49 pages • 1 hour read
Suzanne CollinsA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
The book opens with 18-year-old Coriolanus making cabbage stew, an unwelcome reminder of his once wealthy family’s fall from grace. It is the day of reaping, a process in which the 12 districts’ tributes are chosen for the Hunger Games—and Coriolanus worries about his shirt of all things, intent on keeping up appearances. Tigris, his cousin, repurposes one of his father’s shirts into something respectable to wear.
Coriolanus struggles to keep the family financially afloat, hoping to shine in his upcoming role as mentor to one of the 24 tributes. The use of mentors is a new addition to the Hunger Games, implemented to revive interest in a tradition that, ten years after the 12 districts’ failed rebellion, still evokes antipathy in the Capitol and revulsion among the victims.
Those in the Capitol wish to bolster interest in the Games as a means of power and to discourage future attempts at rebellion; there are still signs of war, from the pockmarked façade of Coriolanus’s building, scarred by bullets, to rubble left in the streets. Coriolanus himself wishes to capitalize on the role so as to attend University, which he cannot afford otherwise. He is assigned to the female tribute from coal-mining District 12.
Despite his initial disappointment, Coriolanus, the Capitol, and the crowd soon find themselves captivated by 16-year-old Lucy Gray Baird. She slips a snake into the mayor’s daughter’s dress, then responds to the man’s retaliatory blows with a song. The refrain from the song, “Nothing you can take from me was ever worth keeping!” (29), demonstrates both her bravado and her defiance. Coriolanus takes in the rainbow-ruffled dress-wearing “tattered butterfly in a field of moths” (24) and wonders how to best use her to elevate himself.
Coriolanus’s classmate Sejanus Plinth, whose family originally hailed from District 2, suspects that Lucy Gray’s entry was rigged. Yet, Coriolanus remains excited as the young woman is likely to improve his prospects—which cannot come soon enough for young Snow as the Academy’s Dean Highbottom cruelly notes.
Coriolanus decides to meet Lucy Gray at the train station, bringing her one of his grandmother’s—Grandma’am’s—roses at the behest of Tigris. He plans to use Lucy Gray’s unique appeal to curry favor with their audience; however, he also treats her with caution as anyone “who could pull off such a brazen performance” was inherently “intimidating,” even “terrifying” (39). When Coriolanus presents Lucy Gray with the rose, she proceeds to eat one of the petals.
The Peacekeepers who guard the tributes notice Coriolanus, who asks to accompany Lucy Gray to her quarters until the Games commence. He tries to project authority and confidence to impress her and the other tributes. His gambit, however, does not go as planned: He finds himself caged with the unwashed tributes and transported by truck. To make matters worse, Lucy Gray protects him from the others’ murderous intent; Coriolanus is now in her debt.
The caged Coriolanus and tributes catch the eye of spectators. Mortified, he again attempts to make the most of his situation by introducing Lucy Gray to the crowd. Lucy Gray informs them that she is not originally from District 12—but rather, she is of the “Covey,” a group of traveling musicians.
Coriolanus reflects on his and Lucy Gray’s shared ability to “perform.” It is this quality that attracts the attention of Dr. Volumnia Gaul, the “Head Gamemaker and mastermind behind the Capitol’s experimental weapons division” (58). She unnerves Coriolanus with her erratic, sinister behavior—though he manages to hide his discomfort. When Dr. Gaul asks him of the Hunger Games’ purpose, he hesitates; he thinks the Games’ horror lies in sacrificing children, but reflects on the numerous children sacrificed during the war. Dr. Gaul is patient, sensing his future understanding.
Coriolanus visits Lucy Gray at the tributes’ quarters, the zoo—only to find Sejanus trying to feed them. They refuse as they distrust Capitol residents. However, Lucy Gray accepts the food out of her and Coriolanus’s newfound “bond,” encouraging the others to eat as well. All the tributes but the male tribute from District 2—who happens to be Sejanus’s former classmate and mentee—do so.
Afterwards, Coriolanus urges Lucy Gray to sing another song, something to keep the audience interested. She sings of lost love, which evokes memories of his late mother and stillborn sister; he remembers her powder compact, smelling of roses, that he keeps beside his bed. Sejanus interrupts Coriolanus’s reverie to thank him for convincing the tributes to eat. Coriolanus questions why he wished to do so in the first place: “Ever since the reaping,” Sejanus replies, “I keep imagining I’m one of them” (72). Coriolanus fails to empathize, instead admiring the other’s built mentee Marcus: “The idea of [Lucy Gray] defeating Marcus was laughable. Like pitting a songbird against a grizzly bear” (74). But when Sejanus offers to trade tributes, Coriolanus refuses. He wants recognition for his talents, not an easy win. More importantly, he does not wish to give his wealthier rival the one thing he has “over him.”
Like Coriolanus’s pre-reaping attire, the Hunger Games, too, must be refashioned for wider appeal: As Dr. Gaul puts it, “[There’s] no Hunger Games without the audience. […] [Coriolanus] understands the importance of keeping the games alive” (59). The Tenth Annual Hunger Games’ mentorship program is a means of engaging said audience—which Coriolanus excels at due in no small part to Lucy Gray. The Games are crucial to the Capitol’s continued existence, “to remind the citizens of what they had endured. They needed to navigate the rubble, peel off the grubby ration coupons, and witness the Hunger Games to keep the war fresh in their minds” (13). Cruelty is the point. Without a constant reminder, the people might become emboldened to rebel, to disrupt.
Lucy Gray Baird not only disrupts the “defeated and deprived” look associated with her district, but the very foundation of the Games. She is full of life, if not endowed with good fortune, an outsider who introduces a literal snake into the dystopian paradise of the Capitol’s creation. The young woman’s dual nature as “songbird” and “snake” evokes the Madonna-whore complex; in Coriolanus’s eyes, Lucy Gray embodies both girlish innocence and a visceral “wildness.”
Sejanus Plinth is a product of the Capitol despite implications of his family “buying their way” to the top with their weapons business. Coriolanus, on the other hand, is left wanting due to his family’s lack of wealth: Sejanus represents the nouveau riche intruding on the Capitol’s traditional hierarchy. Coriolanus’s mantra—“Snow lands on top” (9, 29)—illustrates his belief in the superiority of his birthright and cultural inheritance as well as his uncertainty regarding said place at the top.
The characters of Lucy Gray and Sejanus provide Coriolanus—and the reader—an opportunity to reflect upon human decency. Those who hail from the districts are often disregarded as “animals” by Capitol residents. Coriolanus “humanizes” Lucy Gray for an audience intent on dehumanizing her and the other tributes: They are transported via a cattle car and held in a monkey cage at the zoo while awaiting cruel and unusual execution in the arena. Coriolanus himself frequently engages in this dehumanization: Lucy Gray is a “songbird,” “a trapped animal,” “another drabbed, bruised creature” (74). He considers her “his girl” (49), and even more pointedly, “[h]is filly in a race, his dog in a fight” (68). Coriolanus worries that, if he continues to treat her with regard, “she’d become human” (68). This trope—dehumanizing the enemy—is a common tactic in warfare.
Several important motifs are introduced in these first five chapters: Coriolanus’s love for roses (as President Snow in the original trilogy), the use of hunger as a weapon during the war and in the subsequent Games, and the disruptive songs and snakes of which the reader learns as the book progresses.
By Suzanne Collins