a shimmering of gong and tambourine, and the people went dancing, the procession was a dance. Children dodged in and out, their high calls rising like the swallows' crossing flights over the music and the singing . . . boys and girls, naked in the bright air, with mud-stained feet and ankles and long, lithe arms . . . "

The narrator, after establishing setting, then goes into explaining her perspective on the way this city functions through the lives of its citizens. The narrator is clear that the citizens are complex and passionate people living in a setting of happiness. The elements of society that often cause controversy in reality have no such effect in Omelas. She explains that she believes that the city's laws are few, but just enough to keep perfect order, that religion is in place, but not in a restrictive way, that limited technology is available because any technologies that could be destructive are not permitted, and that, although there is a drug in existence, it is rarely used by the people of the city. In short, life in Omelas is meant to be seen as ideal. This Edenic existence is truly one that the narrator tries to immerse the reader in before allowing the reader to know the "dark secret" of Omelas: the child in the basement.

Omelas is a Dystopian society masquerading as a Utopian society. Although Omelas only has one noticeable flaw, it is such an egregious flaw that the qualitative and quantitative happiness that the majority of the people experience is stained with an inexcusable sin. The people of Omelas can go on and on, pontificating about how the suffering of one justifies the wonderful happiness of all the others. But, this is a kind of bliss based on ignorance and in this case ignorance does not mean without knowledge; it means that they knowingly "ignore" the suffering of that one, unfortunate child. 

They all know it is there, all the people of Omelas. Some of them have come to see it, others are content merely to know it is there. They all know that it has to be there. Some of them understand why, and some do not, but they all understand that their happiness, the beauty of their city, the tenderness of their friendships, the health of their children, the wisdom of their scholars, the skill of their makers, even the abundance of their harvest and the kindly weathers of their skies, depend wholly on this child's abominable misery. 

Some people choose to leave Omelas rather than live in a society who's happiness depends upon the suffering of one person. The "Ones Who Walk Away" might go to a less joyous place, but they do so for ethical reasons. They leave in protest of this child's suffering. Omelas is a city full of morally irresponsible citizens. Consider this story as an allegory for the richest people in America living it up while the poorest portion suffers. Consider it as a global allegory. Some industrialized countries thrive while some developing countries are faced with political, economic, and sociological struggle. In either allegory or scenario, those who thrive and choose to ignore the less fortunate are the people who would stay in Omelas. 

One might describe the city of Omelas as exceptionally beautiful. The narrator says that it is “bright-towered,” evidently referred to the illumined beauty of the city buildings. The flags on the harbor boats “sparkle,” and the houses are capped with red roofs, made of painted walls, and in possession of mossy gardens. There are “avenues of trees” and “great parks” dotting the cityscape. There are “broad green meadows” and lots of music, along with a “cheerful faint sweetness” in the air.

The bells ring out “joyous[ly].” The horses and people alike are beautifully arrayed in robes and ribbons, children play happily, and the city is charmingly situated in a spot surrounded by wide green fields, the mountains covered with pure white-gold snow, and the sea itself. The city is beautiful as is the spot into which it is nestled by these natural features. All of the words used to describe the physical appearance of the city are quite positive.

However, we might also describe the city of Omelas as possessing a rather dark underbelly: the mandated misery of the lowly child in the closet, the child who must be kept in darkness and squalor and pain in order to secure the happiness of everyone else.

At first glance Omelas is very much a utopian society—it is not a city with all our modern trappings, but the narrator stresses that this does not mean the people of Omelas are simple. They are happy, but this does not mean they are unintelligent. The inhabitants of the city are “not less complex than us”:

They were not naive and happy children—though their children were, in fact, happy. They were mature, intelligent, passionate adults whose lives were not wretched. O miracle! but I wish I could describe it better. I wish I could convince you.

In short, life was good in Omelas. And the narrator often makes him- or herself known in his or her attempts to describe, as accurately as possible, what this foreign city based on this foreign concept of happiness was truly like. Interjections and exclamations clarify to the reader that the narrator is uncertain how to supply us with a true representation of what Omelas really is—the details of such an interesting yet joyful existence. And the narrator decides that, really, it doesn’t matter—Omelas is what we would like to imagine it to be. Omelas, on a detailed level, is an amalgam of each reader’s subjective perspective on what would make up a utopian society. The narrator says ambivalently,

“they could perfectly well have central heating, subway trains, washing machines, and all kinds of marvelous devices not yet invented here, floating light-sources, fuelless power, a cure for the common cold. Or they could have none of that: it doesn't matter. As you like it.”

And then we see the narrator creating his or her own version of Omelas before our eyes, creating a balanced, egalitarian society of free love and free religion, with harmless, non-addictive drugs available to those who desire them and beer, of course, for those who do not. And what is being emphasized here is that it doesn’t matter—the details of life in Omelas aren’t important. How the people behave, their rituals and their edifices, their trade laws and their technology—none of it matters in the face of the pure, simple fact that they are happy. That they have managed to create a society that rests on that thinnest of ledges—nondestructive and sustaining. The narrator gives us one truth amid all this varied fantasy about Omelas, and speaks with conviction when he or she says, “One thing I know there is none of in Omelas is guilt.”

This one undeniable detail happens to be one of the most important things about Omelas, because we soon learn that the people of the city, if they had cause to feel any sentiment beyond happiness, it would indeed be guilt. The society is trading the life-long misery of a single child for the happiness of the entire city. And it is not a secret. Everyone in the society is aware, and goes to see the child every once in a while—goes to see what they are trading for their improbable perfection. And those who see the injustice for what it is—these few are “the ones who walk away from Omelas.”

As the story opens, the narrator invites the reader to imagine Omelas as a beautiful, joyous place. It is filled with festivals, celebrations, and a community of well-fed, well-cared-for citizens who enjoy a peaceful, happy life. Further, the people of Omelas live in a setting that seems more like an idealized version of the Middle Ages than a modern technological society.

For example, people go to the Festival of Summer wearing long robes, banging tambourines, and dancing. We learn of master workmen, red roofs, murals painted on buildings, and horses with braided manes. However, despite the Medieval feel of Omelas, the narrator also tells us it has no armies or slaves. It has no modern ills either: no nuclear weapons, advertising, or secret police, and no polluting cars or helicopters. However, it still embraces useful technology, such as central heat, labor saving devices, and a cure for the common cold.

In short, Omelas seems wonderful place to live, a true utopia. It seems the kind of utopia a William Morris of News from Nowhere or a fantasy writer like Tolkien might dream up.

After this long prelude describing Omelas, it is all the more shocking when we discover that there is ugliness and evil at the heart of this beautiful world in the form of an abused child.

If you look down toward the very end of this short story, "The Ones Who Walk Away From Omelas" by Ursula Le Guin, you'll see where the narrator describes "one more thing to tell" which is "quite incredible." 

But before we take a look at that, remember the horrible thing from the story: that the whole city has made an agreement to keep one poor child locked up in a dark and dirty room with very little food, and no love or attention, and no sunlight. They do this because, for whatever reason, it lets the rest of them live happy lives.

The final paragraph of the story starts like this:

"At times one of the adolescent girls or boys who go to see the child does not go home to weep or rage, does not, in fact, go home at all. Sometimes also a man or woman much older falls silent for a day or two, and then leaves home."

The paragraph ends with this sentence: "But they seem to know where they are going, the ones who walk away from Omelas."

So, according to the narrator, the most incredible thing of all about the citizens of Omelas is that some of them choose to leave. Presumably they leave because they can't accept the injustice or cruelty of the Omelas way of life. The narrator is probably saying that this is incredible because, even though it's the right thing to do, walking away from your own happiness and comfort in this way takes courage, independent thought, and a willingness to venture into the unknown.

Part of Le Guin's purpose in this story is to challenge our notions of utopia. In your essay, you need to be clear about the provisional nature of LeGuin's description. On the one hand, she provides remarkable visual imagery of the town and the "Summer Festival." The procession to the Green Fields, the children and their horses, the mauve and grey robes of the old men, even the snow capped mountains that surround the town—these details all tend to describe Omelas as a place of beauty, free from conflict, full of youthful energy.

However, she soon poses questions about the believability of the scene—these were not "simple folk," but "mature, intelligent, passionate adults whose lives were not wretched." Omelas' existence as a utopia, it seems, depends on our own ability to believe in the reality of joy. If that belief requires us to imagine Omelas as a place of orgies and free love, than Le Guin encourages us to imagine that. If it means drug use, she encourages us to imagine that as well. Or, most chillingly, if our belief in utopia requires the misery of others to support greater happiness, then we should imagine that as well. In Omelas, this sacrifice comes in the form of the child locked in the broom closet. The specifics of the place are less important than the examination of the attitudes of Le Guin's reader toward utopia.

Le Guin suggests that the true utopia—a place "even less imaginable" than Omelas—is the place people escape to when they opt out of the illusion of happiness that Omelas represents.

If I wrote this paper, I think I'd focus on the fact that this is not, in fact, a true utopian society. After all, everyone's happiness depends on the suffering of one innocent child, which is far from perfect. I'd therefore structure the thesis something like this:

Although the city of Omelas seems superficially perfect, the citizens's acceptance of the suffering of one innocent child classifies it more appropriately as a dystopian society.

In the first body paragraph, you could examine all of the "perfect" things about this society. The town sits by the sea, and boats adorned with sparkling flags line the harbor. Horses's manes are "braided with streamers of silver, gold, and green," and they prance about. The people are joyous, intellectual, and passionate. The aromas of delicious cooking and the sounds of a flute fill the air. The townspeople are gathered to celebrate the Festival of Summer, a time of year symbolic of life and fullness. Perhaps most notably, this line stands out to me as a descriptor of the citizens:

They were not barbarians.

Aren't they?

I would then transition into the next body paragraph, examining the one thing upon which all this happiness rests. Each adult in town has chosen to sacrifice an innocent child in order to uphold this superficial sense of joy. Locked away from the rest of the town and kept separate from all human kindness, this child is malnourished, mistreated, and hopeless:

It is feeble-minded. Perhaps it was born defective, or perhaps it has become imbecile through fear, malnutrition, and neglect. It picks its nose and occasionally fumbles vaguely with its toes or genitals, as it sits hunched in the corner farthest from the bucket and the two mops. It is afraid of the mops. It finds them horrible. It shuts its eyes, but it knows the mops are still standing there; and the door is locked; and nobody will come. The door is always locked; and nobody ever comes, except that sometimes—the child has no understanding of time or interval—sometimes the door rattles terribly and opens, and a person, or several people, are there. One of them may come in and kick the child to make it stand up. The others never come close, but peer in at it with frightened, disgusted eyes.

The willful torture of a child negates the superficial utopia that the town enjoys. Dystopia for one is dystopia for all. There are some who walk away from this torture and from their superficially "perfect" town. Not a single citizen comes back to rescue or help this child who has been sacrificed for the "joy" of the rest of the town.

The purpose of a dystopian story is to issue a warning about potential pitfalls in society. In the conclusion, you could examine how overlooking the needs of society's most vulnerable citizens is no less tragic than what has happened to this one child locked away in Omelas.

I hope this helps with the structure of your paper. Good luck!