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A Dance With Dragons (A Song of Ice and Fire, Book 5)
 
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A Dance With Dragons (A Song of Ice and Fire, Book 5) [Format Kindle]

George R. R. Martin
4.5 étoiles sur 5  Voir tous les commentaires (73 commentaires client)

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Extrait

Tyrion


He drank his way across the narrow sea.
The ship was small and his cabin smaller, and the captain would not allow him abovedecks. The rocking of the deck beneath his feet made his stomach heave, and the wretched food they served him tasted even worse when retched back up. Besides, why did he need salt beef, hard cheese, and bread crawling with worms when he had wine to nourish him? It was red and sour, very strong. He sometimes heaved the wine up too, but there was always more. "The world is full of wine," he muttered in the dankness of his cabin. His father had never had any use for drunkards, but what did that matter? His father was dead. He ought to know; he'd killed him. A bolt in the belly, my lord, and all for you. If only I was better with a crossbow, I would have put it through that cock you made me with, you bloody bastard.

Below decks there was neither night nor day. Tyrion marked time by the comings and goings of the cabin boy who brought the meals he did not eat. The boy always brought a brush and bucket too, to clean up. "Is this Dornish wine?" Tyrion asked him once, as he pulled a stopper from a skin. "It reminds me of a certain snake I knew. A droll fellow, till a mountain fell on him."

The cabin boy did not answer. He was an ugly boy, though admittedly more comely than a certain dwarf with half a nose and a scar from eye to chin. "Have I offended you?" Tyrion asked the sullen, silent boy, as he was scrubbing. "Were you commanded not to talk to me? Or did some dwarf diddle your mother?"

That went unanswered too. This is pointless, he knew, but he must speak to someone or go mad, so he persisted. "Where are we sailing? Tell me that." Jaime had made mention of the Free Cities, but had never said which one. "Is it Braavos? Tyrosh? Myr?" Tyrion would sooner have gone to Dorne. Myrcella is older than Tommen, by Dornish law the Iron Throne is hers. I will help her claim her rights, as Prince Oberyn suggested.

Oberyn was dead, though, his head smashed to bloody ruin by the armored fist of Ser Gregor Clegane. And without the Red Viper to urge him on, would Doran Martell even consider such a chancy scheme? He may clap me in chains instead, and hand me back to my sweet sister. The Wall might be safer. Old Bear Mormont said the Night's Watch had need of men like Tyrion. Mormont may be dead, though. By now Slynt may be the Lord Commander. That butcher's son was not like to have forgotten who sent him to the Wall. Do I really want to spend the rest of my life eating salt beef and porridge with murderers and thieves? Not that the rest of his life would last very long. Janos Slynt would see to that.

The cabin boy wet his brush and scrubbed on manfully. "Have you ever visited the pleasure houses of Lys?" the dwarf inquired. "Might that be where whores go?" Tyrion could not seem to recall the Valyrian word for whore, and in any case it was too late. The boy tossed his brush back in his bucket and took his leave.

The wine has blurred my wits. He had learned to read High Valyrian at his maester's knee, though what they spoke in the Nine Free Cities... well, it was not so much a dialect as nine dialects on the way to becoming separate tongues. Tyrion had some Braavosi and a smattering of Myrish. In Tyrosh he should be able to curse the gods, call a man a cheat, and order up an ale, thanks to a sellsword he had once known at the Rock. At least in Dorne they spea the Common Tongue. Like Dornish food and Dornish law, Dornish speech was spiced with the flavors of the Rhoyne, but a man could comprehend it. Dorne, yes, Dorne for me. He crawled into his bunk, clutching that thought like a child with a doll.

Sleep had never come easily to Tyrion Lannister. Aboard that ship it seldom came at all, though from time to time he managed to drink sufficient wine to pass out for a while. At least he did not dream. He had dreamt enough for one small life. And of such follies: love, justice, friendship, glory. As well dream of being tall. It was all beyond his reach, Tyrion knew now. But he did not know where whores go.

"Wherever whores go," his father had said. His last words, and what words they were. The crossbow thrummed, Lord Tywin sat back down, and Tyrion Lannister found himself waddling through the darkness with Varys at his side. He must have clambered back down the shaft, two hundred and thirty rungs to where orange embers glowed in the mouth of an iron dragon. He remembered none of it. Only the sound the crossbow made, and the stink of his father's bowels opening. Even in his dying, he found a way to shit on me.

Varys had escorted him through the tunnels, but they never spoke until they emerged beside the Blackwater, where Tyrion had won a famous victory and lost a nose. That was when the dwarf turned to the eunuch and said, "I've killed my father," in the same tone a man might use to say, "I've stubbed my toe." The master of whisperers had been dressed as a begging brother, in a moth-eaten robe of brown roughspun with a cowl that shadowed his smooth fat cheeks and bald round head. "You should not have climbed that ladder," he said reproachfully.

"Wherever whores go." Tyrion warned his father not to say that word. If I had not loosed, he would have seen my threats were empty. He would have taken the crossbow from my hands, as once he took Tysha from my arms. He was rising when I killed him. "I killed Shae too," he confessed to Varys.

"You knew what she was."

"I did. But I never knew what he was."

Varys tittered. "And now you do."

I should have killed the eunuch as well. A little more blood on his hands, what would it matter? He could not say what had stayed his dagger. Not gratitude. Varys had saved him from a headsman's sword, but only because Jaime had compelled him. Jaime... no, better not to think of Jaime.

He found a fresh skin of wine instead, and sucked at it as if it were a woman's breast. The sour red ran down his chin and soaked through his soiled tunic, the same one he had been wearing in his cell. He sucked until the wine was gone. The deck was swaying beneath his feet, and when he tried to rise it lifted sideways and smashed him hard against a bulkhead. A storm, he realized, or else I am even drunker than I knew. He retched the wine up and lay in it a while, wondering if the ship would sink.

Is this your vengeance, Father? Have the Father Above made you his Hand? "Such are the wages of the kinslayer," he said as the wind howled outside. It did not seem fair to drown the cabin boy and the captain and all the rest for something he had done, but when had the gods ever been fair? And around about then, the darkness gulped him down

When he stirred again, his head felt like to burst and the ship was spinning round in dizzy circles, though the captain was insisting that they'd come to port. Tyrion told him to be quiet, and kicked feebly as a huge bald sailor tucked him under one arm and carried him squirming to the hold, where an empty wine cask awaited him. It was a squat little cask, and a tight fit even for a dwarf. Tyrion pissed himself in his struggles, for all the good it did. He was up crammed face first into the cask with his knees pushed up against his ears. The stub of his nose itched horribly, but his arms were pinned so tightly that he could not reach to scratch it. A palanquin fit for a man of my stature, he thought as they hammered shut the lid and hoisted him up. He could hear voices shouting as he was jounced along. Every bounce cracked his head against the bottom of the cask. The world went round and round as the cask rolled downward, then stopped with a sudden crash that made him want to scream. Another cask slammed into his, and Tyrion bit his tongue.

That was the longest journey he had ever taken, though it could not have lasted more than half an hour. He was lifted and lowered, rolled and stacked, upended and righted and rolled again. Through the wooden staves he heard men shouting, and once a horse whickered nearby. His stunted legs began to cramp, and soon hurt so badly that he forgot the hammering in his head.

It ended as it had begun, with another roll that left him dizzy and more jouncing. Outside strange voices were speaking in a tongue he did not know. Someone started pounding on the top of the cask and the lid cracked open suddenly. Light came flooding in, and cool air as well. Tyrion gasped greedily and tried to stand, but only managed to knock the cask over sideways and spill himself out onto a hard-packed earthen floor.

Above him loomed a grotesque fat man with a forked yellow beard, holding a wooden mallet and an iron chisel. His bedrobe was large enough to serve as a tourney pavilion, but its loosely knotted belt had come undone, exposing a huge white belly and a pair of heavy breasts that sagged like sacks of suet covered with coarse yellow hair. He reminded Tyrion of a dead sea cow that had once washed up in the caverns under Casterly Rock.

The fat man looked down and smiled. "A drunken dwarf," he said, in the Common Tongue of Westeros.

"A rotting sea cow." Tyrion's mouth was full of blood. He spat it at the fat man's feet. They were in a long dim cellar with barrel-vaulted ceilings, its stone walls spotted with nitre. Casks of wine and ale surrounded them, more than enough drink to see a thirsty dwarf safely through the night. Or through a life.

"You are insolent. I like that in a dwarf." When the fat man laughed, his flesh bounced so vigorously that Tyrion was afraid he might fall and crush him. "Are you hungry, my little friend? Weary?"

"Thirsty." Tyrion struggled to his knees. "And filthy."

The fat man sniffed. "A bath first, just so....

Revue de presse

PRAISE FOR GEORGE R. R. MARTIN’S
A SONG OF ICE AND FIRE
 
“What’s A Song of Ice and Fire? It’s the only fantasy series I’d put on a level with J.R.R. Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings. . . . It’s a fantasy series for hip, smart people, even those who don’t read fantasy.”—Chicago Tribune
  
A Game of Thrones
 
“Reminiscent of T. H. White’s The Once and Future King, this novel is an absorbing combination of the mythic, the sweepingly historical, and the intensely personal.”—Chicago Sun-Times
 
A Clash of Kings
 
“Martin amply fulfills the first volume’s promise and continues what seems destined to be one of the best fantasy series ever written.”—The Denver Post
 
A Storm of Swords
 
“Riveting . . . a series whose brilliance continues to dazzle.”—Patriot News
 
A Feast for Crows
 
“Of those who work in the grand epic-fantasy tradition, Martin is by far the best. In fact . . . this is as good a time as any to proclaim him the American Tolkien.”—Time

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48 internautes sur 52 ont trouvé ce commentaire utile 
3.0 étoiles sur 5 Un tome un peu frustrant 28 août 2011
Format:Relié
[spoilers probables]

D'entrée il faut dire que le livre est bien écrit, intéressant, que c'est un bon divertissement. Ci-dessous je mets l'accent seulement sur les points qui me paraissent négatifs. Il ne faut pas comparer la note d'ensemble à ce qui suit.

Très intéressant et très bien écrit donc (malgré quelques phrases gimmicks qui finissent par taper sur le système). Mais l'histoire patine dans la choucroute.

Après 500 pages de lecture il ne s''est encore rien passé. Là, je me suis dit que les éditions Pygmalions qui sont censées sortir le bouquin, divisé en trois tomes répartis sur un an, vont avoir beaucoup de mal à remplir les deux premiers volumes. Du moins à les remplir avec autre chose que du 'chit-chat'.

Les trois personnages principaux (Daenerys, Jon, Tyrion) font du surplace.
- L'histoire de Jon est la plus intéressante, quoi que la fin du dernier chapitre soit assez frustrante (surtout si on doit attendre cinq ans de plus) mais je n'ai pas trop peur pour lui, vu l'évolution des personnages.
- Celle de Daenerys par contre est relativement ennuyeuse. J'aime découvrir le monde que George R. R. Martin a créé, mais à un moment on se dit que si ses personnages continuent sans cesse de s'égarer (toujours plus loin. Qu'est-ce qu'il y a à l'est de Meereen, tiens ?...) ça sera difficile de donner une issue au synopsis de base. J'avoue une très (très) grande préférence pour les évènements qui se passent à Westeros.
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33 internautes sur 37 ont trouvé ce commentaire utile 
4.0 étoiles sur 5 "Kill the boy within you" 16 août 2011
Par Lady Lama TOP 500 COMMENTATEURS VOIX VINE
Format:Relié
« A Dance With Dragons » est le cinquième tome tant attendu de la série du « Trône de Fer ». Que les lecteurs n'ayant pas lu les 4 tomes précédents passent leur chemin, ils ne comprendront rien à l'avis...

Alors ?

Et bien çà m'a fait l'effet du deuxième tome du « Nom du Vent » : beaucoup de pages (très bien écrites, comme toujours) pour pas grand-chose au final. On tourne en rond, si ce n'est que Jon prend de plus en plus l'épaisseur d'un meneur d'hommes (ce qui était attendu par tous les lecteurs je pense...) et que certaines familles semblent (définitivement ?) se retirer du jeu...

Mais je me suis beaucoup divertie et je n'ai pas eu vraiment conscience de l'épaisseur du volume, tant les histoires sont multiples (du coup je doute qu'on passe plus de quelques centaines de pages avec chaque personnage...).

Le roman est tout aussi noir que les précédents, avec des traîtrises, du sang, des tortures et avec son lot de personnages passés à trépas d'une manière ou d'une autre (dont un méchant qui hantait la série depuis un bout de temps et qui passe enfin à trépas, oufffff). Ce tome raffermit le côté fantastique de la série, avec la magie de plus en plus présente.

Dans ce tome on retrouve donc :
- Jon Snow :
Bien loin du falot qui l'incarne dans la série éponyme, il prend ici de plus en plus d'épaisseur et c'est de loin son histoire (qui est d'ailleurs la plus développée) que j'ai préférée.
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3 internautes sur 3 ont trouvé ce commentaire utile 
5.0 étoiles sur 5 vivement la suite 14 mai 2014
Par T.
Format:Format Kindle|Achat vérifié
Demarrage dificile pour une lecture en anglais car j'avais commence par les tomes en francais. C'est le prix de la version française qui m'a fait change et je ne suis pas decue! Je lis sur le kindle, j'ai donc accès au dictionnaire instantanément et ce n'est pas du luxe car j'en avais aussi besoin pour la lecture en francais (vocabulaire parfois avec des mots anciens).
Pour l'histoire: je ne serai pas la source de spoiler, mais il me tarde de lire la suite!
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4.0 étoiles sur 5 Un tome 5 prometteur après un tome 4 assez décevant 21 janvier 2013
Par Chris TOP 500 COMMENTATEURS
Format:Broché|Achat vérifié
"A Dance with Dragons" m'a laissée sur deux sensations contradictoires :
1) l'impression de piétiner depuis 2 tomes, même si ce dernier m'a beaucoup moins ennuyée que le précédent ("A feast of crows").
2) l'impatience de connaître la suite, car Georges R R Martin trouve le moyen de nous laisser sur un terrible "cliffhanger" au dernier chapitre...

Dans tous les cas, je dois avouer que l'intrigue qui me passionne le plus est celle qui se déroule dans le nord, autour du Mur et au-delà (Jon, Bran, Wildlings, Stannis...). Après tout, si le fameux adage "winter is coming" prend tout son sens, c'est bien là bas ! Tout ce qui se passe au sud ou ailleurs me captive moins qu'au début, et c'est bien dommage.
En effet, hormis les événements du Nord qui nous maintiennent en haleine, je dirais que le roman piétine, et devient même carrément pénible à lire par moment. La plupart des personnages principaux tournent en rond, ou s'éparpillent dans des pérégrinations, des détours dont on a des difficultés à cerner l'objectif. Le plus passionnant d'entre tous, Tyrion, m'intéressait beaucoup dans les tomes précédents, mais là.. j'avoue avoir lu la plupart de ses chapitres en accéléré ! C'est un comble !
L'histoire d'Arya devient incompréhensible, je n'arrive pas à saisir l'intention de Georges RR Martin la concernant (mais la sait-il seulement ?).
Quant à Daenerys, on a envie de lui demander d'accélérer un peu le pas vers Westeros.
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5.0 étoiles sur 5 Ne s'essouffle toujours pas
Des 5 livres, celui-ci est le meilleur avec le 1er et le 3ème. On a toujours une petite appréhension en voyant venir un livre de près de 1100 pages. Lire la suite
Publié il y a 3 jours par M. Jerome Milac
5.0 étoiles sur 5 Génial
C'est juste une des meilleurs séries de SF avec Dune, alors, ne vous privez pas ! Apres cela, il sera difficile de lire de la SF ....
Publié il y a 23 jours par manuzed78
4.0 étoiles sur 5 bon livre, bien maîtrise
Martin est devenu maître dans l'art de faire naître et d'entretenir le suspense. Il s'attarde beaucoup sur le point de vue et les sentiments des personnages et l'organisation de la... Lire la suite
Publié il y a 24 jours par Disciple82
5.0 étoiles sur 5 Great
Nice cover, nice book. It was for a present and the person just loved it. I am very very satisfied.
Publié il y a 1 mois par literate
5.0 étoiles sur 5 game of throne tome 5
un bon 5 pour allié ma passion de game of thrones avec mon developpement de l'anglais ( Je suis pas prêt de le terminer ! )
Publié il y a 1 mois par johan DORDAIN
5.0 étoiles sur 5 Meilleur que le tome 4
La série est toujours aussi palpitante.

Et alors que le tome 4 adoptait un rythme plus lent plus adapté aux personnages suivis, on revient là... Lire la suite
Publié il y a 1 mois par Arnaud
5.0 étoiles sur 5 Excellent
Je ne pouvais pas attendre la cinquième saison en série, j'ai donc commandé le livre, que j'ai reçu très rapidement et que j'ai lu en seulement 3... Lire la suite
Publié il y a 2 mois par ferreira
5.0 étoiles sur 5 Fantasy at its best
A Song Of Ice And Fire is the best Fantasy book since Lord Of The Rings. This tome is worth the other ones.
Publié il y a 2 mois par Yann Channac
4.0 étoiles sur 5 encore un œuvre de maître
Superbe. Une histoire plein de méandres, de surprise inattendues qui te tient en haleine et qui te laisse en attente du prochain ...
Publié il y a 3 mois par Ian McMartin
4.0 étoiles sur 5 Excellent, mais...
...mais faut vraiment s'accrocher, parce que c'est du bon anglais; Pas le même niveau que la version originale de Harry Potter. Lire la suite
Publié il y a 5 mois par N.R
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