Is it better to have goodness forced upon you, or is it better to be able to choose to be bad? That's the question Burgess presents in this story of Alex, the main character. And this book made me think about which was is better. As a society, we like to think that goodness is obviously the better choice, but as you can see through Alex, who becomes capable of only goodness, that can't work as easily as we'd like it to.
The language was a difficult barrier for me, but after the first part of the book, I was able to really get into the story and I forgot about the difficulty of the language. I found too that even though I didn't understand all of the terms, it wasn't necessary for me to have a glossary or anything because if I couldn't figure it out myself, I didn't need to understand.
I remember talking to my husband as I read the first few chapters, and he and I were both appalled by what I was reading. The things Alex and his droogies did in this first part is really horrible, and yet, as I was reading, they seemed completely natural. This made me think about how neutral I am to crime now because of society. Crime is romanticized and dramatized and made normal through books and television, which is actually a really scary thing to consider. The actions in the first part are truly horrifying, yet I found myself laughing at some of the lines in the midst of the violence. That was a weird feeling, but Burgess manages to bring humor into the horror to make it seem more natural or human.
Alex himself is a very confusing character. He's only 15 when the book begins, and yet he and his friends have done some of the worst things I've known a human to do. At 15 years of age. Then, he turns around and smacks Dim because of his lack of manners. What? Manners are important to this guy who beats up anyone who crosses his path just for fun and rapes any girl or woman he sees? He's concerned about his muscle having proper manners? I also don't understand his fascination with classical music. How can he so easily see the beauty of Mozart and Beethoven, but fail to see any beauty or value in the life of a human being? That's a question I never got answered, and I might just have to figure it out on my own.
The captivating portion of this book really starts about halfway through part 2 for me, when Alex is presented with this new view of correcting criminals: "The new view is that we turn the bad into the good" (p. 104). They're going to eradicate Alex of all of his bad, to the point where he is capable of only doing good.
Burgess brings up so many good questions in this last half, mostly surrounding the question of free will. Is it better to choose bad than to be forced to do good? What makes a man good? If a man is incapable of committing bad, is he good? Can you cure a man of "bad?"
This was an excellent novel: excellent and horrifying. Is this what our future holds? Will future teenagers behave like Alex at the beginning? I pray not. If this is the case, how will we, as a society, handle this crime?
One thing I also wanted to touch on was the last chapter. When first published, the last chapter wasn't included, and I can understand why. I think it is so much more powerful to end on the previous chapter with Alex's cure. In my opinion, adding that last chapter takes away from the true purpose of the novel, and dissolves the impact that the final line could have on the novel: "I was cured all right" (p. 199). However, I'm sure Burgess had a reason for including that chapter, and as the author, I believe he knows best.
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