Stanley Kubrick's A clockwork orange: based on the novel by Anthony Burgess (20 page)

Germans prodding like beseeching and weeping Jews - vecks

and cheenas and malchicks and devotchkas - into mestos

where they would all snuff it of poison gas.  Boo hoo hoo I

had to go again, and along they came to wipe the tears off,

very skorry, so I should not miss one solitary veshch of what

they were showing.  It was a terrible and horrible day, O my

brothers and only friends.

I was lying on the bed all alone that nochy after my dinner

of fat thick mutton stew and fruit-pie and ice-cream, and I

thought to myself: "Hell hell hell, there might be a chance for

me if I get out now."  I had no weapon, though.  I was allowed

no britva here, and I had been shaved every other day by a fat

bald-headed veck who came to my bed before breakfast, two

white-coated bratchnies standing by to viddy I was a good

non-violent malchick.  The nails on my rookers had been scis-

sored and filed real short so I could not scratch.  But I was still

skorry on the attack, though they had weakened me down,

brothers, to a like shadow of what I had been in the old free

days.  So now I got off the bed and went to the locked door

and began to fist it real horrorshow and hard, creeching at the

same time: "Oh, help help.  I'm sick, I'm dying.  Doctor doctor

doctor, quick.  Please.  Oh, I'll die, I shall.  Help."  My gorlo was

real dry and sore before anyone came.  Then I heard nogas

coming down the corridor and a like grumbling goloss, and

then I recognized the goloss of the white-coated veck who

brought me pishcha and like escorted me to my daily doom.

He like grumbled:

"What is it?  What goes on?  What's your little nasty game in

there?"

"Oh, I'm dying," I like moaned.  "Oh, I have a ghastly pain in

my side.  Appendicitis, it is.  Ooooooh."

"Appendy shitehouse," grumbled this veck, and then to my

joy, brothers, I could slooshy the like clank of keys.  "If you're

trying it little friend, my friends and me will beat and kick you

all through the night."  Then he opened up and brought in like

the sweet air of the promise of my freedom.  Now I was like

behind the door when he pushed it open, and I could viddy

him in the corridor light looking round for me puzzled.  Then

I raised my two fisties to tolchock him on the neck nasty, and

then, I swear, as I viddied him in advance lying moan-

ing or out out out and felt the like joy rise in my guts, it was

then that this sickness rose in me as it might be a wave and I

felt a horrible fear as if I was really going to die.  I like tottered

over to the bed going urgh urgh urgh, and the veck, who was

not in his white coat but an over-gown, viddied clear enough

what I had in mind for he said:

"Well, everything's a lesson, isn't it?  Learning all the time,

as you could say.  Come on, little friend, get up from that bed

and hit me.  I want you to, yes, really.  A real good crack across

the jaw.  Oh, I'm dying for it, really I am."  But all I could do,

brothers, was to just lay there sobbing boo hoo hoo.  "Scum,"

like sneered this veck now.  "Filth."  And he pulled me up by like

the scruff of my pyjama-top, me being very weak and limp,

and he raised and swung his right rooker so that I got a fair

old tolchock clean on the litso.  "That," he said, "is for getting

me out of my bed, you young dirt."  And he wiped his rookers

against each other swish swish and went out.  Crunch crunch

went the key in the lock.

And what, brothers, I had to escape into sleep from then

was the horrible and wrong feeling that it was better to get

the hit than give it.  If that veck had stayed I might even have

like presented the other cheek.

7

I could not believe, brothers, what I was told.  It seemed that I

had been in that vonny mesto for near ever and would be

there for near ever more.  But it had always been a fortnight

and now they said the fortnight was near up.  They said:

"Tomorrow, little friend, out out out."  And they made with

the old thumb, like pointing to freedom.  And then the white-

coated veck who had tolchocked me and who had still

brought me my trays of pishcha and like escorted me to my

everyday torture said: "But you still have one real big day in

front of you.  It's to be your passing-out day," and he had a

leery smeck at that.

I expected this morning that I would be ittying as usual to

the sinny mesto in my pyjamas and toofles and over-gown.

But no.  This morning I was given my shirt and underveshches

and my platties of the night and my horrorshow kick-boots,

all lovely and washed or ironed and polished.  And I was even

given my cut-throat britva that I had used in those old happy

days for fillying and dratsing.  So I gave with the puzzled frown

at this as I got dressed, but the white-coated under-veck just

like grinned and would govoreet nothing, O my brothers.

I was led quite kindly to the same old mesto, but there were

changes there.  Curtains had been drawn in front of the sinny

screen and the frosted glass under the projection holes was

no longer there, it having perhaps been pushed up or folded

to the sides like blinds or shutters.  And where there had been

just the noise of coughing kashl kashl kashl and like shadows

of the lewdies was now a real audience, and in this audience

there were litsos I knew.  There was the Staja Governor and

the holy man, the charlie or charles as he was called, and the

Chief Chasso and this very important and well-dressed chello-

veck who was the Minister of the Interior or Inferior.  All the

rest I did not know.  Dr. Brodsky and Dr. Branom were there,

though not now white-coated, instead they were dressed as

doctors would dress who were big enough to want to dress in

the heighth of fashion.  Dr. Branom just stood, but Dr. Brodsky

stood and govoreeted in a like learned manner to all the

lewdies assembled.  When he viddied me coming in he said:

"Aha.  At this stage, gentlemen, we introduce the subject him-

self.  He is, as you will percieve, fit and well nourished.  He

comes straight from a night's sleep and a good breakfast,

undrugged, unhypnotized.  Tomorrow we send him with

confidence out into the world again, as decent a lad as you

would meet on a May morning, inclined to the kindly word

and the helpful act.  What a change is here, gentlemen, from

the wretched hoodlum the State committed to unprofitable

punishment some two years ago, unchanged after two years.

Unchanged, do I say?  Not quite.  Prison taught him the false

smile, the rubbed hands of hypocrisy, the fawning greased

obsequious leer.  Other vices it taught him, as well as

confirming him in those he had long practised before.  But

gentlemen, enough of words.  Actions speak louder than.

Action now.  Observe, all."

I was a bit dazed by all this govoreeting and I was trying to

grasp in my mind that like all this was about me.  Then all the

lights went out and then there came on two like spotlights

shining from the projection-squares, and one of them was full

on Your Humble and Suffering Narrator.  And into the other

spotlight there walked a bolshy big chelloveck I had never

viddied before.  He had a lardy like litso and a moustache and

like strips of hair pasted over his near-bald gulliver.  He was

about thirty or forty or fifty, some old age like that, starry.

He ittied up to me and the spotlight ittied with him, and soon

the two spotlights had made like one big pool.  He said to me,

very sneery: "Hello, heap of dirt.  Pooh, you don't wash much,

judging from the horrible smell."  Then, as if he was like danc-

ing, he stamped on my nogas, left, right, then he gave me a

finger-nail flick on the nose that hurt like bezoomny and

brought the old tears to my glazzies then he twisted at my left

ooko like it was a radio dial.  I could slooshy titters and a

couple of real horrorshow hawhawhaws coming from like

the audience.  My nose and nogas and ear-hole stung and

pained like bezoomny, so I said:

"What do you do that to me for?  I've never done wrong to

you, brother."

"Oh," this veck said, "I do this" - flickedflicked nose again -

"and that" - twisted smarting ear-hole - "and the other" -

stamped nasty on right noga - "because I don't care for your

horrible type.  And if you want to do anything about it, start,

start, please do."  Now I knew that I'd have to be real skorry

and get my cut-throat britva out before this horrible killing

sickness whooshed up and turned the like joy of battle into

feeling I was going to snuff it.  But, O brothers, as my rooker

reached for the britva in my inside carman I got this like

picture in my mind's glazzy of this insulting chelloveck how-

ling for mercy with the red red krovvy all streaming out of his

rot, and hot after this picture the sickness and dryness and

pains were rushing to overtake, and I viddied that I'd have to

change the way I felt about this rotten veck very very skorry

indeed, so I felt in my carmans for cigarettes or for pretty

polly, and, O my brothers, there was not either of these

veshches, I said, like all howly and blubbery:

"I'd like to give you a cigarette, brother, but I don't seem to

have any."  This veck went:

"Wah wah.  Boohoohoo.  Cry, baby."  Then he flick-

flickflicked with his bolshy horny nail at my nose again, and I

could slooshy very loud smecks of like mirth coming from the

dark audience.  I said, real desperate, trying to be nice to this

insulting and hurtful veck to stop the pains and sickness

coming up:

"Please let me do something for you, please."  And I felt in

my carmans but could find only my cut-throat britva, so I

took this out and handed it to him and said: "Please take this,

please.  A little present.  Please have it."  But he said:

"Keep your stinking bribes to yourself.  You can't get round

me that way."  And he banged at my rooker and my cut-throat

britva fell on the floor.  So I said:

"Please, I must do something.  Shall I clean your boots?  Look,

I'll get down and lick them."  And, my brothers, believe it or

kiss my sharries, I got down on my knees and pushed my red

yahzick out a mile and half to lick his grahzny vonny boots.

But all this veck did was to kick me not too hard on the rot.

So then it seemed to me that it would not bring on the sick-

ness and pain if I just gripped his ankles with my rookers tight

round them and brought this grashzny bratchny down to the

floor.  So I did this and he got a real bolshy surprise, coming

down crack amid loud laughter from the vonny audience.  But

viddying him on the floor I could feel the whole horrible feel-

ing coming over me, so I gave him my rooker to lift him up

skorry and up he came.  Then just as he was going to give me

a real nasty and earnest tolchock on the litso Dr. Brodsky said: