The Representation of the All-Seeing Eye in A Clockwork Orange

Introduction

“Visual signs and images even when they bear a close resemblance to the things to which they refer, are still signs: they carry meaning and thus have to be interpreted” (Hall 19). These meanings and their interpretations are subject to change depending on the different eras or cultural contexts, because “there is no absolute or final fixing of meaning” (24). Over time, the same image and visual signs may reflect different connotations mirroring shifts in cultural values and norms. Moreover, “[s]igns stand for or represent our concepts, ideas, and feelings in such a way as to enable others to ‘read,’ decode or interpret their meaning in roughly the same way that we do” (5). In this regard, representation is not only a practice limited to material objects but also plays an active role in producing meaning.

Stuart Hall states, “[r]epresentation is a practice, a kind of ‘work,’ which uses material objects and effects. However, the meaning depends not on the material quality of the sign, but on its symbolic function” (25–26). A particular word or image can convey meaning. It can function as a sign in languages that align with J. Dudley Andrew’s emphasis on the relationship between the language and the world it connects with. According to Andrew, “[r]epresentation insists that we examine not only the text but the text in relation to the world it produces through our imagination” (“Representation” 51). In representation, signs are used not only to symbolise objects, people, and events in the so-called “real” world but also to reference “imaginary things and fantasy worlds or abstracts” that are not a part of the material world (Hall 28). To detect what signs represent and understand their produced meanings, Ferdinand de Saussure, the father of modern linguistics, “shaped the semiotic approach to the problem of representation” (Hall 31). For Saussure, “[l]anguage is a system of signs” (Culler 19) and the sign refers to the entire entity that emerges from the relation between the signifier “the form (the actual word, image, photo)” and the signified “the idea or concept in your head with which the form was associated” (Hall 31). This relationship between the signifier and the signified, which includes both meaning and reference, is called signification. To reinterpret and expand Saussure’s theory in a more ideological context, Roland Barthes utilised denotative and connotative levels of meaning to explore the symbolic engagement between verbal and nonverbal signs. The first level of meaning, denotation is “the simple, basic, descriptive level, where consensus is wide and most people would agree on the meaning,” and the second level, “connotation is these signifiers which we have been able to ‘decode’ at a simple level by using our conventional conceptual classifications” (Hall 38). Barthes argues “representation takes place through two separate but linked processes” (Hall 39). He elaborates on cultural and ideological meanings, particularly by linking the second level of meaning to the concept of myth. According to Barthes, “[m]yth is not defined by the object of its message, but by the way in which it utters this message … It can consist of modes of writing or of representations; not only written discourse, but also photography, cinema, reporting, sport, shows, publicity, all these can serve as a support to mythical speech” (Barthes, Mythologies 107–08). According to Barthes’ theory, myth functions as a specific form of communication that reveals hidden meanings in any kind of language, such as text, images, or cinema, which can be interpreted as a demonstration of cultural beliefs or collective knowledge. Barthes’ approach is essential for analysing how signs and meanings are produced and interpreted across societies and cultures.

From a semiotic point of view, the symbol can be considered as a cultural cluster of signs. In this regard, the eye symbol is an important example of an enduring myth that has emerged in several cultures and civilisations and has had various meanings throughout history. As Charles Peirce points out in The Art of Reasoning (1893),

Because myth attributes more profound cultural or ideological meaning to ordinary symbols, the eye symbol that has transcended its first level of meaning to embody divinity, authority, control, and evil can be interpreted as a myth. The eye, as an ancient symbol, has appeared in various distant regions and has had numerous meanings in different societies throughout history. The roots of the eye symbols are based on Old Mesopotamia: “One of the earliest samples is observed in a vase found in Hassuna and dated back to B.C. 5000” (Temür 13). These eye symbols are considered God’s eyes, which are all-seeing and protective. Ancient Mesopotamians believe that the evil eye is responsible for death, destruction, disasters, punishment, and illness. Similar to the Mesopotamians, the Egyptians believe in an evil eye, the eye of Ra; however, the Eye of Horus, or Wadjet, is associated with healing, well-being, and protection (Seawright). Despite their contrasting meanings, the Egyptians consider the evil eye as complementary to the protective eye: “The eyes of Horus represented the sun and the moon, his white right eye the sun, and his black left eye, the moon” (Fingesten 19). In Eastern cultures, such as Hinduism, Buddhism, and Taoism, the all-seeing eye is considered the third eye or the mind’s eye, which signifies the eye of consciousness. The third eye refers to an ability of insight that beyond the physical sight, the two sensory eyes cannot (Vasudev), known as the “urna” or “divine eye,” it symbolises “spiritual insight” (Getty 178). In Greek mythology, Zeus is described as the “all-seeing eye” and “infinity, all-round about, surveying all the universe” (Nonnus 259–61).

Additionally, in monotheistic religions, God is all-seeing, similar to other ancient gods and goddesses. For instance, in the Bible, Yahweh is the great and loving God, and “The Lord looks from heaven; he sees all the sons of men” (The Bible, Ps. 33.13). Similarly, in the Quran, “Indeed Allah, of what you do, is Seeing” (The Quran, 2.110). The emergence of the eye symbol in Western traditions dates back to 1556 with Piero Valeriano’s Hieroglyphica sive de Sacris Ægyptiorum Litteris Commentarii, a dictionary of symbolism. Valeriano wrote that “of the eye attributed to God in divine scripture is a sign (signum) of that Intelligence wherefrom nothing, however distant, might be hidden” (234). In Renaissance Art, the all-seeing eye is depicted as a divine eye of God spread in conventional and esoteric circles and became a common visual icon of Western culture in the fifteenth-century (Eyer). Jacopo da Pontormo’s painting, Cena in Emmaus (1494–1557), is one of the early examples of the all-seeing eye as a popular Christian symbol, “while the visual representation of the all-seeing eye within a triangle was typically a Catholic emblem, the eye of God was also used by Protestants such as Sir Walter Raleigh (1554–1618)” (Eyer 116). Jakob Böhme (1575–1624), a notable Christian mystic, features the all-seeing-eye as the eye of God and emphasises that “the Eye of the Lord sees all” (Eyer 117). An English Renaissance mystic, Robert Fludd (1574–1637), in Utriusque Cosmi, Maioris scilicet et Minoris, Metaphysica, Physica, atque Technica Historia (1621), portrays the all-seeing eye as a man worshipping God. The all-seeing eye persisted as one of the most striking and common symbols of God in the works of also other notable Christian mystics such as Marsilio Ficino, Giovanni Pico, Johann Reuchlin, Athanasius Kircher, and Knorr von Rosenroth (Eyer 118).

Besides these interpretations of the eye symbol, it is often considered as the “window of the soul which sees everything” (Wilkinson 104). However, as Hall asserts, “meaning is constantly being produced and exchanged in every personal and social interaction” (3). Consequently, during the Enlightenment period, the meaning of the eye symbol shifts from God’s or the mind’s eye to rationality and objective gaze. Over time, it evolved into such concepts as authority, control, and surveillance. This shift emerges with Jeremy Bentham’s panopticon proposal: “an architectural system depending on surveillance, or, as he called it, ‘inspection’” (Lyon 26). According to David Lyon, “Bentham’s panoptic prison design echoed in some important respects the medieval ‘eye of God’ depictions” (25). Bentham’s panopticon prison model enforces self-regulation by instilling a perception that individuals are under surveillance from an external eye (a watchtower). Therefore, the panopticon derived from the omniscient gaze, is regarded as a representation of God’s eye. French philosopher Michel Foucault further develops Bentham’s panopticon concept describing it as “a perfect eye that nothing would escape and a centre towards which all gazes would be turned” (173). He comprehensively indicates the “perfect eye,” as follows:

Due to Bentham’s panopticon proposal and Foucault’s contribution, the meaning of the eye symbol evolved from the eye of God, who sees, protects, and sometimes punishes all, to human authority, surveillance, discipline and control. Although the meaning of the all-seeing eye has shifted within a broad religious context, the belief that God’s eye both protects and punishes has historically contributed to social peace and order. In this regard, once ascribed to God, the all-seeing eye symbol has been transferred to the states as an apparatus of surveillance and discipline; thus, this symbol has assumed a crucial role in legitimising state authority and sustaining social control. Nonetheless, Lyon draws our attention to the continuous perception of the Eye symbol, in the sense that it was “allowed to develop according to the desires of government departments, technology developers or marketing corporations, surveillance may well resemble the God’s eye of popular imagination: myopic and sometimes malign” (31). Since the function of the all-seeing eye shifts based on the power that controls it, it has acquired distinct meanings and extended to various spheres of society, such as literature, painting, and politics. Considering the effects of eye symbols on art throughout history, the all-seeing eye has also played an essential role in modern art in terms of surveillance, discipline and control. Since “the best-known visual symbol of surveillance is the eye” (Marx 210), surveillance is often illustrated through symbolic or real eye symbols. Roger Clarke defines surveillance as “the systematic investigation or monitoring of the actions or communications of one or more persons. Its primary purpose is generally to collect information about them, their activities, or their associates” (500). Since it not only monitors but also asserts authority over those being watched, “surveillance could be like God’s eye in some quite different ways” (Lyon 22). Building on this idea, the all-seeing eye has emerged as a potent symbol of surveillance that amplifies the relationship between monitoring and authority in diverse artistic expressions.

The all-seeing eye, a recurring symbol in literature and the visual arts, has captivated numerous writers and visual artists. Surrealist artists such as René Magritte and Salvador Dalí utilised the all-seeing eye symbol to illustrate themes of authority and control. In René Magritte’s The False Mirror (1928), the human eye is defined as a surrealistic symbol of omnipresent control and surveillance. In contrast, Salvador Dalí’s The Eye (1945) is a surrealist representation of constant surveillance and oppression.¹ Furthermore, the all-seeing eye is prominently used in movie posters for thrillers, horror, and science fiction. The feeling of being watched and followed by an eye triggers fear in the audience, and the eye creates a perception of surveillance (Courtois, Figure 1).

Figure 1

Regarding literary narratives, one of the best-known examples of the all-seeing eye is represented by “Big Brother” in George Orwell’s pioneering dystopian novel 1984 (1949). Similarly, in Margaret Atwood’s The Handmaid’s Tale (1985), the “Eyes” function as violent and oppressive enforcers of the totalitarian Gilead regime. In The Great Gatsby (1925), Dr T.J. Eckleburg’s faded blue eyes symbolise an omnipresent force knowing every dark secret of the characters—the eyes of God, as Wilson calls them: “You may fool me, but you can’t fool God” (Fitzgerald 159). In The Lord of the Rings (1954), the all-seeing eye embodies Sauron’s power, which constantly monitors and manipulates. “Frodo, exposed to the Eye … feels the powerful hostile will that strives to ‘pin you under its deadly gaze, naked, immovable’” (Lense 5). In Edgar Allan Poe’s story The Tell-Tale Heart (1843), the all-seeing eye is depicted as the evil eye of an old man. The narrator is obsessed with the eye since it always monitors him. Hence, he feels an inevitable desire to get rid of the malevolent nature of the eye: “I made up my mind to take the life of the old man, and thus rid myself of the eye for ever…. it was not the old man who vexed me, but his Evil Eye” (Poe 3–4). The examples above show that the all-seeing eye symbol departs from the benevolent dimension to represent authority, control, and power. This shift mirrors the evolution of the all-seeing eye from divine to disciplinary and authoritarian power. From this perspective, the all-seeing eye is not only a visual symbol: it also represents an authoritarian structure that constantly monitors, controls, and, if necessary, disciplines. In this regard, Barthes’ semiotic theory provides a valuable approach for analysing the meaning of the all-seeing eye symbol and understanding its function in the context of text and visual culture.

Adaptation theories, which examine the transposition of literary works into visual culture and analyse how a work is reinterpreted and reread, provide a significant framework for analysing how Burgess’s textual symbolism is reconstructed in Kubrick’s visual narrative. Scholars have highlighted how the meanings of literary works shift and enrich new narrative codes and significations during and after adaptation. For instance, in A Theory of Adaptation (2006), Linda Hutcheon describes “the phenomenon of adaptation from three distinct but interrelated perspectives.” The first perspective is “an acknowledged transposition of a recognisable other work or works, a formal entity or products.” Second is the “creative and an interpretive act of appropriation/salvaging, a process of creation.” Third is “an extended intertextual engagement with the adapted work, a process of reception” (Hutcheon 7–8). According to Hutcheon, an adaptation is “an extended, deliberate, announced revisitation of a particular work of art” (170). On the other hand, according to Thomas Leitch, adaptation is “a composite of textual and filmic signs merging an audience consciousness together with other cultural narratives and often leads to confusion as to which is novel and which is film” (103). For Leitch, adaptations should not be regarded solely as reflections of the original sources because they function as distinct narratives shaped by cultural contexts, audiences’ former knowledge, and personal experiences. Leitch’s standpoint on the separateness of adaptations aligns with Robert Stam’s interpretation of the contradictions in adaptation criticism. According to Stam,

This contradiction that Stam underlines indicates that adaptation is stuck between fidelity and creativity. Hence, adaptations are not only based on original sources but are also shaped following the cultural and aesthetic dynamics of the period in which they were produced. Therefore, successful adaptation, according to Brian McFarlane, means that “visual and aural signifiers have been found to produce data corresponding to those produced by the verbal signifiers of the novel” (82). The multilayer nature of adaptations entails elaborating narrative transformations and producing meaning. At this point, J. Dudley Andrew’s semiotics-based approach presents a different perspective by exploring adaptations as transformations between sign systems rather than intertextual relations. According to Andrew, “adaptation is the appropriation of a meaning from a prior text” and “adaptation is both a leap and a process” (“Adaptation” 97). Therefore, “the analysis of adaptation must point to the achievement of equivalent narrative units in the absolutely different semiotic systems of film and language. Narrative itself is a semiotic system available to both and derivable from both” (“Adaptation” 103). As Barthes states, “a text’s unity lies not in its origin but in its destination” (“Death of the Author” 148). The adaptation of Stanley Kubrick’s A Clockwork Orange (1971) shows that it can be considered neither an entirely faithful nor an unfaithful one. Kubrick presented a strong cinematographic representation of discipline, control, surveillance, and authority by transforming and reconstructing Burgess’s verbal narrative. He produces visual and aural signifiers corresponding to the verbal signifiers of Burgess’s narrative. In this respect, the literary symbolism of the all-seeing eye in Anthony Burgess’s A Clockwork Orange (1962) narrative is reinterpreted and visualised within Kubrick’s visual language interpolating a new narrative dimension to the novel.

Authority of the Eye

In A Clockwork Orange, Anthony Burgess addresses the increased crime rates in a future dystopian England and the so-called precautions taken by the then-current government. Alex, the protagonist and narrator of the novel, is a fifteen-year-old teenager who has a deep passion for music and literature and is a member of a gang. Alex and the other members of the gang, “his droogs,” Dim, Pete, and Georgie are drug users with violent tendencies such as random brutality, beating, robbing, and raping. Alex is arrested after murdering an elderly woman with his gang, and he is chosen for an experimental treatment called the Ludovico Technique, which consists of psychological manipulation, constant surveillance, exposure to violent films, and injection of specific chemical substances. The government enforces this treatment to rehabilitate criminals, and it aims to pair Alex’s violent tendencies with strong nausea and pain. However, the treatment only changes his manners, not his instincts, and for a while, it deprives him of his free will after strict discipline and manipulations.

The all-seeing eye symbol, carrying hidden meanings such as control, authority, discipline, and surveillance, is represented by verbal and non-verbal signs in A Clockwork Orange. Burgess meticulously weaves these hidden meanings into his novel, representing how the all-seeing eye is symbolised in various forms. In this regard, the phrase chosen for the title is remarkable in terms of its different levels of meaning. According to Burgess, “clockwork orange” defines a mechanical person in the old East London slang (1986). From Barthes’ semiotic perspective, while its initial denotative meaning refers to a mechanical individual, its connotative level of meaning reaches out beyond mechanisation. When its connotative meaning is examined in the context of Alex’s transformation, the phrase represents the state’s control over the human body and its ability to strip individuals of free will. Burgess chose this phrase because Alex was disciplined and transformed into an obedient citizen like a robot clockwork orange by taking away his free will through the Ludovico Technique.

On the other hand, Stanley Kubrick preferred to convey Burgess’s concepts of authority, discipline, and surveillance to the audience through visual symbols throughout the movie. The first and most striking example of this preference is that Alex’s right eye is made more prominent with makeup, and almost gives the impression of a divine eye rather than a real eye. For its initial denotative meaning, the movie poster’s essential focus is Alex’s highlighted eye. However, his left eye is almost invisible; it draws all attention to the unreal-looking eye (Kubrick, Figure 2). Another notable point on the movie poster is the depiction of a proportionally larger eye on Alex’s wrists. As for the connotative signifier (connotation), the unreal-looking eye sign can be read as a representation of the mechanisation of the human body through state manipulation; thus, the focus on Alex’s right eye can be interpreted as a representation of surveillance and control. Kubrick’s visual narrative constructs a myth of omnipresent state discipline, positioning Alex as both a victim and an authoritarian participant. Thus, this non-verbal sign becomes a visual expression of the totalitarian state in Burgess’s narrative.

Figure 2

To emphasise Alex’s apparent authoritarian empowerment in the novel, Burgess portrays the robbery of Alex and his gang and their fight with Billyboy’s gang at the beginning of the novel. Alex states: “Not that it mattered much, really. About half an hour went by before there was any sign of life among the millicents, and then it was only two very young rozzes that came in” (Burgess 11). The denotation of this statement shows that Alex and his gang feel comfortable around while they are committing some illegal acts since police officers do not show up there until the robbery and the fight are over. However, as for connotation, it can be interpreted differently: Alex and his gang underestimate law enforcement officers and, thus, the government’s authority. Since there is no eye to continuously watch them or the power to punish their brutal acts, their desire to commit crime becomes more wantonly and ranges more unrestrained. That Burgess represented Alex’s authority and insolence against the government in verbal signs is interpreted by non-verbal signs in Kubrick’s movie. At the denotative level, the opening sequence of the movie draws attention to Alex’s unreal-looking eye with a prolonged focus (Kubrick, Figure 3). This scene displays the denotative sign of Alex’s unrealistic eye. The connotative signifier of this scene is the representation of the authority of criminals, especially Alex’s authority and power over his gang. The myth highlights the fact that Alex is in the position of an all-seeing eye who can control, monitor, and punish whoever he wants to. Moreover, Kubrick shows the exaggerated long shadows of Alex and his gang after they beat an old beggar (Kubrick, Figure 4). This scene connotes both the lack of state authority and power of criminals in society. Kubrick depicts the chaotic atmosphere in Burgess’s literary narrative through long shadows, connoting its power and domination in society.

Figure 3

Figure 4

Due to the weakness of state authority and the inadequacy of police forces, the government cannot effectively deal with crime. Though the government tries to maintain control, it mostly fails. Even Post-Corrective Advisers cannot be sufficiently effective in a society with many crimes and criminals. When P. R. Deltoid, Alex’s Post-Corrective Adviser, learns that his gang and Billy Boys gang have fought, he comes to Alex’s house and warns him to stay out of trouble, as “I’m warning you, little Alex, to keep your handsome young proboscis out of the dirt” (Burgess 25). P. R. Deltoid’s words are explicit recommendations that authorities are aware of their actions and that they should be prudent. In addition, he underlines “Just watch it; that’s all, yes. We know more than you think, little Alex” (Burgess 25). This phrase is seen as a plain warning; nevertheless, it connotes an implicit threat, reinforcing the idea that Alex and his gang are always under surveillance. This implicit threat corresponds to panoptic surveillance, which implements the government’s authority through the psychological pressure of omnipresent observation. With the implication of surveillance, the all-seeing eye is positioned as a semiotic myth that functions as an individual act of monitoring, and as a broader ideological construct. The all-seeing eye myth is built on the belief that authority is invisible, omnipresent, and omnipotent. Foucault describes this as “omnipresent surveillance, capable of making all visible, as long as it could itself remain invisible” (Foucault 214).

Even though Alex opposes state authority, he also suffers from the absence of authority and discipline in his gang. He expresses his disturbance as “[t]here has to be a leader. Discipline there has to be. Right?” (Burgess 20). However, the discipline should be within his own gang, not within the society in which he lives. With this stance, Alex echoes Foucault’s rhetoric that power is everywhere, he also positions himself as a “judge of normality” within his gang, wanting to become the all-seeing eye. This desire shows that the myth of the all-seeing eye is profoundly ingrained, as even those who oppose it, become its agents. As Foucault contends, “[t]he judges of normality are present everywhere” (Foucault 304), but the normality can be redefined by different communities or ideologies as seen in Alex’s gang. To become the leader, the all-seeing eye within his gang, Alex attacks his friends and cuts off Georgie’s hand and Dim’s foot with his knife. After the fight, Alex verbally underlines his authority by stating, “so they knew now who was master and leader, sheep, thought I” (Burgess 33). Alex becomes a representation of the all-seeing eye and authority by disciplining his gang. His transformation into a figure of authority is represented by focusing a bloody eye symbol on Alex’s wrist in the movie (Kubrick, Figure 5). Kubrick constructed Alex’s authority by drawing attention to the bloody eye symbols through visual symbolism. Despite all of his efforts to discipline his gang and impose his authority, he gets caught because of the betrayal of his friends. After the trial, he is sentenced to fourteen years in prison, and in Alex’s words, this is “the tragic part of the story beginning” (Burgess 44). The prison where Alex is sent is quite similar to Bentham’s model of the panopticon. Prisoners are completely under surveillance by ruthless guards, who use violence to discipline them. Similarly, in the movie, the prison architecture chosen by Kubrick is remarkable because the prison building bears strong structural similarities to Bentham’s panopticon model. The aerial view of the prison shows that the building has five wings with a tower at the centre; this tower opens onto the inner side of the wings (Kubrick, Figure 6) and as Foucault asserts, “[a]ll that is needed, then, is to place a supervisor in a central tower and to shut up in each cell a madman, a patient, a condemned man” (Foucault 200). Even though Kubrick’s building does not directly copy the circular structure of Bentham’s prison, the prison yards mimic his panoptic design, where prisoners spin around endlessly (Kubrick, Figure 7). This design makes surveillance more effective; it provides a punitive environment where prisoners are under control rather than a rehabilitative space. Thus, Kubrick embodies the connotative power of surveillance, control, and discipline through his visual representation of prison.

Figure 5

Figure 6

Figure 7

Similar to the prison building, the architecture of the treatment centre was also designed as a panoptic model. According to the new government, old techniques are insufficient to discipline criminals; therefore, they decide to use an experimental treatment called the Ludovico Technique, which aims to internally implant prisoners with an omnipotent behaviour-modification system—an artificial panoptic gaze. This technique is based on the classical conditioning theory of Russian physiologist Ivan Petrovich Pavlov (1927). The Ludovico Technique includes the disciplinary structure of Foucault’s panopticon:

As in Foucault’s definition, the panopticon can be used as a laboratory to carry out experiments on prisoners; therefore, the minister of the interior visits the prison to find a proper subject for this treatment, and thus Alex becomes a volunteer and is taken to the treatment centre. The stage is positioned during the treatment so Alex can be seen from every angle under the shined spotlights to maintain the panoptic gaze. He is the central point of surveillance on the stage, while doctors are positioned in a dark, upper place. Since Alex is straitjacketed and strapped to the cinema chair in the middle of the scene, he cannot see the doctors behind the wall but knows that they are monitoring him. The wall represents the “inspector’s lodge” (Bentham 29), where criminals are constantly monitored in Bentham’s panopticon. Alex describes the centre as “and in the middle of the floor facing the screen was like a dentist’s chair with all lengths of wire running from it … I noticed that underneath the projection holes was like all frosted glass and I thought I viddied shadows of like people moving behind it” (Burgess 57). Although Alex is not in a cell, the chair is designed like a prison cell that provides constant visibility and enables imposing atrocity films by immobilising him. This treatment precisely overlaps the significant effect of the panopticon “to induce in the inmate a state of conscious and permanent visibility that assures the automatic functioning of power” (Foucault 201). Alex has no freedom to move and is under the supervision of doctors who constantly observe every behaviour and reaction. Although Alex forces himself to close his eyes not to watch the films, the eye clips do not allow him to move his eyelids. This symbolic inability demonstrates that his authority is taken by the doctors and subverts the power of the all-seeing eye insofar as he is now forced to see all instead of being able to. Burgess conveys the representation of the all-seeing eye and its disciplining methods to the reader in Alex’s words, “when they put like clips on the skin of my forehead, so that my top glazz-lids were pulled up and up and up and I could not shut my glazzies no matter how I tried…. not able to move nor shut his glazzies nor anything” (Burgess 58).

Burgess’s textual representation of the panopticon and the all-seeing eye is embodied in Kubrick’s cinematographic representation. Kubrick designs a movie theatre in which Alex is in the centre of the scene under the shined spotlights (Kubrick, Figure 8). Kubrick’s scene explicitly connotes the panopticon and the authority of the doctors over Alex, and his visual representation underlines the all-seeing eye myth, which is the government’s omnipresent power. Both verbal and visual descriptions of the treatment centre and the Ludovico Technique perfectly represent the features of the panopticon as Foucault describes:

Figure 8

Through the lens of Foucault’s panopticon, the Ludovico Technique is a disciplinary mechanism forcing individuals into submission. The doctors act as agents of authority and so of the state’s power. They play a crucial role in transforming an individual into a machine to harmonise the individual with social order. In doing so, they do not avoid inflicting pain upon the individual. As seen in Alex’s expression:

Furthermore, the doctors consciously ignore Alex’s physical and psychological pain, imitating the complacency of prison guards towards inmates in Bentham’s panopticon. Their outright mockery and almost sadistic behaviours show their unwavering commitment and participation in the state’s authority. As Alex pleads, “[p]lease let me be sick. Please bring something for me to be sick into.” Dr. Brodsky’s deprecating response, “Imagination only. You’ve nothing to worry about” emphasises the doctor’s insensitivity to his pain. Even in Alex’s peak point, crying “Please, please stop it! I can’t stand anymore,” Dr. Brodsky’s callous reply, “‘Stop it? Stop it, did you say? Why, we’ve hardly started’. And he and the others smecked quite loud” (Burgess 60). This shows the doctors’ active participation in this systemic cruel discipline and control. While on a denotative level, the Ludovico Technique depicts a state-sanctioned rehabilitation programme, it connotes dehumanisation, discipline and institutional violence. Alex’s despair signals his lack of control, abuse and medical torture whereas the doctors’ behaviours connote the absolute power which deprives of subjects’ autonomy by manipulating and forcing them. Furthermore, the Ludovico Technique aligns with the all-seeing eye myth as a surveillance and discipline mechanism. It demonstrates that subjects under surveillance cannot evade ideological indoctrination of any sort of power. The treatment deposits in Alex an unignorable inner panoptic gaze, an artificial all-seeing eye that continuously monitors and controls him. Eventually, Alex’s inner panoptic gaze transforms him into a submissive and obedient citizen as the government demands.

The textual depiction of the all-seeing eye in terms of the panoptic gaze is visually amplified in Kubrick’s adaptation by directly quoting from the novel. The most striking and obtrusive depiction is the forced exposure of Alex’s eyes as a direct representation of the all-seeing eye. The metal eye clips pinning Alex’s eyes open represent enforced obedience and demonstrate that the state’s power physically and psychologically overrides his free will (Kubrick, Figure 9). By displaying every second of the doctor inserting the clips into Alex’s eyes, Kubrick visually underscores that the authority has total domination over Alex’s body and mind. It forces him to submit (Kubrick, Figure 10).

Figure 9

Figure 10

Furthermore, his surreal eye makeup—the visual representation of Alex’s authority—is no longer presented after he is imprisoned. Since Kubrick reflects Alex’s domination and authority through his surreal eye, he conveys Alex’s pain and loss of authority on the screen, especially by taking a close-up shot of his eye. This shift represents his transformation from an oppressor to a submissive oppressed subject. Since Alex’s eyes are not merely an organ but a symbol of surveillance, discipline and domination, Kubrick displays a striking scene in which Alex’s eyelids are forcibly held open, almost tearing apart, representing the doctors’ and the state’s domination over him (Kubrick, Figure 11). This scene illustrates that his eyes become both the object and the apparatus of his conditioning, and consequently he is rehabilitated by medical torture and manipulation.

Figure 11

Additionally, the government employs religion as another disciplinary mechanism to regulate prisoners, and thus, the religious discourse functions as the all-seeing eye myth that imposes unceasing surveillance and control. Every Sunday, the prison chaplain preaches and reads Bible passages to the prisoners. He underlines that the all-seeing eye of God is constantly watching them, and he warns that those who fail to obey God’s will are going to suffer eternal damnation in hell. In the chaplain’s sermon, the all-seeing eye takes on a dual function: it is a magnanimous guide for the obedient and a punitive power for those who disobey authority. Alex narrates the existence of eternal damnation and the punishments as, “yes, incontrovertible evidence that hell exists … I have been informed in visions that there is a place, darker than any prison, hotter than any flame of human fire, where souls of unrepentant criminal sinners like yourselves … listen to the Word of the Lord” (Burgess 46).

During the prison chaplain’s sermon, Kubrick displays his intense stare and angry expression, filling the entire screen (Kubrick, Figure 12). This close-up shot illustrates the visual representation of the all-seeing eye. The prison chaplain becomes the sequence’s focal point, indicating his authority and omnipotence. Through this framing, Kubrick portrays the chaplain as a religious leader and a figure of divine power and authority. The all-encompassing image of the chaplain represents the absolute control and surveillance of the external panoptic gaze. The prison chaplain does not solely embody the representation of the all-seeing eye. In addition to him, divine surveillance is represented by the prison guards who enforce the disciplinary regulations. While prisoners listen to the chaplain’s sermon and sing, the guards always monitor. During the sermon, the guards immediately punish prisoners who misbehave and those who do not sing aloud. The attitude of the guards during this surveillance process is narrated in the book as, “[s]top talking there, bastards. I’m watching you, 920537…. then hitting out nasty and delivering tolchocks, left and right…. Louder, damn you, sing up … Just you wait, 7749222” (Burgess 46–47).

Figure 12

Kubrick employs camera positioning to display the hierarchical structure of authority during the prison chaplain’s sermon. His mise-en-scène reflects different layers of power in prison. While the prisoners are positioned at the lowest level, the guards are placed above them. The prison chaplain, as a representation of the divine eye, is placed at the highest position, where he can monitor and dominate everyone (Kubrick, Figure 13). This composition constructs the all-seeing eye myth in which prisoners are under physical and psychological surveillance, and the presence of religious references, mainly the crucifix, connotes that surveillance is legitimised not only through the state authority but also divine power.

Figure 13

The guards’ attitude towards prisoners shows that the all-seeing eye myth evolves into a systemic disciplinary structure through surveillance by a divine eye. The most extreme application of this systemic disciplinary structure is seen in Alex’s rehabilitation. The Ludovico Technique embedded a panoptic gaze, an all-seeing eye, in Alex’s mind, and thus he not only incorporates the government’s rules but also regulates his behaviours. Alex, transformed into an ideal citizen by rehabilitation and disciplining, no longer dares to disrupt the social order or commit crimes. Since the Ludovico conditioning has artificially instilled internal surveillance, a panoptic gaze into Alex’s mind, his self-regulation no longer depends on external factors, such as physical restraints, guards, doctors or eye clips. When Alex realises that he has no power over his free will or behaviours due to the Ludovico treatment, he desperately questions his identity and humanity: “Am I like just some animal or dog? … Am I just to be like a clockwork orange?” (Burgess 72). This enforced self-control aligns with the primary objective of the panopticon, as Foucault states, “a state of conscious and permanent visibility that assures the automatic functioning of power” (Foucault 201).

The automatic functioning of power over Alex is explicitly seen in the final test, where various state members observe the effectiveness of the Ludovico Treatment. To present his inability to respond despite his violent urges, Alex is physically tortured and provoked by an actor in the scene, and unsurprisingly he cannot respond. However, he does not intentionally avoid violence, he cannot use his free will since his mind has been conditioned to associate any sort of violence with physical pain. Although he envisions attacking the actor who provokes and tortures him, he forces himself to abandon his violent thoughts because of unbearable physical pain. Alex expresses this contradiction as:

Similarly, this contradiction is seen in the second test as well, which reveals Alex’s sexual urges. An attractive actress is brought to the scene, and though Alex overwhelmingly desires to rape her, the sickness instantly shows up and forces him to change his thoughts. Alex defines this sickness “like a like detective that had been watching round a corner and now followed to make his grahzny arrest” (Burgess 73). The final test demonstrates the transformation of the external all-seeing eye into an internalised panoptic gaze which always monitors him. Alex’s autonomy is entirely despoiled and not only his body but also his mind is obliged to operate in absolute obedience due to the constant surveillance and punishment. This panoptic gaze in his mind pursues him everywhere and in every condition. In another powerful demonstration of his panoptic gaze, after Alex is released from prison, he is beaten up by the members of his gang and elderly people in the library. However, he prefers to endure the beating than experience the painful punishment of the treatment and he becomes a victim of those he once oppressed. As Alex confesses, “I daren’t do a solitary single veshch, O my brothers, it being better to be hit at like that than to want to sick and feel that horrible pain” (Burgess 82). That Alex cannot defend himself, resist or even retaliate points out the depth of his conditioning, which enforces automatic subjugation and the continuity of control.

Conclusion

In A Clockwork Orange, the all-seeing eye myth embodies the idea of authority, control, discipline and surveillance, represented by the doctors who apply the Ludovico Technique, the guards, the prison chaplain, the police officers, and ultimately the state. Although all these figures differ in terms of their functions or methods, their collective purpose is to sustain authority. Consolidating these various forms of authority, the state aims to exert absolute control over criminals. The prison chaplain represents God’s eye, the guards function as the brutal side of power, the doctors enforce discipline and the state signifies absolute authority. In this regard, the Ludovico Technique is the most substantial representation of the all-seeing eye myth in terms of surveillance and discipline since it creates an internalised prison in Alex’s psyche, unlike the traditional punishments. Through the Ludovico Technique, external authorities are eliminated to sustain discipline, and an omnipresent and omnipotent internal inspector is implanted within Alex. This inspector functions in complete accordance with the expectations of the state and it demonstrates the “perfection of power” that Foucault emphasises:

As Foucault states, an external all-seeing eye or discipline mechanism is not required, since Alex becomes the instrument of his control or bearer. Barthes says, “[m]yth is a type of speech, a system of communication” (Barthes, Mythologies 107). This system of communication is meticulously constructed in A Clockwork Orange through both textual and visual representations. Burgess integrates the all-seeing eye myth into his narrative by recurring to particular signifiers such as authority, surveillance, discipline and control. On the other hand, Kubrick strengthens this myth through literal and symbolic eye symbols, reinterpreting it by his idiosyncratic cinematographic techniques. Hence, he visually translates and further amplifies Burgess’s textual representation of the all-seeing eye.

Although both the novel and the film present the all-seeing eye myth through various narrative techniques, both works address how this myth is embodied in different figures of society and reinterpreted by these authority figures. “The idea that today’s surveillance is like ‘God’s eye in the sky’” (Lyon 30) is explicitly revealing in this context because the authority figures behind the all-seeing eye always mimic the divine gaze and position themselves as an omnipotent power. When considering the shifts in the meaning of the all-seeing eye based on belief systems and power dynamics throughout history, the all-seeing eye has evolved into more than just a symbol of surveillance in the modern era. It became the epitome of a disciplinary mechanism exerting its control through a subject’s free will. Therefore, ideological and scientifically-advanced manipulation, surveillance, discipline, and control operate as significant representations of the all-seeing eye myth. In this regard, both works present a profound textual and visual commentary on how the all-seeing eye functions as an apparatus of oppression and a reflection of disciplinary mechanisms.

Competing Interests

The author has no competing interests to declare.