Sunrise on the Reaping Analysis: Politics, Power, and the Fight to Share the Truth [Spoilers]
This article contains MAJOR SPOILERS for Suzanne Collins’s new book, Sunrise on the Reaping.
Sunrise on the Reaping takes us back 24 years before the events of the first Hunger Games book, to Haymitch Abernathy’s games.
I ripped through it in 48 hours. I started it on Friday morning, July 4th, and finished it on July 5th. I call out this date for several reasons.
- In the book, July 4th is both Haymitch’s birthday and the day of the “reaping,” when the Capitol selects who will participate in the Hunger Games.
- On July 4th this year, the current U.S. regime passed a disgusting bill, “The BBB,” that will shape the nation for at least a decade. National politics was on my mind. I think politics should be on one’s mind while reading a Hunger Games novel.
- Because of this bill, I was in no mood to celebrate our national independence from the British, so I plopped myself on my couch and read.
Suzanne Collins wrote this in 2024, before the U.S. presidential election. While we could interpret her selecting July 4th for the day of the reaping as a critique of the U.S., the Hunger Games is not about Trumpism. (Remember, the first book came out in 2010.)
I’m hesitant to say that the Hunger Games series is about any “isms” at all, given how loaded those have become in American society.
But, as I read, I thought about the dangers of when a tiny number of people have the power and resources to control everybody else, and wield it to do just that.
Given this, I think saying that “authoritarianism” is an appropriate word to describe what Collins is writing about in Sunrise On The Reaping. President Snow murders whom he wants, when he wants, deciding the rules of all the “games,” both in and out of the arena.
That theme applies to what’s going on in the United States. Here are the thoughts that have been stuck on my mind since I finished reading.
1) Then Vs Now: 2010 vs 2025
When I started reading the first Hunger Games book, I sat in my middle school classroom in Vermont.
I remember feeling repulsed by the very idea of the Hunger Games, drawn into the story by how far it seemed from my reality.
I told myself it was an exaggerated metaphor for human suffering. I told myself it was a warning about what could happen to us, not what was happening.
As I read Sunrise, I did not think about what could happen. I thought about what has happened, what is happening, and what could continue to happen. I thought of Gaza, I thought of Iraq (and how I didn’t think about Iraq enough in 2010.) I thought of immigrants in the U.S., convicted of no violent crimes, who’ve been sent to prison.
Suzanne Collins writes that throughout the districts, the Capitol displayed the message, “No Peacekeepers, No Peace.” The Peacekeepers meet unrest with violence and control.
In the past few months, President Trump has deployed federal troops to “de-escalate” protests, to “maintain law and order.”
In the past week, the regime has bragged about constructing a 3,000-person prison, built specifically for migrants.
The bill passed last weekend provides ICE, which I think of as a metaphor for “Peacekeepers,” with a blank check to raid homes and abduct people. Like the Peacekeepers, ICE’s workers are anonymous, outfitted with military weapons and unafraid to use them to wield terror.
The world of the Hunger Games is a world where the power of the police, “The Peacekeepers,” upholds the existing structures. They keep Snow in Power. They keep the district residents as good little workers to provide for the Capitol.
2) Whoever Controls The Narrative, Controls The Power
In President Snow’s world of propaganda, “No Peacekeepers, No Peace” is just the beginning.
Haymitch battles President Snow, but not in the arena. It’s a battle for public opinion.
Collins sets the tone that President Snow is the one who controls what the residents of Panem see early on.
When Chance Woodbine’s name is called at the District 12 reaping, he makes a run for it. A peacekeeper shoots him dead, and Haymitch takes his place.
Although the reaping is televised live, there is a lag to allow the Capitol to edit out what they don’t want the rest of Panem to see.
During one of the pre-game ceremonies, Haymitch’s horse-drawn chariot goes crazy, dumping him and Louella, one of the girls from his District. She hits her head and dies.
Haymitch, in a move that sets the tone for how he will compete in the games, sprints while he carries Louella’s body to the President’s mansion. He attempts to show Panem the cruelty and incompetence of the Capitol.
The Capitol cuts this out of what gets shown on TV.
Later, Snow tells Haymitch, “No one outside of the drunken audience at the parade even witnessed the accident.”
I could go through example after example of Haymitch or Maysilee attempting to undermine the Capitol. They call these acts of rebellion their “posters.” But the Capitol covers up the posters. They edit the scenes to patchwork together a different story.
While watching back the highlights of the games, Haymitch says, “Timelines are twisted. Connections misleading. It’s less flat-out lying than lying by omission… The Gamemakers must have been scrambling like crazy to control the narrative at this point.” (354)
I thought of the Los Angeles protests. ICE swept into a community, and like Haymitch when the Peacekeepers grabbed Lenore, he went to defend her.
The president of the U.S. has called these people, defending their loved ones, their community, and their neighbors, “terrorists.” He has called them “very bad people, evil people.”
The regime, like Snow, tries to control the narrative.
Like the Hunger Games itself, we may call Snow’s direct editing of events an exaggeration. After all, here I am, sharing a different narrative of what could’ve happened in Los Angeles, despite not being there. We are not at the level of censorship of Snow’s Capitol.
But the regime attempts to do what Snow does: attacking news sites, arresting university students for writing op-eds or leading protests, increasing funding for ICE and the military to control the populace.
Whether Snow or Trump, those in power always give a justification for it. They give a reason to control how people speak and act: For the good of Panem, for peace, to protect the country from wrongdoers.
We are always fighting to distribute our posters.
3) Centralized Technology Will Not Free Us
I noticed that Suzanne Collins took a moment to talk about artificial intelligence. Part of this is out of necessity for her plot lines. When the first book came out, LLMs like ChatGPT were far away. Now, they’re part of our lives, with AI video and image generation quickly improving.
Plutarch Heavensbee explains why they’re not in the world of Panem:
“He signs when he mentions the tools that were abolished and incapacitated in the past, ones deemed fated to destroy humanity because of their ability to replicate any scenario using any person. ‘And in mere seconds!’ He snaps his fingers to emphasize their speed. ‘I guess it was the right thing to do, given our natures. We almost wiped ourselves out even without them, so you can imagine. But oh, the possibilities.'”
Heavensbee’s remarks suggest that even the Capitol felt the world was better off without more advanced versions of the AI tools we use today.
Yet, the Capitol doesn’t shy away from using technology to advance its means. From the “mutts” in the games to the Jabberjays that surveil the districts, the Hunger Games shows a world where who controls the technology matters.
The Capitol has mutts. The districts don’t. The Capitol has advanced weapons. The districts don’t. The Capitol has cameras and surveillance wherever they want it.
This is something to keep in mind as artificial intelligence continues to accelerate. Who controls it? What is their agenda? What and who are they surveilling, and what do they do with that data?
4) Why Do We Submit?
I would love Collins to write a book with Plutarch Heavensbee as one of the main characters. He is the double agent of the series, and we see that in Sunrise.
In one scene, Haymitch and the other tributes are in the training gym before the games start. Haymitch thinks, “There’s this moment where I look around… a half dozen of us hold sleek, deadly knives. And I see that there aren’t many Peacekeepers here today. Not really. We outnumber them four to one.”
The tributes don’t attack. Plutarch asks, “The question is, why didn’t you?”
Haymitch reflects on this. “He isn’t just asking why we didn’t start a mini rebellion in the gym. He means back in District 12 as well. Why do we let the Capitol brutes rule us?”
Plutarch presses, “Why do you submit to it at all?”
Haymitch replies, “Because we don’t want to end up dead!”
“And yet, I still don’t think the fear they inspire justifies this arrangement we’ve all entered into… Why do you agree to it? Why do I? For that matter, why have people always agreed to it… Well, it’s something to think about.”
Why do I agree to the current arrangement of things?
Is it because I feel too powerless to create change on my own? Because I tell myself that I’m doing “my part?” Because I’m scared of the consequences of acting otherwise? Is it because, well, I’m a winner of the current arrangement of things, born to relative wealth, free to still speak my mind, a U.S. citizen, blessed with enough time to write articles like this about a fictional world?
Okay Plutarch, you’ve given me something to think about.
5) You Will Not Succeed, But We Will Succeed
THE BIGGEST SPOILER YET, PLEASE DON’T READ IF YOU HAVEN’T READ THE BOOK.
At the end of the book, Snow plants poisoned gumdrops in District 12, which Lenore Dove consumes.
As she dies in Haymitch’s arms, she tells him, “Don’t you… let it… rise.”
“I can’t stop it. You know I can’t stop it,” Haymitch replies.
“… on the reaping,” she whispers.
Lenore’s final words are a reference to the beginning of the book, when Haymitch and Lenore meet as the sun rises on the day of the reaping.
Haymitch says, “The reaping’s going to happen no matter what I believe. Sure as the sun will rise tomorrow.”
Lenore responds, “Well, there’s no proof that will happen. You can’t count on things happening tomorrow just because they happened in the past. It’s faulty logic… And that’s part of our trouble. Thinking things are inevitable. Not believing change is possible.”
They both turned out to be right.
Haymitch is correct: the reaping will happen and there’s nothing they can do.
Lenore is correct: the reaping is not inevitable and change is possible.
Feeling Helpless And Acting Anyway
As Haymitch and Beetee plot to blow up the arena, I suspect early on that it’s doomed to fail.
Haymitch manages to light the fuse. The explosion goes off. And yet, it fails to bring down the arena, let alone the Capitol.
A plan can be doomed to fail, and still the best plan available, and still the most courageous thing to do.
Collins also shows us the consequences of pushing forward a doomed plan.
Haymitch is punished for his rebellion. Snow murders everyone he loves. For the next 24 years, the sun will continue to rise on the reaping.
Finding Hope In Hopelessness
At the end of the book, we understand why Haymitch descends into the alcoholism we see in the original trilogy.
“I am so desperate to forget. To escape the grief… I make no plans, have no hopes, keep no company.”
Under authoritarianism, everything will not be okay. And yet, there is some hope. Always some hope.
In Emergent Strategy, adrienne maree brown writes, “Movements are most powerful when they are made up of people who step up in different ways at different times, like waves—some lead, some support, some teach, some learn.”
Haymitch is only one wave of the rebellion. 24 years later, Katniss and Peeta come along. And we know how that story goes.
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