The Separation that Ignited a Phenomena
Photo, Twenty20.
As a little girl, her first memories were clouded by confusion. It was the 1960’s, and she was six years old when her father’s Air Force unit got deployed to Vietnam. Her dad was heading to a jungle, and her mother was no longer excited about life.
She was the youngest of four, and her home was chaotic. She laid in bed at night and wondered if anything would ever be the same.
Soon, the Vietnam War permeated all aspects of the culture. Her mother tried to shield her, but the media was relentless. She would watch cartoons, and immediately after they ended, footage of jungles and dead American soldiers filled the screen. Every image filled her mind with terror and added to the uncertainty. Years passed, and her father eventually returned, but things would never be the same. The time apart, the fear she felt worrying about him, and the images on TV would never leave her mind.
Source: National Archives
The little girl grew up, and like everyone else affected by Vietnam, she did her best to put it behind her. She turned her focus towards college, and completed a bachelor’s degree in theatre arts and a master’s degree in writing. She worked odd jobs before catching a break at 29, when she landed a gig writing for TV. With a wealth of life experiences under her belt, she churned out scripts for Nickelodeon, working on shows like Clarissa Explains it All, The Mystery Files of Shelby Woo, and Clifford.
She had turned her passion for writing into a job. At this point, it would be easy for anyone to get comfortable, and she did. A decade passed, and without knowing it, each stroke of her pen was bringing her closer to facing her own demons and creating a story that would resonate around the world.
At 40, she took the leap and wrote her own book. It was released the next year, and sold enough copies for her publisher to order the next book in the series. For the next five years she wrote sequels in that same series of books, and in 2007, at 45 years old, she called it quits. It hadn’t broken out in a big way, and she was exhausted. She was married with two children, and knew she needed to find a new story to write, but it was hard to find time. There wasn’t that one BIG idea that was pulling her forward.
One late night, in a daze, she was flipping through the channels on TV. Reality television was on one channel and footage of the Iraq War on the next. In this light, she caught a glimpse of what the media had become: one big reality show. The media had turned war into a horrible reality show… In that moment, the feeling of separation from her father reemerged. She was no longer watching a reality show, but instead watching a story where she had an emotional connection. She knew what it felt like to be a girl and have her father’s number called. The powerlessness she felt as a child crept back over her as she watched what was, for most people, a reality show. It was real to her, and she knew it was even more real for the men and women over there.
But now she was no longer powerless. She had her pen, and immense skills that had developed over decades of honing her craft and putting in the work. She didn’t have this new idea, it had her. And in a reality TV obsessed culture, the time was right to tell it.
At 46 years old, she put pen to paper and wrote her story. A sequel followed, and then it became a trilogy. Within 14 months, 1.5 million copies were in circulation and the book was taking off. A film adaptation followed.
Photo, Twenty20.
Today, Suzanne Collins has sold over 87 million books.
Her trilogy, The Hunger Games, its message, and its impact on culture are hardly ever discussed openly. Collins’ message isn’t just brave… it’s a radical deviation from stereotypical norms in entertainment. Collins’ story is a stark contrast to others in modern day pop culture. Most modern “artists” chose to glorify war without presenting the whole truth — it doesn’t end well.
So what type of debate did she want to spark? Collins’ answers are illuminating:
“We have so much programming coming at us all the time,” she says. “Is it too much? Are we becoming desensitized to the entire experience?… I can’t believe a certain amount of that isn’t happening.”
“But if there’s a real-life tragedy unfolding, you should not be thinking of yourself as an audience member. Because those are real people on the screen, and they’re not going away when the commercials start to roll.”
At least in reality shows, empathy is created with characters. Collins points out that the media treats war as a type of reality show, but doesn’t even cover the basics of creating empathetic connections with the cast. She makes the point that most of the audience is prevented from making connections with those who risk their lives. It’s not like Survivor where you follow each cast member religiously for weeks and weeks.
Massive Spoiler Alert ahead!
Suzanne Collins is one of the first authors to create a story with widespread pop culture appeal that doesn’t have a happy ending or a glorified message about war. For good reason. There is rarely a good reason that justifies war.
So will we continue to accept the same, boring, sacrificial altar because politicians can’t learn to negotiate? Now that Collins’ message is deep within the culture, we may be able to escape it.
The beauty of the story vehicle that Collins created was that it was disguised as a “Young Adult” story. As she says:
“I don’t write about adolescents. I write about war for adolescents.”
She wants people to identify their relationship with reality TV and the news, to realize what they take for granted, and to act against questionable government decisions. Ultimately, she wants individuals to be aware of the news and to act or make changes where they think necessary.
There was a good chance that her story wouldn’t work out. With her touchy subject, she could have offended someone at the publisher, or gotten blacklisted by the entertainment industry. Hollywood pays lip service to promoting a meritocracy of ideas, but they usually won’t promote anything that prompts serious thought or debate. The ideas that threaten their egos are the first to be killed… and they aren’t usually tolerant of any messages about virtue. In a day and age when people are terrified of speaking up for what they believe for fear of losing a “job,” Suzanne Collins decided to tell a story that would put her entire career at risk.
Her risk paid off… Source, Zimbio
The Hunger Games is an example of a creative genius hiding philosophy inside a story. Collins used just the right amount of war glorification to introduce the series, then took a radical deviation once the reader was inside.
Source, Lionsgate.
She articulates an unapologetic analysis of the United States. In The Hunger Games trilogy, Suzanne Collins carefully renames the U.S. to ‘Panem,’ after the Latin saying, ‘panem et circenses’ (bread and circuses) — two things Roman rulers used to keep the public distracted.
Without the horrible separation from her father, and not knowing if he would live or die, she wouldn’t have been able to ensoul her books with such emotional authenticity. Herein lies the magic of The Hunger Games, and what the love (and separation) between a father and daughter can create. Collins chose a peaceful presentation of ideas and debate, and reframed how young people view war.
As children, we might be powerless to free those we care about from society’s sacrificial altars, but as adults, we don’t have to spend our lives on the sidelines. We can build up our own expertise, become powerful, and prove that the pen can be mightier than the sword.
If you enjoyed this story, please recommend and share it to help others find it :)
Nema komentara:
Objavi komentar