The Princesses of Westfalin, tome 1, Jessica Day George
15.5/20
Chronicle
Les contes de fĂ©es, jâaime trop ça, vraiment. Mon pĂ©chĂ© mignon !
Jâavais trĂšs trĂšs hĂąte de commencer cette trilogie dans la liste de mes envies depuis facile trente ans et ça mâa fait plaisir de retrouver lâautrice. Jâai lu Le Bal des Dragons il y a sept ou huit ans maintenant et je me souviens avoir adorĂ© donc naturellement, me revoilĂ avec une de ses nouvelles sĂ©ries (plus aussi nouvelles que ça dâailleurs vu que je la commence des annĂ©es aprĂšs sa sortie).
Je lisais avec beaucoup dâentrain. Cette revisite du Bal des Douze Princesses fait grave conte de fĂ©e et câest exactement ce que je recherchais. Je me suis carrĂ©ment laissĂ© porter au dĂ©but en attendant dâen lire toujours plus. Jâai adorĂ© les prĂ©noms de fleurs des douze princesses et quand Rose est tombĂ©e malade, ça mâa beaucoup fait penser Ă la Princesse au Petit Pois. Elle tombe malade rapidement et sĂ©vĂšrement dĂšs le dĂ©but en contaminant toutes ses sĆurs, trĂšs dĂ©licate et fragile cette Rose. Bref, une vraie princesse.
Les personnages paraissent bons mais comme ils sont trĂšs peu fouillĂ©s, on n’effleure que la surface de leurs potentiels et c’est bien dommage. En revanche, Rose et Galen mâont fait serrer les dents Ă un moment quand ils sont allĂ©s danser ensemble au Midnight Ball alors que Galen Ă©tait sous sa cape dâinvisibilitĂ©. Trop imprudents de leur part mais câest lâĂ©lĂ©ment qui va enclencher lâaction donc je suppose quâon ne pouvait pas se passer de ça.
Le grand problĂšme de ce premier tome, câest que je me suis aperçue au fil des pages que le rĂ©cit Ă©tait quand mĂȘme un peu superficiel. Au dĂ©part, ce nâĂ©tait pas dĂ©rangeant, câĂ©tait mĂȘme plaisant mais jâaurais aimĂ© par la suite que lâhistoire sâapprofondisse ou quâelle devienne un peu plus surprenante, un truc dans le genre. LĂ , On est trop restĂ© Ă la surface, sans jamais creuser plus, je suis déçue de ce cĂŽtĂ©.
Comme tout le monde connait ce conte, le dĂ©fi Ă©tait de rĂ©ussir Ă suffisamment innover pour surprendre le lecteur. Ici, la mission a Ă©tĂ© accomplie mais pas suffisamment. Je trouve ça vraiment dommage encore une fois, de ne pas plus avoir exploitĂ© le potentiel des personnages et notamment dĂ©velopper lâunivers du Royaume Under Stone et du Roi qui y rĂšgne cruellement. On a donc une rĂ©Ă©criture du conte qui commençait bien mais qui est plutĂŽt moyenne tout compte fait car je la juge trop facile et pas assez originale.
Un dernier reproche Ă©galement sur le fait que lâautrice aurait pu gommer le caractĂšre sexiste quâon retrouve trĂšs souvent dans les contes. Par exemple, pourquoi câest Ă lâhomme qui Ă©pousera la fille du Roi qui deviendrait roi Ă son tour ? Jâaurais plus apprĂ©ciĂ© une rĂ©Ă©criture moderne oĂč la fille deviendrait Reine aprĂšs son pĂšre et son mari Prince Consort. Et puis le fameux : « celui qui rĂ©soudra le mystĂšre pourra Ă©pouser nâimporte laquelle de mes filles⊠» Mouais, bon, peut mieux faire, hein.
Jâai nĂ©anmoins trouvĂ© hyper cool que Galen fasse du tricot. Les explications Ă la toute fin sur les soldats nordiques qui en faisaient sans oublier les tutos comment tricoter la chaĂźne en laine et le chĂąle blanc de lâhistoire est un vrai bonus.
Dommage (ça commence Ă en faire beaucoup des « dommages ») pour la fin bĂąclĂ©e, trop simple et prĂ©visible. Jâai mĂȘme trouvĂ© le dernier chapitre un peu gĂȘnant, ça dĂ©gouline de miĂšvrerie, jâai pas trop aimĂ© mais la fin reste tout de mĂȘme satisfaisante.
MalgrĂ© tout, jâadore les histoires de princesses et je me suis rĂ©galĂ©e de ce premier tome. Jâattends la suite avec impatience, surtout parce quâil me semble que le prochain conte rĂ©inventĂ© est celui de Cendrillon. Il nous tarde de dĂ©couvrir.
Les extraits que j’ai retenus
âAnd Iâm very privileged to be able to assist you, Your Highness,â Galen said with a smile.
Poppy laughed. âRose will be jealous, if she sees us,â Poppy said, looking up at Galen from under her eyelashes. âShe thinks youâre handsome.â
Galen stopped in his tracks. Now his cheeks really were red under his tan. âBut weâve never ⊠I only ⊠by the fountain.â
âShe sits by the window in the afternoons, to try to get some sun. She watches you working,â Poppy told him. âAnd she said you looked so strong and brave, standing in the moonlight with your switch that night.â She giggled at Galenâs discomfiture.
He gave a wary look. She was teasing him, he knew, but teasing him with the truth? Did Princess Rose watch him? He glanced up at the windows of the palace, but the angle of the weak wintry sun made it hard to tell if anyone was beyond the glass.
âOf course, sheâll kill me for telling you that,â Poppy said cheerfully.
âI certainly wonât tell her,â Galen said fervently.
âI didnât think you would.â She laughed again.
She turned and began walking in the direction Galen had just come from. âYou will have need of it, Galen,â she said. âWhen you are in the palace, you will have great need. He must not be allowed above.â
âWho must not be allowed? And Iâm not going to the palace,â he said to her retreating back, confused. âIâm going to find work with my aunt and uncle, theyââ He broke off. âHow did you know my name?â
âRemember, Galen,â she called over her shoulder. âWhen you are in the palace, you will have great need.â
âAllow me to give you this orange, Your Highness, along with my wishes for a swift recovery.â
âThatâs very generous of you, Master Galen,â she replied, a faint light kindling in her eyes, âespecially since they are my familyâs oranges.â She took it from him, rolling it between her palms. âAnd considering that my illness is most likely a result of falling into the fountain the day we met.â
Galen winced. He had known she would remember that, but he had hoped she wouldnât hold it against him. Although, judging by the faint smile on her pale lips, she didnât mean it in earnest.
âWell, Your Highness, I know that I am indeed handsome, but I can hardly be blamed if my good looks overcame you so strongly that you fainted,â he said, striking a pose. He had butterflies in his stomach, wondering if he was taking the teasing too far.
But he was rewarded: Rose laughed, a high, clear sound, and lobbed the orange at him. He caught it deftly, but when her laughter turned to a cough, he dropped the orange and bent over her, not sure if he dared to pat her back or take her hand. âYour Highness, forgive me. Are you unwell?â
âThis all began because of their shoes being worn out night after night,â he said. He had fallen into an easy quick-march pace. He put an arm around his cousinâs waist to help her along. âIf someone could just figure out what they do every night.â He shook his head in frustration. âIâve tried, but I havenât seen a thing.â
Ulrike looked at him in shock. âYou have? How?â
Galen glanced down at her. âI have permission from the king to roam the gardens at night. Iâve been sneaking around for days now, but as far as I can tell the princesses arenât leaving the palace.â He cleared his throat, uncomfortable. âIâve even tried setting traps for them.â
âTraps? What kind of traps?â
âHanging bells in the ivy on the palace walls in case theyâre using it to climb down, sprinkling flour outside the doors and windows, so that theyâll leave tracks. Theyâd have to fly off the roof like owls to get out of the palace at night without me knowing.â
âBut think of how many others have tried to find out their secret,â Ulrike huffed. âTried and died. You should be more careful.â
âDonât worryâI have an advantage,â Galen said, as they arrived on the Orm doorstep.
âWhat?â Ulrike pressed a hand to her side, panting.
Galen smiled at her and laid a finger to his lips. âItâs a secret.â
Moi aussi, j’ai un fai le pour les contes de fĂ©es. Des fois, je trouve qu’il y a trop de rĂ©Ă©critures de contes publiĂ©es, mais je continue d’en lire plein đ .
JâaimeAimĂ© par 1 personne
Mais tellement ! Moi, c’est mon cĂŽtĂ© trop âš girly âš qui fait que j’aimerais inextinguiblement les histoires de princesse en dĂ©tresse vivant dans un monde enchantĂ© avec du rose et des paillettes et le prince charmant Ă la rescousse, sans oublier le happy end ! đžđŒđ
JâaimeAimĂ© par 1 personne