Пролетая над гнездом кукушки

           Hardinglaceshisfingersbehindhisneckandleansbacktolookatthedoor."That’stheShockShopIwastellingyouaboutsometimeback,myfriend,theEST,Electro-ShockTherapy.Thosefortunatesoulsintherearebeinggivenafreetriptothemoon.No,onsecondthought,itisn’tcompletelyfree.Youpayfortheservicewithbraincellsinsteadofmoney,andeveryonehassimplybillionsofbraincellsondeposit.Youwon’tmissafew."

           Hefrownsattheonelonemanleftonthebench."Notaverylargeclienteletoday,itseems,nothinglikethecrowdsofyesteryear.Butthen,c’estlavie,fadscomeandgo.AndI’mafraidwearewitnessingthesunsetofEST.OurdearheadnurseisoneofthefewwiththehearttostandupforagrandoldFaulkneriantraditioninthetreatmentoftherejectsofsanity:BrainBurning."

           Thedooropens.AGurneycomeswhirringout,nobodypushingit,takesthecornerontwowheelsanddisappearssmokingupthehall.McMurphywatchesthemtakethelastguyinandclosethedoor.

           "Whattheydois"—McMurphylistensamoment—"takesomebirdinthereandshootelectricitythroughhisskull?"

           "That’saconcisewayofputtingit."

           "Whatthehellfor?"

           "Why,thepatient’sgood,ofcourse.Everythingdonehereisforthepatient’sgood.Youmaysometimesgettheimpression,havinglivedonlyonourward,thatthehospitalisavastefficientmechanismthatwouldfunctionquitewellifthepatientwerenotimposedonit,butthat’snottrue.