After I finished Mockingjay, the final book of the Hunger Games trilogy, (spoiler alert?)I wasn’t really sure how to feel. I invested a lot into that story, and felt emotionally exhausted afterwards, but then it just ended. More and more, books are becoming ‘realistic’ in that they don’t have happy, neatly-tied-in-a-bow endings. Which I like; I like that they’re closer to ‘real life’, but that still leaves something to be desired too. Almost like there’s a lack of completeness. I was having trouble figuring out exactly why the ending of the trilogy bothered me so much. I finally figured it out, and texted my roommate (who has also read the books) to tell her my discovery. I told her that I thought the part that was unsatisfying was the realization that after all the time we spent following Katniss and Peeta, the story, in the end, didn’t really seem to be about them at all. It was about the Capitol and the rebels. My roommate responded back with, “Oh yeah, kind of like our story within God’s bigger story.” My roommate Jesus Juked me over the Hunger Games.
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