The Phoenix Guards Les Gardes Phénix
Steven Brust
491 pages Tor - 1991 - États-Unis SF, Fantasy - Roman
Intérêt: ***
Premier
volume d'une trilogie hommage à celle des Trois Mousquetaires,
les romans suivants étant Five
Hundred Years After et The Viscount of Adrilankha.
Il s'agit d'un roman de science-fiction/fantasy, situé dans un monde
imaginaire avec une société complexe, de type "ancien
régime", avec de nombreux clans/castes. Un monde
ou l'on vit de nombreuses centaines d'années, où
la magie est pratiquée, où il n'y a aucune barrière
entre hommes et femmes, notamment en ce qui concerne la guerre
et les duels (innombrables).
Le roman reprend les personnages de Dumas (les quatre mousquetaires):
- Khaavren/d'Artagnan: jeune noble ruiné en quête
de carrière militaire. Vaillant et astucieux.
- Aerich/Athos: secrètement l'héritier d'une grande
famille, il cherche à venger son père jadis victime
d'une trahison. Sage, intransigeant sur les principes.
- Pel/Aramis: dissimulant lui aussi sa véritable identité,
s'intéresse de près aux intrigues de la Cour. A
la fin du livre, il quitte les gardes pour s'initier au rôle
de "Discrétion", sorte de conscience/confesseur
de l'Empereur.
- Tazendra/Porthos: Porthos au féminin, toujours à
la recherche de batailles et de duels, combattante redoutable,
simple et directe, d'une intelligence limitée, mais la
meilleure amie du monde. Cette "adaptation" de Porthos
est une vraie réussite.
Le récit voit les quatre gardes entraînés
dans les intrigues qui se déroulent autour du nouvel Empereur:
nombreux combats, voyage aux confins de l'Empire où Khaavren
négocie le règlement du conflit ancestral avec
le peuple voisin, etc...
Quelques trouvailles dans l'esprit des Mousquetaires:
- au début, contrairement aux Trois mousquetaires,
les quatre héros sollicitent en même temps leur
entrée dans les gardes. Test d'admission: patrouiller
avec un garde titulaire chargé de tester leur comportement.
Au bout de deux heures, Khaavren se bat en duel avec son accompagnateur
et le tue. Il va raconter l'histoire au commandant des gardes,
mais son récit est interrompu par les retours des trois
autres, qui ont tous tué en duel leur mentor...
- les attaques dont les quatre gardes sont l'objet pendant leur
voyage connaissent une progression mathématique: attaque
menée par un homme, puis douze, puis trente, une centaine,
une armée...
- partis à la recherche d'une fugitive, les gardes sont
tellement embrouillés par les intrigues diverses au coeur
desquelles se trouve cette dernière qu'ils ne savent absolument
pas s'ils devront l'arrêter ou la protéger quand
ils l'auront trouvée. D'où leur décision:
"trouvons-la d'abord, et quand nous l'aurons trouvée,
nous réfléchirons..." (et quand ils la trouvent,
scène de confusion maximale!).
Ce récit très amusant, écrit dans une langue
vieillotte, constituant une étonnante adaptation de "l'esprit
Dumas" dans un cadre de fantasy. Steven Brust fournit dans sa postface
quelques explications sur son admiration pour Dumas. Il s’exprime également sur son travail, son écriture, l’influence et la popularité de Dumas aujourd’hui dans deux interviews accordées à pastichesdumas : l’une en 2002 et l’autre, beaucoup plus longue, en 2020.
Le roman a été publié en français en septembre 2007, dans une traduction de Benoît Berthézène, par les Editions Mnémos sour le titre Les Gardes Phénix.
En 2020, Steven Brust a publié un autre roman consacré cette fois à un hommage au Comte de Monte-Cristo: The Baron of Magister Valley.
Extrait du chapitre 27 In Which it is Shown That
Some are made Unhappy by Reflection, While others are made Unhappy
by Projection
At this point, Khaavren broke off his monologue, for he noticed
that Mica had come up next to him, and was looking around with
a melancholy expression on his normally cheerful face.
"Well," said Khaavren, happy to be distracted by someone
else's misery, "you are looking mournful."
"It is true, my lord."
"But then, have you a reason for this look? Or is it due
to the rain that is soaking us to the skin and making us fear
our horses will slip on this treacherous mountain path and lead
us to break our necks? Do you know, we had planned to bring oiled
cloaks with us, we even counted on it, but somehow we forgot
to bring them. It is a sad comment on the human condition when
even correct planning is of no benefit. Is it this that saddens
you, good Mica? For, if so, I am in full agreement."
"No, it is not that at all, my lord."
"Well, what is it then?"
"You wish me to tell you?"
"I do."
"Then I will."
"Go on, then, I await you."
"Well, this is it: I have been doing sums in head."
"But then," said Khaavren, "I have done sums in
my head, and it never makes me sad; on the contrary, it sharpens
my wits, which, in turn, increases my amusement with the world,
and that makes the hours go in a very pleasurable way."
"I will try to follow your example, my lord."
"You will be pleased with the results, Mica, I assure you."
"But I have been doing more than sums, my lord', I have
been making projections."
"Ah, projections. Well, that is another matter entirely."
"I am pleased that you think so, my lord."
"Oh, I do indeed. Projections are fare more serious matters
than sums."
"And moreover-"
"What, there is more?"
"There is, my lord, and, if you want to hear it, I shall
tell you."
"I should enjoy hearing it if for other reason than because
the clipped tones of your accent tickle me; you speak so differently
from the northern twang of the city or the lilt of my own country."
"Well, my lord, it may be that the subject upon which you
calculate sums is different from the subject upon which I make
projections."
"Well, that may be, Mica, because I had not known you were
making projections on a particular subject."
"I have been, my lord."
"And what, then, is this famous subject?"
"It is soldiers, my lord."
"How, soldiers?"
"Exactly. Attend: were you not, before I had the honor to
meet you, attacked by one man?"
"Well, yes, I was, and the proof is, it was Uttrik, who
now rides with us."
"And then, at Beed'n's Inn, were there not twelve brigands
who attacked us?"
"Why, that is exactly the number, Mica."
"And then, when we were leaving The Painted Sign, were we
not set on by some thirty of the enemy?"
"That is to say, we set on them, but your numbers are correct."
'Well, and, were there not at least a hundred of the enemy who
were
driven off by my lady's stratagem?"
"This time, I think, you may be in error."
"But at least, my lord, there were a good deal more than
thirty."
"With this I agree."
"Well then, it is upon this subject that I have been making
projections, toward the goal of determining how many enemies
will face us next time."
"I see. Well, and what have you determined, Mica?"
"That there will be many more of them than there are of
us."
"Well, I don't doubt that you are correct."
"An army, my lord. I fear they will bring an army."
Extrait du chapitre 29 In Which Our Friends Realize
with Great Pleasure That the Situation has Become Hopeless
"Hullo," said Khaavren, suddenly.
Aerich, who had gone so far as to take in the very breath which
would have exhaled the word, "Begin", stopped, and
looked at Khaavren, whose eyes were now fixed upon some point
out in the distance. He, Aerich, very slowly let his breath out
and followed the imaginary line penciled by the intensity of
Khaavren's gaze.
Seeing this, Pel, Tazendra and Mica looked, then Uttrik, who
stood facing the east, and, last of all, Kathana turned around
and stared herself.
After a few moments, Pel murmured, "Easterners, if I am
not mistaken. See how they sit bent over their horses?"
"Thousands of them," said Khaavren.
"The invasion has begun," said Uttrik, as if he could
not believe it himself.
"Then," said Tazendra, "instead of having to watch
one of our friends die, we shall all die together. How splendid!"
"Splendid, mistress?" said Mica, amazed that she should
be positively glowing with pleasure at the thought of her imminent
demise.
"Compared to the alternative," said Khaavren, drawing
his sword, "a pleasure indeed."
Pel said, "I admit that it pleases me also."
"It is just the sort of thing I had been hoping for,"
said Aerich.
"For my part," said Kathana, "I quite agree."
"As do I,", said Uttrik.
Mica looked at the lot of them and shook his head, then looking
back at the growing line of Easterners, he said, "There
is time to reach the horses and escape, if we hurry."
The others stared at him. "How," said Tazendra. "And
miss a battle of six against thousands? When will such a chance
come again?" |