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Eragon: Book One
 
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Eragon: Book One [Format Kindle]

Christopher Paolini
4.4 étoiles sur 5  Voir tous les commentaires (18 commentaires client)

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Descriptions du produit

Amazon.com

Here's a great big fantasy that you can pull over your head like a comfy old sweater and disappear into for a whole weekend. Christopher Paolini began Eragon when he was just 15, and the book shows the influence of Tolkien, of course, but also Terry Brooks, Anne McCaffrey, and perhaps even Wagner in its traditional quest structure and the generally agreed-upon nature of dwarves, elves, dragons, and heroic warfare with magic swords.

Eragon, a young farm boy, finds a marvelous blue stone in a mystical mountain place. Before he can trade it for food to get his family through the hard winter, it hatches a beautiful sapphire-blue dragon, a race thought to be extinct. Eragon bonds with the dragon, and when his family is killed by the marauding Ra'zac, he discovers that he is the last of the Dragon Riders, fated to play a decisive part in the coming war between the human but hidden Varden, dwarves, elves, the diabolical Shades and their neanderthal Urgalls, all pitted against and allied with each other and the evil King Galbatorix. Eragon and his dragon Saphira set out to find their role, growing in magic power and understanding of the complex political situation as they endure perilous travels and sudden battles, dire wounds, capture and escape.

In spite of the engrossing action, this is not a book for the casual fantasy reader. There are 65 names of people, horses, and dragons to be remembered and lots of pseudo-Celtic places, magic words, and phrases in the Ancient Language as well as the speech of the dwarfs and the Urgalls. But the maps and glossaries help, and by the end, readers will be utterly dedicated and eager for the next book, Eldest. (Ages 10 to 14) --Patty Campbell

Extrait

DISCOVERY

Eragon knelt in a bed of trampled reed grass and scanned the tracks with a practiced eye. The prints told him that the deer had been in the meadow only a half-hour before. Soon they would bed down. His target, a small doe with a pronounced limp in her left forefoot, was still with the herd. He was amazed she had made it so far without a wolf or bear catching her.

The sky was clear and dark, and a slight breeze stirred the air. A silvery cloud drifted over the mountains that surrounded him, its edges glowing with ruddy light cast from the harvest moon cradled between two peaks. Streams flowed down the mountains from stolid glaciers and glistening snowpacks. A brooding mist crept along the valley’s floor, almost thick enough to obscure his feet.

Eragon was fifteen, less than a year from manhood. Dark eyebrows rested above his intense brown eyes. His clothes were worn from work. A hunting knife with a bone handle was sheathed at his belt, and a buckskin tube protected his yew bow from the mist. He carried a wood-frame pack.

The deer had led him deep into the Spine, a range of untamed mountains that extended up and down the land of Alagaësia. Strange tales and men often came from those mountains, usually boding ill. Despite that, Eragon did not fear the Spine–he was the only hunter near Carvahall who dared track game deep into its craggy recesses.

It was the third night of the hunt, and his food was half gone. If he did not fell the doe, he would be forced to return home empty- handed. His family needed the meat for the rapidly approaching winter and could not afford to buy it in Carvahall.

Eragon stood with quiet assurance in the dusky moonlight, then strode into the forest toward a glen where he was sure the deer would rest. The trees blocked the sky from view and cast feathery shadows on the ground. He looked at the tracks only occasionally; he knew the way.

At the glen, he strung his bow with a sure touch, then drew three arrows and nocked one, holding the others in his left hand. The moonlight revealed twenty or so motionless lumps where the deer lay in the grass. The doe he wanted was at the edge of the herd, her left foreleg stretched out awkwardly.

Eragon slowly crept closer, keeping the bow ready. All his work of the past three days had led to this moment. He took a last steadying breath and–an explosion shattered the night.

The herd bolted. Eragon lunged forward, racing through the grass as a fiery wind surged past his cheek. He slid to a stop and loosed an arrow at the bounding doe. It missed by a finger’s breadth and hissed into darkness. He cursed and spun around, instinctively nocking another arrow.

Behind him, where the deer had been, smoldered a large circle of grass and trees. Many of the pines stood bare of their needles. The grass outside the charring was flattened. A wisp of smoke curled in the air, carrying a burnt smell. In the center of the blast radius lay a polished blue stone. Mist snaked across the scorched area and swirled insubstantial tendrils over the stone.

Eragon watched for danger for several long minutes, but the only thing that moved was the mist. Cautiously, he released the tension from his bow and moved forward. Moonlight cast him in pale
shadow as he stopped before the stone. He nudged it with an arrow, then jumped back. Nothing happened, so he warily picked it up.

Nature had never polished a stone as smooth as this one. Its flawless surface was dark blue, except for thin veins of white that spiderwebbed across it. The stone was cool and frictionless under his fingers, like hardened silk. Oval and about a foot long, it weighed several pounds, though it felt lighter than it should have.

Eragon found the stone both beautiful and frightening. Where did it come from? Does it have a purpose? Then a more disturbing thought came to him: Was it sent here by accident, or am I meant to have it? If he had learned anything from the old stories, it was to treat magic, and those who used it, with great caution.

But what should I do with the stone? It would be tiresome to carry, and there was a chance it was dangerous. It might be better to leave it behind. A flicker of indecision ran through him, and he almost dropped it, but something stayed his hand. At the very least, it might pay for some food, he decided with a shrug, tucking the stone into his pack.

The glen was too exposed to make a safe camp, so he slipped back into the forest and spread his bedroll beneath the upturned roots of a fallen tree. After a cold dinner of bread and cheese, he wrapped himself in blankets and fell asleep, pondering what had occurred.


PALANCAR VALLEY

The sun rose the next morning with a glorious conflagration of pink and yellow. The air was fresh, sweet, and very cold. Ice edged the streams, and small pools were completely frozen over. After a breakfast of porridge, Eragon returned to the glen and examined the charred area. The morning light revealed no new details, so he started for home.

The rough game trail was faintly worn and, in places, nonexistent. Because it had been forged by animals, it often backtracked and took long detours. Yet for all its flaws, it was still the fastest way out of the mountains.

The Spine was one of the only places that King Galbatorix could not call his own. Stories were still told about how half his army disappeared after marching into its ancient forest. A cloud of misfortune and bad luck seemed to hang over it. Though the trees grew tall and the sky shone brightly, few people could stay in the Spine for long without suffering an accident. Eragon was one of those few–not through any particular gift, it seemed to him, but because of persistent vigilance and sharp reflexes. He had hiked in the mountains for years, yet he was still wary of them. Every time he thought they had surrendered their secrets, something happened to upset his understanding of them–like the stone’s appearance.

He kept up a brisk pace, and the leagues steadily disappeared. In late evening he arrived at the edge of a precipitous ravine. The Anora River rushed by far below, heading to Palancar Valley. Gorged with hundreds of tiny streams, the river was a brute force, battling against the rocks and boulders that barred its way. A low rumble filled the air.

He camped in a thicket near the ravine and watched the moonrise before going to bed.

It grew colder over the next day and a half. Eragon traveled quickly and saw little of the wary wildlife. A bit past noon, he heard the Igualda Falls blanketing everything with the dull sound of a thousand splashes. The trail led him onto a moist slate outcropping, which the river sped past, flinging itself into empty air and down mossy cliffs.

Before him lay Palancar Valley, exposed like an unrolled map. The base of the Igualda Falls, more than a half-mile below, was the northernmost point of the valley. A little ways from the falls was Carvahall, a cluster of brown buildings. White smoke rose from the chimneys, defiant of the wilderness around it. At this height, farms were small square patches no bigger than the end of his finger. The land around them was tan or sandy, where dead grass swayed in the wind. The Anora River wound from the falls toward Palancar’s southern end, reflecting great strips of sunlight. Far in the distance it flowed past the village Therinsford and the lonely mountain Utgard. Beyond that, he knew only that it turned north and ran to the sea.

After a pause, Eragon left the outcropping and started down the trail, grimacing at the descent. When he arrived at the bottom, soft dusk was creeping over everything, blurring colors and shapes into gray masses. Carvahall’s lights shimmered nearby in the twilight; the houses cast long shadows. Aside from Therinsford, Carvahall was the only village in Palancar Valley. The settlement was secluded and surrounded by harsh, beautiful land. Few traveled here except merchants and trappers.

The village was composed of stout log buildings with low roofs–some thatched, others shingled. Smoke billowed from the chim neys, giving the air a woody smell. The buildings had wide porches where people gathered to talk and conduct business. Occasionally a window brightened as a candle or lamp was lit. Eragon heard men talking loudly in the evening air while wives scurried to fetch their husbands, scolding them for being late.

Eragon wove his way between the houses to the butcher’s shop, a broad, thick-beamed building. Overhead, the chimney belched black smoke.

He pushed the door open. The spacious room was warm and well lit by a fire snapping in a stone fireplace. A bare counter stretched across the far side of the room. The floor was strewn with loose straw. Everything was scrupulously clean, as if the owner spent his leisure time digging in obscure crannies for minuscule pieces of filth. Behind the counter stood the butcher Sloan. A small man, he wore a cotton shirt and a long, bloodstained smock. An impressive array of knives swung from his belt. He had a sallow, pockmarked face, and his black eyes were suspicious. He polished the counter with a ragged cloth.

Sloan’s mouth twisted as Eragon entered. “Well, the mighty hunter joins the rest of us mortals. How many did you bag this time?”

“None,” was Eragon’s curt reply. He had never liked Sloan. The butcher always treated him with disdain, as if he were something unclean. A widower, Sloan seemed to care for only one person–his daughter, Katrina, on whom he doted.

“I’m amazed,” said Sloan with affected astonishment. He turned his back on Eragon to scrape something off the wall. “And that’s your reason for coming here?”

“Yes,” admitted Eragon uncomfortably.

“If that’s the case, let’s see your money.” Sloan tapped his fingers when Eragon shifted his feet and remain...

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En savoir plus sur l'auteur

Christopher Paolini, qui a publié Eragon à 15 ans, a grandi à l'ombre des montagnes du Montana, un décor qui l'a inspiré ! À l'évidence, son éducation « à la maison », par une mère formée à la méthode Montessori, a éveillé en lui une créativité exceptionnelle. Car, s'il est nourri de Tolkien et des légendes nordiques, il se révèle doté d'un riche imaginaire personnel et d'un prodigieux sens du récit, passant avec virtuosité - dans ce troisième opus - de l'épique au poétique, de la violence à l'humour, de la cruauté à la tendresse, pour le plus grand plaisir de ses lecteurs !



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Commentaires client les plus utiles
7 internautes sur 8 ont trouvé ce commentaire utile 
5.0 étoiles sur 5 A dévorer comme le ferait un dragon ! 27 octobre 2006
Par Aranval TOP 1000 COMMENTATEURS VOIX VINE
Format:Broché
Etant un grand lecteur de fantasy, j'ai trouvé ce récit des plus palpitants. Certes les personnages n'ont pas la profondeur psychologique de ceux de Robin Hobb, mais ce que le récit perd en description, il le gagne en action. Car du début à la fin de ce premier volume, le héros ne connait pas de répit. L'univers, qui est certes très fortement inspiré de celui de Tolkien, m'a enchanté car j'ai apprécié de retrouver ces elfes et ces nains si particuliers mais si magiques.

La relation entre le héros Eragon et sa dragonne Saphira est particulièrement attachante et répond à notre désir de lien avec cette créature de légende.

Bref, j'ai litttéralement dévoré ce premier tome de la trilogie et je vous le recommande. Et même si c'est dans le rayon jeunesse, c'est un roman de fantasy pour tous les âges.
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24 internautes sur 29 ont trouvé ce commentaire utile 
5.0 étoiles sur 5 Absolument charmant! 3 janvier 2005
Par lapousmor
Format:Belle reliure|Achat vérifié
Voilà un jeune auteur qui a de l'avenir! Le style est léger et limpide. J'ai lu les aventures du jeune Eragon avec délectation. Tous les personnages sont attachants. Je me suis facilement mise dans la peau du héro et ai partagé ses émotions du début à la fin de ce merveilleux tome 1. J'adore Saphira. Moi aussi j'aimerais avoir un dragon bleu qui communique avec moi par la pensée et me fait voir à travers ses yeux! Qui n'a jamais rêvé de mots purs aux pouvoirs magiques, d'elfes et autres créatures? Et puis, vous conviendrez que n'est pas souvent que l'auteur illustre lui-même ses livres avec autant de talent! Je n'ai qu'un seul regret: il faut attendre pour connaître la suite!!! Pour patienter, je l'ai déjà lu une deuxième fois, avec tout autant d'intéret. Bravo Christopher! Continue à nous emporter dans ton monde magique et fait nous vibrer!
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1.0 étoiles sur 5 oh 22 février 2014
Format:Format Kindle|Achat vérifié
J'ai téléchargé ce livre en anglais sans le savoir, méfiez-vous, ce n'est pas indiqué, même l'extrait à feuilleter est en français, comment peut-on deviner ?
Prenez une autre édition kindle, sauf si vous voulez un bouquin en anglais avec des mots "fantastiques" que l'on apprend généralement pas en cours...
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3.0 étoiles sur 5 trés beau cadeau pour noel 8 février 2014
Format:Broché|Achat vérifié
merci pour ce livre qui a comblé ma petite sœur pour son noël. Un accès à cette version en anglais rapide .
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5.0 étoiles sur 5 Fantastique ! 29 août 2011
Par Isabelle
Format:Poche|Achat vérifié
Excellent début d'une grande sage d'initiatin heroic fantasy par un auteur de 17 ans - 2 ans de plus que le héros débutant :-)
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4.0 étoiles sur 5 un peu de fraîcheur dans le monde fantastique 25 janvier 2011
Format:Broché
Un parfait exemple de littérature jeunesse tout à fait adaptée à un public plus âgé. L'auteur apporte beaucoup de fraîcheur aux codes du genre et revisite dragons, elfes et autres créatures de légende avec un style simple mais pas simpliste. L'histoire est bien rythmée, les personnages attachants. Il maintient le niveau dans le 2e tome mais malheureusement il s'enlise dans le 3e, qui est un peu bâclé. Espérons que la suite soit mieux ficelée.
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10 internautes sur 14 ont trouvé ce commentaire utile 
5.0 étoiles sur 5 Bon livre 4 février 2006
Format:Broché
C'est un bon bouquin pour les 10/14 ans. Enfin, je l'ai bien aimé à 42 ans mais je suis instit en classe de cm2 et il fait un tabac dans ma classe.
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1 internautes sur 2 ont trouvé ce commentaire utile 
Par NMK
Format:Broché
Cette épopée se déroule dans un monde fait d'humains, de nains, d'elfes, de monstres et de dragons et nous fait découvrir Eragon, jeune orphelin de 16 ans obligé de fuir le petit village de Carhahall où il a été élevé par son oncle depuis sa naissance, et sa belle dragonne Saphira. Leur fuite désespérée à travers l'Empire de l'Alagaëisa se métamorphosera progressivement en quête tandis qu'ils se découvriront des alliés inattendus et que leur rôle dans ce monde changeant deviendra plus clair.

Les sources d'inspiration sont relativement claires (Tolkien, "Star Wars", Robin Hobb, Terry Brooks et Anne McCaffrey entre autres) mais ceci n'enlève rien à cette histoire merveilleuse, attachante (oh sublime Saphira qui nous fait tant rêver), pleine d'action et de rebondissements. Ce récit présente de plus la qualité essentielle d'être moins hermétique que beaucoup d'autres livres de "Fantasy" et se lit donc très facilement.
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5.0 étoiles sur 5 PARFAIT
Rien de particulier à dire, réception rapide, état du colis parfait. Ne reste plus à venir que le plaisir de le lire.
Publié il y a 20 mois par J-claude Rabusseau
5.0 étoiles sur 5 Eragon book one
Ce livre est l'objet d'un cadeau pour un enfant Américain, je ne peux donc pas parler du contenu mais j'en ai entendu le plus grand bien.
Publié il y a 23 mois par MORTREUIL Béatrice
5.0 étoiles sur 5 ERAGON tome 1
très bon achat et bonne lecture je connaissais le film et le fait de lire le livre m'a evdemment beaucoup plu
merci
Publié le 7 septembre 2012 par julana
5.0 étoiles sur 5 lecture très interessante
Ce fut une commande rapide et sérieuse, et le livre corespond tout à fait à ma demande. Vendeur à recommander.
Publié le 16 mai 2010 par El Mghari Khadija
5.0 étoiles sur 5 a lire
je ne sais que dire mais si vous le commencez vous ne pourrez pas le lâcher, trop prenant, un excellent livre d'aventure
Publié le 19 juillet 2009 par Garcia
5.0 étoiles sur 5 Passionant
Livre très prenant, du début à la fin! Je le recommande à tous les accros de fantasy
Publié le 15 avril 2008 par MissC
3.0 étoiles sur 5 Un moment agréable en Alagaësia (La comté) ...
Christopher Paolini est certainement tombé dans la marmite de la Fantasy et Tolkien a certainement été son Père Spirituel... Lire la suite
Publié le 25 mai 2007 par Felarof
5.0 étoiles sur 5 Très bon
Pour ceux qui auront vu le film avant de lire le livre: l'oeuvre écrite est beaucoup plus prenante et la trame plus travaillée et plus complexe. Lire la suite
Publié le 5 avril 2007 par Earl_Mayer
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