It’s been a while since I read a legit page-turner, but “The Hunger Games” certainly fits that description.

It’s also a rare read in that I didn’t have the burden/luxury (depending on how you look at it) of picturing the main character in my head.  The movie version of the story comes out in a few weeks, so I’ve been aware for a while that actress Jennifer Lawrence plays the lead role, Katniss.

I’ve only seen her in the 2010 film “Winter’s Bone” for which she was nominated for a Best Actress Oscar, but clearly know what she looks like.  The movie itself was also nominated for Best Picture, and was actually one of my favorites from the category.  (Netflix peeps — it’s available for instant streaming right now!  Go watch it!)  I’ll even go as far as the potentially blasphemous statement that I enjoyed it far more than “The King’s Speech.”

In “The Hunger Games” you can almost see Lawrence’s character from “Winter’s Bone,” the same kind of hard-scrabble kid doing whatever is necessary to take care of her family.  They face enormous challenges growing up in tough areas and have a father who in one way or another disappears from their life.  What follows is a test few would ever expect to face, one that requires them to fight with everything they’ve got.

It’s a character you root for.  You have to.  Sure, she can seem a bit cool and standoffish at times, but who goes through life peppy and outgoing at every moment?  As she prepares for the big challenge, she has a team of people helping her.  Her main adviser chides her for her attitude, but another she is more naturally open to says, “No one can help but admire [your] spirit.”

“My spirit,” Katniss says.  “This is a new thought.  I’m not sure exactly what it means, but it suggests I’m a fighter.  In sort of a brave way.  It’s not as if I’m never friendly.  Okay, maybe I don’t go around loving everybody I meet, maybe my smiles are hard to come by, but I do care for some people.”

The beautiful thing about this book is that it even subtly appeals for grammar nerds to get behind Katniss.  She’s from a poor district lorded over by a totalitarian government, which is seated in the “far-off city called the Capitol.” 

Who doesn’t want to fight an atrocity like that?

Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to plow through the remaining books in this series.

There are pieces of history we know, ones for which the broad strokes are considered common knowledge.  But then there are the intricacies, the different angles and depths that give us a different view, or at least a different lens with which to view those events.

Erik Larson’s “In the Garden of Beasts” is one of those stories.

It’s an account of Hitler’s rise in Germany, focusing on the period of roughly 1933-37, told through the experience of William Dodd, the U.S. ambassador to Berlin.  Larson is the author “Devil in the White City,” which I described as an “info-dense” book.  This one is no different.

Larson gives you a sense of what it’s like to walk the city’s streets at different points as Hitler’s regime takes hold of Germany.  He uses a boatload of primary documents to reveal the inner workings of the Western diplomatic corps, showing how a few people sounded alarms along the way, but no consensus for taking action against Hitler formed until it was much too late.  (You can listen here to Larson talk about the book with NPR’s Terry Gross.)

It’s easy to judge the notes that in the moment said things aren’t as bad as people are making them out to be, but of course as readers now we have the incredible advantage of knowing what was to come.  It’s hard to fault to anyone for not foreseeing such atrocities.

The U.S. consul general in Berlin, George Messersmith, was one of those putting up red flags.  Larson writes that Messersmith warned Hiter’s government “could not be viewed as a rational entity.”

“There are so many pathological cases involved that it would be impossible to tell from day to day what will happen any more than the keeper of a madhouse is able to tell what his inmates will do in the next hour or during the next day.”

Larson writes about U.S. Senator Millard Tydings, who proposed a resolution calling on President Roosevelt to express the “surprise” and “pain” of the American people upon hearing about the persecution of Jews in Germany.

But we can’t whitewash our own history, either.  Larson presents a response to Tydings’ resolution, written by Assistant Secretary of State R. Walton Moore.  Moore points out the resolution could lead to Germany asking “why the negroes of this country do not fully enjoy the right of suffrage; why the lynching of negroes in Senator Tydings’ State [Maryland] and other States is not prevented or severely punished; and how the anti-Semitic feeling in the United States, which unfortunately seems to be growing, is not checked.”

Reading this book, it’s hard not to draw parallels between the tactics of Hitler’s government and other oppressive regimes we have seen since.  Even now, as we have seen peoples in the Middle East and North Africa launch revolutions against people like Hosni Mubarak in Egypt, Moammar Gadhafi in Libya and Bashar al-Assad in Syria.  That’s not to say what they did was equal to the evils of Nazi Germany, but that doesn’t mean horrific acts haven’t taken place.

What stands out is the rhetoric.  These governments make the same kinds of statements, blaming others for their problems and attempting to restrict the flow of information in order to maintain the illusions they spin.

In his famous 1934 “Marburg speech,” Vice-Chancellor Franz von Papen was critical of the Nazi regime, but those in charge of stifling expression blocked it from being broadcast and banned his words from being printed in newspapers.

Another striking attribute of these tactics is the arrogance with which they are carried out.  The leaders have no sense of their own fallacy.  In response to the Marburg speech, Hitler says, “all these little dwarfs who think they have something to say against our idea will be swept away by its collective strength.”
After the “Night of Long Knives” in which hundreds were killed as Hitler consolidated his power, Herman Göring, a top Nazi official, said a “foreign power” was involved in plotting against the state.

In the current situation in Syria, the government has often blamed foreign powers — along with “armed terrorists” — for stoking what is now a year-long opposition uprising.

Larson writes that the purge in Germany “in time would be considered one of the most important episodes in [Hitler’s] ascent, the first act in the great tragedy of appeasement.  Initially, however, its significance was lost.  No government recalled its ambassador or filed a protest; the populace did not rise in revulsion.”

It’s not easy to know what the right response is to these situations.  After all, these are sovereign nations, and we certainly wouldn’t be happy with the international community dictating our internal affairs.  But at some point, the world has to have a voice in speaking up against evil.

Larson writes that in September 1936, about a year before his tenure in Berlin ended, Dodd wrote to Secretary of State Cordell Hull: “What mistakes and blunders since 1917, and especially during the past twelve months — and no democratic people do anything, economic or moral penalties, to halt the process!”

All of this perspective is just a small sampling of the narrative Larson is able to weave together in this book.  There are other fascinating strands — most notably the life of Dodd’s daughter, Martha.  I could not recommend this book enough, even with the underlying horror it depicts.