Firing Synapses in the Shifting

¶ … firing synapses in the shifting realm of a reader's imagination? At least that is the question Ursula K. Le Guin poses in her short story "The Ones Who Walk Away from Omelas." The thesis of the brief essay is to examine ways in which the narrator of the story compels the reader to help create the setting in his/her own mind.

The narrator of the story describes the setting first in terms of the quixotic prose fables and parables are spawned from, red roofs and painted walls, sparkling flags and soaring swallows and then, in the tradition of post-modernism, the narrator becomes self-conscious and addresses the reader in a way to suggest a kinship or bond, followed by an admission of the narrator's limited faculties and inability to describe Omelas in a way that is true to form while still remaining believable, "How can I tell you about the people of Omelas" (Le Guin 254).

This is not poor writing; rather this style is deliberate. Le Guin's narrator is not simply trying to tell a story, the narrator is trying to directly engage the reader, to sell the reader the idea that this world, Omelas, is as much of a creation of the narrator's mind as it is the reader's. Call it audience participation, "I fear that Omelas so far strikes some of you as goody-goody. Smiles, bells, parades, horses, bleh. If so, please add an orgy. If an orgy would help, don't hesitate." (Le Guin 255).

Not only is this passage extremely funny, it's extremely effective at getting the reader to construct Omelas in his/her own mind. If the reader is unhappy with the setting the narrator has described, then the reader can add, not just a character, but also the salacious exploits of a full-fledged orgy. Well, not quite, the narrator does issue several orgy stipulations and constraints, "Let us not, however, have the temples from which issue beautiful nude priests and priestesses already half in ecstasy and ready to copulate with any man or woman, lover or stranger…" (Le Guin 255).

The point is the setting to this story comes alive in the reader's mind because of its participatory nature. All the details are not there; it's up to the reader to invoke his/her own muse to help fill in the missing details.

Now, while the setting may be in a constant state of flux (between the details the reader creates and the details the narrator gives the reader), there are certain aspects of the story that are concrete and critical to what Le Guin is asking the reader to do. One of those constants within this story is the caged boy mired in his on filth. Another is the almost shameless resignation the townsfolk have regarding the poor boy. These two points are integral to some of the philosophical questions the story posits, is the undeserved and intense suffering of one justified if it ensures the happiness of many? In what ways does our own reality reflect this dilemma? The ones that leave Omelas, why are they headed to an indescribable place?

To answer this questions completely would take pages and pages of text and prose and, intertextual analysis from many different authors and philosophers (James, Dostoyevsky, Le Guin, Kant, Locke, Mills, etc.). But in lieu of all the academic work required to fully answer those questions, let me conclude with one interpretation that comes to mind, the notion that we are all cracked vessels, we all live with a certain understanding that while we enjoy our lives there is someone, somewhere, needlessly suffering. And our plight in life is not so much a matter of self-determinism and hard work as it is a matter of the casual indifference of luck and misfortune. We're not any different than the boy in the cellar. We're just luckier. Lastly, one can leave this world if they want, just like one can leave Omelas, but then again, why would one want to? There are no guarantees about the afterlife.