A Clockwork Orange / Заводной апельсин. Энтони Бёрджесс

a light on, and there was this devotchka sort of hiding, a young pretty bit of sharp with real horrorshow groodies on her, and with her was this chelloveck who was her moodge, youngish too with horn-rimmed otchkies[141]on him, and on a table was a typewriter and all papers scattered everywhere, but there was one little pile of paper like that must have been what he'd already typed, so here was another intelligent type bookman type like that we'd fillied with some hours back, but this one was a writer not a reader. Anyway, he said:

      “What is this? Who are you? How dare you enter my house without permission?” And all the time his goloss was trembling and his rookers too.

      Then Georgie and Pete went out to find the kitchen, while old Dim waited for orders, standing next to me with his rot wide open. “What is this, then?” I said, picking up the pile like of typing from off of the table, and the horn-rimmed moodge said, trembling:

      “That's just what I want to know. What is this? What do you want? Get out at once before I throw you out.” So poor old Dim, masked like Peebee Shelley, had a good loud smeck[142] at that. “It's a book,” I said. “It's a book what you are writing.” I made the old goloss very coarse. “I have always had the strongest admiration for them as can write books.” Then I looked at its top sheet, and there was the name – A C L O C K W O R K O R A N G E – and I said: “That's a fair gloopy title. Who ever heard of a clockwork orange?” Then I started to tear up the sheets and scatter the bits over the floor, and this writer moodge went sort of bezoomny and made for me with his zoobies clenched and his nails ready for me like claws. So that was old Dim's turn and he went grinning and going for this veck's trembling rot, crack crack[143], first left fistie then right, so that our dear old droog the red started to pour and spot the nice clean carpet and the bits of this book that I was still ripping away at. All this time this devotchka, his loving and faithful wife,just stood like froze by the fireplace, and then she started letting out little malenky creeches, like in time to the like music of old Dim's fisty work. Then Georgie and Pete came in from the kitchen, both munching away, though with their maskies on. Georgie with like a cold leg of something in one rooker and half a loaf of kleb[144]with a big dollop of maslo on it in the other, and Pete with a bottle of beer and a horrorshow rookerful of like plum cake. They went haw haw haw[145], viddying old Dim dancing round and fisting the writer veck so that the writer veck started to platch[146] like his life's work was ruined, going boo hoo hoo[147] with a very bloody rot. I didn't like that, so I said: “Drop that mounch. I gave no permission. Grab hold of this veck here so he can viddy all and not get away.” So they put down their fatty pishcha[148] on the table among all the flying paper and they held the writer veck whose horn-rimmed otchkies were cracked but still hanging on, with old Dim still dancing round while he Allied with the author of 'A Clockwork Orange', making his litso all purple and dripping away like some very special sort of a juicy fruit. “All right, Dim,” I said. “Now for the other veshch, Bog help us all.” So he did the strong-man on the devotchka, who was still creech creech creeching away, locking her rookers from the back, while I ripped away at this and that and the other, the others going haw haw haw still, and real good horrorshow groodies[149] they were, O my brothers, while I got ready for the plunge. Plunging, I could slooshy cries of agony and this writer bleeding veck howling bezoomny with the filthiest of slovos that I already knew and others he was making up. Then after me it was right old Dim should have his turn, which he did in a beasty sort of a way with his Peebee Shelley maskie on, while I held on to her. Then there was a changeover, Dim and me grabbing the slobbering writer veck who was past struggling really, and Pete and Georgie had theirs. Then there was like quiet and we were full of like hate, so smashed what was left to be smashed – typewriter, lamp, chairs – and Dim, it was typical of old Dim, watered the fire out[150] and was going to dung on the carpet, there being plenty of paper, but I said no. “Out out out out,” I howled. The writer veck and his zheena[151] were not really there, bloody and torn and making noises. But they'd live.

      So we got into the waiting auto and I left it to Georgie to take the wheel, me feeling that malenky bit shagged, and we went back to town, running over odd squealing things on the way.

      3

      We yeckated[152] back townwards, but just outside, not far from the Industrial Canal, we viddied the fuel needle[153]had like collapsed, and the auto was coughing kashl[154]kashl kashl. The point was whether to leave the auto to be sobiratted[155] by the rozzes or to give it a fair tolchock into the starry waters for a nice heavy loud plesk[156]. This latter we decided on, so we got out and, the brakes off[157], all four tolchocked it to the edge of the filthy water, then one good horrorshow tolchock and in she went. We had to dash back for fear of the filth splashing on our platties, but splussshhhh she went, down and lovely. “Farewell, old droog,” called Georgie, and Dim gave a clowny great guff[158] – “Huh huh huh huh.” Then we made for the station to ride the one stop to Center, as the middle of the town was called. We paid our fares nice and polite and waited gentlemanly and quiet on the platform, old Dim fillying with the slot machines, his carmans being full of small malenky coin, and ready if need be[159] to distribute chocbars[160] to the poor and hungry, though there was none such about, and then the old espresso rapido came noisy in and we climbed aboard, the train looking to be near empty. To pass the three-minute ride we fillied about with what they called the upholstery, doing some nice horrorshow tearing-out of the seats' guts and old Dim chaining the okno[161] till the glass cracked, but we were all feeling that bit shagged and fagged, it having been an evening of some small energy expenditure, my brothers, only Dim, like the clowny animal he was, full of the joys, but looking all dirtied over and too much von of sweat on him, which was one thing I had against old Dim. We got out at Center and walked slow back to the Korova Milkbar, when we got into it we found it fuller than when we'd left earlier on.

      But the chelloveck that had been burbling away on some senseless things was still on at it. It was probably his third or fourth lot that evening, for he had that pale inhuman look, like he'd become a 'thing'. Really, if he wanted to spend so long in the land, he should have gone into one of the private cubies[162] at the back and not stayed in the big mesto, because here some of the malchickies[163] would filly about with him a malenky bit, though not too much because there were powerful bruiseboys[164] hidden away in the old Korova who could stop any riot. Anyway, Dim squeezed in next to this veck and he stabbed this veck's foot with his own large filthy sabog[165]. But the veck, my brothers, heard nought, being now all above the body. It was nadsats[166] milking and coking and fillying around, but there were a few of the more starry ones, vecks and cheenas alike (but not of the bourgeois, never them) laughing and govoreeting[167] at the bar. You could tell them from their clothes that they'd been on rehearsals at the TV studios around the corner. The devotchkas among them had these very lively litsos and wide big rots, very red, showing a lot of teeth, and smecking away and not caring about the wicked world. And then the disc on the stereo ended, and in the like interval, the short silence before the next one came on, one of these devotchkas

141

роговые очки

142

смех

143

хрясь, хрясь

144

хлеб

145

хихикали

146

плакать

147

всхлипывать

148

пища

149

груди

150

помочился

151

жена

152

поехали

153

стрелка топливного датчика

154

кашлять

155

собирать (вместо «забирать»)

156

плеск, всплеск

157

отпустив тормоза

158

смех

159

если понадобится

160

шоколадные батончики

161

окно

162

кабинки

163

мальчики

164

охранники

165

сапог, ботинок

166

тинейджеры

167

разговаривающие