The Binding (Les Livres d’Emmett Farmer) – Bridget Collins

27 dimanche Oct 2019

Posted by Aurélie in En VO, Romans étrangers

Étiquettes

Bridget Collins, Critique de livre, idées de lecture, JC Lattès, lecture, Les Livres d'Emmett Farmer, Livre, quoi lire, Rentrée littéraire 2019, roman, The Binding, The Borough Press

Les premières phrases

« When the letter came I was out in the fields, binding up my last sheaf of wheat with hands that were shaking so much I could hardly tie the knot. It was my fault we’d had to do it the old-fashioned way, and I’d be damned if I was going to give up now; I had battled through the heat of the afternoon, blinking away the patches of darkness that flickered at the sides of my vision, and now it was nightfall and I was almost finished. The others had left when the sun set, calling goodbyes over their shoulders, and I was glad. At least now I was alone I didn’t have to pretend I could work at the same pace as them. »

Circonstances de lecture

Parce que : cette couverture (bien plus belle dans la version originale que dans la version française) !!!!!

Impressions

Voici un roman poétique, empreint de magie, qui délivre petit à petit ses secrets. Tout commence quand le jeune Emmett Farmer reçoit une lettre au retour d’une journée passée à travailler dans les champs, le contraignant à commencer son apprentissage d’ « enlivreur » auprès d’une vieille femme, Seredith. Sortant d’une maladie qui a considérablement réduit ses forces, Emmett n’a pas le choix, il doit accepter de devenir « enlivreur », un métier dont tout le monde se méfie. Car dans les livres qu’il relie, se cachent les souvenirs que les clients de Seredith veulent oublier, en même temps que leurs souffrances, leurs remords ou encore leur sentiment de culpabilité.

Construit en trois parties, ce roman à tiroirs prend une toute autre tournure dans son second volet, prenant le lecteur par surprise et remettant en cause tout ce qu’il a lu jusque-là. Mais je ne vous en dis pas plus au risque de trop en dévoiler ! Une belle lecture, autour de la magie, de la culpabilité, de l’oubli et aussi une très belle histoire d’amour.

Bridget Collins – The Binding – janvier 2019 (The Borough Press) / Les Livres d’Emmett Farmer – 16 octobre 2019 (JC Lattès)

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Dans la toile du temps – Adrian Tchaikovsky

11 mercredi Juil 2018

Posted by Aurélie in En VO, Romans étrangers, SF

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Étiquettes

Adrian Tchaikovsky, Children of Time, Critique de livre, Dans la toile du temps, Denoël, Editions Denoël, idées de lecture, lecture, Livre, quoi lire, roman, SF

Les premières phrases

« There were no windows in the Brin 2 facility – rotation meant that « outside » was always « down », underfoot, out of mind. The wall screens told a pleasant fiction, a composite view of the world below that ignored their constant spin, showing the planet as hanging stationary-still off in space: the green marble to match the blue marble of home, twenty light years away. Earth had been green, in her day, though her colours had faded since. Perhaps never as green as this beautifully crafted world though, where even the oceans glittererd emerald with the phytoplankton maintaining the oxygen balance within its atmosphere. How delicate and many-sided was the task of building a living monument that would remain stable for geological ages to come.

It had no officially confirmed name beyond its astronomical designation, although there was a strong vote for « Simiana » amongst some of the less imaginative crewmembers. Doctor Avrana Kern now looked out upon it and thought only of Kern’s World. Her project, her dream, her planet. The first of many, she decided.

This is the future. This is where mankind takes its next great step. This is where we become gods. »

Circonstances de lecture

Parce qu’on me l’a prêté. Lu en VO (Children of Time).

Impressions

Voilà un gros coup de cœur SF ! La Terre est au plus mal. Pour survivre, des scientifiques sont partis coloniser d’autres planètes pour les modeler à l’image de la Terre. Ils y parviennent presque, envoyant un groupe de singes ainsi qu’un nanovirus censé les faire évoluer rapidement pour qu’ils préparent la planète Kern à l’arrivée des hommes. Mais voilà, l’expérience tourne mal, le vaisseau conduisant les singes est victime d’un acte de terrorisme et le nanovirus trouve refuge auprès d’une autre espèce : les araignées !

Deux mille ans plus tard, grâce à la cryogénisation, la scientifique à l’origine de la terraformation veille du haut de sa capsule spatiale sur sa création, le monde de Kern, quand un vaisseau spatial abritant les derniers humains approche et demande à atterrir sur Kern… La narration alterne alors entre les humains et les araignées et le lecteur a bien du mal à prendre partie, tant les deux points de vue sont compréhensibles. On ne sait plus qui soutenir, des humains survivants désireux de trouver un abri, ou des araignées évoluées, conscientes et intelligentes souhaitant sauvegarder leur monde. On parvient à s’attacher aussi bien aux humains (notamment l’ingénieure Isa Lain et l’historien-linguiste Holsten Mason, que l’on retrouve chapitre après chapitre, à plusieurs centaines d’années d’intervalle, lors de leurs différents réveils cryogéniques), qu’aux araignées auxquelles Adrian Tchaikovsky donne le même nom, génération après génération, en fonction de leur personnalité (Portia, Bianca et Fabian).

Ce livre d’Adrian Tchaikovsky offre à voir l’évolution d’une espèce sur des milliers d’années. Véritablement passionnant ! Il offre aussi une belle réflexion sur l’humanisme, les croyances, la tolérance, l’incompréhension, l’empathie, le langage, l’égalité des sexes (les araignées sont basées sur une société matriarcale au détriment des mâles) et l’intelligence artificielle. Un GROS coup de cœur, d’autant que la fin est tout simplement géniale !

Un passage parmi d’autres

But of course, there is only one vital question. Portia wonders if Bianca will actually canvass anyone else’s opinion in the end, or whether she will simply send off her own demand to God to prevent anyone else doing likewise. It must be a great temptation to every other spider with access to a transmitter.

What Bianca asks is this :

« What does it mean that you are there and we are here? Is there meaning or is it random chance? » Because what else does one ask even a broken cybernetic deity but, « Why are we here? ».

Adrian Tchaikosvky – avril 2018 (Éditions Denoël)

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One Of Us is Lying – Karen M. McManus

12 samedi Mai 2018

Posted by Aurélie in En VO, Jeunesse, Policiers / Thrillers, Romans étrangers

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Étiquettes

Critique de livre, idées de lecture, Karen M. McManus, lecture, Livre, One of us is lying, Penguin Books, quoi lire, roman, Thriller, Young Adult

Les premières phrases

« A sex tape. A pregnancy scare. Two cheating scandals. And that’s just this week’s update. If all you knew of Bayview High was Simon Kelleher’s gossip app, you’d wonder how anyone found time to go to class.

« Old news, Bronwyn, » says a voice over my shoulder. « Wait till you see tomorrow’s post. »

Damn. I hate getting caught reading About That, especially by its creator. I lower my phone and slam my locker shut. « Whose lives are you ruining next, Simon? »

Simon falls into step beside me as I move against the flow of students heading for the exit. « It’s a public service, » he says with a dismissive wave. « You tutor Reggie Crawley, don’t you? Wouldn’t you rather know he has a camera in his bedroom? »

I don’t bother answering. Me getting anywhere near the bedroom of perpetual stoner Reggie Crawley is about as likely as Simon growing a conscience. »

Circonstances de lecture

Parce qu’une amie me l’a recommandé.

Impressions

Cinq lycéens se retrouvent en heure de colle. L’un d’eux meurt empoisonné, Simon, le créateur d’une appli dévoilant les secrets de ses camarades de classe. Les quatre autres deviennent automatiquement les suspects numéro un. Car chacun aurait bien une raison de le voir mort…

Karen M. McManus nous entraîne ici dans une enquête pleine de suspens. Chaque chapitre dévoile le point de vue d’un des suspects. Une lecture addictive jusqu’aux toutes dernières pages. A lire !

Un passage parmi d’autres

« She’s a princess and you’re a jock, »he says. He thrusts his chin toward Bronwyn, then at Nate. « And you’re a brain. And you’re a criminal. You’re all walking teen-movie stereotypes. »

« What about you? » Bronwyn asks. She’s been hovering near the window, but now goes to her desk and perches on top of it. She crosses her legs and pulls her dark ponytail over one shoulder. Something about her is cuter this year. New glasses, maybe? Longer hair? All of a sudden, she’s kind of working this sexy-nerd thing.

« I’m the omniscient narrator, » Simon says.

Bronwyn’s brows rise above her black frames. « There’s no such thing in teen movies. »

« Ah, but Bronwyn. » Simon winks and chugs his water in one long gulp. « There is such a thing in life. »

Karen M. McManus – One Of Us is Lying – mai 2017 (Penguin Books)

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The Burning Girl – Claire Messud

20 lundi Nov 2017

Posted by Aurélie in En VO, Romans étrangers

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Étiquettes

Claire Messud, Critique de livre, idées de lecture, lecture, Livre, quoi lire, roman, The Burning Girl, W.W. Norton & Company

Les premières phrases

« You’d think it wouldn’t bother me now. The Burneses moved away long ago. Two years have passed. But still, I can’t lie in the sun on the boulders at the quarry’s edge, or dangle my toes in the cold, clear water, or hear the other girls singing, without being aware the whole time that Cassie is gone. And then I want to say something – but you can’t, you know. It’s like she never existed. »

Circonstances de lecture

Parce que j’ai été attirée par la couverture et les premières lignes de ce roman.

Impressions

Si vous aimez l’univers de Nina LaCour, ce livre de Claire Messud devrait vous plaire. « The Burning Girl » traite de l’amitié entre deux adolescentes, une amitié a priori inébranlable et qui va pourtant s’étioler petit à petit. Parce que si Julia a les pieds sur terre, Cassie a du mal à trouver sa place dans cette société, et lorsque sa mère tombe amoureuse, sa vie est chamboulée… Voici un livre plein d’émotions sur les affres de l’adolescence, les raisons qui font qu’une amitié peut s’évaporer, et le ressenti de deux jeunes filles face à des événements sur lesquels elles n’ont pas de prise. Une très belle plume et une histoire pleine de mystères.

Un passage parmi d’autres

To be in that ruin with Cassie – it was such a particular feeling that I have had nowhere else. If ever I have it again, I will recognize it, like a long-lost scent, and that afternoon and the one that followed will return to me, in all their visceral intensity. The Bonnybrook was at once the most unlikely, vivid experience of our lives up till then, and like a dream – a dream, miraculously, that Cassie and I dreamed in tandem, touching, hearing, and feeling together. The asylym was darkened by the traces of its pasts; made titillating, even scary, by its silences – but made safer too by our sharing it. Being in the Bonnybrook was like being inside both Cassie’s head and my own, as if we had one mind and could roam its limits together, inventing stories and making ourselves as we wanted them to be.

Claire Messud – The Burning Girl – septembre 2017 (W.W. Norton & Company)

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Daughter of the Burning City – Amanda Foody

09 lundi Oct 2017

Posted by Aurélie in En VO, Romans étrangers

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Étiquettes

Amanda Foody, Critique de livre, Daughter of the Burning City, FairyLoot, idées de lecture, lecture, Livre, quoi lire, roman, Young Adult

Les premières phrases

« I peek from behind the tattered velvet curtains at the chattering audience, their mouths full of candied pineapple and kettle corn. With their pale faces flushed from excitement and the heat, they look as gullible as dandelions, much like the patrons in the past five cities. The Gomorrah Festival hasn’t been permitted to travel this far north in the Up-Mountains in over three years, and these people look like they’re attending the opera or the theater rather than our traveling carnival of debauchery.

The women wear frilly dresses in burnt golds and oranges, buckled to the point of suffocation, some with rosy-cheeked children bouncing on their laps, others with cleavage as high as their chins. The men have shoulder pads to seem broader, stilted loafers to seem taller and painted silver pocket watches to seem richer.

If buckles, stilts and paint are enough to hoodwink them, then they won’t notice that the eight « freaks » of my freak show are, in fact, only one. »

Circonstances de lecture

Livre reçu avec ma première FairyLoot Box !

Impressions

Rien que la couverture donne envie de se plonger dans ce roman Young Adult ! Une belle édition reçue dans ma box FairyLoot. Un véritable plaisir de lecture aussi. Amanda Foody plonge le lecteur dans l’univers déjanté d’un festival itinérant aux allures de ville maléfique. Son héroïne, Sorina, est la fille adoptive du propriétaire du Festival de Gomorrah. Elle est née sans yeux, ce qui ne l’empêche pas de voir le monde aussi bien que tout autre être humain. Et elle possède un don : celui de pouvoir créer des illusions plus vraies que nature. Elle s’est ainsi créée une famille, chaque membre étant doté de particularités dignes d’un « Freak Show ». Tout se passe pour le mieux, jusqu’au jour où l’une de ses illusions est retrouvée assassinée. Mais comment est-il possible de tuer une illusion ? Et qui a commis ce crime ? Commence alors une course poursuite pour déterminer qui en veut à sa famille et pourquoi.

J’ai aimé l’univers immersif empreint de magie qu’a imaginé Amanda Foody. Vivement son deuxième roman !

Un passage parmi d’autres

Nicoleta jabbers a spiel about the wonders of my sight, as if my lack of eyes allows me to see more than everyone else. Between my forehead and cheekbones is flat skin, but I can see just the same as the rest of the world. I’m an illusion-worker, the rarest form of jynx-worker, gifted in mirages real enough to touch, smell, hear and taste. My most intricate illusions are my family and the other members of the freak show: living figments of my imagination.

I’ve never met another illusion-worker – only read about them – but as far as I know, I am the only one born without eyes who relies on my jynx-work to see. No doctor or medicine man can explain how this works. Maybe I don’t see like everyone else does – it’s not as if I could test that out – but I see, color and all, and I’m not the one to question things I don’t really need answers to.

Amanda Foody – Daughter of the Burning City – juin 2017 (Harlequin Teen)

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The Handmaid’s Tale – Margaret Atwood

30 samedi Sep 2017

Posted by Aurélie in En VO, Romans étrangers, SF

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Étiquettes

Critique de livre, idées de lecture, lecture, Livre, Margaret Atwood, quoi lire, roman, The Handmaid's Tale, Vintage

Les premières phrases

« We slept in what had once been the gymnasium. The floor was of varnished wood, with stripes and circles painted on it, for the games that were formerly played there; the hoops for the basketball nets were still in place, though the nets were gone. A balcony ran around the room, for the spectators, and I thought I could smell, faintly like an afterimage, the pungent scent of sweat, shot through with the sweet taint of chewing gum and perfume from the watching girls, felt-skirted as I knew from pictures, later in mini-skirts, then pants, then in one earring, spiky green-streaked hair. Dances would have been held there; the music lingered, a palimpsest of unheard sound, style upon style, an undercurrent of drums, a forlorn wail, garlands made of tissue-paper flowers, cardboard devils, a revolving ball of mirrors, powdering the dancers with a snow of light. »

Circonstances de lecture

Parce que ce livre fait énormément parler de lui depuis son adaptation en série TV et l’arrivée de Donald Trump au pouvoir aux Etats-Unis.

Impressions

Avec « The Handmaid’s Tale » (« La Servante Écarlate »), Margaret Atwood nous entraîne dans une société américaine où les femmes se voient privées de toute liberté. Offred fait partie de la caste des « servantes », autrement dit elle est réduite au rôle de mère porteuse. Tout plaisir sexuel est prohibé. Sa seule « distraction » : sortir faire les courses alimentaires de la maison du Commandant qu’elle sert en compagnie d’une autre servante. Lire, écrire, se divertir sont tout simplement interdits.

J’ai aimé cette dystopie, même si le récit est assez lent et même si j’attendais un peu plus d’action et une conclusion moins ouverte. Un bon roman de SF, publié en 1986, qui fait réfléchir sur l’évolution possible de nos sociétés et de la condition des femmes.

Un passage parmi d’autres

The Japanese tourists come towards us, twittering, and we turn our heads away too late: our faces have been seen (…)

The interpreter turns back to the group, chatters at them in staccato. I know what he’ll be saying, I know the line. He’ll be telling them that the women here have different customs, that to stare at them through the lens of a camera is, for them, an experience of violation.

I’m looking down, at the sidewalk, mesmerized by the women’s feet. One of them is wearing open-toed sandals, the toenails painted pink. I remember the smell of nail polish, the way it wrinkled if you put the second coat on too soon, the satiny brushing of sheer pantyhose against the skin, the way the toes felt, pushed towards the opening in the shoe by the whole weight of the body. The woman with painted toes shifts from one foot to the other. I can feel her shoes, on my own feet. The smell of nail polish has made me hungry.

« Excuse me, » says the interpreter again, to catch our attention. I nod, to show I’ve heard him.

« He asks, are you happy, » says the interpreter. I can imagine it, their curiosity: Are they happy ? How can they be happy? I can feel their bright black eyes on us, the way they lean a little forward to catch our answers, the women especially, but the men too: we are secret, forbidden, we excite them.

Ofglen says nothing. There is a silence. But sometimes it’s as dangerous not to speak.

« Yes, we are very happy, » I murmur. I have to say something. What else can I say?

Margaret Atwood – The Handmaid’s Tale – 1986 (Vintage)

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Hold still – Nina LaCour

16 mercredi Août 2017

Posted by Aurélie in En VO, Romans étrangers

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Étiquettes

Critique de livre, hold still, idées de lecture, lecture, Livre, Nina LaCour, Penguin, quoi lire, roman, Speak

Les premières phrases

» I watch drops of water fall from the ends of my hair. They streak down my towel, puddle on the sofa cushion. My heart pounds so hard I can feel it in my ears.

“Sweetheart. Listen.”

Mom says Ingrid’s name and I start to hum, not the melody to a song, just one drawn-out note. I know it makes me seem crazy, I know it won’t make anything change, but it’s better than crying, it’s better than screaming, it’s better than listening to what they’re telling me.

Something is smashing my chest—an anchor, gravity. Soon I’ll cave in on myself. I stumble upstairs and yank on the jeans and tank top I wore yesterday. Then I’m out the door, up the street, around the corner to the bus stop. Dad calls my name but I don’t shout back. Instead, I step onto the bus just as its doors are shutting. I find a seat in the back and ride away, through Los Cerros and through the next town, until I’m on an unfamiliar street, and that’s where I get off. I sit on the bench at the bus stop, try to slow my breathing. The light here is different, bluer. A smiling mom with a baby in a stroller glides past me. A tree branch moves in the breeze. I try to be as light as air. »

Circonstances de lecture

Parce que j’avais adoré « We are Okay » du même auteur.

Impressions

Nina LaCour sait décrire les émotions avec une grande justesse. Comme dans « We are Okay », on se met très vite à la place de son héroïne et on a bien du mal à lâcher ce roman. Ici, Caitlin essaie de reprendre le chemin du lycée après le suicide de sa meilleure amie, Ingrid. Reprendre goût à la vie après une telle perte relève du parcours du combattant. Et lorsque Caitlin découvre le journal d’Ingrid, caché sous son lit, elle commence petit à petit à entrevoir la face cachée de sa meilleure amie. Une très belle histoire d’amitié et de survie.

Un passage parmi d’autres

I get down on the carpet to look under my bed. I stick my arm under and feel around, find a couple mismatched socks, and something I don’t recognize—hard and flat and dusty. I pull it out, thinking maybe it’s a yearbook from elementary school, and then I see it and my heart stops.

Ingrid’s journal.

For some reason, I feel afraid. It’s like I’m split down the middle and one half of me wants to open it more than I’ve ever wanted to do anything. The other half is so scared. I can’t stop shaking.

Did it get kicked under the bed one night by accident?

Did she hide it?

I stare at it in my hands forever, just feeling its weight, looking at the place where one Wite-Out wing is starting to flake off. Then, once my hands are steadied, I open to the first page. It’s a drawing of her face—yellow hair; blue eyes; small, crooked smile. She’s looking straight ahead. Birds fly across the background. She drew them blurry, to show movement, and across the top she wrote, Me on a Sunday Morning.

I turn the page.

As I read, I can hear Ingrid’s voice, hushed and fast, like she’s telling me secrets.

Nina LaCour – Hold still – 2010 (Speak)

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We are okay – Nina LaCour

21 dimanche Mai 2017

Posted by Aurélie in En VO, Romans étrangers

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Étiquettes

conseils de lecture, Critique de livre, Dutton Books, idées de lecture, Livres, Nina LaCour, Penguin Random House, quoi lire, We are okay

Les premières phrases

» Before Hannah left, she asked if I was sure I’d be okay. She had already waited an hour past when the doors were closed for winter break, until everyone but the custodians were gone. She had folded a load of laundry, written an email, searched her massive psychology textbook for answers to the final exam questions to see if she had gotten them right. She had run out of ways to fill time, so when I said, “Yes, I’ll be fine,” she had nothing left to do except try to believe me.

I helped her carry a bag downstairs. She gave me a hug, tight and official, and said, “We’ll be back from my aunt’s on the twenty-eighth. Take the train down and we’ll go to shows.”

I said yes, not knowing if I meant it. When I returned to our room, I found she’d snuck a sealed envelope onto my pillow.

And now I’m alone in the building, staring at my name written in Hannah’s pretty cursive, trying to not let this tiny object undo me. »

Circonstances de lecture

Livre qu’une amie m’a prêté. Merci Alex !

Impressions

J’ai dévoré ce livre en deux jours ! Dès les premières phrases, j’ai été transportée dans la vie de l’héroïne, Marin, une jeune fille qui se retrouve à passer les vacances de Noël seule dans son campus universitaire, à New York. Seule, à l’exception de 3 jours durant lesquels sa meilleure amie, Mabel, sera là, à ses côtés. Mais Mabel vient pour obtenir des réponses et savoir pourquoi Marin a disparu du jour au lendemain, pourquoi Marin s’est enfermée dans une telle solitude… Une histoire bouleversante, superbe, qui vous fera forcément verser quelques larmes. Un GROS coup de cœur. Et quelle jolie couverture !

Un passage parmi d’autres

I wonder if there’s a secret current that connects people who have lost something. Not in the way that everyone loses something, but in the way that undoes your life, undoes your self, so that when you look at your face it isn’t yours any more.

Nina LaCour – We are okay – février 2017 (Dutton Books)

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4 3 2 1 – Paul Auster

26 mercredi Avr 2017

Posted by Aurélie in En VO, Romans étrangers

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Étiquettes

4 3 2 1, Critique de livre, faber & faber, faber and faber, idées de lecture, lecture, Livre, Paul Auster, quoi lire, roman

Les premières phrases

« According to family legend, Ferguson’s grandfather departed on foot from his native city of Minsk with one hundred rubles into the lining of his jacket, traveled west to Hamburg through Warsaw and Berlin, and then booked passage on a ship called the Empress of China, which crossed the Atlantic in rough winter storms and sailed into New York Harbor on the first day of the twentieth century. While waiting to be interviewed by an immigration official at Ellis Island, he struck up a conversation with a fellow Russian Jew. The man said to him: Forget the name Reznikoff. It won’t do you any good here. You need an American name for your new life in America, something with a good American ring to it. Since English was still an alien tongue to Isaac Reznikoff in 1900, he asked his older, more experienced compatriot for a suggestion. Tell them you’re Rockefeller, the man said. You can’t go wrong with that. An hour passed, then another hour, and by the time the nineteen-year-old Reznikoff sat down to be questionned by the immigration official, he had forgotten the name the man had told him to give. Your name? the official asked. Slapping his head in frustration, the weary immigrant blurted out in Yiddish, Ikh hob fargessen (I’ve forgotten)! And so it was that Isaac Reznikoff began his new life in America as Ichabod Ferguson.

He had a hard time of it, especially in the beginning, but even after it was no long the beginning, nothing ever went as he had imagined it would be in his adopted country. »

Circonstances de lecture

Parce que Paul Auster fait partie de mes auteurs préférés.

Impressions

Le dernier Paul Auster est un pavé de quelque 866 pages… Autant dire qu’il faut avoir une motivation sans faille et une foi inconditionnelle en l’auteur pour se plonger dans « 4 3 2 1 ». Paul Auster y retranscrit l’histoire d’un Américain, petit-fils d’immigrants, de sa naissance en 1947 à son entrée dans la vie adulte dans les années 70, tout en faisant un parallèle avec l’Histoire Américaine de cette partie chargée du 20ème siècle, en particulier la guerre froide, les problèmes de ségrégation raciale et la guerre au Vietnam. Reste que Paul Auster complique encore la chose en nous proposant 4 versions différentes de notre héros, Archie Ferguson (d’où le titre du livre…), selon le chemin qu’il choisit, les rencontres qu’il fait, ou tout simplement le destin plus ou moins tragique de ses proches. Chaque chapitre se divise ainsi en 4, et l’on suit ainsi 4 vies possibles d’Archie. C’est donc une lecture exigeante, mais heureusement passionnante, que nous propose Paul Auster. Venir à bout de ces plus de 800 pages m’aura pris du temps mais je ne le regrette pas (bien qu’il y ait quelques longueurs). La plume de l’auteur y est évidemment pour quelque chose ! Tout comme la retranscription de cette partie de l’histoire américaine.

Un passage parmi d’autres

The word psyche means two things in Greek, his aunt said. Two very different but interesting things. Butterfly and soul. But when you stop and think about it carefully, butterfly and soul aren’t so different, after all, are they? A butterfly starts out as a caterpillar, an ugly sort of earthbound, wormy thing, and then one day the caterpillar builds a cocoon, and after a certain amount of time the cocoon opens and out comes the butterfly, the most beautiful creature in the world. That’s what happens to souls as well, Archie. They struggle in the depths of darkness and ignorance, they suffer through trials and misfortunes, and bit by bit they become purified by those sufferings, strengthened by the hard things that happen to them, and one day, if the soul in question is a worthy soul, it will break out of its cocoon and soar through the air like a magnificent butterfly.

Paul Auster – 4 3 2 1 – 2017 (faber & faber)

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Slade House – David Mitchell

25 mardi Avr 2017

Posted by Aurélie in En VO, Romans étrangers

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Étiquettes

Critique de livre, David Mitchell, idées de lecture, lecture, Livre, quoi lire, roman, Sceptre, Slade House

Les premières phrases

« Whatever Mum’s saying’s drowned out by the grimy roar of the bus pulling away, revealing a pub called The Fox and Hounds. The sign shows three beagles cornering a fox. They’re about to pounce and rip it apart. A street sign underneath says WESTWOOD ROAD. Lords and ladies are supposed to be rich, so I was expecting swimming pools and Lamborghinis, but Westwood Road looks pretty normal to me. Normal brick houses, detached or semi-detached, with little front gardens and normal cars. The damp sky’s the colour of old hankies. Seven magpies fly by. Seven’s good. Mum’s face is inches away from mine, though I’m not sure if that’s an anrgy face or a worried one. « Nathan? Are you even listening? » Mum’s wearing make-up today. That shade of lipstick’s called Morning Lilac but it smells more like Pritt Stick than lilacs. Mum’s face hasn’t gone away, so I say, « What? »

« It’s « Pardon », or « Excuse me ». Not « What? » »

« Okay, » I say, which often does the trick.

Not today. « Did you hear what I told you? »

« It’s « Pardon » or « Excuse me ». Not « What? » »

« Before that! I said, if anyone at Lady Grayer’s asks how we came here, you’re to tell them we arrived by taxi. »

« I thought lying was wrong ».

« There’s lying, » says Mum, fishing out the enveloppe she wrote the directions on from her handbag, « which is wrong, and there’s creating the right impression, which is necessary. If your father paid what he’s supposed to pay, we really would have arrived by taxi. Now… » Mum squints at her writing. « Slade Alley leads off Westwood Road, about halfway down… » She checks her watch. « Right, it’s ten to three, and we’re due at three. Chop chop. Don’t dawdle. » Off Mum walks. »

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Encore une fois attirée par la couverture…

Impressions

« Slade House » est un conte horrifique aux allures de conte de fées, digne d’un roman de Stephen King. Après le génial « Cloud Atlas », David Mitchell part donc sur un tout autre style d’histoire. Tous les neuf ans, une maison (Slade House) attire à elle une personne (un enfant, un policier…). Chaque chapitre du livre nous parle ainsi de ce qui est arrivé à cette personne et nous fait voyager de 1979 à 2015. A chaque visite, on en apprend un peu plus sur la maison et ce qui pousse les « invités » à y pénétrer. J’ai dévoré ce livre ! Je le recommande vivement !

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I’ve stopped, because the far end of the garden, the wall with the small black door – it’s gone all faint and dim. Not because of evening. It can’t even be four o’clock yet. Not because it’s misty, either. I look up – the sky’s still bluish, like it was before. It’s the garden itself. The garden’s fading away.

I turn around to tell Jonah to stop the game, something’s wrong, we need a grown-up. Any second now he’ll come hurtling round the far corner. The brambles sway like underwater tentacles. I glance back at the garden. There was a sundial but it’s gone now, and the damson trees too. Am I going blind? I want Dad to tell me it’s fine, I’m not going blind, but Dad’s in Rhodesia, so I want Mum. Where’s Jonah? What if this dissolving’s got him too? Now the lattice tunnel thing’s erased. What do you do when you’re visiting someone’s house and their garden starts vanishing?

David Mitchell – Slade House – 2015 (Sceptre)

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