The Duke of Arcanum
Frank Carleton Long
452 pages Laird & Lee Publishers - 1894 - États-Unis Roman
Intérêt: *
Très directement démarqué du Comte de Monte-Cristo
(sans le reconnaître), ce livre est un classique
récit d'injustice et de vengeance. Tout à fait dépourvu
de créativité dans l'exploitation du mythe de
Monte-Cristo, son principal intérêt tient au portrait
qu'il brosse de Chicago dans les années 1870.
Le héros de l'histoire est Stanley Edgcumb, un jeu ne homme plein d'avenir. Employé
brillant de la compagnie du télégraphe, il a de bonnes
chances de promotion. Il est heureusement marié et père
de famille.
Mais Jack Coulter, son rival de bureau, le prend en
haine. Il commence par le faire accuser, à tort, de la
disparition d'un télégramme important : Stanley est
licencié. Pire: convoitant la place du directeur
général, Coulter assassine ce dernier et fait accuser
Stanley. Celui-ci est arrêté et jugé. Mais, au moment où
il est reconnu coupable et va être condamné à mort, la
foudre s'abat sur le tribunal et tue le procureur (sic).
Dans la panique qui s'ensuit, Stanley prend la fuite.
Il mène alors une vie de fugitif, pendant laquelle il
attrape la petite vérole. Celle-ci lui laisse de
nombreuses marques sur le visage, ce qui empêchera qu'on
le reconnaisse par la suite. Pendant ce temps, sa femme
et ses enfants s'enfoncent dans la misère.
Pendant le grand incendie qui détruit Chicago à cette
époque, Stanley tente de sauver un homme gravement
blessé, qui s'accroche à un coffret métallique. A la
suite de diverses péripéties, Stanley croit que l'homme
est mort et ouvre le coffret, qui contient 50.000
dollars, une grosse somme à l'époque. Cet argent lui
permet de partir à Londres.
Là, il vend pour une fortune les brevets d'un
télégraphe automatique qu'il a mis au point pendant sa
captivité. Il revient alors à Chicago, en millionnaire,
sous le nom de Jasper Morton. Il éblouit la ville avec
son train de vie somptueux, mais aussi sa générosité: il
donne sans compter aux miséreux. Simultanément, il
devient un intervenant de premier plan sur les marchés
de matières premières et de produits agricoles qui font
la spécialité (encore aujourd'hui) de la ville. Son
habileté exceptionnelle lui permet d'édifier une fortune
colossale sur ces marchés hyper spéculatifs.
Il entreprend de récompenser ceux qui l'ont aidé jadis
(mais dont aucun ne l'a reconnu). Il fait la fortune de
l'avocat qui avait défendu avec dévouement Stanley
Edgcumb, et le fait élire gouverneur de l'Etat. Ayant
retrouvé l'homme de l'incendie de Chicago, à qui il doit
le début de sa prospérité, et qui est devenu mendiant,
il lui offre une maison et de l'argent. Ses
excentricités lui valent alors le surnom de «Duke of
Arcanum» - quelque chose comme «Duc du Mystère».
Simultanément, il enquête sur Coulter et ses différents
méfaits. Il retrouve - y compris grâce à d'ahurissantes
coïncidences - les témoins de l'époque, jusqu'à
confondre le criminel qui, entre temps, a sombré dans le
jeu et l'alcool. Il retrouve alors son nom, sa femme et
ses enfants, et vit d'autant plus heureux qu'il est très
riche...
Aucune originalité, on le voit, dans ce remake de Monte-Cristo
. Les grandes lignes de l'intrigue sont là, mais
toutes sont affadies: les malheurs de Stanley, sa
fortune, sa puissance, sa vengeance sont tous
«inférieurs» à ceux d'Edmond Dantès. On peut aussi
regretter un certain nombre de fausses pistes amorcées
par le récit. C'est le cas, par exemple, avec le
personnage de Kye, un collègue handicapé de Stanley, qui
vient à son aide quand il est accusé de meurtre, lui
fait prendre conscience des manigances de Coulter, et
que ce dernier kidnappe. On croit un moment que ce
personnage intéressant va jouer un grand rôle dans
l'intrigue, sous forme d'une version transformée de
l'abbé Faria, mais il n'en est rien: il est tué et on
n'en entend plus parler.
Des maladresses du récit sont également frappantes: la
fortune de Stanley est édifiée en trois étapes sans
aucun rapport entre elles - la cassette trouvée dans
l'incendie, la vente de son brevet, des spéculations
systématiquement gagnantes, sans explication, sur les
marchés financiers - ce qui est curieusement hésitant.
Le livre ne manque cependant pas d'un certain charme.
Les descriptions sont bien menées, des rues de Chicago à
l'incendie qui ravage la ville. On peut également
apprécier l'évocation de la vie sociale de cette
métropole des Etats-Unis à la fin du 19ème siècle: vie
quotidienne des employés et du petit peuple, description
des bas-fonds, frénésie des milieux financiers, etc...
Extrait du chapitre 20 The Duke of Arcanum
Early in the spring of 1873 the Board of Trade and
financial circles of Chicago evinced considerable
interest in a mysterious individual who had recently
arrived and plunged into speculations of uncommon
magnitude in grain. He had presented large drafts upon
different banks, which had been duly honored. It being
inferred from this that he was a man of vast wealth and
resources, his movements were watched with unusual
interest. No one, however, seemed to know who he was or
whence he came. His general appearance and the fashion
of his garments were decidedly English. There were some
who declared that he was an English nobleman, sojourning
incognito for a short time; while others, who had passed
a few words with him, asserted that the voice, language
and manners of the stranger were those of an American.
His manner was so reserved, and his bearing so
dignified, that none felt that he could be approached
upon terms of sufficient intimacy to enable one to learn
anything in regard to his history or antecedents. His
magnificent equipage, drawn by a pair of cream-colored
horses - creatures of remarkable, limb and beauty - was
the marvel of all as they dashed through the streets,
and their origin was as mysterious as their owner.
At a regular hour every morning the carriage drew up
before the entrance to the Chamber of Commerce; the
stranger alighted and walked up the stairs into the
exchange hall, where he was seen to watch the course of
the markets for a few moments, study the columns of
statistics which were posted on the bulletin boards,
open cable dispatches which were usually awaiting him,
talk confidentially but briefly with his brokers, and
then retire from the chamber as quietly as he had
entered.
The stranger was known to be in telegraphic
correspondence with the Marquis of Follansbee, of
London, and, as the Marquis was renowned for his
speculative ventures, it was surmised that there was an
understanding between them to operate in the grain
market upon a large scale. He seemed at once, without
any effort, to unconsciously obtain great prestige,
while his name and intentions inspired the keenest
interest and occasioned the liveliest gossip upon the
floor of the exchange.
Jasper Morton had, in due course of time, obtained his
letters-patent, made the necessary assignment to the
Marquis of Follansbee, received the hundred thousand
pounds, and, with bills of exchange on New York, sailed
from Liverpool for America. He has determined to go on
to Chicago and enter that city with a boldness which
would disarm suspicion. His sojourn of a year and a half
abroad had wrought a wonderful change in him. It would,
indeed, have been a difficult matter to have recognized
in Jasper Morton, when he returned to the earlier scenes
of his career, the Stanley Edgcumb who had escaped the
clutches of the law in such a miraculous way. The smooth
face of other days was now covered with a thick growth
of beard, while the upper portion was covered with
scars, which evidenced the ravages of small-pox. His
manner had undergone a great change also. The weight of
troubles which had oppressed him so long and the
reticence which he found it necessary to maintain had
sobered his character, so that the amiable,
light-hearted disposition of former days had given place
to icy reserve and unapproachable hauteur and dignity.
His travel abroad and his associations with people of
culture and refinement had given him a polish and
elegance of manners, while his affluence tended to give
him assurance, thus rendering impossible a recognition
of his former self in the man of ‘73.
Morton fully appreciated the danger in returning to his
old haunts, but there was a combination of circumstances
which he felt would carry him safely through. Chicago was
too busily occupied with her rejuvenescence to remember
the poor telegrapher who had been convicted of murder,
even if she did not think him dead. The fire also had
wrought mighty changes. New faces had appeared and old
ones disappeared. Old Chicago was no more; and Morton
thought that amidst the busy scenes of the new city, in
his metamorphosis from a threadbare prisoner to a man of
opulence, that none would attempt to trace a resemblance
between them, and that he would be altogether free from
suspicion. |