By way of admission, I know that I am not the target audience for "The Hunger Games." I passed the "young adult" marker a few miles back, and I probably won't be seeing it again anytime soon. That's okay with me, since it has also kept me free and clear from both Team Jacob and Team Edward. The down side has been a certain distance generated between myself and the young adult who lives with me. Though he eschews all things Twilight, he has been fully caught up in the flurry of Suzanne Collins' blockbuster trilogy. He read all three books and committed the details to memory, and was pleased with how readily those details were reproduced on the screen adaptation of the first book. His biggest frustration is the wait for the next movie.
This was my wife's reaction as well. She's more in touch with her inner young adult. She is also the one who started us all off on the road to Hogwarts before my son was able to read anything but Calvin and Hobbes. Happily, his interest in transmogrifying things easily translated into the world of Harry Potter, and we spent the decade leading up to Deathly Hallows periodically immersed in that world.
But when it came time to jump on the Katniss Everdeen bandwagon, I stayed behind. It might have something to do with the fact that we are just a few short years before Soylent Green becomes a staple in our pantries, and we missed Skynet becoming self-aware by a year now. Dystopian societies don't seem that frightening to me. If you want reality TV shows pitting angst-ridden teens against one another, the next "Sixteen and Pregnant" marathon is just minutes away on MTV.
Maybe I just don't get it. I already got "Logan's Run," "The Running Man," and "The Long Walk." I'm about ready for someone to write the first JOG novel, for us jaded old guys.
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