Specials

“Regular Specials in their lame hovercars could only move fast in a straight line. But Cutters were special Specials: every bit as mobile as the Smokies, and every bit as crazy.”

Not only is Tally a Special, but she is an even more enhanced version of a Special, both in physical ability and mental manipulation. The Cutters are designed to be fearless, ferocious, and fast. This mindset contributes to Tally’s early belief that she is better than other people, a superiority complex that interferes with her existing relationships.

“Her mind was clear, Special-clear, untangled from wild, ugly emotions and bubbleheadedness, fully realizing the truth of what the Smokies were. They weren’t revolutionaries; they were nothing but egomaniacs, playing with lives, leaving broken people in their wake.”

Tally’s programming has convinced her that the Smokies, who oppose the city’s authoritarian rule and surgically enforced social stratification, are a threat to order and safety. Her views are also the result of what happened to Zane: taking an early version of the cure damaged Zane’s nervous system. The dramatic irony in Tally’s situation is that, while she no longer has the brain lesions of Pretties that result in “bubbleheadedness,” she is still subject to propaganda. She has adopted the social hierarchy impressed upon her by Dr. Cable, and her feelings of clarity are symptoms of conformity.

“New Pretty Town was lit with colorful explosions in the sky, just like every other night. Tethered hot air balloons floated above the party spires, and gas torches lit the pleasure gardens, like bright snakes ascending the island’s sloping sides. The tallest buildings cast jittering shadows in the fireworks’ momentary light, reshaping the city’s silhouette with every burst.”

This faux revelry marks the emptiness of the “bubbleheaded” Pretty existence: Life is merely a party. These distractions keep the populace docile and complacent. With parties every day and celebrations every night, the Pretties have no time or energy to question the futility of their lives or the control under which they submit.

“But suddenly she wished she could explain how the Cutters were different, not like the regular Specials who’d pushed him around when he was an ugly. The Cutters played by their own rules. They’d found everything that Zane had always wanted—living in the wild outside the city’s dictates, their minds icy, free from the imperfections of ugliness.”

Tally attempts to justify the Cutters’ way of life, which sidesteps the fact that they are not truly free despite their apparent independence. Rather, they are brainwashed and controlled by Dr. Cable and deployed to maintain the status quo. In addition, their programming insists that they are superior; they abhor imperfection and thus dismiss human weakness. This brings up the theme of Appearances Versus Autonomy, as Tally believes she is willingly appreciating the value of beauty, but she is parroting the words of those who control her.

“Tally tried to imagine kissing his childlike lips, stroking his shaking hands, and the thought disgusted her.”

Tally’s repulsion toward Zane is the result of this programming: She can only perceive his vulnerabilities and imperfections, which offend her Special sensibilities. This kind of thinking does not inspire the Specials to protect the average citizen, but rather to scorn them and to justify their control over them through fear and intimidation. It fosters prejudice, something that Tally quickly recognizes and regrets, even as her disgust with Zane’s weakness remains.

“The scar cut straight across her flash tattoos, breaking the dermal circuitry that made them dance. Her palm was a jittering mess of lines, like a computer screen after a hard crash.”

Tally slashing her hand to signify her commitment to Zane symbolizes the first fracture between Tally and the Cutters (and, by extension, Dr. Cable). She disrupts the flash tattoos that mark her as a Special and brand her as Dr. Cable’s creature. The “jittering mess of lines” indicates Tally’s confusion, as her loyalty begins to shift and her thinking clears.

“Maybe this was going to be easy. It had been two centuries since there had been any serious conflict among the cities—no one really believed that humanity would ever go to war again. Besides, the Armory’s automatic defenses were designed to repel a major attack, not a couple of burglars looking to borrow a handheld tool.”

This represents the disordered and arrogant thinking typical of the modified Specials. Both Shay and Tally consider themselves above the law and capable of anything. It also foreshadows the later attack on Diego wherein humanity does indeed return to warfare. Their passivity regarding the notion of conflict highlights an ignorance about the societal circumstances that lead to it—Tally can’t see that the system she is in is fully capable of reigniting wars.

“If the silver goo was the sort of stuff the Armory kept in its museum, what were the ‘serious’ weapons stored deep underground like? Of course, destroying one building wasn’t much by Rusty standards. They’d killed whole cities with a single bomb, sickened generations with radioactivity and poisons. Next to that, the silver stuff really was a museum piece.”

Again, this foreshadows the later attacks on Diego, during which several buildings are damaged and the Town Hall is destroyed. Tally’s question reveals much about the city’s authorities and their potential intentions: While speaking against war, they have made sure to keep weapons of mass destruction. It also acts as a metafictional jab about the barbarity of the Rusties, or the current civilization in which Specials was published, whose desire for resources and power led to war, death, and devastation.

“‘You can rewire yourself again, Tally,’ he said. ‘The fact that they made you into a Special means you can change.’”

Zane reminds Tally that she successfully broke through the brain lesions that once made her a bubblehead during her Pretty days—all under her own power. He also emphasizes during the conversation that, in resisting the modifications to her brain, she can legitimately choose which side she wishes to fight for. It is no longer Appearances Versus Autonomy; she can have the body of a Special but act in her own interests. The idea that she can choose sides indicates that autonomous choice is indeed possible.

“The spot where the Crims had stood was marked by a swarm of footprints. The smell of an unwashed human lingered in the air, someone who had been days or longer without a bath. That couldn’t be one of the Crims, who’d smelled like recyclable clothes and nervousness.”

Tally and the Cutters track their group through scent, like a pack of animals preying on victims. This motif runs throughout the book, as the Cutters use their heightened senses to follow their targets and behave as one. The Cutters are akin to Dr. Cable’s ferocious pets. It is also a dehumanizing way of describing other people, which represents how the Specials see others lower than them in the social hierarchy.

“That was the first lesson everyone got out in the wild: Nothing could be trusted, not even your own dinner. It wasn’t like the city, where every sharp corner had been rounded off, every balcony equipped with a resistance field in case you fell, and where the food never came boiling hot.”

Tally observes the runaways trying to make dinner over the fire and notices how easily they burn themselves. The city is juxtaposed against the wild: The city represents a cosseted life, a nanny state wherein all needs are taken care of. The wild, on the other hand, is unpredictable and often dangerous. This alludes to the idea of Freedom and Responsibility, as the free will to build a life outside government control also requires more care and caution within the dangerous, unmonitored natural world.

“Ever since Dr. Cable had recruited her, other people had made most of Tally’s choices for her. Someone was always forcing her to join their side in the conflict between the Smokies and the city.”

Tally’s struggles to achieve independence epitomize the traditional coming-of-age story. As children mature into adulthood, their choices are often thwarted by those in authority. Maturity must be earned, as Tally gradually learns, and autonomy requires personal responsibility.

“The memory of it made her want to cut herself, to tear at her own flesh until she became something different inside. Something less special, more human. But she didn’t want to go back to cutting after telling Zane she stopped. It would be like breaking a promise to him.”

Tally expresses how deeply related her scars and general appearance are tied to her sense of identity. Being a Special made her feel better only in a shallow way, but she didn’t feel like a person. Now, Tally’s habit of self-harm, encouraged by the group practices of the Cutters, has been relinquished in favor of self-realization. Though instigated by her promise to Zane, the practice has lost its appeal as she begins to rediscover herself and her own agency. She can become more human simply by expressing empathy and feeling connection.

“The rangers, Tally remembered, came from a city with different attitudes from her own, one that didn’t particularly care whether the Smoke existed or not. Their main concern was preserving nature from the engineered plagues the Rusties had left behind, especially the white weed. The rangers had traded favors with the Old Smoke sometimes, giving runaways lifts in their flying machines.”

Contrary to the impression given by the city authorities, there are many different ways to govern a society, as well as many different creeds to follow. While Tally’s city is committed to authoritarian control, Diego is committed to freedom of expression, and the rangers are dedicated to preserving the wild. It appears as if Tally’s city might be outnumbered, given that the other examples—from the Smokies to the runaways to the rangers—all yearn for freedom.

“Tally blinked. No wonder the Diego government had been sympathetic to the Smoke. A little colony of freethinkers wouldn’t seem threatening at all.”

Though Tally is aware that there are different systems of governance, she is still somewhat stunned at how tolerant Diego’s society seems to be. Diego is a natural ally to the Smokies, with its lax regulations on appearance and lesser commitment to brain alteration. Even their teachers, Fausto tells Tally, are not given the bubblehead modification. This demonstrates that her perspective is colored by her upbringing, even as she rewires her programmed brain.

“Tally, you may not be aware of what has been done to your mind. It may seem natural for you to cut yourself.”

The ways in which Tally has been surgically altered and psychologically indoctrinated can be seen as a form of abuse—which, in turn, legitimates the practice of self-harm. In addition, by sanctioning the use of the name “Cutters” to describe and unify the group, Dr. Cable also authorizes the practice. In this case, it is essential for someone to point out how harmful this is and reassure her that this is an encouraged behavior rather than an innate one.

“The hospital hadn’t been hit, not yet anyway, but crowds of terrified people were still spilling from its doors. The armada didn’t have to shoot anyone for people to wind up dead tonight—panic and chaos would do the killing.”

Tally immediately realizes that, in the chaos of war, innocent victims are often the first casualties. This kind of “panic and chaos” indicates The Price of Losing Control, though not in the way she initially assumes. She believes throughout the first half of the novel that control should be within the hands of the government, as chaos is the natural consequence of a loss of power. Instead, the government has lost control of itself; her city’s actions are unconscionable, and the panic facilitates the usurpation of power by the defending authorities in turn. It furthers the cycle of retaliation that often marks war.

“This was all her fault. She’d coaxed him here to become what she wanted; she had wandered around the city instead of watching over him; she had started the war that had torn him apart.

This was the final price of her massive ego.”

Tally blames herself for Zane’s death. In its aftermath, she endeavors to sublimate her ego—enhanced by her transformation into a Special—in order to take responsibility and to stop the war. It is a transformation of her understanding of Appearances Versus Autonomy, as she realizes that Zane’s desire to stay at home, recover, and remain a weakened Pretty was more important than a quest to become a physically enhanced Special. She is determined to completely abandon the imposition of her will on others, though the final chapter in the book is devoted to her first-person manifesto, an expression of her fiercely independent will.

“She wondered what would become of all the runaways still making their way across the wild. Could Diego still spare its meager fleet of helicopters to bring them in? How many more citizens could the New System handle, now that it was fighting for its own existence?”

As Tally matures, she begins to think more of others than of herself or those closest to her. Her ability to express compassion and to feel humility lends her strength, a much different kind from that gained by her Special surgery. This empathy enables her to overcome her loyalty to her city’s government and confront Dr. Cable.

“‘Maybe. But if you can dispel that fear here, every city in the world will start paying attention.’ He took her hand. ‘You aren’t just stopping the war, Tally. You’re about to fix everything.’”

Tally thinks that her attack on the Armory and the subsequent war has sown fear into her city, fear that Dr. Cable will exploit. David tries to correct her: What she has unleashed is the widespread embrace of independence and the unstoppable expression of freedom. The war is a momentary symptom of the more permanent, and positive, changes to come. Tally becomes a reluctant hero, bolstered by the confidence that David imparts in her.

“The other cities were just waiting for someone to take Diego down, with their New System and their flouting of morphological standards. You simply provided me with ammunition. You’ve always been so useful, Tally.”

Dr. Cable taunts Tally as she confronts her for the final time. Tally is again objectified, a useful soldier dutifully conducting Dr. Cable’s business. She has been a pawn in the doctor’s war games, whether it be against the Smokies or the city of Diego. This emphasizes The Price of Losing Control, as citizens have completely lost control of their government, resulting in bids for power and unnecessary conflict.

“She was trapped now, immobilized, and the city could take its final revenge on her: grinding down her bones to reduce her to average pretty height; cutting the harsh angles from her cheeks; stripping out the beautiful muscles and bones, the chips in her jaw and hands, her lethal fingernails; replacing her black and perfect eyes. Making her a bubblehead again.”

The city is personified here: It is not just Dr. Cable enacting her revenge, but the entire city that wants to despecialize Tally. In this conformist society, she does not belong, and they want to render her average and afraid by again controlling her appearance. Unlike the beginning of the novel, wherein Tally’s body made her feel like part of a group, she has now come to identify with it on a personal level. The potential to have her appearance changed demonstrates how her government will change people as needed—even reversing their own prior surgeries—to maintain control over them.

“Tally blinked. She’d never thought of herself as some sort of endangered animal. But she wasn’t about to argue. The thought of freedom made her head spin.”

Dr. Cable considers Tally and the other Cutters among her greatest creations, and she does not wish to see them become extinct. Tally is struck by the simile that she is like an “endangered animal,” yet Dr. Cable has turned all of her Specials into ferocious, but obedient, packs. Tally’s instantaneous acceptance so long as she can escape represents the way in which people can sometimes seek freedom without fully understanding their circumstances.