Specials

Throughout the novel, the wild functions as a kind of foil to the city: In the wild, the Smokies and others value their individual freedom rather than follow the rules of a conformist society. Tally’s head clears in this environment, and she begins to abide by her own conscience rather than mindless duty. Respecting the land dictates the ways in which each group operates, and technology, social stratification, and authoritarian control give way to environmental dominion and natural beauty. As such, nature trumps human intervention in this setting. Its positivity thus presents it as something to be protected, imposing a responsibility on those who would appreciate its uses.

Tally’s connection with the wild is crucial throughout the book series. In this novel, Tally “feel[s] less special” out in the wild (172). Though this is not always a comfortable feeling—she misses the connection to the other Cutters, initially—it does signify a change in her superior attitude: “In all its glorious detail, the natural world seemed big enough to swallow her” (172). All of her special enhancements, physical surgeries and mental modifications alike, wither in the face of the unpredictability and vastness of the wild. Traveling through nature also disconnects Tally from the propaganda of the city, as Zane points out: “Zane was right—the wild was changing her again. Every time she crossed the wilderness alone, the beliefs the city had instilled in her were shaken up” (177). This disrupts Tally’s understanding of her own identity, but it eventually leads her to her own, freely chosen, destiny. By strictly connecting her character development to the wild, Scott Westerfeld creates a significant theme about the inherent value of nature.

Protecting the environment is a plot device as well as a theme, something that guides the actions of governments as well as the protagonist. Tally’s concern about the preservation of the wild derives in part from the lessons she is taught in her city about ecological conservation. She is disturbed to find that Diego, which she first believes is the New Smoke, is building beyond its established borders: “Although the forest was still dense, a few rectangular fields came into view, the trees chopped down and stacked to make way for some sort of building project. […] Tally frowned. The New Smoke was crazy if they thought they could get away with clear-cutting” (201). The cities have an implicit agreement not to encroach upon the wild, hard-won lessons from the destructive example of the Rusties centuries earlier. Westerfeld makes clear that the “Rusties” are his modern-day audience, so this device works as a metanarrative means of communicating how dangerous contemporary society is to the environment.

This restriction of the city’s growth seems at odds with the quest for freedom and autonomy present throughout the story, but it is meant to demonstrate how personal freedom isn’t more important than the world in which people live. Later, as the cure spreads throughout the cities, Tally worries about its impact on the wild: “Were the city pretties going to start acting like Rusties now? Spreading across the wild, overpopulating the earth, leveling everything in their path?” (323). Eventually, this concern becomes Tally’s guiding principle: to remember those lessons of history in order not to repeat them. This is why she pauses so long outside her city, memorizing the contours of the Rusty ruins, so she will never be able to forget the ecological crimes of her ancestors. As she writes in her manifesto of her and David’s plans, “Whenever you push too far into the wild, we’ll be here waiting, ready to push back” (350). Tally is unwilling to relinquish the beauty and the power of the wild for the sake of the cities. She will take responsibility for its preservation.