A dystopic read seemingly aimed at the younger side of Middle-Grade, The City Of Ember is told from an alternating dual point of view--through the eyes of 12-year-old Lina and Doon. 
 The premise is unique and easy to appreciate. It will be obvious to most readers early on that the city our hero and heroine live in is essentially a glorified bomb shelter. But strangely, none of its residents are aware of this. They have been taught from birth that Ember is all there is--a small, self-contained refuge surrounded by endless darkness. 
 Ember, in many respects, is a city frozen in time. In other respects, it is a city decaying so slowly its residents have gradually adapted to shortages and systemic breakdown. There have been no apparent innovations or advancements in the 200+ years of its existence, and none are encouraged. Its residents receive nothing beyond a 6th-grade education--after which they are apprenticed out to jobs (chosen by random lottery rather than to anything they have an interest in or knack for.) 
 The sociological commentary seems to be: 
 Insular Degradation / Death by Isolation 
 The prose is simplistic and the pacing is fairly languid. The content is clean, without any materials that could be considered particularly distressing. For a dystopian, it is certainly less traumatically memorable and weighty than works like The Giver or Children of the Dust. I could see this being a particularly good pick for younger and more sensitive readers. 
 Doon's recurring battle with his temper is a well-threaded aspect--offering realistic cause-and-effect to not restraining one's anger without falling into preachy territory. His visions of glory and honor from his father and the city's people is also a conflict-propellant that serves as a relatable flaw. Lina is a bit more dull as a character; more easily accepting of her fate and surroundings, yet endearingly attached to both her toddler sister and her forgetful Grandmother. 
 The biggest drawback for this reader was the general lack of emotional depth. Lina's parents have died within the last few years, but she hardly seems to think of them. When further grief strikes her life, her grieving process is barely touched on. Doon lives with a sensible and somewhat fleshed-out father, but his mother is a blank space that doesn't seem to affect him. And the City itself is filled with too-simple caricatures. 
 There are some points when actions, dialogue and/or descriptions come off as redundant. And for this reader, the ultimate reasoning for all of Ember's long-enforced ignorance felt flimsy and unsatisfying. (But while adult readers may have more trouble suspending disbelief, it doesn't appear to be an enjoyment-impairing problem for the book's target audience.)