Stanley Kubrick's A clockwork orange: based on the novel by Anthony Burgess (14 page)

of Prison Religion, and he wanted a real horrorshow tes-

timonial from the Governor, so he would go and govoreet

quietly to the Governor now and then about what dark plots

were brewing among the plennies, and he would get a lot of

this cal from me.  A lot of it would be all like made up, but

some of it would be true, like for instance the time it had

come through to our cell on the waterpipes knock knock

knockiknockiknock knockiknock that big Harriman was

going to break.  He was going to tolchock the warder at

slop-time and get out in the warder's platties.  Then there was

going to be a big throwing about of the horrible pishcha we

got in the dining-hall, and I knew about that and told.  Then

the charlie passed it on and was complimented like by the

Governor for his Public Spirit and Keen Ear.  So this time I

said, and this was not true:

"Well, sir, it has come through on the pipes that a con-

signment of cocaine has arrived by irregular means and that a

cell somewhere along Tier 5 is to be the centre of dis-

tribution."  I made all that up as I went along, like I made

up so many of these stories, but the prison charlie was very

grateful, saying: "Good, good, good.  I shall pass that on

to Himself," this being what he called the Governor.  Then I

said:

"Sir, I have done my best, have I not?"  I always used my very

polite gentleman's goloss govoreeting with those at the top.

"I've tried, sir, haven't I?"

"I think," said the charlie, "that on the whole you have,

6655321.  You've been very helpful and, I consider, shown a

genuine desire to reform.  You will, if you continue in this

manner, earn your remission with no trouble at all."

"But sir," I said, "how about this new thing they're talking

about?  How about this new like treatment that gets you out

of prison in no time at all and makes sure that you never get

back in again?"

"Oh," he said, very like wary.  "Where did you hear this?

Who's been telling you these things?"

"These things get around, sir," I said.  "Two warders talk, as it

might be, and somebody can't help hearing what they say.  And

then somebody picks up a scrap of newspaper in the work-

shops and the newspaper says all about it.  How about you

putting me in for this thing, sir, if I may make so bold as to

make the suggestion?"

You could viddy him thinking about that while he puffed

away at his cancer, wondering how much to say to me about

what he knew about this veshch I'd mentioned.  Then he said:

"I take it you're referring to Ludovico's Technique."  He was

still very wary.

"I don't know what it's called, sir," I said.  "All I know is that

it gets you out quickly and makes sure that you don't get in

again."

"That is so," he said, his eyebrows like all beetling while he

looked down at me.  "That is quite so, 6655321.  Of course, it's

only in the experimental stage at the moment.  It's very simple

but very drastic."

"But it's being used here, isn't it, sir?" I said.  "Those new like

white buildings by the South wall, sir.  We've watched those

being built, sir, when we've been doing our exercise."

"It's not been used yet," he said, "not in this prison,

6655321.  Himself has grave doubts about it.  I must confess I

share those doubts.  The question is whether such a technique

can really make a man good.  Goodness comes from within,

6655321.  Goodness is something chosen.  When a man cannot

choose he ceases to be a man."  He would have gone on with a

lot more of this cal, but we could slooshy the next lot of

plennies marching clank clank down the iron stairs to come

for their bit of Religion.  He said: "We'll have a little chat

about this some other time.  Now you'd better start the vol-

untary."  So I went over to the starry stereo and put on

J. S. Bach's 'Wachet Auf' Choral Prelude and in these grahzny

vonny bastard criminals and perverts came shambling like a

lot of broke-down apes, the warders or chassos like barking

at them and lashing them.  And soon the prison charlie was

asking them: "What's it going to be then, eh?"  And that's

where you came in.

We had four of these lomticks of like Prison Religion that

morning, but the charles said no more to me about this Lu-

dovico's Technique, whatever it was, O my brothers.  When I'd

finished my rabbit with the stereo he just govoreeted a few

slovos of thanks and then I was privodeeted back to the cell

on Tier 6 which was my very vonny and crammed home.  The

chasso was not really too bad of a veck and he did not tol-

chock or kick me in when he'd opened up, he just said: "Here

we are, sonny, back to the old waterhole."  And there I was

with my new type droogs, all very criminal but, Bog be

praised, not given to perversions of the body.  There was

Zophar on his bunk, a very thin and brown veck who went on

and on and on in his like cancery goloss, so that nobody

bothered to slooshy.  What he was saying now like to nobody

was "And at that time you couldn't get hold of a poggy" (what-

ever that was, brothers), "not if you was to hand over ten

million archibalds, so what do I do, eh, I goes down to

Turkey's and says I've got this sproog on that morrow, see,

and what can he do?"  It was all this very old-time real crimi-

nal's slang he spoke.  Also there was Wall, who had only one

glazzy, and he was tearing bits of his toe-nails off in honour of

Sunday.  Also there was Big Jew, a very fat sweaty veck lying

flat on his bunk like dead.  In addition there was Jojohn and

The Doctor.  Jojohn was very mean and keen and wiry and had

specialized in like Sexual Assault, and The Doctor had pre-

tended to be able to cure syph and gon and gleet but he had

only injected water, also he had killed off two devotchkas

instead, like he had promised, of getting rid of their unwanted

loads for them.  They were a terrible grahzny lot really, and I

didn't enjoy being with them, O my brothers, any more than

you do now, but it won't be for much longer.

Now what I want you to know is that this cell was intended

for only three when it was built, but there were six of us there,

all jammed together sweaty and tight.  And that was the state

of all the cells in all the prisons in those days, brothers, and a

dirty cally disgrace it was, there not being decent room for a

chelloveck to stretch his limbs.  And you will hardly believe

what I say now, which is that on this Sunday they brosatted in

another plenny.  Yes, we had had our horrible pishcha of

dumplings and vonny stew and were smoking a quiet cancer

each on our bunks when this veck was thrown into our midst.

He was a chinny starry veck and it was him who started cree-

ching complaints before we even had a chance to viddy the

position.  He tried to like shake the bars, creeching: "I demand

my sodding rights, this one's full-up, it's a bleeding im-

position, that's what it is."  But one of the chassos came back

to say that he had to make the best of it and share a bunk

with whoever would let him, otherwise it would have to be

the floor.  "And," said the warder, "it's going to get worse, not

better.  A right dirty criminal world you lot are trying to

build."

2

Well, it was the letting-in of this new chelloveck that was

really the start of my getting out of the old Staja, for he was

such a nasty quarrelsome type of plenny, with a very dirty

mind and filthy intentions, that trouble nachinatted that very

same day.  He was also very boastful and started to make with

a very sneery litso at us all and a loud proud goloss.  He made

out that he was the only real horrorshow prestoopnick in the

whole zoo, going on that he'd done this and done the other

and killed ten rozzes with one crack of his rooker and all that

cal.  But nobody was very impressed, O my brothers.  So then

he started on me, me being the youngest there, trying to say

that as the youngest I ought to be the one to zasnoot on the

floor and not him.  But all the others were for me, creeching:

"Leave him alone, you grahzny bratchny," and then he began

the old whine about how nobody loved him.  So that same

nochy I woke up to find this horrible plenny actually lying

with me on my bunk, which was on the bottom of the three-

tier and also very narrow, and he was govoreeting dirty like

love-slovos and stroke stroke stroking away.  So then I got

real bezoomny and lashed out, though I could not viddy all

that horrorshow, there being only this malenky little red light

outside on the landing.  But I knew it was this one, the vonny

bastard, and then when the trouble really got under way and

the lights were turned on I could viddy his horrible litso with

all krovvy dripping from his rot where I'd hit out with my

clawing rooker.

What sloochatted then, of course, was that me cell-mates

woke up and started to join in, tolchocking a bit wild in the

near-dark, and the shoom seemed to wake up the whole tier,

so that you could slooshy a lot of creeching and banging

about with tin mugs on the wall, as though all the plennies in

all the cells thought a big break was about to commence, O

my brothers.  So then the lights came on and the chassos came

along in their shirts and trousers and caps, waving big sticks.

We could viddy each other's flushed litsos and the shaking of

fisty rookers, and there was a lot of creeching and cursing.

Then I put in my complaint and every chasso said it was prob-

ably your Humble Narrator, brothers, that started it all

anyway, me having no mark of a scratch on me but this hor-

rible plenny dipping red red krovvy from the rot where I'd

got him with my clawing rooker.  That made me real be-

zoomny.  I said I would not sleep another nochy in that cell if

the Prison Authorities were going to allow horrible vonny

stinking perverted prestoopnicks to leap on my plott when I

was in no position to defend myself, being asleep.  "Wait till

the morning," they said.  "Is it a private room with bath and

television that your honour requires?  Well, all that will be

seen to in the morning.  But for the present, little droog, get

your bleeding gulliver down on your straw-filled podooshka

and let's have no more trouble from anyone.  Right right

right?"  Then off they went with stern warnings for all, then

soon after the lights went out, and then I said I would sit up

all the rest of the nochy, saying first to this horrible pre-

stoopnick: "Go on, get on my bunk if you wish it.  I fancy it no

longer.  You have made it filthy and cally with your horrible

vonny plott lying on it already."  But then the others joined in.

Big Jew said, still sweating from the bit of a bitva we'd had in

the dark: