A Young Monte Cristo
or, the Richest Boy in the World
X...
32 pages
Fame and Fortune Weekly - 1906 - États-Unis
Roman
Intérêt: 0
L’extraordinaire popularité du Comte de Monte-Cristo aux Etats-Unis autour de l’année 1900, qui a entraîné la publication de multiples suites romanesques (Monte Cristo and his wife, The bride of Monte Cristo, Monte Cristo’s daughter et bien d’autres) s’est retrouvée également dans les « dime novels » publiés à la même époque. Ces fascicules peu épais mais grand format vendus en kiosque pour quelques cents de dollar recyclaient infatigablement tous les clichés de la littérature populaire. Ainsi y trouve-t-on de nombreux titres faisant directement référence à Monte-Cristo.
 Les textes, il faut bien le dire, sont généralement consternants : il s’agit de plagiats complètement nuls de Monte-Cristo, traité en quelques dizaines de pages et s’appuyant sur des coïncidences tellement monstrueuses qu’elles en deviennent poétiques. Ce sont les couvertures, superbes, qui sauvent généralement ces fascicules…
A Young Monte Cristo, or, the Richest Boy in the World (à ne pas confondre avec A Young Monte Cristo, or, back to the world for vengeance) en est un parfait exemple. Ce dime novel a été publié le 1er juin 1906 à New York. Il porte le numéro 35 de la série hebdomadaire Fame and Fortune Weekly, série qui affiche le sous-titre Stories of boys who make money – Histoires de garçons qui font fortune, ça ne s’invente pas. L’auteur a choisi de rester anonyme, signant « a self-made man ».
L’histoire est celle de Will Newton, un adolescent de quinze ans dont le père est mort. Sa mère s’est remariée mais son nouveau mari convoite la fortune familiale dont Will prendra possession quand il aura 21 ans. L’infâme beau-père paye le capitaine d’un bateau pour qu’il enlève le jeune homme et le fasse disparaître. Le bateau de contrebandiers se rend à Cuba, alors en pleine guerre d’indépendance. Il se trouve pris dans un accrochage entre les rebelles et l’armée espagnole. Will est capturé par les Espagnols, accusé de soutenir l’insurrection et condamné à la prison à perpétuité.
Au bout de quelques années de captivité, il entre en contact avec un prisonnier qui creuse la muraille pour tenter de s’échapper (voir extrait ci-dessous). Il s’agit d’un autre Américain, capitaine de navire. Ce dernier fait comprendre à Will, qui ne s’en doutait pas, que son beau-père est le responsable de ses malheurs. Il lui raconte aussi comment il connaît l’emplacement d’une petite île des Caraïbes sur laquelle est caché un fabuleux trésor des pirates d’autrefois.
Quelque temps plus tard, le garçon réussit à s’échapper, rejoint l’armée américaine qui est entrée en guerre contre l’Espagne, et embarque dans un petit bateau à destination de la Floride. Pris dans une tempête, le bateau s’échoue sur un petite île qui, parmi les milliers de la région, se trouve être – mais oui – celle du trésor. Quelques péripéties plus tard, Will récupère ce dernier et revient aux Etats-Unis, devenu « le garçon le plus riche du monde ».
Comme l’objectif du récit – lui faire faire fortune – est atteint, l’histoire s’arrête là. Le retour à la maison est expédié en quelques lignes. Pas de vengeance au programme : le méchant beau-père a eu le bon goût de mourir tout seul.
Plagiat de dernier ordre, donc, sans une once de créativité ou d’originalité. Mais, comme souvent, une belle couverture !
Extrait du chapitre VI The mysterious ticking on the dungeon wall and what led to it
It needed but a spark of hope, or a new sensation, to arouse him to his old boyish vigor once more, and this revivifying touch came to him one night after he had been immured in the underground cell for a period of two years and six months.
He was listlessly leaning against the wall of his dungeon, wondering whether it was night or day in the great world outside when he heard a peculiar rhythmic tapping in the masonry behind him.
He listened, and after a short time the sound stopped, only to be resumed presently, with variations as though some one was scraping with a hard instrument on the rocks.
"What can that be?" mused Will, for the first time in many months taking an interest in what was going on around him. "Who or what is making that noise, it seems to be going on behind me."
He put his ear to the wall and listened intently.
Tick—tick—tick! Scrape—scrape—scrape!
The sound went on at intervals for hours, then it suddenly ceased.
After listening for a long time in vain for it to recommence again, Will went to sleep.
When he awoke the presence of a jug of fresh water and a hunk of coarse bread showed the boy that his jailer had made his usual round of the cells and gone away again.
During the many hours of complete silence which now reigned in that subterranean cell the boy thought of nothing but that ticking and scraping noise that he had heard in the wall.
He hadn't the slightest idea what it meant, nor what had caused it.
"It’s the first sound, outside that made by the jailer, I've heard since I've been here, and heaven alone knows how long I've been here. It seems like many years. I must be a man by this time, though I feel just like I used to in the dear old days at home. Of course, I've been given up as dead long ago, and no doubt Mr. Bacon and Moses shed few tears over my disappearance. Poor mother! How did she take it? Is she still alive? And Dick Bumstead ! I’ll bet he often wondered what happened to me. I remember I was to meet him the next morning to go on one of our little expeditions, and next morning I was far out at sea on board the Lone Star. Hello ! There it is again !"
The ticking and scraping had recommenced in the same place, and it seemed nearer, if anything, than before.
It continued as before for hours, with intervals of silence.
Day after day the same mysterious sound was repeated — always about at the same time.
Sometimes it sounded near and sometimes farther off, but always in the same place.
Will got used to it at last and gave it little attention.
One day, however, he noticed that it was louder than usual.
At first he thought this was mere fancy on his part, but when he placed his ear close to the wall he was certain he was not deceived — it was much nearer, apparently only a few inches away, as if the thing, whatever it was, was working its way toward him.
He was rather startled at this idea, and on the impulse of the moment he yelled out:
"Hello, there !"
The noise stopped like magic and did not go on again for what Will judged to be several days, then he heard it again.
Suddenly a great light seemed to flood his mind.
The noise must be the result of the effort of a prisoner in the adjoining cell to break his way through the wall, fancying maybe it would lead him to the freedom he craved. |
