Bryant Delafosse's Blog - Posts Tagged "hunger-games"
The Hunger Games versus Stephen King’s The Long Walk
When all the hype started regarding the Young Adult series The Hunger Games, I asked my wife--who had just read the first book--to describe the concept of the story to me. She told me that it took place in the future when twelve districts were each asked to send one representative under the age of eighteen to compete in a competition where only one contestant survives. “Waitaminute,” I told her. “Stephen King already did that story back in the seventies.”
Of course, those who are fans of King know that he released some of his early work under the name Richard Bachman (who, as the author is fond of saying, died an untimely death of cancer of the pseudonym). Two of these early novels (The Running Man and The Long Walk) were collected back in 1985 in the omnibus title The Bachman Books. Although The Running Man deals with very familiar territory as The Long Walk and The Hunger Games (ie. Totalitarian society, game show where contestants compete for their lives), the latter two have much more in common as they deal with teenagers and the similar themes of the coming of age and mortality.
“In the old days, before the Change and the Squads, when there were still millionaires, they used to set up foundations and build libraries and all that good shit. Everyone wants a bulwark against mortality, Garraty.”—from The Long Walk
Both have sixteen-year-old protagonists, but The Long Walk tells the story from the viewpoint of a teenaged male (Ray Garraty) and The Hunger Games from the female perspective (Katniss Everdeen). Also, while Games leaves much to the imagination when a “tribute” dies, Walk dispenses with its competitors in graphic detail. (After all, what would a Stephen King novel be without blood and entrails spilling onto the blacktop?)
It turns out that this is the first novel Stephen King wrote—eight years before Carrie was published in 1974, when he was a freshman at the University of Maine in 1966–67, and as far as I’m concerned it is one of his best works. Not one of his best horror novels, mind you, because it’s not a genre piece by any stretch. It’s more like one of the novellas from Different Seasons (the book from which Rita Hayworth and the Shawshank Redemption springs) that defy classification.
While Games is heavily plotted, readers will notice right off the bat that King is not as concerned with plot as he is in developing a theme in the same way he would develop a character. Here is where Walk excels and plumbs deeper than Games. The Long Walk is a classic metaphor of life and death.
The basic plot of the story involves a group of 100 teenaged boys who start walking from the Maine/Canada border until only one remains. The rules are, you have to maintain a pace of at least four miles per hour or you will be given a warning. After the third warning, you will be shot dead by the soldiers of the “Squads” that rank you on both sides. Canteens of water are given upon request, but a belt of limited nutritional pellets are only given out once a day. Any biological functions have to be taken care without leaving the route.
The result is a story that is fascinating in its mundaneness. At times grueling and as uncomfortable to read as it must be for the spectators along the Walk’s route to watch. The visuals are dark and ugly in direct opposition to the glossy spectacle of the Capitol’s Games.
Unlike Games, there is no explanation given as to why these children have to sacrifice their lives every year in the Walk. King only teases the explanation when the main character reminisces about his father and the one trip he took to watch the Walk live when he was younger. Soon after the event, his father made statements that caused him to be taken away and forced to join the Squads, which seems to be the enforcement arm of a Totalitarian government. In Games, the main protagonist, Katiniss’s father also disapproved of the contest, but did it more clandestinely by teaching his daughter a banned song called “The Hanging Tree.”
The characters that inhabit The Long Walk exemplify different life philosophies. So common are these individuals that you might recognize their type as people you know and work with. Barkovitch, the boy with the Plan with how to win the Walk and not the least concerned with making friends along the way. Olsen, the boy who is all bravado up front, but discovers that winning the Walk will be much harder than he had first imagined. Scramm, the married guy with so much self-confidence and skills to back it up that he never even considered the fact that he could lose the Walk until the common cold takes him out.
And then there’s the protagonist, Ray Garraty, the every-boy, a sixteen-year-old who’s not even sure why he entered the contest to begin with, and during the course of the Walk will re-examine his short life in the effort to make some sort of meaning out of everything. In the course of time and as the Walk starts to take a physical and psychological toll, we see as readers the sobering effects of Life in miniature—in fast-forward if you will--thrust upon the carefree spirits of youth. We see boys recognize their childhood illusions for the first time and either self-destruct or step up and become men. We see these young men age and their bodies betray them before their will does.
“I think about those things, Garraty. Just lately. Like I was old and getting senile.”--from The Long Walk
Taken as a whole, The Long Walk becomes a fascinating experiment that succeeds in what it attempts more than it fails. Ultimately, this short gem of a story manages to say more about Life and Death than The Hunger Games in three books, with all of its tightly-plotted dramatics and action sequences.
It seems odd to be recommending a tightly-contained, cerebral book from an author who is known for the polar opposite-- exactly what Suzanne Collins did with The Hunger Games. But in this particular case aiming low with an old-fashioned “weapon” finds the target where a highly-polished technological one misses.
Oddly enough, Katniss Everdeen, the main character of The Hunger Games, whose weapon of choice is a bow and arrow, would surely approve of the finesse of this particular kill shot.
Bryant Delafosse is the author of The Mall & Hallowed available at Amazon.
Of course, those who are fans of King know that he released some of his early work under the name Richard Bachman (who, as the author is fond of saying, died an untimely death of cancer of the pseudonym). Two of these early novels (The Running Man and The Long Walk) were collected back in 1985 in the omnibus title The Bachman Books. Although The Running Man deals with very familiar territory as The Long Walk and The Hunger Games (ie. Totalitarian society, game show where contestants compete for their lives), the latter two have much more in common as they deal with teenagers and the similar themes of the coming of age and mortality.
“In the old days, before the Change and the Squads, when there were still millionaires, they used to set up foundations and build libraries and all that good shit. Everyone wants a bulwark against mortality, Garraty.”—from The Long Walk
Both have sixteen-year-old protagonists, but The Long Walk tells the story from the viewpoint of a teenaged male (Ray Garraty) and The Hunger Games from the female perspective (Katniss Everdeen). Also, while Games leaves much to the imagination when a “tribute” dies, Walk dispenses with its competitors in graphic detail. (After all, what would a Stephen King novel be without blood and entrails spilling onto the blacktop?)
It turns out that this is the first novel Stephen King wrote—eight years before Carrie was published in 1974, when he was a freshman at the University of Maine in 1966–67, and as far as I’m concerned it is one of his best works. Not one of his best horror novels, mind you, because it’s not a genre piece by any stretch. It’s more like one of the novellas from Different Seasons (the book from which Rita Hayworth and the Shawshank Redemption springs) that defy classification.
While Games is heavily plotted, readers will notice right off the bat that King is not as concerned with plot as he is in developing a theme in the same way he would develop a character. Here is where Walk excels and plumbs deeper than Games. The Long Walk is a classic metaphor of life and death.
The basic plot of the story involves a group of 100 teenaged boys who start walking from the Maine/Canada border until only one remains. The rules are, you have to maintain a pace of at least four miles per hour or you will be given a warning. After the third warning, you will be shot dead by the soldiers of the “Squads” that rank you on both sides. Canteens of water are given upon request, but a belt of limited nutritional pellets are only given out once a day. Any biological functions have to be taken care without leaving the route.
The result is a story that is fascinating in its mundaneness. At times grueling and as uncomfortable to read as it must be for the spectators along the Walk’s route to watch. The visuals are dark and ugly in direct opposition to the glossy spectacle of the Capitol’s Games.
Unlike Games, there is no explanation given as to why these children have to sacrifice their lives every year in the Walk. King only teases the explanation when the main character reminisces about his father and the one trip he took to watch the Walk live when he was younger. Soon after the event, his father made statements that caused him to be taken away and forced to join the Squads, which seems to be the enforcement arm of a Totalitarian government. In Games, the main protagonist, Katiniss’s father also disapproved of the contest, but did it more clandestinely by teaching his daughter a banned song called “The Hanging Tree.”
The characters that inhabit The Long Walk exemplify different life philosophies. So common are these individuals that you might recognize their type as people you know and work with. Barkovitch, the boy with the Plan with how to win the Walk and not the least concerned with making friends along the way. Olsen, the boy who is all bravado up front, but discovers that winning the Walk will be much harder than he had first imagined. Scramm, the married guy with so much self-confidence and skills to back it up that he never even considered the fact that he could lose the Walk until the common cold takes him out.
And then there’s the protagonist, Ray Garraty, the every-boy, a sixteen-year-old who’s not even sure why he entered the contest to begin with, and during the course of the Walk will re-examine his short life in the effort to make some sort of meaning out of everything. In the course of time and as the Walk starts to take a physical and psychological toll, we see as readers the sobering effects of Life in miniature—in fast-forward if you will--thrust upon the carefree spirits of youth. We see boys recognize their childhood illusions for the first time and either self-destruct or step up and become men. We see these young men age and their bodies betray them before their will does.
“I think about those things, Garraty. Just lately. Like I was old and getting senile.”--from The Long Walk
Taken as a whole, The Long Walk becomes a fascinating experiment that succeeds in what it attempts more than it fails. Ultimately, this short gem of a story manages to say more about Life and Death than The Hunger Games in three books, with all of its tightly-plotted dramatics and action sequences.
It seems odd to be recommending a tightly-contained, cerebral book from an author who is known for the polar opposite-- exactly what Suzanne Collins did with The Hunger Games. But in this particular case aiming low with an old-fashioned “weapon” finds the target where a highly-polished technological one misses.
Oddly enough, Katniss Everdeen, the main character of The Hunger Games, whose weapon of choice is a bow and arrow, would surely approve of the finesse of this particular kill shot.
Bryant Delafosse is the author of The Mall & Hallowed available at Amazon.
