Silver Elite

When Dystopia Becomes Just Aesthetic (And Nothing Else)

aka: I Tried.I Regret Everything.

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I really tried.

I really did.

I DNF’d this twice. On the third attempt, I forced myself to finish it — not out of hope, but out of pure spite and the need to form a solid opinion. And now that I have?

I'm confused, weirded out, and, frankly, just tired. 🫠

Let’s break this down.

📖 The Writing

Flat. Bland. The literary equivalent of plain white rice with no salt. For a book hyped up this much — with publishing buzz and promotional glitz — I expected something with flavor. Instead, I got the kind of prose that makes your eyes glaze over mid-sentence.

The dialogue? Repetitive, chaotic, and somehow both dramatic and hollow. Nobody had a unique voice. The characters all blended together into one big amorphous blob of teen angst — which would be fine if this wasn’t supposed to be adult dystopia.

🤷The Characters

Remember how in dystopian fiction you're supposed to connect with the characters’ struggle, feel the tension, question their choices?

Yeah. None of that here.

What we got instead was a cast of annoying archetypes and paper-thin personalities. The main character, Wren, had potential... until she opened her mouth. And stayed inside her own head. And then started thirsting over her oppressor like she was auditioning for The Bachelor: Dystopian Edition.

🌍 The World-Building

Ever been slapped with an info-dump so intense it made your eyes twitch? That’s the kind of world-building we’re talking about. All tell, no show. The "rebellion" is name-dropped like an Instagram hashtag but has all the impact of a wet sock. Oppression is mentioned, not explored. The state’s propaganda? Glossed over. Discrimination? Tossed in for spice, never cooked.

This dystopia didn’t challenge anything. It was just a vague, cardboard backdrop. You could replace the setting with any other genre and lose nothing. Except, maybe, the illusion that this was ever meant to be taken seriously.

🔥 The Smut (And the Mess That Came With It)

Now listen. I love a good enemies-to-lovers arc. I love tension. But this? This wasn’t tension. It was a girl drooling over her literal captor without an ounce of political awareness or emotional conflict. Zero introspection. Zero depth. Just… vibes and jawlines. 🫣

The spice itself? Mid. But the real issue was how it derailed the plot every single time. No meaningful discussion, no challenge of power dynamics. Just "let’s ignore the dystopia and focus on how hot he looks in black."

🧠 The “Message” (Or Lack Thereof)

Dystopian fiction is supposed to reflect, provoke, sting. It’s meant to confront societal collapse, systemic oppression, the big, terrifying "what ifs" of our world. It should be uncomfortable.

Instead, what I read felt like TikTok tropes thrown into a blender with a dystopian label slapped on top. No emotional stakes. No political critique. Just a thirst trap in cosplay.

This book isn’t dystopia. It’s a Pinterest aesthetic pretending to be deep. And I want my hours back.

If you’re looking for spicy fluff with zero substance, go ahead. If you're craving real dystopia that punches you in the gut and makes you think? Run. 🏃‍♀️

I need a nap. And a better book.

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Amazon:Silver Elite