“Clockwork Orange” Burgess in brief summary
Before you, blin, is nothing like a society of the future, and your humble narrator, shorty Alex, will now tell you in what kal he is here vliapalsia.
We sat, as always, in the milk bar “Korova”, where the milk is served plus, we also call it “milk with knives”, that is, add any seduxen, codeine, bellarmine and get v kaif. All of our code in this outfit, as all the maltchiki wore then: black pants in the headband with a metal cup sewn into the groin to protect themselves know what, a jacket with overhead shoulders, a white bow tie and heavy govnodavy to kick. Kisy all then wore colored wigs, long black dresses with a cutout, and grudi all in badges. Well, and we said, of course, in your own way, you yourself hear how with all sorts of words there, Russian, or something. That evening, when they were stalled, first they met one starikashku near the library and made him a good toltchok, and his books were all started in razdrai. Then did krasting in one shop,
The next day I was alone, and time spent very kliovo. On his favorite stereo listened to great music – well, there Haydn, Mozart, Bach. Other maltchild do not understand this, they are dark: they listen to popsu – all there are holes-dust-holes-holes-pyras. And I’m bald with real music, especially, blin, when Ludwig van sounds, well, for example, “Ode to Joy.” I then feel such power, as if I am God himself, and I want to cut the whole world into pieces with my razor, and that the scarlet fountains fill everything around. That day still oblomiloss. Dragged two kismaloletok and finished them under my favorite music.
And on the third day suddenly everything was covered by s kontzami. Went to take silver from one old kotcheryzhki. She made a noise,
And then worse. The old kotcheryzhka died, moreover in the zamochili chamber of one, and answer me. So I sat down for many years as incorrigible, although I was only fifteen myself.
Horror as I wanted to get out of this kala. The second time I would have been more careful, and I have to count with someone. I even made a mess with the prison priest, but he kept on talking, blin, about some kind of free will, about moral choice, about the human principle, finding himself in communion with God and every such kal. Well, and then some great boss allowed an experiment on medical correction of the incorrigible. The course of treatment is two weeks, and you go to freedom corrected! The prison fistula wanted to talk me out, but where was he going? They began to treat me according to the method of Dr. Brodsky. We fed well, but we pricked some, blin, vaccine of Louis and drove to special movie shows. And it was terrible, just awful! Hell of some kind. Showed everything that I liked before: drasting, krasting, sunn-vynn with girls and in general all sorts of violence and horrors. And from their vaccine at the sight of this, I had such nausea, such cramps and pains in my stomach that I would not have looked at. But they forcibly forced, tied to a chair, fixed their heads, opened their eyes with spacers and even wiped tears as they filled their eyes. And the most abomination – at the same time included my favorite music, because, you see, from it my sensitivity increased and the correct reflexes were produced more quickly. And two weeks later it became so that without any vaccine, from the thought of violence alone, everything was hurting and vomiting, and I had to be kind to feel normal. Then they let me out, they did not deceive me. eyes opened with spacers and even tears wiped when they filled their eyes. And the most abomination – at the same time included my favorite music, because, you see, from it my sensitivity increased and the correct reflexes were produced more quickly. And two weeks later it became so that without any vaccine, from the thought of violence alone, everything was hurting and vomiting, and I had to be kind to feel normal. Then they let me out, they did not deceive me. eyes opened with spacers and even tears wiped when they filled their eyes. And the most abomination – at the same time included my favorite music, because, you see, from it my sensitivity increased and the correct reflexes were produced more quickly. And two weeks later it became so that without any vaccine, from the thought of violence alone, everything was hurting and vomiting, and I had to be kind to feel normal. Then they let me out, they did not deceive me. and I had to be kind to feel normal. Then they let me out, they did not deceive me. and I had to be kind to feel normal. Then they let me out, they did not deceive me.
And on the loose, I felt worse than in prison. Beat me all to whom it only comes to mind: both my former victims, and cops, and my former friends, and I could not answer anyone, since at the slightest such intention I became sick. But the most disgusting thing is again that I could not listen to my music. It’s just a nightmare that started from some Mendelssohn, not to mention Johann Sebastian or Ludwig van! The head was torn in pieces with pain.
When I was really sick, one muzhik picked me up. He explained to me what they did to me, blin, did. They deprived me of free will, turned man from a man to a clockwork orange! And now we must fight for freedom and human rights against state violence, against totalitarianism and every such kal. And then, it must be the same, it was just the same hmyr, to which we then fell down with the operation “Uninvited guest”. Kisa it, it turns out, after that died, and he slightly moved his mind. Well, in general, it was due to this from him to do nogi. But his drugany, also some human rights activists, led me somewhere and locked up there, so that I would rest and calm down. And then, from behind the wall, I heard music, just my own, and so it became bad for me: I’m dying, and I can not escape-locked. In general, priperlo, and I’m in the window from the seventh floor…
I woke up at the hospital, and when they cured me, it turned out that the whole factory for Dr. Brodsky was over by this blow. And again I can and drasting, and krasting, and sunn rynn to do and, most importantly, listen to Ludwig Wang’s music and enjoy my power and I can put any blood under this music. I began again to drink “milk with knives” and walk with maltchikami, as expected. Wore then already have such wide trousers, leather jackets and neck scarves, but on the feet are still govnodavy. But just a short time I this time with them shustril. Boringly something became to me and even like as again it is sickening. And suddenly I realized that I now just want another: that my house was that my wife was waiting at home to have a baby…
And I realized that youth, even the most terrible, passes, and, blin, by itself, and man, even the most zutkii, still remains a man. And every such kal.
So a modest narrator your Alex will not tell you anything else, but simply go into another life, singing the best of his music – hole-dust-hole-hole-pyre…
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