucy Gray, as a main character (second main character? She’s the yin to his yang in this book) could have been more fleshed out because when it comes down to it, she seems to float around in the story only in relation to Snow. This being said and the pov being mostly Snow’s, it’s coherent with his egocentric view of the world. And I’m sure a lot of people will argue the case that her only purpose being to die so he can get over love is a bit problematic better than I could.

The two characters that I think were disappointing were the “villains” of the tale: Dr Gaul and Highbottom. They were actually so disappointing that I spent a good portion of the book convinced that here was some kind of secret plot, that there would be a conspiracy or something. But no, they were just that… flat.

Highbottom first: the creator of the Hunger Games who, obviously, didn’t mean to and ends up doctoring himself with morphling to forget. And seems to hate Coryo (yes that’s Snow’s nickname) for no obvious reason. I was sure there must be some twist but no, it just turned out he hates Snow because his father stole his Hunger Games idea to pitch it to Gaul for a grade and now he’s responsible for the death of kids. Which, I mean, is valid. But since it’s only here to bring into contrast the “is Snow really bad or have the circumstances make him bad” when, really, he’s a psycho, it ends up being very disappointing on discovery – never mind as the final reveal of the epilogue.  

As for Gaul. Is she terrifying? I mean, for a young adult book, sure, I guess. She’s too obviously mean and crazy scientist for me though. I like my villains a little more subtle. She spent her times torturing her pet rabbit and various animals ffs. All she needed was a mustache to twirl. She’s cliché and, again, I’m sure it was like that for rhetoric purposes but… She’s Frankenstein and Snow is her creature, we get it. Why though? She takes a shine to him and proceeds to groom him so he can deliver the world she wants? So he’s her legacy? Because she’s a psycho too and she needs an apprentice? I thought that part was a little fishy because, at the end of the day… I don’t know, it seems a bit random.

But, I suppose, yet again, everything has to revolve around Snow in the book and in Panem.

And we’re touching to the part that annoyed me to death, that really really angered me and that, right now as we speak, I am a little disgusted by.

A short word first about the fan service. And there was plenty of that to go around. All the little wink wink, nudge nudge made me smile at first (like the grandma saying it only takes a spark for fire to catch, that sort of things), it was subtle so it worked. But as the book goes on, all the references built to the point I was sort of terrified Katniss would end up being related to Snow. And while she is not, I am fairly convinced she’s descended from the Coveys, it makes a lot of sense.

Ok… Where to start with that part and be coherent…

The less offensive (yes, I am using that word because it was offending to me) thing was Snow’s recurring reflection about the mockingjays. On hindsight, of course, it has so much more meaning than what is going on on paper, so it made sense and while it was a bit sold too thick, it was also interesting. That’s something I’m willing to grant was good.

I also liked the “it’s not over until the Mockingjay sings” saying. To be honest, I was 100% confident the epilogue would be a flashforward to the end of MJ and that quote would somehow come back into play but apparently not, that’s for us to fanfic instead.  

Now, as for the rest… I am going to speak as someone who loves Haymitch Abernathy an unhealthy amount, and while I speak as someone who loves Haymitch, I also feel it is only minorly about Haymitch and a lot about Katniss, Peeta and the rest of the victors. But Haymitch is my favorite character in the series, Haymitch is a big part of why I have dedicated so much time writing fanfics and contributing to the fandom, I am very protective of Haymitch. And, on his behalf, I am so deeply, deeply offended.

In this book, Suzanne Collins makes Snow a victor.

We can argue the semantics. Naturally, he didn’t actually win the Hunger Games.

Or does he?

Because there are no winners, only survivors and by that very definition Coriolanus Snow is a victor.

Coriolanus Snow walked into an arena, was forced into the arena.

Coriolanus Snow fought in the arena.

Coriolanus Snow killed someone in the arena.

Coriolanus Snow walked back out of the arena.

He survived.

It makes him a de facto victor. He is actually literally called that a couple of times throughout the book. It’s reinforced by the idea that mentor and tribute are a team, even.

And this very idea that Snow is a victor, has been a victor all along, is so deeply, deeply upsetting to me. The bond between victors, it’s something very special, I feel. Victors share something nobody else can understand – my very favorite part of the whole series is in Catching Fire when they hold hands, it is such a strong emotional moment, it always moves me, always. And Snow being a part of that defiles it. Worse, that means a victor was actually the one imposing such horrors on other victors all along.

And that’s… I mean, probably in terms of themes and the story as an independent object, it’s all very ironic and dark and full of great meaning about man and it’s condition. But for someone who loves Haymitch, it is very deeply offending to learn the man who has taken everything from him went through the same experience he did, that they share that bond, that they have so many similarities.

Too many similarities actually. And here we are going to branch out on TBOSAS in relation to Katniss more specifically.

That’s another thing I am not sure I liked: how similar Snow’s conditions were to our beloved characters. The starvation, the very similar experience they had growing up.

At first, I didn’t mind it. I thought, even, that it was quite fitting. But the problem came when so much of Katniss’ story was being… stolen, turned around. It started feeling like this book was subverting the powerful story in THG, not just the main plot, but everlark, and the character building. So, of course, here again, it’s probably a matter of questioning if, stemming from the same conditions, you become a hero or a villain. Nature or nurture. That sort of things. And, again, it depends if you look at the big picture and analyze it calmly or if you react with your guts as a fan, I guess. Yeah, no surprise, I’m going the fan route.

So there were a lot of parallels to Katniss.

The starvation. The strong sense of family. Lucy and the singing…

And it wasn’t limited to Katniss, it touched to everlark too.

The star-crossed lovers thing comes to mind obviously (and I want to talk about the ship too but after). Then, there was the bread thing that was both Snow’s and Lucy’s favorite and the fact that Snow brings her food all the time.  The poison in the arena we can land at snow’s door since it’s his weapon of choice, but still poison in the arena, my mind goes straight to the berries… (I will tackle the hanging tree song after)

At this point (before she goes in the arena), I was still mostly okay with it because I thought it would somehow have a reason later. Like either Katniss would turn out to be related to Lucy or it would remain light enough to turn out to be foreshadowing for THG.

Then came part 3. And that’s where the book mostly lost me.

There are eleven other Districts in Panem. So why Twelve? And if it had to be Twelve why pollute everything Katniss loves? How are we supposed to see those things the same way again when we know what we now know?

The meadow? The meadow where the toastbabies are dancing and running? Where so many people are laid to rest? Snow has been there, kissed his girl there. And let me tell you, as a Haymitch fan, knowing that Haymitch never gets to reunite with his girl in the meadow because of Snow, it’s a special kind of pain to read Coryo frolicking there in the grass “with his girl”.

And then, of course, I don’t know what is worse… The lake or the song?

Let’s start with the lake. Where do I begin? The lake that is so special to Katniss? The little shack where she stocks everything? The lake that features into so many fanfictions and that, if some people feel the same way I do, can never be used again the same way? So, that lake was where Snow murdered (possibly) his “love”. The lake, thus, becomes a part of Snow’s narrative.

It’s stolen away from Katniss.

And to better stress that point? The scene with the Mockingjays taking up the hanging tree when Lucy is about to get murdered. (let’s make a digression to say oh boy how fun it must have been for Snow during mj, I’m very tempted to fanfic THAT). It’s all very full of symbolism, of course, but with the hindsight? It’s another great important moment stolen away from Katniss. Highjacked. Not unlike a mutt, actually. This book is a mutt XD

Which brings me to what really, really made me angry: the hanging tree song.

That song is so symbolic of MJ and everlark. I mean, there’s one thing I will give MJ the movie and that’s this scene with the song. The people attacking the dam and getting butchered while humming that song? Iconic. But more prosaically, book based, that song is such such a powerful moment. It’s special. And not only because of all the thing with everlark and the tree and midnight.

And suuuuure there might be a lot of symbolism in that song being not strictly about but still intimately related to Snow. Sure. But you know? It’s also another thing that now is about Snow. So even as Katniss was singing that song, getting the Districts to rebel, showing Peeta that District 12 was gone, letting the Mockingjays by the lake take up the chorus… It isn’t just about hope or freedom anymore. Now, it’s about Snow and about how terribly ironic it is this particular song comes to be his demise, how it’s fate or karma or whatever you want to call it. Because now, we can’t unread this book, we can’t unknown what we know.

And I hate that.

Because Katniss’ journey in THG? It’s now so deeply linked to Snow’s story that if you take a step back and think, it’s more all about Snow than it is about her, or her sister or the Districts. Snow lands on top, right?

And you know what really irks me?

The book is actually good as a character study book (not really so much as dystopia because in terms of actual plot, I feel there was really little) but it didn’t have to taint so many elements of THG the way it does.

Let’s say for a moment Snow isn’t Snow. Let’s say he is a wealthy Capitol fallen from grace and that character who is not going to be the President of Panem has the same journey Coryo does. Let’s say at the end of the story, he moves on to become a famous Head Gamemaker or a close advisor to the President?

Well, the themes explored then remained the same, the conclusions remained the same. We lose the visceral signification of his connection to the mockingjays but is that really important? The Hanging Tree now has a resonance for another character in that world, the meadow has probably seen countless lovers reunions and someone killed someone else at the lake, those things happen. The problem is they happen to Coriolanus Snow.

And baring that, let’s say we keep Snow as a main, why did it have to be Twelve? Again, there are eleven other Districts in Panem. He could have come to the very same conclusions in any other place.

Twelve is only relevant in relation to what happens in THG, to Katniss, to Peeta, to Haymitch.

Lucy and the Covey could have ended up stuck in any other Districts. It didn’t have to be Twelve. It didn’t have to spoil the Meadow, or the lake or even the Hanging Tree song.

Is that why Snow hates Twelve so much? Is that why he kills Haymitch’s family even if it’s completely stupid and leaves him without a leash around a Quell’s victor’s neck? Is that why he bombs the Districts into complete oblivion ? Not to punish its victors but because he so intimately hates the place? Because he walked in their very shoes? Because, for a brief time, from his Frankenstein’s experiment, he played in the mud?

For that matter, is that why he has this weird relationship with Katniss? Because she reminds him of Lucy? The similarities are there if you look…  Is Katniss a sort of ghost to him? Come back to haunt him after all those decades? Is that why it feels so personal between them?

I will say a quick word about the ship: I was into it at first. Then there was this scene at the zoo after the snake attack on Clemmie and I felt everything started going downhill from there. The ship is rushed. They go from attraction to love in ten seconds FLAT. I know it’s YA and concessions have to be made (although I will argue I read plenty of YA and some ships don’t seem this juvenile), I made them on account of the fact they’re both young and prone to being drama queens.

(I’m making a brief parenthesis because, rereading this, I realized I did say when the book announcement came out and we all very obviously predicted the romance, that as a hayffie fan I hated the thought Snow would have a Capitol/District romance, but on that account, I have to say after reading I don’t even care because it felt so immature and so not actual love, that I don’t feel it really counts? But at the same time, it’s definitely something I have to think upon in terms of hayffie and Snow because would his own experience play in the way he sees them/manipulates/threatens them?)

All in all, though, that ship didn’t convince me. I couldn’t believe it was real. On either part. On Snow’s part because I’m  not certain he’s capable of love. He equals love with possession,  “his” girl, she “belongs” to him, he liked her better locked in the zoo because he knew where to find her, he constantly questions Lucy’s loyalties… Every  time she sings something, he’s like “is it about me? Is it about me? It’s not about me? Who is it about? I hate her. She’s dead to me. Oh but now she’s singing she’s over him. So I love her again”. Being in his head is a journey, let me tell you.

As for Lucy, it’s frustrating. But with Collins, I learned long ago to be frustrated (hey, hayffie fan here XD. You know the two characters you need to build your own hc about if you want to use them with some depths). You can feel there’s this whole backstory about her but we never get to really touch that and so we’re treated to this very strange scene with the ex-lover but we don’t really care because there is  no passion, nowhere… In fact, as a character, outside of her singing, her being a show girl, and her little discourse about how man should be free, live and let live yada yada yada, Lucy’s character is very flat in the third part of the book. She’s here only to allow Coryo’s character development.

I would argue that Sejanus actually makes more of an impact on Snow and the general plot than she does in part 3 – or, if you think about it, in the book in general. Lucy is the trigger that gets Coryo’s reflection starting about the hunger games but it’s really Sejanus that challenges it and keeps it going. Sejanus is, in fact, the District character since Snow keeps telling himself the Covey aren’t really Twelve.

I  also want to say, on a completely unrelated note, that the constant mansplaying of songs by Snow was unbearable. And that’s not his fault. So, Mrs Collins, I know how to interpret a text thank you. And I’m sure everyone else does to. It broke the pace and the emotion so much for me when he started randomly explaining. The Lucy Gray ballad was the worst. “she’s dead.” NO KIDDING SHERLOCK.

And while we’re in that Lucy Gray thing: very subtle foreshadowing here, btw. Didn’t see it coming at all.

Ah and also something that made me cringe and that I felt was very out of place: the livestock cars and the cages at the zoo. Not to go all social justice warrior but when I read, it immediately hit home and not in the right way. It felt like a prop to stress how inhumane and racist the Capitol was being, they were easy references to loaded terrible horrifying history events and I truly, truly thought it was borderline because, like I said, it was used as a prop.

To conclude.

Is this book great? Yes and No.

I think if you take it independently of THG, it’s a very good book. It’s interesting, the characters are compelling, there is a moral for you to reflect on… It’s not the best dystopian book I’ve read in recent years, it’s not the best young adult book I’ve read in this lockdown (Hi, do yourself a facor, check out the Shadow of the Fox trilogy and then come shout at me in my ask box) but it was still a good read. And I forgot to say but the first half of the novel is actual crack. It was hillarious. Might not have been the intent but come on. It was funny. (and I’m satly they sent him in the arena but they sent him with a can of pepper spray and that will make me laugh forever) I had  a good time and, at the end of the day, that’s what you ask of novels.

However, in the general context of the series, loving thg as much as I do, it tainted some of the iconic things, twisted them, insulted some of my most favorites characters, and that really dampened my joy and made me angry. So as a fan… I’m not sure I can say it was great, no.

It certainly didn’t let me indifferent though and that’s already something.

And, I mean, it is so much better than the cursed child I feel I cannot complain too much.

 It also does leave the door rather open to a sequel, doesn’t it? I wouldn’t be surprised if there’s another announcement soon.  

[hutchhitched]

Social Commentary on The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes, Part II

I made it through Part 2 before I attempted to go to bed last night. I didn’t end up sleeping, so apologies for any half-baked (pun intended) ideas and commentary. Admittedly, I don’t have as much on this part, but it’s certainly not because I don’t love every speck of this book. It’s so good, and it’s brilliantly woven and presented to us. If you want to read my commentary on Part 1, it’s here.

Spoilers below:

 It didn’t take long into Part 2 for the third book title to appear. Lucy Gray mentions mockingjays, and Snow seems lost. It’s convenient that she can’t explain what she means because I’m positive that’s going to come up again in the next part, and I’m sure it’s going to have a very important role. Otherwise, Snow wouldn’t be so put off by and intrigued by one (Katniss) in the original trilogy.

 One thing that stuck out for me in Part 2 is the December 15 date, a sort of Memorial Day for fallen military heroes mentioned in chapter 12 (National Heroes Day). The date itself didn’t ring any bells for me, but I know by now that Collins doesn’t do anything without it having a meaning, so I googled…wait for it…the date of the Sandy Hook Massacre. December 14. The next day is December 15, when Panem honors the fallen and delivers a gift basket full of luxury items to the families who lost loved ones. A gift basket full of “thoughts and prayers” would do just about as much good as we memorialize the dead in the days following a mass shooting but then allow the war to keep raging. The same could be said for the way we say “Thank you for your service” to military vets but do a terrible job of helping them with PTSD and re-entry into society. I do love the turkey story, though. At least Snow got some food out of the deal.

 I really love that we know now where the muttations come from in this world. Dr. Gaul is absolutely wacko, and I can’t quite figure out how much power she has. In fact, I can’t really figure out how much power anyone has. The President is remarkably absent. Dr. Gaul is there and seems to like Snow, but there’s no sense that she can protect him from Dean Highbottom, who seems to have the most direct influence over Snow. I just can’t figure out why. What kind of connections does Highbottom have that allow him to manipulate Snow’s life so completely? Clearly, there’s some bad blood between Snow’s father and Highbottom, and I’m waiting anxiously for that reveal. Also, that wasn’t a throwaway in Part 1 when we find out Highbottom was the one who came up with the idea of the Games in the first place. That’s got to factor in again. He’s hiding something, and Snow’s father is most likely a Very Bad Man.

 Dr. Gaul’s name is fabulous, too, although I’m sure there’s a lot of symbolism I’m not really getting about it. Gaul was a Roman province during the Empire—basically where the country of France is today. Gaul sacked a Roman city or two and embarrassed Rome, and Rome retaliated by conquering Gaul for the next few hundred years. I’ve oversimplified it, but that’s the gist. Why does Dr. Gaul have that name? Not sure, but maybe that’s coming in Part 3. I love that she’s a woman, too. Suzanne Collins doesn’t have time for that BS about women being naturally more nurturing and good than men.

 Which brings us to Lucy Gray. That snake charming thing she had going on was absolutely amazing. Lucky Gray is manipulative and charming and a performer and hiding something, and I am here for it. She’s smart, and she uses all the weapons at her disposal to survive while still retaining some humanity by caring for Jessup after his demise. I do not think she’s a hero. I’m not even sure she’s a flawed hero. I don’t trust her at all, but I admire her plucky spirit. She’s got levels I haven’t seen yet.

 And Snow loves her, which is just…I’m waiting for the climax. I think Lucy Gray is playing him, and I’ve felt that way since she first met him. There’s a connection there, yes, but Snow’s proven many times in this book that the world doesn’t work the way he thinks it should. He’s been surprised too many times. He’s tried to hold on and control things, but events happen that he doesn’t want, and all he can do is respond to them as best he can. He’s not doing very well at that. At all.

 The Games take second place for me in this book, which I think is pretty deliberate. This is Snow’s story, after all, and he’s not in the Hunger Games. Except he is because Dr. Gaul sends him into the arena (and Highbottom says they’re all in the Games, which is another throwaway that will come back, I’m sure). She wants to teach him a lesson and then gives him a homework assignment on it. It’s telling that he admits he wanted to kill the tributes. Not for self-defense but because they’re a perceived threat. He admits he wanted to kill them even after he’s back to safety, which shows his slide. And the homework assignment of having to write about Chaos, Contract, and Control, which he can’t do. And his attempt to extort money from the Plinths that he can’t execute and simply accepts their thanks and food. And his resolve to stop cheating and win the right way, his examination of the slippery slope and his justifications and so on. Because we’ve all been there. Justifying something and saying “no more!” and then messing up again. It could be any of us. It really could.

 Random things before I stop:

 The Capitol citizens are not the vapid, materialistic, soulless people we see in the original trilogy. Sure, there’s some of that there, but it’s nothing like it will be 64 years later.

 The development of the Games is interesting. The drones and betting and sponsors and the first intervention with the snakes and lack of cameras are all things that develop over time. The Tenth Games are a completely different world than the ones Katniss and Peeta experience.

 Snow really, really, really cannot convince people that Sejanus is not his friend. Ever felt like you’ve screamed something into the void a million times and no one takes it seriously? Yeah, I hear him on that one. Perception, not reality, is everything, in this case.

 After the housing crisis of 2008, I can understand the fear Snow has of losing his home. The war destroyed his family’s fortune and will result in losing their home and status. That (and really bad deregulation of industry and a lot of mismanagement and corruption) did that for a lot of people when the housing market crashed.

 Snow hopes for so much as the Games wind down. He wants Lucy Gray back (as his girlfriend? as a possession? as someone who finally “gets” him?), and what he gets is a peacekeeper position instead of the Plinth Prize and a relationship. I’m positive his interaction with Lucy Gray isn’t over. Perhaps he’s shipped off to District 12 where she breaks his heart all over again? The Covey’s coming, isn’t it?

 There’s so much to cover in Part 3. Onward!

 (PS, I don’t like Snow, by the way. I don’t think he’s evil in this book, but he’s no angel. He’s reacting poorly to circumstances and making bad choices, but he’s also trying to hold things together just like any person does. Nothing excuses his later behavior, but he’s becoming a villain, not born one.)

[cogentranting]

Tracing the Fall of Snow

*Warning: Full Spoilers for the book*

The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes is a story about human nature. Within it characters embracing different philosophies (Collins cites Rousseau, Locke, Hobbes, and the Romantics) are thrown together and their philosophies tested. While characters like Lucy Gray, Sejanus, and Dr. Gaul are fixed in their outlook, Coriolanus is not. This book asks questions about human nature, while also crafting an origin story for the evil tyrant we see in the original Hunger Games trilogy. 

When we meet Coriolanus in this book, he’s not evil. But he’s not good either. He’s closest to being a “blank slate”-- a Locke theory that Collins describes as a “theory in which all we know comes from experience”. Coriolanus at the start of the book is not fully a blank slate, but he’s a mix of his experiences and influences. We’re shown the way he connects with Tigris and the Grandma’am. Generally positive relationships. However, we also see his elitism, his ambition, and his disdain for the districts. In essence, the competing forces can be summed up in two representatives: his parents. His mother was gentle and sweet, and loved music. His father was hard and cold and went to war. 

Coriolanus’s development over the book is complicated but generally negative. He’s disgusted by the cruelty of Dr. Gaul, but excels in her way of thinking. He is saddened and horrified by his classmates’ deaths, but quickly moves past his initial grief reaction to focus on his own interests (e.g. writing the proposal for class, or criticizing the portrayal of Arachne at her funeral). It could even be claimed that his initial reaction was not grief at all, merely a reaction to the violence and chaos. Which, as an interpretation, leads us to the central question of his development: his relationship with Lucy Gray. 

Coriolanus’s two “closest” connections-- Sejanus and Lucy Gray-- are two characters who are cast in positive light, though to different degrees. Sejanus we are meant to view as good and noble. Coriolanus is perceived as being very close to Sejanus, going from friends, to best friends to “like brothers”. But Coriolanus’s inner monologue, as expressed through the narration, makes it clear that this is all a show. All of the actions that Coriolanus takes which are perceived as demonstrations of support and friendship are really done with his own good in mind: he hands out sandwiches with Sejanus so that his own tribute will get food; he goes into the arena because he is forced to; he goes to check on Sejanus’s injury in the hopes that the Plinths will reward him. The narration never indicates any sort of affection from Coriolanus. The most positive reaction he ever has to Sejanus is when he first joins him in District 12, but even then Coriolanus’s excitement is for the news and ideas that Sejanus brings. Sejanus himself is really only appreciated for being “someone to talk to who knew his world and, more importantly, his true worth in that world” (344). Coriolanus appreciates having someone who can appreciate him; he does not value Sejanus himself. 

The same distinctions can be drawn within the more central relationship between Lucy Gray and Coriolanus.However, Lucy Gray is-- as her name suggests-- a more gray character than Sejanus, and the connections between her and Coriolanus are proportionately more complicated. While Sejanus’s motives and actions are generally clear, Lucy Gray is at times ambiguous. She is generally kind, cares for her family, values freedom and beauty. She does not condone or value killing like some characters, but unlike Sejanus she does kill in self defense, and unlike him, she has no noble cause she fights for. There are also points of distinct ambiguity-- what were her intentions with the snake at the reaping? Do Billy Taupe’s comments about her suggest a complicated past? And most significant, did/would she turn on Coriolanus at the end? 

Coriolanus believes that he loves Lucy Gray. However, much like with Sejanus, the narration does relatively little to suggest that this is the case. When the narration shows his thoughts, it rarely, if ever, reveals thoughts about him liking her. Most of the time their relationship is discussed in terms of him wanting her to want him. Rather than actual affection we see possessiveness. His strongest emotions come when she sings about or speaks to Billy Taupe. This aggravates Coriolanus because his possession of her feels threatened. During the interviews before the games his mindset is expressed in this way: “Hi girl. His. Here in the Capitol, it was a given that Lucy Gray belonged to him, as if she’d had no life before her name was called out at the reaping”(172). When that idea is challenged by a song about another boy-- note: not even current lover, an ex-- Coriolanus feels “betrayed” and “humiliated” as if Lucy Gray has wronged him by existing separate from him. When she does eventually sing a song directed at him, Coriolanus’s first instinct is not to respond directly to her, but to make sure his ownership of her is noted, thinking that “it was nice, after all, to have someone else who knew the significance of the song” and wanting “to tell people around him. I’m her true love. And I saved her life” (367).  Throughout the relationship, Coriolanus is paranoid about having Lucy Gray stolen away by Billy Taupe. Even after his rivals death when he and Lucy Gray are planning on running away together “he would have preferred not to meet up at her old lover’s rendezvous spot” (486). Jealousy is still the primary emotion defining their relationship. 

In the same way that selfish acts were perceived as being for Sejanus, many of Coriolanus’s actions are interpreted as being for Lucy Gray when they are not. The basis of their relationship is that he helped her survive the games. She sees this as him saving her life and risking everything for her. He even begins to take this view of his own actions himself, seeing it as a grand act of love where he “risked everything to save her in the Games… risked it all again to save her from Mayfair”(480). But his motivations during the actual games were clear; he was trying to win in order to secure his own future. Again in the murder of Mayfair,  where his first thought was “with her would go his entire future” (460). In both instances, Lucy Gray’s wellbeing was secondary, if a consideration at all. The truth of his feelings come out when he for the first time is asked to actually give up something solely for her. When the climax of the book comes and he has the choice of giving up the life he’s dreamed of to run away with Lucy Gray, or to go train in District 2, it’s revealed that his love-- the one noble thing he could potentially be credited with at this point-- isn’t real. It’s not even just that the love isn’t strong enough. He doesn’t just choose his ambition over love. If he had he would have just left her. Instead, he instantly turns on her and tries to kill her, suddenly projecting his own deviousness onto her as he convinces himself she would destroy him if he left her alive. 

The falseness of Coriolanus’s positive instincts are seen elsewhere as well, even at the start of the novel. He claims that he has a strong moral compass, and Tigris calls him a good person, but this view of Coriolanus is never demonstrated. Similarly, Ma Plinth believes Coriolanus to be compassionate and generous, though the reader knows the truth of his motivations toward Sejanus and the Plinth family.  Most people in Coriolanus’s life see him as a better person than he really is. Part of this is because, even before his real descent into evil begins, he’s highly manipulative. This is most clearly demonstrated through his hyperfixation with appearances. The attempts to dress as if his family is still wealthy, and control how he acts around food are harmless enough. The real origin of his downward spiral is in how he manipulates emotions. Particularly in his Academy interactions, Coriolanus’s reactions are more often expressed in terms of what attitude or emotion he’s trying to convey, than what he’s actually feeling. The most glaring early example of this in action comes with Arachne’s death; when she is attacked he goes forward to help her, not because he has anything to offer or because he it is his impulse to help, but because “he did not want to be seen cringing and clinging” (180).  Even before he begins to do wrong things, Coriolanus seems to lack a nature that pushes him to do right things. 

Still, early in the book Coriolanus does have things that could be considered good. He has a fondness for his mother. He is reviled by the violence and by Dr. Gaul. He is loved by and to some degree cares for people like Tigris and Lucy Gray. So despite his potentially sociopathic traits, he is a dynamic character who goes from being a neutral force to an evil one. This descent is demonstrated through the deaths he causes. 

Coriolanus’s descent is demonstrated through seven deaths. The first is Arachne. This death is not Coriolanus’s fault, he does not wish for it, and he actively tries to prevent it, despite his motives being less than heroic. This is the baseline for Coriolanus’s moral character. The second death does not actually occur-- Clemensia. Here Coriolanus is present for the attack (which could have killed her) and makes a minor attempt to intervene, but after he becomes more aware of the situation he does nothing; he does not visit her in the hospital, he does not tell her parents, and he does not reveal the truth of her attack. For this instance, he is passive and does nothing to prevent a potential murder out of fear. The third death is Bobbin. Coriolanus kills Bobbin out of self defense, though the force used is excessive and the death itself could perhaps have been prevented without endangering his own life. Still, it’s something he was forced into to defend his own life. The fourth death is Sejanus. This death is a betrayal. Coriolanus does it to protect himself but in a more calculated, self-serving sense. However, though the betrayal was intentional, the death was not, and Coriolanus seems to have genuinely not intended for Sejanus to die. The fifth death is Mayfair.This one is murder. Coriolanus justifies this murder by calling it self defense, but it is his “future” that he worries for in the moment that he kills her, not his life. There is no panic or instinct this time-- it’s cold blooded, killing an enemy to protect his ambitions. The sixth death is Lucy Gray, though we’re left unsure whether or not she actually died. This one is premeditated, and the worst sort of betrayal. He claims to love Lucy Gray and yet tries to kill her to secure his own ambition. The seventh death is Dean Highbottom. Self-preservation was present in all the previous ones. This one is simply cold blooded for the sake of petty revenge, and perhaps ambition. 

However, Coriolanus’s murder of Lucy Gray (or attempted murder)  is the climax of his progression. The scene where he chases her is his final choice of which influences he will cave to. He chooses the Capitol and its control over freedom. He chooses himself over Lucy Gray. He chooses evil over good. And this is symbolized through the emblems of his father and mother. During the entire journey out of 12 and the chase, he is carrying his mother’s compact powder, pictures of his family and his father’s compass. His mother’s powder has been throughout the book a symbol of love and comfort. During the chase, this powder and the pictures are destroyed. These were items he treasured throughout the novel but here he “threw the whole thing in the trash” (506) with no mention of any emotion over this loss. His choices in the woods have destroyed his connection with the gentle loving mother. All that is left, is his father’s compass. From now one, he is steered by the influence of the cruel manipulative father* who first conceived the Hunger Games.  

The Epilogue demonstrates the fullness of this change, first through the casual murder of Dean Highbottom with the method that will become Snow’s signature. Second through the use of names. Through the entirety of the book, the narration refers to Coriolanus by his first name, separating him from the evil figure in the original trilogy. The Epilogue switches to referring to him exclusively as “Snow”, further embracing the legacy of his father, and clearly demonstrating that he has become the man we saw in the original trilogy. Coriolanus is dead and President Snow has been born.

*EDIT: His father who is responsible for the initial inception and instigation of the Hunger Games.