Review: Uglier by Kelly Vincent

In Uglier, Kelly Vincent captures the poignant journey of Nic Summers, a 16-year-old artist who dares to navigate the tumultuous waters of identity and acceptance in a new environment. As the second installment in Vincent’s powerful YA series, the novel not only continues the narrative of growth and self-discovery, but also deepens the exploration of pressing social issues faced by those who defy traditional gender norms.

Vincent’s protagonist, Nic, leaves the stifling confines of a small town in Oklahoma for a seemingly progressive private academy in suburban Oklahoma City. Nic’s expectations soar as she yearns for artistic growth and an understanding community where her gender nonconformity might be fully embraced, rather than scorned as explored in the evocative first installment Ugly.

The strengths of Uglier, as with its predecessor, lie in its unflinching depiction of the challenges faced by gender nonconforming youth, but this installment takes a broader view of the subject, as Nic’s personal views also broaden. Here, the narrative has a stronger emphasis on current socio-political tensions, from anti-trans legislation to cultural biases entrenched in “red state training,” for a searing depiction of the harsh realities of prejudice – even in settings that promise inclusivity. Throughout, we are given a grim reminder of persistent societal hurdles, grounding Nic’s personal struggles in a broader, painfully realistic context.

The narrative thrives through its honest and intimate first-person point of view, laying bare Nic’s vulnerabilities and innermost thoughts, making her battles and victories feel immediately visceral and resonant. The introduction of characters such as the empathetic art teacher and Nic’s group of friends adds layers of support and complexity to the story, while Nic’s crush on Mack, a mysterious boy at school, provides a nuanced look into the anxieties and thrills of young love under the shadow of societal judgment.

However, while Uglier succeeds in expanding the first book’s focus through a varied list of new characters, it occasionally suffers from uneven pacing. The first half of the book, rich with character introductions and descriptions of Nic’s new setting, contrasts with a second half that rapidly escalates conflicts and resolutions without proper build-up. This swift pacing could leave readers wishing for more moments of reflection or deeper dives into the complexity of these moments. Moreover, while Vincent’s portrayal of adversity is compelling and necessary, there are times when the narrative might benefit from greater subtlety in its message. Occasionally, the exposition of societal issues feels too blunt without weaving them seamlessly into the story, seeming more nonfictional than allowing the reader to infer the gravity of the situation through Nic’s personal experiences.

Still, there is no doubt a certain bluntness to how teenagers see the world, so this is in some way reflective of Nic and her peers, and the book resonates with authenticity and emotional depth, tackling tough issues through the lens of a relatable protagonist. A critical addition to YA literature on gender identity, Uglier is commendable for fostering increased empathy and understanding, and offering a beacon for young readers navigating the turbulent landscape of identity and acceptance.