Disclaimer: Copying and pasting the post I made last year. Sorry!
Obviously this was what I would write about next. You can't read the first one, have the second (and third) at your disposal and say, "eh. I can get to it another day." No. It doesn't work that way. The moment you put the first one down, the second one is immediately opened regardless of the time of day because these books are like crack. Phew, it feels so good to say that out loud!
This has to be my favorite book in the trilogy. By now, characters and storylines have been established (and quite well, I might add) and based on the ending of the first one, we're ready to figure out how the hell these people are going to be able to live in this society. Just when you think that everything is okay and we're going to skip into the grimy sunset of district twelve, all HELL breaks loose. Shit gets wild. President Snow becomes very reminiscent of Narnia's White Witch. It's fine. I'm not now emotionally screwed up by Part Two of the novel. No, siree!
Part One of the story is what you might expect. Part Two throws you for a total loop. Part Three begins to slowly eat away at your soul. No big deal. We meet a few new characters in Part Two and I am personally infatuated by the arrogant tribute, Finnick Odair. Why? I don't know, but I would like to see Hunter Parrish portray him in the movie. JUST SAYING.
It's hard to discuss this without giving away too much of either plot, so I apologize if this isn't exactly what you were hoping for. I can assure you that despite the insanity of the first one, this one trumps it in that category. You can't stop screaming, reading for hours or wondering why fiction is torturing you this bad.
God, I love these books. Reading it for the third time just doesn't get old and reminds you that there IS still great literature out there. Even if it is about insane brutality and totalitarianism.
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