Disclaimer: This review contains SPOILERS
Two weeks have passed since I finished this novel, and only now have I been able to gather myself emotionally to write this review—that’s how profoundly devastating the experience was. The first thing I thought when I turned off my Kindle, with book cover still lingering on the screen, was that if I ever thought of rereading the previous books, I will never be rereading this particular one. I did not know how to survive the emotional damage.
Some might question, “You already knew the general outcome, so what made it so disturbing?” If you’re still asking this, you’ve either not yet read the book or missed its emotional depth entirely. In either case, consider this your final warning before proceeding further.

The Title’s Significance
The name “Sunrise on the Reaping”, just gives definition to the whole book. Throughout the narrative, we’re reminded that every Reaping day begins with a sunrise, an inescapable annual occurrence. Haymitch himself states that it’s inconceivable for the sun not to rise on a Reaping day—in his mind, the very idea that Reapings might cease to exist is unimaginable. Collins develops this metaphor masterfully throughout the book, illustrating how deeply ingrained the Games are in Panem’s collective psyche.

Character Developments
The relationship between Haymitch and Lenore Dove may seem understated, but I believe this was intentional. Collins wasn’t crafting a love story—she was bringing us back to the brutal reality of the Hunger Games, reminding us that in this world, romance is secondary to survival. However “Love you like all fire” line with the connection to Lucy Gray’s “Here’s a thing Coriolanus, I’m going to fight like all-fire to win these Games”, had me squealing like a small girl.
While we anticipated Haymitch’s reaping, the actual circumstances—being forced into the Games through a “love accident” rather than a traditional selection—was a devastating twist. This moment exemplified Collins’s genius at subverting expectations while maintaining thematic consistency. The heartbreak I felt for Haymitch in that moment extended to all the characters, particularly Louella, whose fate seemed particularly undeserved and showcased President Snow’s calculated cruelty.
Beetee’s storyline deserves special recognition. The revelation that Snow purposely placed Beetee’s child in the Games as punishment creates another layer of tragedy. The book reinforces the mantra that “one doesn’t win Games, one survives them”—there are no true victors. Imagining Haymitch having to face Beetee during subsequent Games, carrying the weight of not having saved his child, makes me sob all over again…
Also, can we talk about Megs and Wiress being District 12 mentors, since they had no living Victors? Seeing Megs and her story and how loving she was. The way she dies in “Catching Fire” finally made so much sense after this book. It all kind of snapped into place.
Talking about Catching Fire, was I the only one who thought that Plutarch in the book appeared out of nowhere? Now I finally understood who he was and why he was doing what he was.
I already touched Louella and Ampert, but Maysilee left such a hole in my heart, “not sweetheart, just sister”. Comparing it to previous books, she made us fall in love with half of the tributes, making each death increasingly devastating. This is what I will remember the

Haymitch’s Redemption
The book effectively serves as a redemption arc for Haymitch, revealing him as a compassionate 16-year-old who shouldered responsibility for those around him. We finally understand the origins of his alcoholism and reclusiveness—trauma responses to the Games and their aftermath. The knowledge that he later had to mentor his best friend’s daughter, who resembled his childhood sweetheart, adds another layer of psychological complexity to his character in the original trilogy. Yet through all this suffering, he ultimately saves Katniss, achieving a form of redemption.
We find out where the Mockingjay pin comes from. We also see Effie for the first time there. She was the last person Haymitch saw before the Games, and then she took care of him for 24 years during each Games.
Haymitch saw 48 Tributes die (48 because of Lou Lou) during his games, and it took him another 48 Tributes from District 12 to finally see the Sunrise without the Reaping.
I do not want to discuss the ending of the book as I am still processing it, but Haymitch becoming the Geese dad… I just can’t.

In Conclusion
Collins seems determined to remind readers who romanticized Snow after the previous book and film adaptation of his true nature—calculating, merciless, and fundamentally corrupt. “Sunrise on the Reaping” stands as a powerful testament to the enduring themes of the Hunger Games series: the cost of survival, the corruption of power, and the resilience of the human spirit even in the direst circumstances.
Like the Games themselves, this book leaves no victors—only survivors, including us readers, forever changed by the experience.