Whatever doubts I’ve had about him dissipate because if either of us took the other’s life now we’d be pariahs when we returned to District 12.

Katniss doesn’t pair up with Peeta because she actually wants to see him live through this or because she’s a decent person or anything like that.  No, she does it because she believes she has to.

And in my case—being one of the star-crossed lovers from District 12—it’s an absolute requirement if I want any more help from sympathetic sponsors.

She literally thinks that if she doesn’t ally with him, she’ll either die or be an outcast when she gets home.  The undertones of that are incredibly creepy.  She’s been forced into this relationship at every turn.  Not only goes Peeta not give her a choice about the initial set up, but now here she’s been shoved into this due to shipper viewers and (if we believe her) the necessity of circumstance.  Absolutely nothing about this is her own choice.  It’s not even the actual romance, which is hard enough, but she doesn’t even have a choice about the fake romance.  This is seriously a book where the female character has to be in a relationship (with a man) or she dies.  And if she’s not in a relationship (with a man) she has to fake one.  Or she dies.  And the book treats this as a matter of course, even praises Peeta for forcing her into this situation.  It’s not a social commentary, and Katniss isn’t horrified or even annoyed by this turn of events.  It’s just how the world works according to this book.

And that is so, so disgusting and creepy.

For two tributes to have a shot at winning, our “romance” must be so popular with the audience that condemning it would jeopardize the success of the Games.

How does this former TV writer not understand how good TV works?  Come on, dead lovers are cinematic gold.  It’s especially head-scratchy considering all the death that happens in the third book.  Apparently only the meta-narrative is allowed to cater to what audiences really react to, while the capitol-narrative has to be run by teenage shippers on a sugar high.

No thanks to me. All I’ve done is managed not to kill Peeta.

Uh, and not die yourself.  Let’s not forget that, Katniss.  I mean, for all I’ve been calling you a monster, that doesn’t mean that you should devalue all of your actions in favor of Peeta and his brilliant “lay in a pile of mud for three days” plan.

Then there’s Thresh. All right, he’s a distinct threat.

He hasn’t killed anyone, and you have no idea what he’s been doing this whole time.  We just heard a whole paragraph about how Nell isn’t a threat because her tactic so far has been evasion instead of aggression, but for some reason Thresh can operate the same way and still be considered a “threat.”

Tell me, book, is it because he’s tall, because he’s male, or because he’s black?

I think about how Foxface grew alarmed when she heard a sound at the site of the explosion. But she didn’t turn to the Woods, she turned to whatever lies across from it. To that area of the arena that drops off into I don’t know what. I feel almost certain that the person she ran from was Thresh and that is his domain.

…or is it possible that she turned that way because that’s where the sound was coming from?  For all you know, it was another goose making that noise.

Do I run from them now, on the chance they heard me call Peeta’s name?

You’re  up in a tree and we just suffered through two pages of your incomprehensible inner blathering.  If they haven’t come out by now, you have no more to worry about than if you’d kept quiet.

Katniss’s rampant paranoia is actually fitting in the arena, but I got so sick of it during training that I’m just unwilling to give her any leeway.  The book has set Katniss up as being just like that, all the time, regardless of situation, so it’s hard for me to view her paranoia as being situational here.  Instead I just want to slap her.

To confuse my enemies’ minds, I start a fire with plenty of green wood. Even if they think it’s a ruse, I hope they’ll decide I’m hidden somewhere near it. While in reality, I’ll be tracking Peeta.

Hey, look, she actually did something that required thought and planning and non-violence.  Good job, Katniss.  It’s about time.

It would be no small matter to escape the stream now. Fighting off Cato or Thresh as I climbed over this rocky terrain.

Uh, you have a bow and rocks don’t provide great concealment.  It’s not like this’ll come down to hand-to-hand.  Why doesn’t anyone in these books understand the point of a ranged weapon?

Still, it must have been Peeta. Who else in the arena would call me sweetheart?

Katniss, I would like to introduce you to this concept called “sarcasm.”

I kneel beside him. “I guess all those hours decorating cakes paid off.”

Peeta smiles. “Yes, frosting. The final defense of the dying.”

Sort of like Rue as an omni-farmer, and John as an omni-engineer, Peeta now has the skill of perfect camouflage because he paints cakes.  Even though the two skills are vastly different. 

It’s almost like the author doesn’t understand nuance or the utter diversity of skill sets out there.  I bet she thinks that if she writes for TV it means she can write for books- Oh, right.

“Need to tell you something.” I lean over and put my good ear to his lips, which tickle as he whispers. “Remember, we’re madly in love, so it’s all right to kiss me anytime you feel like it.”

*shudder*  Peeta, stop being so creepy.

First, she’s not in love with him and has never claimed to be.  Even in their own fake love story, she’s never been in love with him or even aware of his feelings until the interview.  So this just makes no sense.  Second, Peeta is unapologetically pressuring her into making out.  Look at that.  No remorse, no discomfort, no nothing.  As soon as they meet up again, the first thing he does is imply that she has to kiss him in order to keep up this story that she never agreed to.

I was somewhat forgiving of the whole thing after the interview.  It was crappy, but not creepy, back when she didn’t have to do or fake anything.  But we’ve now stepped over into badtouch territory.

I jerk my head back but end up laughing. “Thanks, I’ll keep it in mind.” At least, he’s still able to joke around.

And the text is trying very hard to make sure we don’t see that.  The text wants us to laugh.

No, book, no.  That’s not funny.  Maybe if we lived in an equality paradise, where women are constantly forced into viewing relationships as necessary, maybe then it would be funny.  Maybe if Peeta was prone to dry humor, or even showed an ounce of awareness that the whole situation is unfair and ridiculous, maybe then it would be funny.  But when a guy forces a woman into making out with?  Not funny.

The thought makes me hesitate a moment, but then I plunge in. Naked bodies are no big deal in the arena, right?

Beats the hell out of me.  I’ve not been watching these games my whole life.  Also, you refused to take your undies off when you took a bath in the stream  earlier, so I’m guessing this author doesn’t want to display nudity unless there’s a chance for a shipper moment involved.

His undershirt is so plastered into his wounds I have to cut it away with my knife and drench him again to work it loose.

So, I don’t really mind that Katniss is doing it here because this is an unusual situation.  However, readers, don’t do this yourself.  Tearing debris out of a wound makes it bleed more.  In Peeta’s case, with medical help several days away at least, bleeding the wound isn’t a bad idea.  In your case, wait until you get to a hospital so they can control the bleeding if need be.

four tracker jacker stings, if you count the one under his ear.

…why would I not?

he’s burning with fever. I dig through the first-aid kit I got from the boy from District 1 and find pills that reduce your temperature.

And this is backwards from my last advice.  Readers, of course you want to keep fever controlled, because you can go to a hospital where they give you medicine for what fevers are supposed to do.  In Katniss’s several-days-from-help situation, fevers are good.  Fevers are not just the body going haywire; they actually serve a purpose.  The heat fights infection.  What you want to avoid is letting the fever get too high, not letting him have a fever at all.

My mother actually breaks down and buys these on occasion when her home remedies fail.

So, are these magitech fever pills, instead of our current pills that are made from plants?

It’s bad enough that Mom has only been given one skill in this book, but must you constantly devalue that skill while you’re at it?

Hm, I haven’t given Mom a name yet.  I think I shall call her Cynthia.  I shall also chose to assume that she actually does a great deal of good with her “home remedies,” only failing to help the people who are the worst off.  I mean, there’s room to assume that, but the book consistently fails to recognize any successes that Cynthia has.  It only ever brings up specific cases of healing in order to point out her failures.

Because this book is feminist and don’t you forget it.

The deep inflamed gash oozing both blood and pus. The swelling of the leg. And worst of all, the smell of festering flesh.

Yeah, so he’ll be fine.  I mean, think about it.  That wound has been packed with mud and standing water for three to four days, and that’s as bad as it’s gotten.  Sure, it’s not pretty, but given the timeline, it’s not exactly a speedy or virulent strain of infection, either.  It seems to be a pretty average case that’s simply been left packed with mud for several days.

But the gash on his leg… what on earth can I do for that?

“Why don’t we give it some air and then…” I trail off.

Except in un-research land, where he’s pretty much doomed without magitech medicine.  Let’s watch as Katniss does literally everything wrong that she can possibly do.

I examine the contents of the first-aid kit. It’s pretty basic stuff. Bandages, fever pills, medicine to calm stomachs. Nothing of the caliber I’ll need to treat Peeta.

Hon, I don’t think you understand what “caliber” means.  That stomach medicine could be highest caliber, best stomach-calming medicine in the world and it won’t help an infected cut.  Your problem here is that nothing is designed to fix this specific problem, not that they’re just shoddy quality.

I know the tracker jacker leaves draw out infection, so I start with those.

…WHAT?  The leaves cure your stings full of venom not infection.  I mean, just…what?  Do you really think that wasp stings swell up because they’re infected?  Do you even know what “infected” means?  Should we add it to the list of vocabulary words you need to study?

Within minutes of pressing the handful of chewed-up green stuff into the wound

Step one in how to not treat an infected wound: spit in it.  Really, you’re just adding more nastiness to the soup at this point, Katniss.

pus begins running down the side of his leg.

This is a good thing, but probably has more to do with the fact that you’re just fucking with the wound and putting pressure on it, not the leaves.

“Katniss?” Peeta says. I meet his eyes, knowing my face must be some shade of green. He mouths the words. “How about that kiss?”

Priorities, Peeta.

“Maybe I’ll put some of the burn ointment on it. I think it helps with infection anyway. And wrap it up?”

Man, everything fights infection in this world, doesn’t it?  Infection should probably be added to our list of omnis.  It’s an omni-illness.

Also, step two in what not to do: wrap up the wound before it’s done draining.

I do and the whole thing seems a lot more manageable, covered in clean white cotton.

It may look cleaner, but all you’re doing is keeping the pus right where it’s going to do the most harm.  Just because it looks nicer doesn’t mean anything.

“Here, cover yourself with this and I’ll wash your shorts.”

“Oh, I don’t care if you see me,” says Peeta.

He just gets creepier and creepier every time he opens his mouth.

“Please, [Haymich] can’t stand being in the same room with me,” I say.

Whaaaaa?  The only time he’s been uber annoyed with her was when she inexplicably was too mysterious to act mysterious before the interview.  And even then he didn’t kick her out of the room.

This book cares not for consistent characterization.

Really, I’d like to look around for a better place, but this one will have to do because my ally is shot.

You’re in a cave that has 20 ft of clear, open ground approach and  you have a bow.  You can shoot better from there than you could in a tree.  What is wrong with your brain?

His forehead’s burning up. Like the medicine’s having no effect at all. Suddenly, out of nowhere, I’m scared he’s going to die.

…out of nowhere?  We just went over several pages of you whinging about his wound.

 Impulsively, I lean forward and kiss him, stopping his words.

I don’t really mind this, as Katniss is the one taking the initiative and doing it by choice.

This is probably overdue anyway since he’s right, we are supposed to be madly in love.

I do mind this, this implication that not only is she required to kiss Peeta, but also that she should have done it at some point before and she’s a bad person for putting it off.

And fuck off with the “madly in love” bit.

Haymitch couldn’t be sending me a clearer message. One kiss equals one pot of broth. I can almost hear his snarl.

Ugh, everything about this gives me the heeby-jeebies.  Everyone in Katniss’s life is shoving her into making out with Peeta.  If it were treated as what it is, it would be a fine story.  If people were aware that it’s unfair but they have no choice, if people were just slightly upset by it.  But instead it’s treated with all the grace and awareness of a bad shipper fic.

I think of my parents. The way my father never failed to bring her gifts from the woods. The way my mother’s face would light up at the sound of his boots at the door. The way she almost stopped living when he died.

Dad shows his love by doing stuff.  Mom shows her love by sitting at home and waiting for presents. 

FEMINISM!

Huh, should I name Dad as well?  He’ll be Brandon from now on.