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I actually liked the protagonist because she is not perfect. A fresh breeze of air.
Unfortunately it ended on a. Cliffhanger.
Graphic: Ableism, Body shaming, Bullying, Child abuse, Confinement, Death, Emotional abuse, Toxic relationship, Violence, Police brutality, Medical content, Grief, Medical trauma, Death of parent, Gaslighting, Toxic friendship, Dysphoria, Injury/Injury detail
Graphic: Ableism, Body shaming, Bullying, Confinement, Dysphoria, Classism
3.5 stars!!
Moderate: Body shaming, Bullying, Confinement, Death, Violence, Blood, Medical content, Grief, Death of parent, Fire/Fire injury, War, Classism
Graphic: Body shaming, Gaslighting, Dysphoria
Minor: Confinement, Death, Death of parent, Fire/Fire injury, Alcohol
Graphic: Body shaming, Confinement, Death, Medical content, Grief, Medical trauma, Abandonment, War, Injury/Injury detail
Graphic: Body shaming
Moderate: Emotional abuse, Medical trauma
Minor: Bullying, Confinement, Eating disorder
Graphic: Body shaming, Bullying, Eating disorder, Fatphobia, Gaslighting
Moderate: Emotional abuse, Physical abuse, Racism, Kidnapping, Death of parent, Toxic friendship
Minor: Animal death, Confinement, Mental illness, Medical trauma
Tally Youngblood managed to straddle the fine line between relatable and maddeningly naïve. I got her struggle—being conditioned to see herself as ugly and then slowly waking up to the tyranny of beauty—but wow, did I want to shake her every time she considered betraying the Smoke. Shay was a mood, rebellious and unpredictable, but she felt more like a plot device than a fully formed person after a while. David, our revolutionary heartthrob with a forehead as high as his moral standards, was weirdly endearing but a bit too perfect. The secondary characters—Peris, Croy, Maddy, Az—were fine, functional, but they didn’t exactly leap off the page like glam-pretties at a party. Still, the emotional arcs felt earned. Mostly. Kind of. With a few side-eyes.
The setting? A dystopian fever dream dipped in cosmetic surgery and sprayed with hoverboard glitter. New Pretty Town was every rich kid's playground on Adderall, complete with bungee jackets and parties fueled by vanity. Then you get the Rusty Ruins—equal parts haunting and heavy metal graveyard—which felt eerily plausible. And the Smoke? It was grungy, survivalist chic, where deodorant went to die. Westerfeld had me seeing it all. The juxtaposition of plastic perfection and gritty rebellion was potent. I felt the bleakness beneath the bubbly surface, and honestly, I wanted to move there and start a commune.
The prose was clean, sharp, and occasionally dipped into delightful sass—just like I like my dystopia. Westerfeld didn’t drown me in exposition, thank the hovergods, but he also didn’t always trust me to connect the dots. Some conversations got a little after-school special (cue: “But Tally, it’s about what’s inside that counts”), but his voice was strong and consistent. The dialogue struck that weird YA balance between clever and "no teenager has ever said this, ever," but I was too entertained to complain much.
Hoverboards, betrayal, underground rebellions, and a city that essentially lobotomizes you into bliss? Yes, please. The story zipped along with barely a sag in the middle (though the Smoke section occasionally felt like a group project no one was that excited about). The stakes were high and stayed high. That pendant twist? I knew it was coming, but I still gasped like a fool. The ending had just the right amount of emotional manipulation—I mean, Tally volunteering for the operation? Girl, chill—and left me flipping to the sequel teaser faster than you can say “bio-engineered orchids of doom.”
I tore through this thing like a pretty through a closet of semi-formal outfits. I had to know what was next. Who would sell out whom? Would Tally come clean? Would someone please punch Dr. Cable? I was genuinely invested in the ideological battle: become pretty and brain-dead, or stay ugly and free. It was a deliciously shallow-vs-deep metaphor that managed not to hit me over the head too often. Even the quieter moments had tension—every hoverboard escape, every whispered plan felt like a fuse waiting to blow.
This is where the seams showed. The world had rules, but they flexed a little too conveniently when the plot needed them to. Special Circumstances apparently couldn’t track a girl with a glowing pendant in the woods? Sure, Jan. And don’t get me started on the romance—Tally and David’s relationship had less chemistry than a broken Bunsen burner. “You’re beautiful because you’re not like the other girls”—cue my eyes rolling so hard they circled the globe. The social dynamics in the Smoke felt realistic-ish, though, and I appreciated how relationships shifted and fractured in believable ways.
Was it a flawless dystopian masterpiece? No. Was it a wild, compulsively readable ride that scratched my rebellious teen itch? Absolutely. It’s The Hunger Games meets Mean Girls, with a splash of Black Mirror. I laughed, I rolled my eyes, I yelled at Tally, and I had a damn good time doing it. I’d recommend Uglies in a heartbeat—especially if someone needs a reminder that beauty isn’t just skin-deep. Or if they just want to watch a society implode in high-def hoverboard chaos.
Moderate: Body shaming, Confinement, Emotional abuse, Mental illness, Physical abuse, Violence, Medical trauma, Suicide attempt, Gaslighting, Toxic friendship
Minor: Cursing, Death, Misogyny, Sexism, Death of parent, Alcohol, Injury/Injury detail, Classism
WARNING: this book ends with a cliffhanger!
I enjoyed this book and raced through it as it was easy to read. The plot is interesting - especially Westerfeld's futuristic ideas - and moves quickly, so plot points get their payoffs in a satisfactory way.
The characters were a little clichéd in the typical YA way. The main character was not likeable, but as a reader you can forgive it because she's admittedly been brainwashed her whole life, and she grows as the story goes on. However, I felt that towards the end of the novel, the main character's instincts about an event revealed them to be incredibly self-involved, regardless of the brainwashing. (I'm talking about
Yes, unfortunately there is a
I do wish that the author had delved more into the racial aspect of the eugenicist regime. It is frequently stated that, after the operation, people's eyes become bigger, their noses become smaller, and their lips more full. Wouldn't it be interesting for Tally to learn about the implications of this? Especially from a futuristic perspective. There is also a brief mention of the fact that people's skin tones get evened out, and even a moment where she thinks about how weird it was that people used to kill each other over their skin colour. I'd have just liked this to be explored a bit more. What if Tally starts to learn about her family's lineage, and discovers that she is of a certain heritage, the defining characteristics of which have been wiped out by the operation?
My biggest critique, however, is that I found it very hard to follow Westerfeld's descriptions of space, direction, and travel. I felt that, when characters' physical journeys were described (which was often), the author could have been more detailed and clear. Unfortunately, it became increasingly difficult to orientate the characters in my mind and I ended up giving up on trying to do so, ignoring the geographical comments, and just enjoying the action instead. (Neueodivergent problem?)
I'll probably be reading the sequel, because I'm interested to see where the story goes.
Graphic: Medical content, Medical trauma
Moderate: Body shaming, Fatphobia, Violence, Forced institutionalization, Death of parent
Minor: Animal death, Confinement, Death, Eating disorder, Racism, Police brutality, Grief, Colonisation, Dysphoria, War, Injury/Injury detail, Classism
Graphic: Body shaming, Classism
Moderate: Confinement, Death of parent
Minor: Death, Medical content