A Clockwork Orange

I saved this copy of A Clockwork Orange while my boyfriend cleaned out his childhood bedroom, sweeping everything clean into the trash.  It is an American reprint complete with a forward by Burgess complaining about how both previous versions of this novel (and consequently Kubrick's film as well) omitted the 21st chapter, as well as the final chapter in question.

Having read the full book with this 2-sided knowledge, it's clear that the question is not whether one version is better or worse than the other.  What it does, actually, is show you how much of a difference a single chapter can do in a to-the-point way that I have rarely experienced.  Knowing that the story could have ended with Alex being "fixed", and then going on to see his natural train of thought after the fact turns the overarching theme from one of the frights of technology and government, to something around the idea of whether a man can ever change.  It would be interesting to experience this book in all three ways (20 chapters with no knowledge of the last, 21 chapters with no knowledge of America's cutting the story short, and the way I came about it) with a clear slate, though obviously that is impossible.  I guess the only way one could do that would be to concede to technology and get a lobotomy 3 times over.  Seems fitting.

Other notes: gritty, punky, and very violent.  I usually don't like plots like this, and it honestly was rough for me to get through in the beginning, but it redeemed itself.  Also, Burgess is pretty freakin' fun and I quite enjoyed his voice in the Introductory note.  Give it a try (and don't cop out and just watch the film...though I assume it's theatrical and beautiful, being a Kubrick and all that).

147. The Secret History

Donna Tartt dedicates this book to Brett Easton Ellis.  When I opened the first few pages and saw this, I was a little bit exasperated at this fact, and indeed, she has the same tendencies for violence and tragedies that Ellis has.  They also share, I think, the same attraction to creating something beautiful (though they do it in different ways, hers more nostalgic softness while his is bold and neurotic), and unfortunately also the same shortcomings in achieving it.

There is a creepiness that runs through the way it is written, though I don't think it's due to the plot itself but more in the fact that something seems awry in the way Tartt writes.  Her writing wants so badly to be meaningful and emotional, but ultimately feels flat and feels theatrical with an adolescent quality.  For the entirety of the book, I had an unsettling feeling that I had read this book before, as everything I read had a deja vu sense to it.  Having finished it, I still have yet to solve whether I actually have somehow come in contact with this story before, or if it was just the type of story that is too overdone to the point of becoming cliche.  Perhaps this was the main cause of the haunting feeling that followed me through the majority of my read -- a  familiarity of all events, and inability to find surprise in anything.

Not the worst, but not the best either.  But hey, I guess at least her characters were likable.