The villain origin story I never knew I needed: A review of ‘The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes’

“In penance for their uprising, each district shall offer up a male and a female between the ages of 12 and 18 at a public ‘Reaping’. These tributes shall be delivered to the custody of The Capitol and then transferred to a public arena where they will fight to the death until a lone victor remains. Henceforth and forevermore this pageant shall be known as The Hunger Games.”

If you don’t get instantly hooked by that premise alone, I don’t know how else to convince you. Suzanne Collins’ The Hunger Games series wastes no time in announcing itself as a violent, high-stakes story, and, as a tribute of the 74^th Hunger Games, Katniss Everdeen takes us on a journey of survival, love, inequality, and hope. How can you not love it?

When I first discovered that this outstanding trilogy had a prequel, initial excitement soon turned to scepticism. The first three books, released from 2008-2010, set the bar extremely high, and from looking at Goodreads reviews, Collins’ prequel The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes, was not received nearly as well. With an average rating of 3.86 out of 5 stars (at the time of writing this), a lot of fans weren’t too happy. “What a chore this book was,” one reviewer claimed, “This book added nothing to the Panem universe.” Others were quick to agree. “Did the world really need The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes? I think not,” one fan claimed, whilst others criticised it as “a train-wreck of a novel.” From reading these reviews, it wasn’t looking good.

However, I am here to tell you that I stand proudly among the 28% of people on Goodreads who believe that this is a 5-star book. I will now tell you exactly why, but first, here’s a little bit of context:

The story is set just before the 10^th annual Hunger Games and follows 18-year-old Coriolanus Snow as he becomes a mentor to District 12’s female tribute, Lucy Gray Baird. For those of you who may not be acquainted with the entire Hunger Games universe, Coriolanus Snow is the main villain of Katniss’ story (64 years later in the timeline), being Panem’s ruthless President, overseeing the cruelty of The Hunger Games.

My first thought when hearing that the prequel would centre on him was something along the lines of “Why Snow?” He was one of the last characters I thought deserved their very own prequel; characters like Haymitch and Finnick, victors of the 50^th and 65^th Hunger Games were far better choices in my mind. However, upon reading the prequel in its entirety, I have come to realise why Snow’s story is such an important one to tell.

Collins makes it clear right from the beginning that Coriolanus Snow is extremely preoccupied with the notion of becoming powerful and will do anything (even cheat) to help his tribute win.

Suzanne Collins’ characterisation of this absolutely despicable character was phenomenal. Thank God it wasn’t written in the first-person perspective we got in the main trilogy – I don’t think I could have lasted a second inside this sociopath’s mind. Even his pitiful backstory didn’t make up for the things he did (and thought) in this book.

This prequel is set following the destructive war with the districts, and the Snow family, once wealthy and respected, are now falling to pieces. Coriolanus Snow, son of the Snow’s patriarch, is determined to regain the respect that his family once had, and he will do anything (and I mean anything) to succeed. So, when he becomes mentor to the female tribute of District 12, he sees this as the perfect opportunity to restore his family to prosperity. The mentor who successfully aids their tribute in winning The Hunger Games will be rewarded with a scholarship and monetary prize – all the things Coriolanus Snow so desperately wants.

Despite being a book centred around his life, I was very relieved to find that Collins would not glorify Snow in any way whatsoever, which some villain origin stories tend to lean more towards. Collins actually does quite the opposite – she proves why he should be utterly hated and leaves no room for sympathy. Snow’s character is presented as so detestable and his actions so inexcusable, that even if you aren’t aware of the role he later plays in Katniss’ story, it is impossible not to utterly hate him.

Even when he does have his seemingly “glorious” moments as a mentor, Collins is clever to remind us of his true intentions. When his “best friend” is killed (mainly by his own hand), Snow simply thinks: “Poor Sejanus. Poor sensitive, foolish, dead Sejanus.” Doesn’t really sound like something a friend would say, in my opinion. My point is that Collins perfectly portrays Snow as a manipulative, cunning, calculating, and selfish character – the President Snow we know and hate.

His position as a mentor, a role that’s supposed to be supportive, helpful, and understanding (take Haymitch as the perfect example), is instead one of toxic obsession. Even the mere thought of Lucy Gray having an ex-boyfriend in District 12 has Snow’s blood boiling: “It was a given that Lucy Gray belonged to him, as if she’d had no life before her name was called out at the reaping.” Collins makes it clear right from the beginning that Snow is extremely preoccupied with the notion of becoming powerful and will do anything (even cheat) to get his tribute to win. Therefore, his mindset going into The Hunger Games is one of greed, immorality, and selfishness and Lucy Gray’s triumphs are ones that will exclusively benefit his unjust and extremely unfair rise to power. A detestable yet well-constructed character. Well done, Collins.

Readers who are familiar with the main trilogy will also appreciate the well-placed references and nods to Katniss’ story (with somewhat of a mention of her name in there too). I love it when a prequel addresses the origins of things mentioned in their main series, almost like they’re expanding the universe without interfering with the original characters’ storylines.

Being set 64 years before the first book, Collins gives her readers an insight into how certain aspects of the Games were created. The whole idea of mentors, Capitol citizens making bets, sponsors, interviewing tributes, forming allies, the creation of the Victor’s Village, some things that Snow had a hand in creating, were all further explained in this prequel. Knowing what I know now makes re-reading the main trilogy even more impactful – and I think that’s how you know if a prequel has succeeded or not.

Overall, this book most definitely exceeded my expectations – pay no attention to those reviewers on Goodreads; they don’t know what they’re talking about. The one bit of advice I would give to anyone considering reading this is to familiarise yourself with the main trilogy; it will make the reading experience just that little bit more worth it. I cannot wait for The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes to be released in cinemas (on my birthday!) and I hope it will impress me as much as this book did.

5/5 stars