Summary Clockwork Orange
E. Burgess
Clockwork Orange
Before you, blin, is nothing like a society of the future, and your humble narrator, shorty Alex, now will tell you in which 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 seduksen, 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 bullied, they first met one starikashku near the library and made him a good toltchok (crawled on to karatchkah, all
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, and I want to cut this whole world (that is all this kal!) 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, I gave her the proper tykve, and here cops. Maltchicki were washed away, and I was left on purpose, suld. They did not like that I was in charge, but they were considered dark. Well, the cops broke me in there and in the station.
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 started a feast with a prison priest (there everyone called him prison fistula), but he kept on talking, blinin, 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 movies. 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 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 (and Ludwig van all the time!), Because, you see, from her 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. such cramps and pains in the stomach that would never have looked. 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 (and Ludwig van all the time!), Because, you see, from her 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. such cramps and pains in the stomach that would never have looked. 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 (and Ludwig van all the time!), Because, you see, from her 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 the most abomination – at the same time included my favorite music (and Ludwig van all the time!), Because, you see, from her 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 the most abomination – at the same time included my favorite music (and Ludwig van all the time!), Because, you see, from her 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 on the loose, I felt worse than in prison. Beat me, everyone who just comes to mind: and my former victims, and cops, and my former friends (some of them, blin, by that time already themselves cops have become!), And I could not answer anyone, since when the slightest such intention 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 mine (Bach, “Brandenburg Quartet”), and so it became so bad for me: I’m dying, and I can not escape – locked. Generally,
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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