Wait, there’s no ifs about that. I don’t understand what’s going on. And if I don’t, it’s time for Peeta and me to clear out of here.

And this is why consistently lying to everyone about everything is a bad idea. 

You’d think someone would have realized this after the disaster that was the “keep secrets from Peeta and just assume he’ll follow the script” plan.  That blew up in their faces and they all agreed that it was a bad thing that shouldn’t be repeated.  So then what happened?  They repeated it.  For no reason.

The only thing that carries through this whole book is the assurance that nothing else will.  No one will learn from their mistakes or consider past actions or let events influence their future/current decisions.  Everything exists in a vacuum.

If I was really teaching him to swim, I’d make him take off the belt since it keeps him afloat, but what does it matter now?

Why?

We put water wings on kids when we teach them to swim.  It helps then learn the basics of moving around in the water without “throwing them in the deep end” as it were.  But more to the point, Peeta isn’t learning how to swim for fun, he’s learning how to swim for not fucking dying in the games.  It’s a very specific situation, and they’ve got a limited time to teach him this skill.  Naturally, it would be better for him to not have to rely on that floatation device, but in a time crunch, a little is better than nothing.

Finnick’s weaving a new net out of vines

This is like the fourth time he’s sat down to make nets and he’s never used them.  It’s like he’s just been given one note, because he’s from the fishing village and heaven forbid we ever forget that.

Peeta nods, and I can see him considering my proposition. Weighing if the odds will be in our favor. “Tell you what,” he says. “Let’s stick around until Brutus and Enobaria are dead. I think Beetee’s trying to put together some kind of trap for them now. Then, I promise, we’ll go.”

But as soon as that happens, then they’ll have nothing to do except hunt you.

But if we leave now, we’ll have two sets of adversaries after us. Maybe three, because who knows what Chaff’s up to?

Oh, I see.  You assume they’d be hunting you anyway, instead of still trying to contend with each other, because of course Katniss assumes that she’s the center of the entire fucking universe.  She never even spares a moment of consideration to think that maybe, just maybe, everyone won’t be focused on her.

Perhaps not as specifically as we have. But they must know that at least some of the zones are wired for attacks and that they’re reoccurring in a circular fashion.

…how is that any less useful than what you guys know?  It’s not like the word clock is some great advantage.  “Death traps that activate in a clockwise fashion” is basically the same thing as calling it a clock, just without the shorthand.

since [Johanna]’s always pretty much rabid

Oh really?  What’s one example?  When she took care of Beetee and Wiress even though they were both incapacitated and she was exhausted, then did nothing worse at the end of that but yell a little bit?  When she fetched water for you?  When she stood guard with you?  Perhaps a few minutes ago when she decided that you two playing the water was dull so she went to take a nap?

Katniss’s unending Johanna-hate was not properly set up.  I know what she’s trying to do, and I even think it’s possible.  Katniss doesn’t have to like Johanna, that’s fine.  It’s possible to simply not like someone even if no one does something wrong, and this situation seems like it would be ripe for that sort of situation.  But since Katniss decided that Johanna was a selfish bitch from the very start, instead of waiting for that to be established, she just seems overly aggressive and harsh.

This has always boggled me in books, when characters react to the way a newcomer is going to end up instead of what they’re actually doing.  Especially when it comes to bad guys.  Why is it so important that the readers know so-and-so is terrible from the start?  Why does the main hero have to have a “gut feeling” about the other-wise charming stranger?  Why can’t they be clueless or fooled or—

Oh.  Well.  Answered that question, didn’t I?  😛

There’s nothing patronizing in his voice, and yet I can’t help thinking he reminds me of a schoolteacher about to ease children into a lesson.

What is that “yet” doing in there?  Those two clauses are not contradictory.

When the bolt strikes, the electricity will travel down the wire and into not only the water but also the surrounding beach, which will still be damp from the ten o’clock wave. Anyone in contact with those surfaces at that moment will be electrocuted,” says Beetee.

So…his plan is basically the old go-to “toaster in the bathtub”?  Which doesn’t even work? 

Beetee, I thought you were supposed to be smart.

“But all the seafood will be cooked,” says Peeta.

“Probably more than cooked,” says Beetee. “We will most likely be eliminating that as a food source for good.

Dude, electricity doesn’t evaporate fish.  They aren’t going to disappear.  Even if you kill them all, they’d just float to the top and be easier to collect.

And even if we don’t and just kill the seafood, Brutus and Enobaria lose it as a food source, too.”

How do you not understand that dead fish is edible?  Are you eating all your meals live?

“It’s better than hunting them down in the jungle, anyway. And I doubt they’ll figure out our plan, since we can barely understand it ourselves.”

Water conducts electricity.  Electrify everything in the arena that’s wet and hope the others are standing in the surf.  It’s pretty straightforward.  The only confusing bit is the magical disappearing fish.

I let Johanna lead because it’s a pretty straight shot up to the tree, and I figure she can’t get us too lost.

You’re cool with assuming she knows all about logging, but you assume she can’t navigate a heavily-wooded area?

Where do you think trees come from?

I wish Haymitch would stop sending us that District 3 bread and get us some more of that District 4 stuff, because I’ve sweated out buckets in the last two days, and even though I’ve had the fish, I’m craving salt.

How can you complain about saltwater and a lack of salt in the same sentence?

The tree rats don’t seem to have any fear of humans, so I take down three easily.

Animals that aren’t afraid of humans are animals that have really good natural defenses.  It would be nice to see that reflected here, but no, instead we’re just going to get the passive meals-on-legs.

We take a circuitous route back to the ten o’clock beach.

They seriously haven’t encountered one thing that wants to kill them sense they figured out the time.

WORST.  DEATHTRAP.  EVER.

Man, this chapter is dull.  The whole thing is nothing but Beetee explaining his plan and then Katniss summarizing how they all walk around and don’t find any traps or enemies.  I know it’s probably supposed to be the “calm before the storm,” but there’s no sense of any tension in this section, no sense that we’re building up to something big.  There’s a plan that only may or may not work and that no one has any confidence in, and the group isn’t building it up as if it’s some last grand stand or anything.  Instead they treat it as a matter of course and take naps.  *yawn*