CLOCKWORK PRINCE est le deuxième tome de la trilogie du "préquel" à la Cité des Tènèbres, et il sortira en août 2011.
Après Clockwork Angel (qui est seulement sorti en anglais pour l'isntant et dont vous retrouverez ma chronique sur la droite du blog), voici les extraits divulgés par Cassandra Clare ces dernières semaines, dont le dernier cette nuit.
La trilogie du Préquel, nommée The Infernal Devices (contre The Mortal Instrument pour La Cité des Ténèbres) sera éditée en France en 2012 chez Pocket Jeunesse.
Pour les lecteurs anglophones qui, comme moi, ont déjà lu Clockwork Angel et se languissent de sa suite, voici quelques petits extraits croustillants sur Will, Jem et Tessa.
Je ne les ai pas traduits car cela n'est pas très relevant pour les lecteurs francophones qui n'ont donc pas encore pu lire le premier tome.
Tout d'abord quelques citations :
"But you are much prettier," Jem said.
- Will: "“Tess,” he said, and she thought, once again, how no one but him ever called her that. “That is all I think about."
- Tessa: “Jem !” she cried again, and when he did not look up, she strode across the room, and wrenched the bow out of his hand. “Jem, stop!"
And lastly: "“I would die for you, you know that." - unattributed. Clockwork Prince. There, distracted I hope !
Long extrait sur Jem et Tessa :
They slowed finally at the southeastern corner of the church. Watery daylight poured through the rose windows overhead. “I know we are in a hurry to get to the Council meeting,” said Jem. “But I wanted you to see this.” He gestured around them. “Poet’s Corner.”
Tessa had read of the place, of course, where the great poets and writers of England were buried. There was the gray stone tomb of Chaucer, with its canopy, and other familiar names: Edmund Spenser, who had written The Faerie Queen, “Oh, and Milton,” she gasped, “and Coleridge, and Robert Burns, and Shakespeare —”
“He isn’t really buried here,” said Jem, quickly. “It’s just a monument.”
“Oh, I know, but —” She looked at him, and felt herself flush. “I can’t explain it. It’s like being among friends, being among these names. Silly, I know . . .”
“Not silly at all.”
She smiled at him. “How did you know just what I’d want to see?” “How could I not?” he said. “When I think of you, and you are not there, I see you in my mind’s eye always with a book in your hand.” He looked away from her as he said it, but not before she caught the slight flush on his cheekbones. He was so pale, he could never hide even the least blush, she thought — and was surprised how affectionate the thought was.
She had become very fond of Jem over the past fortnight; Will had been studiously avoiding her, Charlotte and Henry were caught up in issues of Clave and Council and the running of the Institute —even Jessamine seemed preoccupied. But Jem was always there. He seemed to take his role as her guide to London seriously: they had been to Hyde Park and Kew Gardens, the National Gallery and the British Museum, the Tower of London and Traitor’s Gate. They gone to see the cows being milked in St James Park, the fruit and vegetable sellers in Covent Garden, had watched the boats sailing on the sun-sparked Thames from the Embankment. And as the days went on, Tessa felt herself unfolding slowly out of her quiet, huddled unhappiness over Nate and Will and the loss of her old life, like a flower climbing out of frozen ground. She had even found herself laughing. And she had Jem to thank for it.
“You are a good friend,” she exclaimed, and when, to her surprise, he said nothing to that, she said, “At least, I hope we are good friends. You do think so too, don’t you, Jem?”
He turned to look at her.
Extrait sur Will et Tessa :
“They’re not hideous,” said Tessa.
Will blinked at her. “What?”
“Gideon and Gabriel,” said Tessa. “They’re really quite good-looking, not hideous at all.”
“I spoke,” said Will, in sepulchral tones, “of the pitch-black inner depths of their souls.”
Tessa snorted. “And what color do you suppose the inner depths of your soul are, Will Herondale?”
“Mauve,” said Will.
(mdr trop drôle mon Will y a pas photo !!!)
Will and Jem, mid-book. Victorian bromance !
Will's voice dropped. “Everyone makes mistakes, Jem.”
“Yes,” said Jem. “You just make more of them than most people.”
“You hurt everyone,” said Jem. “Everyone whose life you touch.”
“Not you,” Will whispered. “I hurt everyone but you. I never meant to hurt you.”
Jem put his hands up, pressing his palms against his eyes. “Will —”
“You can’t never forgive me,” Will said in disbelief, hearing the panic tinging his own voice. “I’d be —”
“Alone?” Jem lowered his hand, but he was smiling now, crookedly. “And whose fault is that?”
(OMG je sens que mon coeur va encore être meurtri dans ce livre...)
Et le dernier diffusé cette nuit, sur Jem et Tessa :
“Say something in Mandarin,” said Tessa, with a smile.
Jem said something that sounded like a lot of breathy vowels and consonants run together, his voice rising and falling melodically: “Ni hen piao liang.”
“What did you say?” Tessa was curious.
“I said your hair is coming undone — here,” he said, and reached out and tucked an escaping curl back behind her ear. Tessa felt the blood spill hot up into her face, and was glad for the dimness of the carriage. “You have to be careful with it,” he said, taking his hand back, slowly, his fingers lingering against her cheek.
Dernier extrait révélé : Magnus et ? au sujet de Will :
“He’s Nephilim,” said his companion. “And you’ve never cared for them. How much did he pay you?”
“Nothing,” said Magnus, and now he was not seeing anything that was there, not the river, not Will, only a wash of memories: eyes, faces, lips, receding into memory, love that he could no longer put a name to. “He did me a favor. One he doesn’t even remember.”
“He’s very pretty. For a human.”
“He’s very broken,” said Magnus. “Like a lovely vase that someone has smashed. Only luck and skill can put it back together the way it was before.”
« C’est un Nephillim », dit son compagnon. « Et tu ne t’es jamais préoccupé d’eux. Combien t’a-t-il payé ? »
« Rien », dit Magnus, et désormais il ne voyait plus rien de ce qui était présent, ni la rivière, ni Will, seulement un flot de souvenirs : des yeux, des visages, des lèvres s’estompant en un souvenir, l’amour qu’il ne pouvait plus nommer. « Il m’a rendu un service. Un service dont il ne se souvient même plus."
« Il est très beau. Pour un humain. »
« Il est brisé. » dit Magnus. « Comme un ravissant vase qu’on aurait fracassé et que seuls la chance et le talent peuvent remettre en état. »
Merci à ma cops pour la traduction ;-)Ensuite Cassandra Clare a déclaré qu'une personne vient de lire Clockwork Prince et qu'elle a beaucoup pleuré, au chapitre 19... et que le titre de ce chapitre était "Until I die" (Jusqu'à ce que je meurs).
Il y a aura vraissemblablement des ARCs (advanced readers copies) à gagner d'ici mai/juin. (Il me le faut !!)
Et précédemment elle avait aussi déclaré que Clockwork Prince était le plus triste de toute la trilogie.
source : twitter cassandra clare ainsi que Lilie et Aurélia qui avaient déjà réuni une bonne partie des extraits.