I walked into Barnes and Noble this afternoon, and went right up to the counter. ”I need to return these,” I said, putting the second and third books in the Hunger Games series on the counter.
“Let me guess, you already have them?” The lady behind the counter asked, laughing to herself as she scanned the receipt.
“No. I just finished the first one and I didn’t like it.”
The look that followed was a mix of shock and horror, as if i was part alien, part evil villain. ”I’m sorry you… didn’t like it…” she said in this odd voice. She refused to make eye contact with me. The other person behind the count actually gawked, open mouthed and everything.
I understand that this may be an unpopular view, but I cannot possibly be the first person to finish that book and think “Really? This is what everyone’s so crazed about?”
It wasn’t horrible. But I was disappointed.
I like a heroin I can get behind. Someone I can feel for, if not relate to, and who I’m sad to see go when I get to the last page. Katniss totally missed the mark for me. I was incredibly ready to be done with her. I liked her for a little in the very beginning… I have a little sister, and I appreciated what she was willing to sacrifice for hers. But that was about it for us. I was waiting for her redeeming moment. I felt like I never got it.
And there were places in this book where I knew I should feel something more. One in particular (though I won’t ruin it for any hold outs who might still give in) left me feeling like I should have cried, but the writing never pulled me in enough to get me there. And I cry at sappy commercials. I’m really not a hard one to crack.
Apparently, this was one of those times when I should have followed my instincts. I was hoping I’d be pleasantly surprised… But sometimes my inclinations are right. This one just wasn’t for me.
