Peeling off the democratic mask
What the Hunger Games reveals about Philippine Society
More than gripping entertainment, Suzanne Collins’ literary trilogy the Hunger Games, sheds light on the wounds of our world. Panem, where the story happens, can be interpreted as a caricature of covert U.S. imperialism today. Geographically, Panem is located in ‘what used to be North America’ and similar to U.S. cities, residents of its capitol enjoy easy access to all kinds of food, the latest gadgets, and stylish clothing. In contrast, its districts look a lot like poorer countries where hard, dehumanizing labor are exploited to provide luxuries for urban centers. Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark, the lead characters, come from one of these districts.
Inequality between Panem’s cushy capitol and its struggling districts can be seen in another context as well. Those of us from Manila might observe in Collins’ novels a social parody of our own. It shows in provocative ways how clueless some of us can often be, and how this cluelessness can both be silly and sad at the same time.
Here’s one such scene. It takes place at a party thrown in honor of Katniss and Peeta at the President’s house. Katniss is overwhelmed by the feast’s luscious spread and quickly eats her fill. Soon after, her stylists notice she’s stopped eating and approach her with concern:
“Why aren’t you eating?” asks Octavia.
“I have been, but I can’t hold another bite,” I say. They all laugh as if that’s the silliest thing they’ve ever heard.
“No one lets that stop them!” says Flavius. They lead us over to a table that holds tiny stemmed wineglasses filled with clear liquid. “Drink this!”
Peeta picks one up to take a sip and they lose it.
”Not here!” shrieks Octavia.
You have to do it in there,” says Venia, pointing to doors that lead to the toilets. “Or you’ll get it all over the floor!”
Peeta looks at the glass again and puts it together. “You mean this will make me puke?”
My prep team laughs hysterically. “Of course, so you can keep eating,” says Octavia. “I’ve been in there twice already. Everyone does it, or else how would you have any fun at a feast?”
I’m speechless, staring at the pretty little glasses and all they imply.
— from Chapter 6, Catching Fire, Book 2 of the Hunger Games trilogy, by Suzanne Collins (2010)
The excerpt can be read on many levels, but two moments stand out : the stylists’ laughter at Peeta’s ignorance and the symbol Katniss perceives in the “pretty little glasses”.
For the stylists, banquets are meant for unbridled indulgence. The liquor in the glasses “empty” the gut so one can eat as much as maximum pleasure requires. They insist it’s the only way to “have fun”, and entice Katniss and Peeta to join in. K & P’s unknowing is taken as an amusing sign of their lack of cultural refinement. Octavia & co. can’t see that their reluctance comes from knowing hunger for most of their lives. Gastronomic indulgence while loved ones back home starve can’t just be about having fun.
We might dismiss the capitol stylists as unrealistically scandalous. True. But at least in some way, we behave like them when we assume too easily that just because everyone we know enjoys in a certain way, it must be ok. We have gotten used to not noticing that our luxuries are carried on tired backs we cannot see, by people we have not met. Because we seldom go past our comfortable capital, we can’t see how mere fun might leave others scarred and speechless, like those pretty tall glasses did for Katniss. (Just think of how much friends or relatives might spend on a single shopping trip or a good meal and compare that figure to the average weekly household income in one of our provinces.)
We forget that millions around us still struggle to find life’s basics: food, decent shelter, a just wage. Opportunities and resources are far from equally spread. Our purported democracy is the misleading mask. The Philippines is a lot like Panem once we take our blinders off.
I realize though how easy it is to forget. We are surrounded by attractive things and relative comfort: air-conditioned rooms, artful homes, and more than enough clothes. Attractive and comfortable things are arguments in themselves. Being surrounded by them tells us that all is alright.
But Katniss and Peeta’s characters remind us of the broader truth. They show us a side of our people’s daily story that is often left in the shadows — the side that suffers daily from not having even the bare minimum. In this way, the Hunger Games contains a much needed call to deeper empathy and compassion. The novels peel off the democratic mask, recognize the cloaked inequality around us, and challenge us to face good, but hard questions, such as: Can we still see through our “pretty tall glasses”? If not, what stops us? If so, are we doing enough to undo the indignity we see?
