[espacement]
[emphase]2. Le Seigneur du Crépuscule[/emphase]
Peu de temps après l'entretien précédent, Martin commente la [emphase]« sensibilité crépusculaire »[/emphase] qui caractérise son œuvre à l’image de celle qui donne [emphase]« profondeurs et écho »[/emphase] à l’œuvre de Tolkien :
[citation=01/08/2011, The Sydney Morning Herald]I have always been a dark writer. If you look at the stuff I was writing before. I prefer the term realistic. I prefer to work with grey characters rather than black and white. I have an instinctual distrust of conventional happy endings. The best fantasy does have a thread of darkness that runs through it. If you go back and look at Tolkien, the master of them all, there’s definite darkness in The Lord of the Rings. There’s a sadness to it, the passing of an age, the elves are leaving, magic is dying, these kingdoms of men are fading. There’s a sort of twilight sensibility. He had the scouring of the Shire, even after the great victory over Sauron. It’s not all happiness and dancing in the moonlight. Things have been lost, and Frodo is never quite the same. I responded to those elements in it, even when I read it at 13. I think there’s a lot of similar elements not only in Ice and Fire, but in all of my work.[/citation]
Martin n’a jamais caché qu’il partage avec Tolkien une inclination pour le Crépuscule. Ainsi en 2009, lorsqu’on lui fait remarquer certaines similarités à ce sujet entre A Song of Ice and Fire et le Seigneur des Anneaux :
[citation=27/07/2009, freemagazine.fi]I have a certain attraction towards twilights. You can see that in my work, if you read my first novel Dying of the Light. There is something about it that it is very evocative to me, the twilight world, and the world between the edges.[/citation]
Deux ans plus tard, lorsque Martin lui-même questionne cette force suggestive qu’est pour lui le sentiment de la perte ou celui d’un Âge d’or qui précède le nôtre, il associe explicitement son histoire personnelle à la fin du Troisième Âge d’Arda :
[citation=20/04/2011, Time]This big house my mother had been born in and her family had grown up in, but had lost. And other people lived in what had been our house. And I think it always gave me this, this sense of a lost golden age of, you know, now we were poor and we lived in the projects and we lived in an apartment. We didn’t even have a car, but God we were… once we were royalty! It gave me a certain attraction to those kinds of stories of I don’t know, fallen civilizations and lost empires and all of that.
And that may be one reason why Tolkien’s world appealed to me so much. Middle Earth is in decline as well. I mean, the elves are going away, magic was leaving the world. Many of the great places we visited in Middle Earth, like the Mines of Moria—I mean, Moria was once this great city and now it’s this hideous ruin and crumbling, this dark place under the earth inhabited by these monstrous creatures.[/citation]
Trois ans plus tard, Martin détaille la découverte du Seigneur des Anneaux, évoque les sentiments qui furent les siens à la première lecture – un enthousiasme mêlé d’incompréhension et suivi d’un grand vide que beaucoup de lecteurs ont éprouvé – et livre son interprétation du caractère si particulier du Seigneur des Anneaux, livre qui trouve encore de nouveaux lecteurs aujourd’hui et que les lecteurs relisent plusieurs fois, lui le premier :
[citation=28/04/2014, Rolling Stone]Quartana, one of the fanzines I hoped to write for, was covering mostly sword and sorcery and fantasy. They had a story about this English guy, Tolkien, and his story about hobbits and rings. It sounded cool to me, so when the first pirated Ace edition of Tolkien came out in paperback I snapped it up. I had a very mixed reaction when I started it. I was a high school sophomore by then. I thought this was like Conan? What the hell is all this stuff, Hey nonny nonny, and little guys with hairy feet smoking pipe weed. Conan would always begin with a half naked woman and a giant snake [laughs], and I was looking for the giant snake. But by the time I got to the Black Riders and Bree, I was hooked, and by the time I finished Fellowship of the Ring, Tolkien had become like my favorite writer, finally knocking Robert Heinlein and Andre Norton off their pinnacle.
As I read Return of the King, I didn’t want it to be over. That last book blew my mind, particularly the scouring of the Shire. I didn’t like that when I was in high school. The story’s over, and they destroyed the ring — but he didn’t write "and now they lived happily ever after." Instead, they went home and home was all fucked up. The evil guys had burned down some of the woods; a fascist-like tyranny had taken over. That seemed anticlimactic to me. Frodo didn’t live happily ever after or marry a nice girl hobbit. He was permanently wounded; he was damaged. As a 13 year old, I couldn’t grasp that. Now, every time I re-read The Lord of the Rings — which I do, every few years — I appreciate the brilliance of the scouring of the Shire. That’s part of what lifts the book from all its imitators. There was a real cost to Tolkien’s world. There’s a tremendous sadness at the end of Lord of the Rings, and it has a power. I think that’s partly why people are still reading and re-reading these books.
By the time I finished Lord of the Rings it actually somewhat depressed me, because I didn’t think I could ever do anything of that stature. Fortunately, I got over that.[/citation]
[espacement]
S.
[emphase]2. Le Seigneur du Crépuscule[/emphase]
Peu de temps après l'entretien précédent, Martin commente la [emphase]« sensibilité crépusculaire »[/emphase] qui caractérise son œuvre à l’image de celle qui donne [emphase]« profondeurs et écho »[/emphase] à l’œuvre de Tolkien :
[citation=01/08/2011, The Sydney Morning Herald]I have always been a dark writer. If you look at the stuff I was writing before. I prefer the term realistic. I prefer to work with grey characters rather than black and white. I have an instinctual distrust of conventional happy endings. The best fantasy does have a thread of darkness that runs through it. If you go back and look at Tolkien, the master of them all, there’s definite darkness in The Lord of the Rings. There’s a sadness to it, the passing of an age, the elves are leaving, magic is dying, these kingdoms of men are fading. There’s a sort of twilight sensibility. He had the scouring of the Shire, even after the great victory over Sauron. It’s not all happiness and dancing in the moonlight. Things have been lost, and Frodo is never quite the same. I responded to those elements in it, even when I read it at 13. I think there’s a lot of similar elements not only in Ice and Fire, but in all of my work.[/citation]
Martin n’a jamais caché qu’il partage avec Tolkien une inclination pour le Crépuscule. Ainsi en 2009, lorsqu’on lui fait remarquer certaines similarités à ce sujet entre A Song of Ice and Fire et le Seigneur des Anneaux :
[citation=27/07/2009, freemagazine.fi]I have a certain attraction towards twilights. You can see that in my work, if you read my first novel Dying of the Light. There is something about it that it is very evocative to me, the twilight world, and the world between the edges.[/citation]
Deux ans plus tard, lorsque Martin lui-même questionne cette force suggestive qu’est pour lui le sentiment de la perte ou celui d’un Âge d’or qui précède le nôtre, il associe explicitement son histoire personnelle à la fin du Troisième Âge d’Arda :
[citation=20/04/2011, Time]This big house my mother had been born in and her family had grown up in, but had lost. And other people lived in what had been our house. And I think it always gave me this, this sense of a lost golden age of, you know, now we were poor and we lived in the projects and we lived in an apartment. We didn’t even have a car, but God we were… once we were royalty! It gave me a certain attraction to those kinds of stories of I don’t know, fallen civilizations and lost empires and all of that.
And that may be one reason why Tolkien’s world appealed to me so much. Middle Earth is in decline as well. I mean, the elves are going away, magic was leaving the world. Many of the great places we visited in Middle Earth, like the Mines of Moria—I mean, Moria was once this great city and now it’s this hideous ruin and crumbling, this dark place under the earth inhabited by these monstrous creatures.[/citation]
Trois ans plus tard, Martin détaille la découverte du Seigneur des Anneaux, évoque les sentiments qui furent les siens à la première lecture – un enthousiasme mêlé d’incompréhension et suivi d’un grand vide que beaucoup de lecteurs ont éprouvé – et livre son interprétation du caractère si particulier du Seigneur des Anneaux, livre qui trouve encore de nouveaux lecteurs aujourd’hui et que les lecteurs relisent plusieurs fois, lui le premier :
[citation=28/04/2014, Rolling Stone]Quartana, one of the fanzines I hoped to write for, was covering mostly sword and sorcery and fantasy. They had a story about this English guy, Tolkien, and his story about hobbits and rings. It sounded cool to me, so when the first pirated Ace edition of Tolkien came out in paperback I snapped it up. I had a very mixed reaction when I started it. I was a high school sophomore by then. I thought this was like Conan? What the hell is all this stuff, Hey nonny nonny, and little guys with hairy feet smoking pipe weed. Conan would always begin with a half naked woman and a giant snake [laughs], and I was looking for the giant snake. But by the time I got to the Black Riders and Bree, I was hooked, and by the time I finished Fellowship of the Ring, Tolkien had become like my favorite writer, finally knocking Robert Heinlein and Andre Norton off their pinnacle.
As I read Return of the King, I didn’t want it to be over. That last book blew my mind, particularly the scouring of the Shire. I didn’t like that when I was in high school. The story’s over, and they destroyed the ring — but he didn’t write "and now they lived happily ever after." Instead, they went home and home was all fucked up. The evil guys had burned down some of the woods; a fascist-like tyranny had taken over. That seemed anticlimactic to me. Frodo didn’t live happily ever after or marry a nice girl hobbit. He was permanently wounded; he was damaged. As a 13 year old, I couldn’t grasp that. Now, every time I re-read The Lord of the Rings — which I do, every few years — I appreciate the brilliance of the scouring of the Shire. That’s part of what lifts the book from all its imitators. There was a real cost to Tolkien’s world. There’s a tremendous sadness at the end of Lord of the Rings, and it has a power. I think that’s partly why people are still reading and re-reading these books.
By the time I finished Lord of the Rings it actually somewhat depressed me, because I didn’t think I could ever do anything of that stature. Fortunately, I got over that.[/citation]
[espacement]
S.