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Critique de Charybde2
Londres, années 50 : meet Tony Gérard, le privé sentimental et gentleman, ex des Forces Spéciales en Europe occupée.
Publié en 2011, le second roman de Colin Murray introduit le personnage de Tony Gérard.
Cet enquêteur privé, dans la Londres des années 50, travaille essentiellement pour un producteur de cinéma, assurant notamment les menues investigations nécessaires à la sécurité et à la tranquillité des vedettes sous contrat... Ancien des Forces Spéciales, très activement impliqué dans les actions de la Résistance en France occupée durant la guerre, il tente de survivre au quotidien dans un pays où l'aristocratie et l'oligarchie issues d'Oxford et de Cambridge doivent désormais compter avec un puissant mouvement "social" (les Travaillistes ont été au pouvoir de 1945 à 1951 et ont lancé le véritable "Etat-Providence" moderne) mais aussi avec les infiltrations communistes, dont les élites ne sont pas abritées (les espions McLean et Burgess ont été démasqués en 1951).
Sentimental, gentleman, haut en couleurs, un détective extrêmement attachant dans un décor relativement inhabituel... Une excellente idée de traduction à conduire pour un éditeur français !
"My roomful of armed French commies was no longer quite as pressing a problem as it had been. In fact, my study boasted only one. Emile had evidently drawn the short straw, and while the others, including Ghislaine, had set off on the heroic quest to find the café of London legend selling good coffee and fresh croissants, he sat at my desk unhappily nursing a lukewarm cup of Typhoo tea."
"Jerry was morose and uncommunicative, but I decided to ignore that. Anyway, every Englishman ought to have his heart broken by a sophisticated Frenchwoman at least once in his life."
"Confidence is everything, Robert whispered to me once. I thought I'd give it a go. "So", I said brightly, "anyone heard the football scores ? How did Orient get on ?"
"No one's heard the football scores, Mr Gérard", Jenkins said softly. "We've been chasing you over half of Cambridgeshire. Remember ?"
"Funnily enough", I said, "I do. You tend to not forget people shooting at you. Or cracking your skull." I paused. "Do you, Jan ?"
Jenkins coughed and looked up at the ceiling. "Mr Gérard," he said slowly, "there is nothing, absolutely nothing, stopping Alfred from taking you into the garden and - he paused, - "disposing of you for good." He paused again. "Except my good nature. Please don't take advantage of that."
I took the hint and shut up. Robert had also told me that sometimes confidence isn't confidence at all, but foolhardiness, and that most men recognize the difference."
Publié en 2011, le second roman de Colin Murray introduit le personnage de Tony Gérard.
Cet enquêteur privé, dans la Londres des années 50, travaille essentiellement pour un producteur de cinéma, assurant notamment les menues investigations nécessaires à la sécurité et à la tranquillité des vedettes sous contrat... Ancien des Forces Spéciales, très activement impliqué dans les actions de la Résistance en France occupée durant la guerre, il tente de survivre au quotidien dans un pays où l'aristocratie et l'oligarchie issues d'Oxford et de Cambridge doivent désormais compter avec un puissant mouvement "social" (les Travaillistes ont été au pouvoir de 1945 à 1951 et ont lancé le véritable "Etat-Providence" moderne) mais aussi avec les infiltrations communistes, dont les élites ne sont pas abritées (les espions McLean et Burgess ont été démasqués en 1951).
Sentimental, gentleman, haut en couleurs, un détective extrêmement attachant dans un décor relativement inhabituel... Une excellente idée de traduction à conduire pour un éditeur français !
"My roomful of armed French commies was no longer quite as pressing a problem as it had been. In fact, my study boasted only one. Emile had evidently drawn the short straw, and while the others, including Ghislaine, had set off on the heroic quest to find the café of London legend selling good coffee and fresh croissants, he sat at my desk unhappily nursing a lukewarm cup of Typhoo tea."
"Jerry was morose and uncommunicative, but I decided to ignore that. Anyway, every Englishman ought to have his heart broken by a sophisticated Frenchwoman at least once in his life."
"Confidence is everything, Robert whispered to me once. I thought I'd give it a go. "So", I said brightly, "anyone heard the football scores ? How did Orient get on ?"
"No one's heard the football scores, Mr Gérard", Jenkins said softly. "We've been chasing you over half of Cambridgeshire. Remember ?"
"Funnily enough", I said, "I do. You tend to not forget people shooting at you. Or cracking your skull." I paused. "Do you, Jan ?"
Jenkins coughed and looked up at the ceiling. "Mr Gérard," he said slowly, "there is nothing, absolutely nothing, stopping Alfred from taking you into the garden and - he paused, - "disposing of you for good." He paused again. "Except my good nature. Please don't take advantage of that."
I took the hint and shut up. Robert had also told me that sometimes confidence isn't confidence at all, but foolhardiness, and that most men recognize the difference."
