qwertybard:

roach-works:

weaver-z:

thatbassistbitch:

weaver-z:

Divergent is a bad book, but its accidental brilliance is that it completely mauled the YA dystopian genre by stripping it down to its barest bones for maximum marketability, utterly destroying the chances of YA dystopian literature’s long-term survival 

please elaborate

Sure. Imagine that you need to make a book, and this book needs to be successful. This book needs to be the perfect Marketable YA Dystopian.

So you build your protagonist. She has no personality traits beyond being decently strong-willed, so that her quirks and interesting traits absolutely can’t get in the way of the audience’s projection onto her. She is dainty, birdlike, beautiful despite her protestations that she is ugly–yet she can still hold her own against significantly taller and stronger combatants. She is the perfect mask for the bashful, insecure tweens you are marketing to to wear while they read.

You think, as you draft your novel, that you need to add something that appeals to the basest nature of teenagers, something this government does that will be perversely appealing to them. The Hunger Games’ titular games were the main draw of the books, despite the hatred its characters hold for the event. So the government forces everyone into Harry Potter houses. 

So the government makes everyone choose their faction, their single personality trait. Teenagers and tweens are basic–they likely identify by one distinct personality trait or career aspiration, and they’ll thus be enchanted by this system. For years, Tumblr and Twitter bios will include Erudite or Dauntless alongside Aquarius and Ravenclaw and INTJ. Congratulations, you just made having more than one personality trait anathema to your worldbuilding. 

Your readers and thus your protagonist are naturally drawn to the faction that you have made RIDICULOUSLY cooler and better than the others: Dauntless. The faction where they play dangerous games of Capture the Flag and don’t work and act remarkably like teenagers with a budget. You add an attractive, tall man to help and hinder the protagonist. He is brooding and handsome; he doesn’t need to be anything else. 

The villains appear soon afterward. They are your tried and true dystopian government: polished, sleek, intelligent, headed by a woman for some reason. They fight the protagonists, they carry out their evil, Machiavellian, stupid plan. You finish the novel with duct tape and fanservice, action sequences and skin and just enough glue and spit to seal the terrible, hollow world you have made shut just long enough to put it on the shelf. 

And you have just destroyed YA dystopian literature. Because you have boiled it down to its bare essentials. A sleek, futuristic government borrowing its aesthetic from modern minimalism and wealth forces the population to participate in a perversely cool-to-read-about system like the Hunger Games or the factions, and one brave, slender, pretty, hollow main character is the only one brave–no, special enough to stand against it. 

And by making this bare-bones world, crafted for maximum marketability, you expose yourself and every other YA dystopian writer as a lazy worldbuilder driven too far by the “rule of cool” and the formulas of other, better dystopian books before yours. In the following five years, you watch in real time as the dystopian genre crumbles under your feet, as the movies made based on your successful (but later widely-panned and mocked) books slowly regress to video-only releases, as fewer and fewer releases try to do what you did. And maybe you realize what you’ve done.

one quibble: hunger games was intense and sincere and the writer had worked for tv and knew exactly what she was talking about when she wrote how media machines create golden idols out of abused kids and then leave the actual people inside their glamorous shells to rot. hunger games had a genuine core of righteous anger that resonated with a lot of people. the hunger games was genuinely angry about shit that is genuinely wrong. 

but divergent was clumsy make-believe the whole way through. it aped the forms and functions of dystopian lit but the writer didn’t actually have any real, passionate, sincere anger to put on the page. she didn’t know what it was talking about, so she didn’t have anything worth listening to.

there’s a difference between anti-authoritarianism as a disaffected, cynical pose and anti-authoritarianism as a rallying cry by people who believe in a bitter world. and the former is something corporations and industries and publishing houses are so much more comfortable with. so divergent and the flood of books published and marketed alongide and after it showed how the dystopian genre was no longer truly revolutionary, no longer a sincere condemnation of corporate oligarchies. the mass-market dystopian genre was now nothing more than an insincere playspace for people who were writing dystopia as a safely distant, abstract make-believe stage for their pretty girl heroes, rather than a direct allegory for everything that needs to be torn down in this world today. 

This is the second branch of this post I’ve reblogged and like the fourth I’ve seen and I’m just thinking about how the Uglies series, a pre-Hunger Games forerunner of the YA Dystopia boom, had significantly less staying power than it could have specifically because…with the toxic beauty standards forced on teenagers being a Big Theme, studios couldn’t figure out how to make a profitable movie out of it. The book got optioned multiple times, but a film version made in Hollywood was destined to fall apart at casting & makeup - their marketing methods relied on exactly what the series was criticizing, which is…part of what made it so popular with teenage girls to begin with.

You contrast that with how the marketing for the Hunger Games films directly contradicts the messaging of the text, and how Divergent seems ready-made for the big screen, and it becomes really apparent why the genre folded in on itself. Capitalism tried to recuperate dystopian fiction criticizing capitalism, and in doing so, butchered the genre.

There’s also something rattling around my brain about a correlation between how made-for-screen a dystopian book is and how much it Doesn’t Understand Dystopia, with the culmination being Ready Player One, a piece set in a dystopia that somehow still actively glorifies capitalism & that was literally optioned for film before the book was published, but I don’t…know how to expand on that point.

roxilalonde:

ok now things that were excellent about the hunger games:

-katniss’ character arc

-i mean it like katniss is a) a traumatized woman whose b) pain is never glossed over or overlooked, whose grief and coping mechanisms are put at the front and center of the narrative, and whose trauma is absolutely critical part of any coherent reading of the story

-her emotions are treated as legitimate and valid regardless of what causes them. she is allowed to be irrational; she is allowed to be furious. she is allowed to be complicated and illogical and angry at her circumstances in a way that was (and continues to be) revolutionary for a female character in YA fiction

-her only parent is a single mother whose mental illness and grief in the aftermath of her husband’s death has prevented her from taking care of her children, and the consequences of this in terms of how it affects her relationships with her children play out in a realistic and nuanced way

-katniss’ friendship with gale is just that. a friendship. no matter what happens in the later books in the hunger games she and gale are just best buds who shoot stuff in the woods and forage together. their friendship has no strings attached and it was a breath of fresh air while it lasted

-her relationship with peeta is grounded in an interesting conversation about what it means for people in poverty to show solidarity with each other, and what that solidarity can look like, and how even minute acts of kindness can have incredible impacts to those on the receiving end of them. this isn’t even a huge part of the books it’s just nice to see

-peeta never does creepy shit or tries to coerce her or acts entitled to katniss’ love. he’s nice to her. he like, idk, genuinely acts like he likes her? which is wildly rare for a lot of Y/A love interests?? and he’s in love with her but that’s all, he only uses it as a Games strategy on his end, he doesn’t act like a complete ass about it and the fact that i’m as grateful for this narrative decision as i am is pretty depressing but i am nevertheless

-collins pulls zero punches in depicting the horrors and aftermath of the games themselves. she does not fuck about glorifying or romanticizing the ordeal. she makes all but explicit that the hunger games is a scathing critique of television/reality shows/movies and how they’re tied into capitalist structures, to the point where she all but spells out on the page “THE ENTERTAINMENT INDUSTRY’S MANIPULATION AND ABUSE OF CHILDREN IS IMMORAL AND THE FACT THAT WE HAVE ALL BECOME SO NUMB TO IT IS A VERY VERY BAD THING” 

-katniss’ hyper-awareness of the cameras and where they are at any given point and in any given scene is a very nice use of detail. like she’s constantly noticing lenses, screens, mirrors, basically anything that could be used as a surveillance device, and it really sets a nice atmosphere of paranoia and supervision that both lets us into her headspace and paints a broader picture of the capitol in general

-the capitol in general is also really well done; the sheer lavishness and luxury is depicted in gorgeous detail, and you can almost feel yourself being pulled into the scene – except collins always holds you back from getting totally absorbed in the facade of the Games, keeping you skillfully positioned at a far enough distance that you can see the horror underneath

-just all the little details about the Games that she included. tesserae. volunteering. the “career tributes.” the mentor system. the stylists. the initial chariot ride. the interviews. the balls. the training. the evaluations. the sponsors. it really does make the Games feel like a real event that a lot of people put a lot of thought into the ritual and ceremony of, horrific content aside.

-and that’s also the point! that you can get so wrapped up in the politicking and emotional dramas surrounding the Games that you forget what they are: an indefinite round of blood sport played out to the death with twenty-four unwilling child participants

-how expertly the gamemakers turn the kids against each other, playing on their fears and insecurities to produce more convincing conflict and rivalries

-how you almost forget that they’re children, except collins won’t let you forget. she keeps reminding you. in death scenes especially there is unique attention paid to noticing how small tributes are, how they look immature, how they’re inexperienced or dumb or make bad decisions, and it all points you again and again to the recurring realization that they’re children. this. is happening. to children.

-the way that the capitol distances itself from the Games by refusing to really confront the reality of death, which read a certain way is a very cutting critique of how western media uses the framing of images and metaphor to distance itself from the tragedies it often uses for content

-basically the hunger games is a nuanced and magnificent text

-literally these books were so fucking good