Polymath Anthony Burgess was always at the mercy of his impatient, subversive genius. Even his admirers would have to agree he wrote too much, too quickly, but at his best he could pull off minor miracles. This bizarre, chillingly prophetic little book is one of them. Alec tells the story in a deadpan tone through a personalised language ranging from the Shakespearean to Russian and Yiddish street slang. He is a 15-year-old, classical-music-loving thug who thrives on violence, and not as a mere observer: he and his vicious buddies terrorise for real. First published in 1962, the book is a shocking study on the breakdown of order, and it also examines choice and moral freedom. Above all, it is a virtuoso display from a writer in love with language. Therein lies one of its abiding dilemmas - the sheer dazzle of Burgess's linguistics temper the horrors of the plot. There is also the fact that it inspired Kubrick's notorious 1972 film version (now finally being seen in Irish cinemas), a connection Burgess always resented, just as he resented the way the book overshadowed the rest of his work. While Earthly Powers (1980) remains his enduring artistic statement, A Clockwork Orange testifies to its creator's daring intellectual and moral vision. And yes, it is far superior to the movie.
