Sunrise on the Reaping Is the Hunger Games Prequel We’ve Been Waiting For

It’s a truth universally acknowledged that The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes was a strange choice for Suzanne Collins’s first prequel to her blockbuster The Hunger Games trilogy. Essentially an origin story for the vicious and authoritarian Cornelius Snow, the book was frequently criticized for its attempt to not only humanize an objective psychopath but also imply that the reason he became a complete monster who helped destroy thousands of lives was simply that a girl broke up with him. (A girl that he then tried to kill!) Perhaps Collins’s book was just an early, on-the-nose predictor of the horrors of incel culture, but outside of the intriguing Lucy Gray Baird, the experience was a frustrating one and certainly didn’t leave many fans of the series (read: me) hoping that this prequel well was one that Collins would return to again. Well, Sunrise on the Reaping is here to prove us all wrong.
To put it bluntly: Collins’s second Hunger Games prequel is genuinely outstanding. Its story deftly threads the needle between what we already know about Katniss Everdeen’s jaded, alcoholic mentor Haymitch Abernathy—how he won his Hunger Games, and that he returned home to a Capitol-inflicted tragedy—and his life before he became a victor. It’s both an emotional origin story and a shrewd exploration of propaganda in Panem. History, after all, is written by the victors, and that is nowhere more evident than it is here, in a book that rewrites and complicates many of our assumptions about what we know (or at least assumed) to be true from the original The Hunger Games trilogy.
Haymitch is celebrating his sixteenth birthday when the book opens. A washerwoman’s son and part-time bootlegger’s apprentice, he dreams of little more keeping his surviving family—a mother and brother—safe, and building a life with the girl he loves, Leonore Dove. (If you couldn’t tell, this girl is a Covey, so get ready for a whole lot of Edgar Allan Poe references.) He, unfortunately, shares a birthday with reaping day, meaning that his celebrations have always been somewhat muted, given that it’s also the occasion when the participants in the annual Hunger Games are selected and dragged away to the Capitol to face almost certain death.
District 12 has only ever produced one winner, the Lucy Gray we all know from Songbirds and Snakes, but her existence—heck even her name—has been seemingly struck from history in the years that have followed her victory. This year’s reaping is doubly grim, given that it’s been 50 years since the districts’ failed rebellion, which makes the forthcoming event a Quarter Quell. This means double the number of children will be selected via lottery from each district and forced to fight to the death. In the face of that, no one’s odds seem particularly in their favor. It’s a testament to Collins’s talent that Sunrise manages to make Haymitch’s reaping feel as tense as it does—he’s not immediately chosen, nor does he volunteer, but his involvement is the first of many difficult situations that feel almost chokingly unfair.