I still recall my excitement when I found out Suzanne Collins was releasing a Hunger Games prequel. Ever the Hunger Games fanatic, I was crossing my fingers that we would be provided with one of the beloved side characters of the original trilogy. When it was shared that the prequel would follow the story of a young President Snow, I could not help but scratch my head. I was supposed to read 500 pages about one of the most hated antagonists in YA literature.
Nevertheless, I persevered, and after devouring The Ballad Of Songbirds and Snakes in less than 24 hours, I have to admit that this novel is everything a prequel should be.
First, Collins opted for an unexpected protagonist. It was shocking to view a young Coriolanus Snow from this perspective, especially when the original trilogy demonstrates the person he becomes. What came as an even bigger surprise is that through some literary magic, Collins actually makes him likable. Although he may be morally gray at this point, Snow is nowhere near the evil dictator we know him to be in the original trilogy. Instead, the reader can see Snow as a teenager with a troubled past who is fiercely protective of his family. Although Capitol citizens are envisioned to live privileged lives, this is not the case for Snow, who in some ways could be considered an underdog. Dare I say it, he is someone I continually found myself rooting for.
Not only does Collins make Snow semi-likable, but she also wove a love interest into his narrative. The introduction of Lucy Gray Baird, a free spirit from District 12, seemed an unlikely match for Snow, especially considering his future disdain for District citizens. Without spoiling too much, Snow goes to great lengths and sacrifices his future to save the life of Lucy Gray. The man is utterly infatuated with her.
Yet, the shadow of Snow’s inevitable destiny looms over the narrative, which leads to a cognitive dissonance for the reader. I found myself hoping he would make the right choices, even though I knew in the end he wouldn’t. I found myself dreaming that Snow would run away to the Districts and build a life with Lucy Gray, even though I knew he would eventually become the President of Panem. I knew the kind of person he would become, but I found myself pleading: Can he not be evil just yet?
Collins does an excellent job of taking one of her most hated characters and giving us a glimpse of the humanity underneath. This is not the kind of story where the villain is evil from the start, but rather an exploration of the tragic consequences of consistently making wrong choices. It raises the question: even when given every opportunity to make the right choices, are some people innately evil? And in that case, is their destiny inevitable? The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes is both a beautiful and tragic story, and it will linger in my thoughts for years to come.