Making Dystopia Cool

2010s Young Adult Fiction and Its Consequences

Jennifer Lawrence as Katniss Everdeen in The Hunger Games: Mockingjay (Part 1) (2014), Shailene Woodley as Beatrice “Tris” Prior in Divergent (2014), and Dylan O’Brien as Thomas in The Maze Runner (2014).

Dystopian literature has held a prominent rank in the cultural zeitgeist for the last hundred years or so, with novels like 1984 (1949), Fahrenheit 451 (1953), and Brave New World (1931) coming to reflect growing anxieties about society becoming increasingly authoritarian, surveillance-based, and technology-centric. A burst of these literary classics seemed to erupt in the lead-up and aftermath of the Great Depression and World War II, as well as peppered through the Cold War years and approaching the new millennium (The Handmaid’s Tail (1985), Parable of the Sower (1993), The Giver (1993), etc.). It was another decade or so until popular media sharply returned to the dystopian genre in a way that was arguably more mainstream and invigorated than ever before. The Hunger Games (2008-2010), Divergent (2011-2013), and The Maze Runner (2009-2012) series and their subsequent film adaptations in the 2010s not only made dystopian stories relevant again, but they contributed to a full-on re-brand of the genre. Suddenly, the weight of impending societal collapse was one intentionally carried by a crop of internet-savvy, concerned, and energetic youth. And dare I say it: for a new generation, apocalypse was made as scary as it was thrilling, and as grimy as it was sexy.

I was about to start middle school when I first watched The Hunger Games (2012). It was the first PG-13 movie that I viewed on the big screen and having not read the book, I walked into the theater with a slate clean of any expectations. I knew the basic premise of the story and it frightened me beyond belief. I remember my parents also being a bit concerned about their child watching fictional children slaughter one another in an arena while adults watched for sport. I expected the viewing experience to be more akin to a jump-scare, slasher film, but I recall walking out of the cinema with a sense that my consciousness had been raised. What exactly I was now more conscious of was unclear - I didn’t yet have the words for it. But my rather sheltered, suburban young mind was grasping some semblance of the atrocities that sprout from sharp class divisions and authoritarian ruling systems. There was a clear sense of injustice onscreen, but also a sense that these individuals who were made powerless could somehow be powerful through resistance, even if it meant risking their own lives. I rushed home and read the trilogy in a few short weeks.

An important feature of The Hunger Games is the love triangle between Katniss, Peeta, and Gale, which is an undercurrent through the three books and a large part of what kept me utterly hooked on the series for years. Looking back, I think that my passion for the story paired with my inability to fully grasp its themes manifested in an intense obsession with the book’s romantic arcs. I took to Instagram and Tumblr blogs for fan-made narratives, photo and video edits, and other musings on Katniss’ relationships. Mirroring Twilight (2008) fan efforts, attempts were made to generate a “Teem Peeta” vs. “Team Gale” discourse. However, while big, The Hunger Games’ “shipping wars” were never quite as world-dominating as Twilight’s. This is because romance, while an important vehicle in The Hunger Games, was never the main point, which is something I’ve further realized, obtusely, upon rewatching the series as an adult.

Josh Hutcherson as Peeta Mellark and Jennifer Lawrence as Katniss Everdeen in The Hunger Games (2012)

On the surface, romantic love in The Hunger Games shows the audience what’s at stake for Katniss - illuminating what exactly the ruling class of the Capitol can take away from her if she chooses to jump out of line. This is what it appears to do. And it would do a more decent job if Katniss’ familial relationship with her sister Prim wasn’t as foundational to the story’s themes as it is. The relationship between the sisters is what best showcases the injustices of the dystopian setting - a sixteen-year-old Katniss volunteers to take on the burden of her twelve-year-old sister’s death sentence, leaving her impoverished family - already marked by the death of their father - without their primary provider. The livelihood of Katniss’ family and home district is what is truly at stake, it’s what kicks off the rebellion that unfolds in the following films. 

Romance serves another important role, as a palpable, intoxicating set dressing. Katniss’ relationship with Peeta in The Hunger Games and Tris’ relationship with Four in Divergent is one of many spoonfuls of sugar to accompany the anti-authoritarian and anti-conformity sentiments. Sure, these relationships become more intense as the stories progress, but they’re rendered tangential when compared to the protagonist’s relationship with herself, her family, and her home. Seeing beautiful young people undergo personal transformations with a beautiful romantic counterpart helps convert an otherwise apocalyptic story drenched with societal reckoning into a pop culture touchstone, particularly among young girls and women. The love triangle, the clean skin, chic hair, and post-apocalyptic outfits that conveniently mirror what’s in trend at your local mall’s H&M - all of this contributed to a real-time project of making dystopia - which is supposed to oppose “utopia” - cool. Blending the kindling of revolutionist ideas with chewable romance tropes and attractive faces Trojan Horsed the sparks of said ideas into the minds of pre-teens without possessing the stuffiness of older, more academic dystopian texts. The authors baked the vegetables into the dessert, so to speak, and they did it well.

Shailene Woodley as Tris and Theo James as Four in Divergent (2014)

Of course, the cultural moment of 2010s dystopian media wouldn’t have been a unique moment at all without the tenacity of online fan communities, specifically Tumblr blogs. Though the literature they were celebrating communicated anxiety about technological progress, pre-teens and teens showcased their mastery over these new systems of communication by producing and disseminating edited photos, videos, and writing about their favorite dystopian series. Online fan communities helped cultivate young peoples’ digital prowess and, in some cases, offered a bedrock of knowledge upon which disparate organizational efforts were built.

Making dystopia cool in the 2010s undoubtedly ignited a sincere interest in YA dystopian novels among pre-teens and teens, and thus a subsequent fledgling interest in ideas relating to resistance and refusal of tyranny. At a similar rate, online activism has become both a virtue-signaling tool and an invaluable instrument to help incite change. Part of me wonders how big of a role mainstream young adult, dystopian literature played in helping make rebellion an aesthetic, with its romanticization of a genre meant to encompass suffering, injustice, and totalitarianism. But would removing romance and chicness from the plotlines and visuals remove a great deal of interest? Is it important that dystopian concepts are transmitted with less “fluff” lest their messages are watered down? Or is such content necessary to connect with young audiences?

Series like The Hunger Games, Divergent, and The Maze Runner introduced young audiences to preliminary ideas about authoritarianism and revolution while being sanitized and attractive enough to cater to a pre-teen audience and fester a global pop culture frenzy, both on and offline. These books - and the online communities that sprouted among fans - were integral building blocks for young readers to build more complex ideas upon. At the same time, as we’ve come to reckon with performative “slacktivism” online, it’s clear that true rebellion is not as glamorous as it seems in books and movies. While the internet can be an instrumental organizing tool, many have rightfully argued that true change is made by action that happens offline, in tangible communities.

Whether or not a nuanced media genre will rattle our collective consciousnesses in such a way again is uncertain. 2010s dystopian media offered a gateway to connection for young people online, introducing many (like myself) to internet communities to begin with. In the aftermath, the internet has become a place where we’ve remained quite comfortable and at times, one might argue, a little too much so. We idealized dystopia - and have now embarked on the quest to romanticize every other avenue of life by making beautiful media out of our own lives and interests. Yet, with the lightspeed at which our attention spans hop between streamer shows and YA paperbacks, I’m uncertain we’ll be able to sit and obsess over a genre in such an electric way again. At least not for more than a few weeks at a time. 

Still from The Maze Runner (2014).

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