This review was originally written and posted in February of 2013.

This book opens with the main character standing in front of a mirror.  Again.  Why was this not immediately chucked into the slush pile?  Anyway, it seems our main character, Tris, is from a culture where you don’t get to look at yourself in a mirror or celebrate birthdays, because both are ‘vain.’  Oh, joy, another book that wants to claim that any amount of attention paid to one’s appearance makes one a horrible person.  Which…makes this scene strange.  She’s in front of the mirror so her mother can cut her hair, but her mother doesn’t need a mirror to see her.

I think my mother could be beautiful, in a different world. Her body is thin beneath the gray robe. She has high cheekbones and long eyelashes, and when she lets her hair down at night, it hangs in waves over her shoulders.

But because she wears a robe and pins up her hair…she’s not pretty?

Also, Tris grew up in this Abnegation place, which seems to take the ‘no attention paid to self’ thing to ridiculous extremes.  So why does she care if her mom is pretty or not?  Why is this even a thing that enters her mind?  Why does physical appearance, beauty, or the lack thereof even register for her?  Why can’t she think that her mom is awesome or not based on the values held dear by her society, instead of defaulting once again to the whole “beauty = goodness” shit?

He also inherited my mother’s talent for selflessness. He gave his seat to a surly Candor man on the bus without a second thought.

*sigh*  We live in a world where giving up your seat on the bus is ‘selfless’ instead of ‘just plain old good manners.’  No, not their world, our world.  This author thinks that this example will tell her real-world readers what an upstanding guy Tris’s brother is.  That’s sad.

The Candor man wears a black suit with a white tie—Candor standard uniform. Their faction values honesty and sees the truth as black and white, so that is what they wear.

Huh.  So…they’re more stupid than honest, then?  Because someone really, really dedicated to honesty would know better than anyone else that nothing is all that simple.

Five years ago, volunteer construction workers from Abnegation repaved some of the roads. They started in the middle of the city and worked their way outward until they ran out of materials.

Um, this is sort of a big deal and I’d like to hear more about it.  Why did they run out of materials?  How far did they get?  Why can’t they get more?  Is that all the road-paving materials they’ll ever get?  Is this a resources problem, an administrative problem, a financial problem?  What, exactly, is stopping you people from paving the rest of the roads?  Is this a dystopia because you just don’t have stuff, or because you’re too stupid to figure out how to make asphalt?

So Tris and her bother Caleb go to school, and during the second half of the day they’ll have aptitude tests that will show them where they should be in their adult lives.  Happily, the tests are just for educational purposes; the kids still get free choice.  I actually like that set-up.  It’s sort of best-of-both-options. 

And yet, Tris seems to be angsting about what the tests will show her.  While it’s entirely possible to stress over a test, it seems odd in this case, because we don’t know why she’s doing it.  We don’t have context for her angst, because the only possible consequence of the test is something that doesn’t matter anyway; she still gets to chose her faction at the end.  What does Tris think will happen?  That she’ll be ridiculed for being placed in the ‘wrong’ faction?  That she’ll be tempted?  That she’ll be pressured into choosing a certain way?  All are valid options, but we don’t know which to go with!

Seems there’s been some bullying in her school directed at her faction, and Tris gets shoved around a bit in the halls.  Tuck that tidbit away for later; I get the feeling it’ll be useful.

I pause by a window in the E Wing and wait for the Dauntless to arrive. I do this every morning. At exactly 7:25, the Dauntless prove their bravery by jumping from a moving train.

Uh…I guess that’s brave.  Technically.  It’s also pretty fucking stupid.  It’s said that Dauntless’s task is security, but in that case, “bravery” isn’t really the best option, unless you temper it with “intelligence” and “integrity.”  Because a security force full of people with broken legs and bashed in heads isn’t going to protect you from jack shit.

In fact, I think “selfless service” would fit an armed forces group better than “bravery.”  You want people willing to jump in front of a bullet for common citizens, not people willing to jump off a train for no fucking reason at all.  When you give guns to people who are trying to show off their idiotic bravery, they don’t do responsible things; they play Russian Roulette.

So the Dauntless kids show up in a blaze of ‘glory’ and Tris goes on to her class and that’s the end of chapter one.

By the way, we don’t really know Tris’s name yet.  I got it off the summary, but it hasn’t been mentioned in the text.  That’s taking ‘selflessness’ a bit far, book.  In fact…there’s been very little dialogue or character interaction at all so far.  Tris gets a haircut, rides a bus to school, and walks down the hall, all while giving us some vague details about her world.  That’s it.  That’s the opening to our book.  It’s neither action-packed nor especially illuminating.  It’s just…so very underwhelming and dull.

Also, these chapters are pretty short.  I’ll probably end up combining a few per post in the future.