Specials

The results of Tally’s interventions are swift and certain: While the immediate war has ended, the new world remains in a state of flux. Different characters have different responses to the current state of affairs, as the cure circulates far and wide throughout their world, bringing about a New System of individual autonomy. These changes come quickly and decisively. First, “the City Council was letting the new regulations lapse” (322), meaning citizens have more freedom. Second, there are no further attacks on the city of Diego. As the cure takes hold in Dr. Cable, her desire for power fades, as does her ability to control others through fear and intimidation. Thus, the cities are now saved from a state of constant warfare, the daily fear of “Special Circumstances” replaced by another kind of uncertainty. The future is not predictable: “The cure was taking hold here, just as it had in Diego, and Tally wondered exactly what sort of future she had helped let loose. Were the city pretties going to start acting like Rusties now?” (323). She finally understands The Price of Losing Control; while it isn’t necessarily good or bad, with autonomy comes responsibility. People have the newfound freedom to do as they want, including seeking power for themselves or expanding unsustainably into the wild.

Tally herself has to assume responsibility for her own actions, which she does on several fronts. Both because of her care for the natural world and as penance for her participation in the harmful former government, she dedicates herself to protecting the wild alongside David. This reinforces how liberation is not an end result; it requires constant care and management to ensure that people don’t become destructive. Additionally, she notes in her manifesto that she is quitting her habit of self-harm permanently. Not only is this a sign of greater maturity, but it also represents her taking control of herself: “That was how she’d managed to rewire herself for Zane—not cutting anymore—and she couldn’t give in to weakness now” (321). She rewired her own brain back in her Pretty days, breaking through the bubbleheaded lesions, by becoming strong and independent. The cutting now feels like a remnant of weakness and her lack of self-control, something she can overcome by choosing to pursue the life she truly wants. Additionally, it fully separates her from the term “Cutter,” which represents something she no longer identifies with.

Still, Tally continues to struggle with her identity. On the one hand, when it is announced that the Specials will all be “despecialized,” Tally becomes fearful. She’s not sure who she is without her Special nature and the scars that commemorate her journey. On the other hand, Tally does not want to submit to ongoing objectification. As the city sees them, “Specials were dangerous, they were potentially psychotic, and the whole idea of a special operation was unfair” (324). If Tally remains Special, then she inescapably renders herself an outsider, someone to be feared or scorned.

Dr. Cable’s assessment of the situation does not necessarily help. While her rescue of Tally might read as redemption, it inevitably involves a deep-seated sense of self-interest and self-aggrandizement. Dr. Cable’s motivations in rescuing Tally from the despecialization surgery are not to preserve Tally’s agency but to preserve her own legacy: “‘You’re the only real Cutter left,’ Dr. Cable said. ‘The last of my Specials designed to live in the wild, to exist outside the cities. You can escape this, can disappear forever. I don’t want my work to become extinct, Tally’” (335). Tally does not want to see herself as a dangerous weapon or as Dr. Cable’s creation, either, so she exerts her independence by taking from Dr. Cable’s message what she wants. She seeks to exert her autonomy and identity through her actions, not her abilities or how she looks, thus bringing the theme of Appearances Versus Autonomy to a close.

Ultimately, Tally’s commitment to the future rests with the wild. She studies the Rusty Ruins with intention as she memorizes the destructive contours of that history. Her plan “to save the world,” as she puts it (347), requires the preservation of the wild spaces of her land. Her manifesto is not so much a declaration of her individual rights—though it is that, in part—as it is an ecological manifesto. She designates herself a protector of the wild, the place in which she first understood who she was in Uglies. Her decision to align herself most closely with the environment also reinforces the idea of Freedom and Responsibility; in this case, her personal identity is not as important to her as her responsibility to the wild is. Nobody can develop their identity in an unsustainable world, thus imparting Scott Westerfeld’s final overarching message of the novel.