The First Hunger Games

Before the Hunger Games were even a stirring in the mind of Suzanne Collins, another deadly game of cat and mouse hit the scene of literature. In "The Hunger Games," humans are placed in a forest, and later jungle, paradise.  But they aren't there to just take in the view.  They are there to fight to the death.  Man against man, human against human in a fight for survival.  And for most, the odds are not always in their favor.

Now image a different book, one where our hero finds himself on a forest island.  Where our hero isn't there just to take in the sights and sounds, but in a desperate race and struggle for survival.  Sound familiar?  Well, the work I'm referring to is none other than Richard Connell's work "The Most Dangerous Game."

Rainsford expressed his surprise. "Is there big game on this island?" 

The general nodded. "The biggest." 

"Really?" 

"Oh, it isn't here naturally, of course. I have to stock the island." 

"What have you imported, general?" Rainsford asked. "Tigers?" 

The general smiled. "No," he said. "Hunting tigers ceased to interest me some years ago. I exhausted their possibilities, you see. No thrill left in tigers, no real danger. I live for danger, Mr. Rainsford."

When I first read this short story, I was amazed.  Mostly because it was actually interesting, while all the other short stories I had to read for my English class were just so-so.

Why was I amazed?  What drew me to this epic story of survival and out-witting and out-maneuvering?  I believe it's the same thing that drives kids to read "The Hunger Games" today.  It's fascinating to watch people trying to out smart one another and out battle one another, especially when it's a fight to the death. It's a peek at the human condition, the human psyche.  When pushed up against the wall, how far will your morality be thrown away in order to survive?

"Rainsford," called the general, "if you are within sound of my voice, as I suppose you are, let me congratulate you. Not many men know how to make a Malay mancatcher. Luckily for me I, too, have hunted in Malacca. You are proving interesting, Mr. Rainsford. I am going now to have my wound dressed; it's only a slight one. But I shall be back. I shall be back."

Confession time: I've never actually been in a giant arena and forced to survive against an opponent whose only objective is to kill me.  Sorry, but it's never happened.

It has in my dreams a couple of times, though.  Those are fascinating, because in some I refuse to kill, and instead spend my time helping others hide.  In other dreams, I am the one going about taking lives.  What does that say about my morality?

In "The Most Dangerous Game," the main character and hero of the story is Rainsford, who is forced to make similar decisions.  In one part of the novel, he sets up a trap to kill his pursuer. 

They would be on him any minute now. His mind worked frantically. He thought of a native trick he had learned in Uganda. He slid down the tree. He caught hold of a springy young sapling and to it he fastened his hunting knife, with the blade pointing down the trail; with a bit of wild grapevine he tied back the sapling. Then he ran for his life. The hounds raised their voices as they hit the fresh scent. Rainsford knew now how an animal at bay feels. 

He had to stop to get his breath. The baying of the hounds stopped abruptly, and Rainsford's heart stopped 

too. They must have reached the knife. 

He shinned excitedly up a tree and looked back. His pursuers had stopped. But the hope that was in Rainsford's brain when he climbed died, for he saw in the shallow valley that General Zaroff was still on his feet. But Ivan was not. The knife, driven by the recoil of the springing tree, had not wholly failed.

Does he feel any remorse?  No, he couldn't.  It was kill or be killed.  I like to think of myself as a moral person.  But the thoughts and ideas that came from this short story blew me away.  Could a person's morality be compromised?  Or put in check for a while?  The answer was yes, of course, but even to  morally superior people?  Like myself?

I've been known to cave and do stupid things under pressure.  And while lying is on that list, murder is not. Why is that?  Is it because murder is a more "serious" sin?  And what is the difference between self-defense and cold-blooded murder?  Or killing so that the person you killed can't do any more harm?  Like in Rainsford's case . . .

The general sucked in his breath and smiled. "I congratulate you," he said. "You have won the game." 

Rainsford did not smile. "I am still a beast at bay," he said, in a low, hoarse voice. "Get ready, General Zaroff." 

The general made one of his deepest bows. "I see," he said. "Splendid! One of us is to furnish a repast for the hounds. The other will sleep in this very excellent bed. On guard, Rainsford." . . . 

He had never slept in a better bed, Rainsford decided.

The ending of the piece is ambiguous.  Done on purpose, without a doubt.  The ending skips over one of the most important parts of the story, leaving what happened to be left to the imagination of the reader.

I find this ambiguity a parallel to our own morality's ambiguity.  We think we have our morals all figured out and set . . . right up until they are tested and tried.  

It leaves me to ask the question, one in which my subconscious mind has given me both answers to through my dreams: When placed in such a situation, would I refuse to murder, or would I defend myself in such a manner?

"The Hunger Games" brings up these issues, sure, but all of these questions were started a long long time ago in a short story called "The Most Dangerous Game."