Burgess’s novel doesn’t shy away from the gross, gorey, horrific reality that Alex built for himself. It’s a book that, instead of holding
your hand through the journey, forces you into the experience itself. You become the unreliable narrator to a reality you had no hand in.
I found myself obsessed with this writing style and its ability to fully infiltrate your mind. From the incessant slang, to the black and
white filter Alex views his world through, there is no escape from what the main character believes, except a small voice in the back of your
mind blaring alarm after alarm.
Nadsat, the named slang language the main character and his friends communicate through, is an important piece of the novel’s ability.
We are all familiar with slang, especially in today’s online world: from groovy to skibiddi toilet, every generation
alive has participated in the phenomenon of slang. Burgess’ novel pokes at the question, “how far can slang be used to soften a horrific reality?”
Throughout the past 10 years, TikTok has infiltrated the world as a household name. You may be familiar with the constant censorship that
has bloomed into common-usage. From “unalived” to “graped,” the terminology of heavy public discourse has altered into what I’d like to refer
to as a modern Nadsat. Burgess’ novel treats slang the same, unrecognizable jargon that gains a new meaning after being adopted by the majority
youth. It’s not only realistic, but a prophetic understanding of reality as Burgess knew it.
As the novel continues into its story, it doesn’t shy away from the concept of consequence. Consequence of actions, of solutions, of conversations;
every event is a moving part that affects the next, with the crescendo of the Ludovico technique. The novel, after hours of showing you the most horrific
self-indulgence possible, begs the question, “Does the punishment fit the crime?”
I, personally, am unsure of the answer.