Katniss: Strong, or Strong for a Girl? A study of feminism in The Hunger Games

We all grew up with fantastical Young Adult literature with mind-blowing protagonists, like Harry Potter, that changed the way we dreamed and influenced the way we experienced the world.  But why is it that when a series’ main protagonist is female, she can never stand on her own, must engage in a heteronormative relationship, and exploit her femininity?

One of the hottest Young Adult series of 2011 was Suzanne Collins’ The Hunger Games. Our heroine Katniss Everdeen, a sixteen-year-old girl living under a totalitarian regime in a post-apocalyptic North America, exemplifies extraordinary characteristics we are awed by as readers. She sacrifices herself, taking the place of her sister, to participate in a modernized version of a gladiatorial tournament called the Hunger Games. As a televised reality show, the Games force twenty-four children to fight to the death as means of entertainment for the capitol city citizens. Surviving the Games is all about strategy, and for Katniss that means appealing to the viewers as a female.

Katniss’s sexuality is the central focus of the audience watching at home. From the very beginning, she must rely on the exploitation of her gender for all it’s worth. Her trainer constantly tries to make her more feminine and desirable to win her sponsors. When presented to the audience for the first time, Katniss’s beauty is what instantly earns her praise and adoration. Her team doesn’t even try to present her as a strong, capable contender—the only thing that matters is her portrayal of the feminine ideal.

Not only is her appearance a constant focal point, but Katniss is also obligated to fake a romantic interest in her fellow competitor, Peeta. Pretending to be hopelessly in love with him, Katniss garners sympathy from the viewers, encouraging them to supply resources essential to her survival. At one point, she even plays out the clichéd ‘wounded-solider-delicate –nurse’ sequence to nurse Peeta back to health after he is injured during the course of the Games.

For the entirety of the story, Katniss holds Peeta’s life in her hands—as she is a more capable competitor. One would assume that this demonstrates the pro-feminist agenda of the Hunger Games, but it’s the way in which Katniss must rely on Peeta’s survival to ensure her own survival that makes a difference. Katniss is constantly put into situations that strip her of her freedom to make her own decisions. The book repetitively demonstrates that Katniss has few options as a woman to survive the Games. Were Peeta—or any young male character for that matter—the protagonist of this tale, a romantic relationship—even fake romance—would never be essential to his survival. Marketing a Young Adult literature series about a boy being in love would not, in all likelihood, sell many copies.

This isn’t to say that the Hunger Games is a book with a sadistic, anti-feminist agenda—because Katniss is a strong and likable character. But it says something about our culture when the leading girl of a New York Times best-seller is saved by her feminine appeal and reliance on gender roles. For the sake of future generations of YA readers, we should take a stand against this stereotypical portrayal of female characters, and change the way we define what it means to be a strong female character—or rather what it means to be a strong character, period.