The World of the Hunger Games Read online

  Contents

  Cover

  Title

  Introduction

  Welcome to Panem

  Life in the Districts

  Life in District 12

  People of District 12

  Katniss Everdeen

  At Home with Katniss Everdeen

  Reaping Day

  Life in the Capitol

  People of the Capitol

  Tributes in the Capitol

  Training for the Hunger Games

  Creatures of Panem

  Perils of the Hunger Games

  The Cornucopia

  Fear

  Injuries

  Alliances

  Defiance

  Rule Changes

  Love

  Lies

  Last Move

  The Game of Love

  After the Games

  The Hunger Games Glossary

  Copyright

  You know this world, where it’s easy to get confused between reality and reality TV.

  You know this place, where rich and poor live side by side but worlds apart.

  You, too, might question the choices a government makes on your behalf.

  You, too, have seen the environment abused, damaged beyond repair.

  This place is Panem, the world of The Hunger Games.

  But it has roots in a world you know already: your own.

  It’s not that hard to imagine a path from here to there. That’s part of what makes Suzanne Collins’s trilogy so mesmerizing. Drawing on Roman history, Greek mythology, war stories, and her long experience as a scriptwriter and storyteller, Collins has created a dystopian world that feels at once foreign and unsettling yet familiar.

  Now filmmakers have brought Collins’s world to life in all its color and complexity.

  If you’re trying to get oriented — or if you already know the way — let this book be your guide to the world of The Hunger Games.

  Long ago, this place was known as North America. That was before the droughts and the disasters, the storms and the fires, the floods and the war. That was before a powerful new force rose from the ashes to create order and rule with an iron hand.

  Now this place is called Panem. It consists of twelve districts surrounding one shining Capitol.

  The Capitol is Panem’s seat of power and its largest city. Nestled in a mountain range once called the Rockies, it towers above the districts and is accessible only through long tunnels. The mountains protect the Capitol from intruders and insulate it from the districts.

  The districts contain sparkling waters, lush forests, majestic mountains — and miserable people. These people fish those waters, fell those forests, and mine those mountains, all to meet the Capitol’s needs. But there is no feast quite big enough, no fashion quite new enough for the Capitol. The people of the districts give their labor — they give their lives — all to feed the Capitol’s insatiable appetites. Meanwhile, people are starving.

  Some districts are favored by the Capitol: those that produce weapons and luxury goods. There, at least, the people have enough to eat. But even they have no opportunity beyond what the Capitol dictates.

  Under such conditions, you might expect a revolution.

  That’s been tried before. During the Dark Days, the districts attempted rebellion. All were defeated, and one — District 13 — was destroyed. Now it’s a smoldering ruin, a reminder of what happens to those who defy the Capitol.

  The annual Hunger Games are another reminder. Every year, each district sends two tributes, a boy and a girl, to compete in a fight to the death on live TV. The message is clear. In retribution for the long-ago rebellion, the Capitol will take whatever it wants from the people of the districts. Even the lives of their children.

  The victor of the Hunger Games receives riches for life. His or her district is showered with gifts. Really, though, the Capitol is always the true winner.

  Panem is a place of nightmares, but it’s also a place we can understand, with its intractable injustices and its fine line between reality and “reality” as created for a broadcast. It’s like the world as we know it — gone terribly wrong.

  The districts of Panem share borders and waterways, a language and a government, but they’re completely isolated from one another. Fences surround each district. Cargo trains traverse the country carrying goods, but the distribution of goods is all controlled by the Capitol.

  Most people never leave their home districts. The Capitol makes sure of that.

  So though they share a language, communication between districts is difficult and dangerous. As a result, each district has developed distinct customs of its own. In District 12, for instance, it’s a sign of respect to the dead to touch three fingers to your lips and then release them. In other districts, local customs are closely tied to whatever the assigned industry is.

  Most of what the districts know about one another comes from the annual broadcast of the Hunger Games. Viewers see glimpses of other town squares during the reapings. They learn a little about the habits of the other districts as they watch the tributes in the arena.

  The Hunger Games are what passes for shared history among the people of Panem. One district will know nothing about the living conditions or latest news in the adjoining district, but people in both will remember the year the arena was a frozen tundra, or the year seventeen tributes died on the first day.

  That’s because everybody — everywhere — is required to watch the Games.

  Each district is dedicated to a particular industry, a particular task for the Capitol. Some districts make goods that are in great demand in the city. Other districts deliver raw materials or food.

  While the districts produce things, the Capitol consumes them as fast as it can. Fads come and go quickly in the Capitol — it’s the districts’ job to create whatever the Capitol wants at any given moment. The people of the Capitol have never known hunger. They don’t know about recycling, or care about sustainability. They want what’s new and what’s easy, whatever the cost to the districts.

  District 12 is Panem’s mining center, in a place that used to be called Appalachia. It is the poorest, least populated district — and the home of Katniss Everdeen, the female tribute in the Seventy-fourth annual Hunger Games.

  In District 12, the miners leave before sunrise to descend deep into the earth. They return after nightfall, if they return at all. Mine explosions, like the one that killed Katniss’s father, are common. At least once a year, though, the miners know they will see daylight. That’s on the day of the reaping, when the tributes for the Hunger Games are chosen.

  Most days, though, the miners return after dark to their houses in a scruffy neighborhood called the Seam, pushed to the edge of town. The district’s few merchants live closer to the center of town, set apart from the very poor. Even within the district, there is tension between the haves and the have-nots.

  In each district there’s a Victor’s Village, built to house the district’s Hunger Games winners in luxury. These days, the population of District 12’s Village is exactly one, and he’s rarely seen in public.

  Conditions in District 12 are dismal. Everything is falling apart, then patched back together. Since the district’s so poor, the Capitol doesn’t pay it much attention.

  Electricity is scarce here, which makes life difficult for the locals. But it also means that the power that feeds the electric confinement fences around the district is rarely on. That allows a brave few to fi
nd a way to fend for themselves.

  Here, the Capitol’s police — the Peacekeepers — mingle quite freely with the people. They’re not friends, exactly, but they’re not enemies either.

  There’s an abandoned warehouse in town that once held coal, before the Capitol created a new system that transports the coal directly from the mines to the Capitol. There, the people of District 12 trade essentials in a black market they call the Hob. To an outsider, this place seems like a junk shop. To the people here, it’s a lifeline. Markets like this are against the law, yet even the Peacekeepers come here for goods.

  While the Capitol looks the other way, a person might just gain a measure of freedom.

  She may be only sixteen, but Katniss Everdeen is the head of her family.

  She was eleven when her father died in the coal mines. The father who provided for his family. The father who taught her to hunt and to sing.

  When he died, it was as if Katniss and her sister, Prim, lost both parents at once. Their mother’s grief was so deep that she was unable to care for her daughters. She was unable to do anything except huddle in an old chair, staring into space, shut off from the world around her.

  While she stared, her daughters almost starved.

  Then, one rainy night, Katniss lingered longingly near the bakery, dizzy with hunger. Her classmate Peeta Mellark was baking bread inside. Then he was distracted for a moment, and the bread burned.

  Katniss froze as his mother berated him, hit him, and ordered him to throw the bread to their pigs. But a small miracle happened: Peeta threw it to Katniss instead. And that night, Katniss and her family feasted on the hearty bread.

  The next morning felt almost like spring. Katniss caught sight of a dandelion — an edible weed — growing from the dirt.

  In that moment, Katniss knew what she’d do next. Her father had taught her what plants were safe to eat. He had taught her how to hunt for game. She knew these activities were forbidden . . . yet it was her only chance for survival. And she was brave enough to take the risk.

  Every day now, Katniss sneaks into forbidden territory beyond the fence. She hunts for game; she nets fish; she slips eggs out of nests; she gathers edible plants that are growing wild.

  She keeps what she needs, then sells the rest at the Hob. Whatever it takes to keep her family going.

  Katniss is an expert with a bow and arrows, such a neat shot that she never damages an animal’s skin. Instead, she shoots it straight through the eye.

  Things are better at home now. Katniss’s mother is a healer, helping the sick and wounded. But Katniss can never forget the way things were. With her mother, she’s always on edge.

  It’s not that way with Prim. Her little sister is the only person Katniss is sure — absolutely sure — that she loves.

  She loves her friend Gale, too, but in a different way. Not a romantic way, like you might expect. Gale is Katniss’s hunting partner and best friend — with him, she can be herself. When they’re together in the woods, they’re almost free.

  Gale dares to say what nobody else says about the cruelty and injustice of the Capitol. Sometimes he thinks that he and Katniss could survive if they ran away. Together.

  Katniss listens, but she’s not running anywhere. She’s too practical for that. She doesn’t think it would work, anyway. The Capitol’s too strong.

  But Katniss is also strong — stronger than she knows. And as she will discover, she’s the ultimate survivor.

  On the day of the reaping, the people of each district gather in their town square. In District 12, the square is really just an old rail yard, with a warehouse attached, but once a year it’s transformed by TV lights, video screens, and an anxious crowd. The miners emerge, blinking, into the open space.

  It’s a day that everybody dreads, and the reality is even worse than the anticipation.

  The decorations are festive, but the looks on people’s faces give the truth away: Two children are about to be sent away to die. Is it worse to be the person sent or the family left behind?

  Silently, the gathered people watch a movie on the video screens. It’s about the failed rebellion and the rise of Panem. The same movie every year. Deadly dull and endless propaganda.

  Then a representative from the Capitol draws names from two glass balls. In District 12, this person is Effie Trinket. In the drab world of this district, her bright hair, her outrageous clothes, and her Capitol accent really stand out. She chooses one boy and one girl, both between the ages of twelve and eighteen, to be the district’s tributes in the Games.

  Not every child has the same chance of being chosen in the drawing. Poorer children purchase tesserae, meaning that their names are entered an extra time in exchange for a supply of food. Some, like Katniss and Gale, have multiple tesserae. Many of the paper slips in the ball have their names on them.

  In the Capitol, the reaping kicks off weeks of good times. Each district’s reaping is broadcast live, and eager viewers get their first look at the Games’ contestants.

  In the richer districts, it’s an honor to compete in the Hunger Games. Some boys and girls have been training their whole lives to go into the arena, and if they are not chosen in the reaping, they volunteer to replace whoever was. These kids — from Districts 1 and 2 — are known in the poorer districts as the Career Tributes.

  In most districts, though — and certainly in District 12 — the reaping is a somber occasion. A final good-bye.

  In the Capitol, appearances are everything. You can see it in the powerful architecture of the buildings and in the design of the city, which showcases the Capitol’s might. You can see it in the local fashion, too.

  To an outsider, the people of the Capitol look outlandish. Bizarre. Here, color is the name of the game. It works for hair, of course, but also for lips — for skin — for pets. Here, people know there’s nothing in nature that can’t be improved by plastic surgery or a decorative tattoo.

  People move slowly through the streets of the Capitol — they have no jobs, no place important to go. But when the Hunger Games are on, it’s a different story.

  Then there’s a whirl of parties, a sense of drama. Everyone has a favorite tribute and money riding on the outcome. Who will live and who will die? How will they kill their opponents? People can even participate in the Games directly by becoming sponsors and sending lifesaving supplies into the arena.

  Viewers are caught up in the story and the contest, ignoring the young lives tragically lost. For most people in the Capitol, the Games are just . . . games.

  The people of the Capitol are not all cruel. They are ignorant and shallow, and most know little of what life is like in the districts. They don’t even think to ask.

  When Katniss arrives in the Capitol, she is blinded by the colors and the luxury, overwhelmed by the buffets at every meal. Just as bewildering as what she sees, though, is what she feels. Suddenly, she’s thrust into a world where there’s nobody she can trust.

  Venia and Flavius hose her down and begin to transform her into a person that Capitol viewers will want to watch. Katniss isn’t sure what’s more scary: the way they look or the way they want her to look. Cutting, scrubbing, tweezing, polishing, and painting are all part of the process.

  Cinna, her stylist, treats her kindly. He apologizes for what he has to do. He creates a look that makes Katniss famous across Panem. Thanks to him, she will always be the Girl on Fire. But can an image maker be an ally? Or a friend?

  President Coriolanus Snow welcomes the tributes to the Capitol from the balcony of his mansion. Katniss doesn’t meet him right away, but she knows what he looks like. His kindly appearance masks a brutal strength that’s allowed him to hold on to power for more than a quarter of a century. Anyone would notice the hard glint in his eye.

  Every year, the Gamemakers design and manipulate a new arena
and everything in it: the climate, the terrain, the traps. Whatever it takes to keep the audience on the edge of its seat. Seneca Crane is this year’s Head Gamemaker, and in many ways Katniss is the tribute of his dreams. An underdog, he realizes, is good for ratings.

  Near the end of training, the Gamemakers observe the tributes individually, and score them according to their skills. Tributes with high scores will attract more sponsors.

  Katniss knows that she has skills that could impress the Gamemakers. Yet they don’t even have the decency to give her their attention. They hardly acknowledge her at all — until she takes matters into her own hands.

  Each tribute is also interviewed by legendary Capitol personality Caesar Flickerman. He has been interviewing tributes for forty years! He’s known for getting kids to open up to the audience. Charming tributes, again, will get more sponsors.

  Caesar Flickerman and Claudius Templesmith are the announcers of the Games, the voices that the tributes and the audience will hear once the action begins.

  Caesar fawns over Katniss during her interview. But his attention, like all the attention she’s received in the Capitol, is loaded with ulterior motives. Like everything here, he’s all about the show.

  The tributes are given several days of training, right in the center in the Capitol, before the Hunger Games begin. They live in plush apartments decorated as if for royalty, with high ceilings and shining furniture. Using a remote control, Katniss can change the view she sees out the window.

  Every meal is an over-the-top, all-you-can-eat buffet. Katniss has never seen so much food in her life. It would be even more enjoyable if she didn’t know she was being fattened up for the slaughter.

  The Training Center is a vast gym, with stations set up for learning different skills that the tributes might find useful in the arena. Building fires, finding shelter. Throwing knives and swinging swords. Camouflage and combat. Some are required, while others are optional — tributes can chose according to their interests and abilities.