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orionmerlin 's review for:
Uglies
by Scott Westerfeld
adventurous
dark
emotional
mysterious
tense
fast-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
A mix
Strong character development:
Complicated
Loveable characters:
Complicated
Diverse cast of characters:
No
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
Characters – 7/10
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.
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.
Atmosphere / Setting – 9/10
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 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.
Writing Style – 8/10
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.
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.
Plot – 8/10
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.”
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.”
Intrigue – 9/10
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.
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.
Logic / Relationships – 6/10
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.
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.
Enjoyment – 8/10
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.
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.
Final verdict: Uglies is messy, sparkly, and deeply cynical—and I kind of loved it for all the ways it tried to be more than just a pretty face.
Content Warnings
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
Uglies revolves heavily around themes of societal control through appearance, and the emotional manipulation that comes with enforced beauty standards. There’s a pervasive undercurrent of psychological conditioning and loss of autonomy, especially regarding bodily agency and mental manipulation. While there are no graphically violent scenes, the implications of the surgery and the dehumanizing aspects of the society are deeply unsettling. The book also includes brief references to suicide attempts framed as accidents, which may be upsetting to some.