The Giver by Lois Lowry
As dystopias go, things could certainly be worse. Sure, you get a lifelong career foisted upon you at the tender age of twelve, and colors don’t exist, and occasionally babies are poisoned and dumped in the trash.
The good news: you would probably survive this. In all likelihood, you do not have the strength of character to rebel against such a rigid establishment or to be chosen as the Receiver of Memory, and thus would never need know that life is actually a technicolor tragedy. This is kind of a bummer, philosophically speaking, but at least you’ll never know about things like pain or death or humidity. Score.