Paul Bryant's Reviews > A Clockwork Orange
A Clockwork Orange
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In 1960 Anthony Burgess was 43 and had written 4 novels and had a proper job teaching in the British Colonial Service in Malaya and Brunei. Then he had a collapse and the story gets complicated. But I like the first cool version AB told, which was that he was diagnosed with an inoperable brain tumour and given a year to live. Since as you know he lived a further 33 years, we may conclude the doctors were not entirely correct. However - the doctor tells you you have a year to live - what do you do?* Lapse into a major depression? Get drunk and stay drunk? Buy a Harley davidson? Not if you were Anthony Burgess. Uxorious regard for his wife's future security bade him to place his arse on a chair in the unpleasing English seaside town of Hove and type out five and a half novels in the one year left to him, which, he later pointed out, was approximately equivalent to E M Forster's entire lifetime output. And the last of these five completed novels was A Clockwork Orange.
No mean feat.
So, this little novel should be on everyone who hasn't read it's must read list. It's a real hoot, and it's absolutely eerie in its predictions about youth culture and recreational drug use. It's also very famous for its hilarious language, all those malenky droogs, horrorshow devotchkas and gullivers and lashings of the old in-out in-out - the reader must be warned that it's very catching and you will for sure begin boring all your friends and family about tolchocking the millicents and creeching on your platties and suchlike. They'll give you frosty looks and begin avoiding you at the breakfast table, but you won't be able to help it. In extreme cases they might smeck your grazhny yarbles and that will definately shut you up.
* Reminds me of the old joke where the doctor says to the guy "I'm sorry to say you only have three minutes to live." Guy says "Isn't there anything you can do for me?" Doctor says "I could boil you an egg."
No mean feat.
So, this little novel should be on everyone who hasn't read it's must read list. It's a real hoot, and it's absolutely eerie in its predictions about youth culture and recreational drug use. It's also very famous for its hilarious language, all those malenky droogs, horrorshow devotchkas and gullivers and lashings of the old in-out in-out - the reader must be warned that it's very catching and you will for sure begin boring all your friends and family about tolchocking the millicents and creeching on your platties and suchlike. They'll give you frosty looks and begin avoiding you at the breakfast table, but you won't be able to help it. In extreme cases they might smeck your grazhny yarbles and that will definately shut you up.
* Reminds me of the old joke where the doctor says to the guy "I'm sorry to say you only have three minutes to live." Guy says "Isn't there anything you can do for me?" Doctor says "I could boil you an egg."
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Smeck means laugh though, doesn't it? If you wanted to get technical :p

I walked out. I love your review and but the admonition to read the book is taken with a pinch of snuff, sir. I'll just have to remain illiterate.

The pure economical deceiving ugly-truth whizbang of language.
Some people say this book is difficult to read because of the Nadsat it uses. I can see it being difficult for other reasons, most certainly. But the language is not the hard part, trust me. I found this one easier to read, language-wise, than most other novels.



I HATE HATE HATE HATE the ending in which that little shithead-sociopath gets all better. What a load of crap.



Not much wrong with Hove though. It could be worse, he could have settled in Brighton itself or kept on traveling and reached Beachy Head near Eastbourne (not far from Hove) and you know what happens when upset people end up there!
That joke about boiling an egg is good. Made me chuckle.
BBC stopped showing cricket about a decade ago. Channel 4 and Sky Sports for cricket these days.







Okay, thanks for letting me know. Maybe someday I will try to pick it up.

Doc: You don't have long to live.
Pt: Okay...tell me the truth. How long do I have?
Doc: 10...
Pt: 10 years?
Doc: *shakes his head*
Pt: 10 months?
Doc: *shakes head*
Pt: 10 days?
Doc:* shakes head*
Pt: Tell me how much then doc!!!
Doc: 10,9,8,7,6....

I understand that a zillion people now self publish in one way or another and have to hustle up business the best they can but probably commenting on GR reviews is not the most efficient use of your time.
Best wishes.




Q: Why did the sword-swallower finish half way through his act?
A: Because he had a mid-knife crisis.