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The City & The City (English Edition) [Format Kindle]

China Miéville
4.0 étoiles sur 5  Voir tous les commentaires (4 commentaires client)

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Descriptions du produit


Chapter One

I could not see the street or much of the estate. We were enclosed by dirt-coloured blocks, from windows out of which leaned vested men and women with morning hair and mugs of drink, eating breakfast and watching us. This open ground between the buildings had once been sculpted. It pitched like a golf course—a child’s mimicking of geography. Maybe they had been going to wood it and put in a pond. There was a copse but the saplings were dead.

The grass was weedy, threaded with paths footwalked between rubbish, rutted by wheel tracks. There were police at various tasks. I wasn’t the first detective there—I saw Bardo Naustin and a couple of others— but I was the most senior. I followed the sergeant to where most of my colleagues clustered, between a low derelict tower and a skateboard park ringed by big drum-shaped trash bins. Just beyond it we could hear the docks. A bunch of kids sat on a wall before standing officers. The gulls coiled over the gathering.

“Inspector.” I nodded at whomever that was. Someone offered a coffee but I shook my head and looked at the woman I had come to see.

She lay near the skate ramps. Nothing is still like the dead are still. The wind moves their hair, as it moved hers, and they don’t respond at all. She was in an ugly pose, with legs crooked as if about to get up, her arms in a strange bend. Her face was to the ground.

A young woman, brown hair pulled into pigtails poking up like plants. She was almost naked, and it was sad to see her skin smooth that cold morning, unbroken by gooseflesh. She wore only laddered stockings, one high heel on. Seeing me look for it, a sergeant waved at me from a way off, from where she guarded the dropped shoe.

It was a couple of hours since the body had been discovered. I looked her over. I held my breath and bent down toward the dirt, to look at her face, but I could only see one open eye.

“Where’s Shukman?”

“Not here yet, Inspector…”

“Someone call him, tell him to get a move on.” I smacked my watch. I was in charge of what we called the mise-en-crime. No one would move her until Shukman the patho had come, but there were other things to do. I checked sightlines. We were out of the way and the garbage containers obscured us, but I could feel attention on us like insects, from all over the estate. We milled.

There was a wet mattress on its edge between two of the bins, by a spread of rusting iron pieces interwoven with discarded chains. “That was on her.” The constable who spoke was Lizbyet Corwi, a smart young woman I’d worked with a couple of times. “Couldn’t exactly say she was well hidden, but it sort of made her look like a pile of rubbish, I guess.” I could see a rough rectangle of darker earth surrounding the dead woman—the remains of the ?mattress-?sheltered dew. Naustin was squatting by it, staring at the earth.

“The kids who found her tipped it half off,” Corwi said.

“How did they find her?”

Corwi pointed at the earth, at little scuffs of animal paws.

“Stopped her getting mauled. Ran like hell when they saw what it was, made the call. Our lot, when they arrived?.?.?.?” She glanced at two patrolmen I ?didn’t know.

“They moved it?”

She nodded. “See if she was still alive, they said.”

“What are their names?”

“Shushkil and Briamiv.”

“And these are the finders?” I nodded at the guarded kids. There were two girls, two guys. Midteens, cold, looking down.

“Yeah. Chewers.”

“Early morning pick-you-up?”

“That’s dedication, hm?” she said. “Maybe they’re up for junkies of the month or some shit. They got here a bit before seven. The skate pit’s organised that way, apparently. It’s only been built a couple of years, used to be nothing, but the locals’ve got their shift patterns down. Midnight to nine a.m., chewers only; nine to eleven, local gang plans the day; eleven to midnight, skateboards and rollerblades.”

“They carrying?”

“One of the boys has a little shiv, but really little. Couldn’t mug a milkrat with it—it’s a toy. And a chew each. That’s it.” She shrugged. “The dope wasn’t on them; we found it by the wall, but”— shrug—“they were the only ones around.”

She motioned over one of our colleagues and opened the bag he carried. Little bundles of resin-slathered grass. Feld is its street name—a tough crossbreed of Catha edulis spiked with tobacco and caffeine and stronger stuff, and fibreglass threads or similar to abrade the gums and get it into the blood. Its name is a trilingual pun: it’s khat where it’s grown, and the animal called “cat” in En- glish is feld in our own language. I sniffed it and it was pretty low-grade stuff. I walked over to where the four teenagers shivered in their puffy jackets.

“’Sup, policeman?” said one boy in a Bes-accented approximation of hip-hop English. He looked up and met my eye, but he was pale. Neither he nor any of his companions looked well. From where they sat they could not have seen the dead woman, but they did not even look in her direction.

They must have known we’d find the feld, and that we’d know it was theirs. They could have said nothing, just run.

“I’m Inspector Borlú,” I said. “Extreme Crime Squad.”

I did not say I’m Tyador. A difficult age to question, this—too old for first names, euphemisms and toys, not yet old enough to be straightforward opponents in interviews, when at least the rules were clear. “What’s your name?” The boy hesitated, considered using whatever slang handle he’d granted himself, did not.

“Vilyem Barichi.”

“You found her?” He nodded, and his friends nodded after him. “Tell me.”

“We come here because, ’cause, and…” Vilyem waited, but I said nothing about his drugs. He looked down. “And we seen something under that mattress and we pulled it off.”

“There was some…” His friends looked up as Vilyem hesitated, obviously superstitious.

“Wolves?” I said. They glanced at each other.

“Yeah man, some scabby little pack was nosing around there and…”

“So we thought it…”

“How long after you got here?” I said.

Vilyem shrugged. “Don’t know. Couple hours?”

“Anyone else around?”

“Saw some guys over there a while back.”

“Dealers?” A shrug.

“And there was a van came up on the grass and come over here and went off again after a bit. We ?didn’t speak to no one.”

“When was the van?”

“Don’t know.”

“It was still dark.” That was one of the girls.

“Okay. Vilyem, you guys, we’re going to get you some breakfast, something to drink, if you want.” I motioned to their guards. “Have we spoken to the parents?” I asked.

“On their way, boss; except hers”—pointing to one of the girls—“we can’t reach.”

“So keep trying. Get them to the centre now.”

The four teens looked at each other. “This is bullshit, man,” the boy who was not Vilyem said, uncertainly. He knew that according to some politics he should oppose my instruction, but he wanted to go with my subordinate. Black tea and bread and paperwork, the boredom and striplights, all so much not like the peeling back of that wet heavy, cumbersome mattress, in the yard, in the dark.

Stepen Shukman and his assistant Hamd Hamzinic had arrived. I looked at my watch. Shukman ignored me. When he bent to the body he wheezed. He certified death. He made observations that Hamzinic wrote down.

“Time?” I said.

“Twelve hours-ish,” Shukman said. He pressed down on one of the woman’s limbs. She rocked. In rigor, and unstable on the ground as she was, she probably assumed the position of her death lying on other contours. “She ?wasn’t killed here.” I had heard it said many times he was good at his job but had seen no evidence that he was anything but competent.

“Done?” he said to one of the scene techs. She took two more shots from different angles and nodded. Shukman rolled the woman over with Hamzinic’s help. She seemed to fight him with her cramped motionlessness. Turned, she was absurd, like someone playing at dead insect, her limbs crooked, rocking on her spine.

She looked up at us from below a fluttering fringe. Her face was set in a startled strain: she was endlessly surprised by herself. She was young. She was heavily made up, and it was smeared across a badly battered face. It was impossible to say what she looked like, what face those who knew her would see if they heard her name. We might know better later, when she relaxed into her death. Blood marked her front, dark as dirt. Flash flash of cameras.

“Well, hello cause of death,” Shukman said to the wounds in her chest.

On her left cheek, curving under the jaw, a long red split. She had been cut half the length of her face.

The wound was smooth for several centimetres, tracking precisely along her flesh like the sweep of a paintbrush. Where it went below her jaw, under the overhang of her mouth, it jagged ugly and ended or began with a deep torn hole in the soft tissue behind her bone. She looked unseeingly at me.

“Take some without the flash, too,” I said.


Revue de presse

“Daring and disturbing . . . Miéville illuminates fundamental and unsettling questions about culture, governance and the shadowy differences that keep us apart.”—Walter Mosley, author of Devil in a Blue Dress

"Lots of books dabble in several genres but few manage to weld them together as seamlessly and as originally as The City and The City. In a tale set in a series of cities vertiginously layered in the same space, Miéville offers the detective novel re-envisioned through the prism of the fantastic. The result is a stunning piece of artistry that has both all the satisfactions of a good mystery and all the delight and wonder of the best fantasy.”—Brian Evenson, author of Last Days

“If Philip K. Dick and Raymond Chandler's love child were raised by Franz Kafka, the writing that emerged might resemble China Mieville's new novel, The City & the City." —Los Angeles Times

“China Mieville has made his name via award-winning, genre-bending titles such as King Rat, Perdido Street Station, The Scar and Iron Council. Now, in The City & the City, he sets out to bend yet another genre, that of the police procedural, and he succeeds brilliantly…. [An] extraordinary, wholly engaging read.” — St. Petersburg Times

“An eye-opening genre-buster. The names of Kafka and Orwell tend to be invoked too easily for anything a bit out of the ordinary, but in this case they are worthy comparisons.” — The Times, London

“Evoking such writers as Franz Kafka and Mikhail Bulgakov, Mr. Miéville asks readers to make conceptual leaps and not to simply take flights of fancy.”—Wall Street Journal

“An outstanding take on police procedurals…. Through this exaggerated metaphor of segregation, Miéville skillfully examines the illusions people embrace to preserve their preferred social realities.” — Publishers Weekly, starred review

“An excellent police procedural and a fascinating urban fantasy, this is essential reading for all mystery and fantasy fans.”—Booklist, starred review

“This spectacularly, intricately paranoid yarn is worth the effort.” — Kirkus, starred review

Détails sur le produit

  • Format : Format Kindle
  • Taille du fichier : 682 KB
  • Nombre de pages de l'édition imprimée : 388 pages
  • Editeur : Tor; Édition : Reprints (1 janvier 2010)
  • Vendu par : Amazon Media EU S.à r.l.
  • Langue : Anglais
  • ASIN: B003E2UQLO
  • Synthèse vocale : Activée
  • X-Ray :
  • Word Wise: Activé
  • Composition améliorée: Non activé
  • Moyenne des commentaires client : 4.0 étoiles sur 5  Voir tous les commentaires (4 commentaires client)
  • Classement des meilleures ventes d'Amazon: n°48.028 dans la Boutique Kindle (Voir le Top 100 dans la Boutique Kindle)
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13 internautes sur 13 ont trouvé ce commentaire utile 
5.0 étoiles sur 5 Un bijou littéraire 7 juillet 2010
Par Solamenn
Si vous ne connaissez pas China Miéville, commencez par The city & the city. Si vous connaissez, ce roman est à ne pas rater.

Le roman tient du thriller : le cadavre d'une femme est retrouvé, un inspecteur enquête sur sa mort. Mais l'enquête est entravée par la nature même de la ville dans laquelle il vit, une ville qui est double, une ville où deux populations se côtoient et s'ignorent. (Avis à ceux qui ont lu Perdido Street Station, The Scar ou Iron Council : ce roman ne se déroule pas à New Crobuzon et n'a aucun rapport avec le monde de cette trilogie. )
Est-ce de la science-fiction, de la fantasy ou un vrai thriller de machinations politiques ? Comme d'habitude avec China Miéville, la réponse n'est pas simple et la complexité fait toute la grandeur de ce roman.

Attendez-vous à être assez destabilisé au début par la présentation de la ville double. Mais l'intrigue tient en haleine, l'écriture est un régal et China Miéville signe un roman intéressant, intriguant, fascinant.
Si vous ne savez pas pourquoi il est l'un des plus grands auteurs britanniques contemporains, essayez The city & the city et vous comprendrez !

Miéville s'est complètement renouvelé par rapport à ses premiers romans et a réussi son pari. Mais si vous avez aimé ce qu'il a écrit avant, il y a fort à parier pour que vous adoriez The city & the city.
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4 internautes sur 4 ont trouvé ce commentaire utile 
5.0 étoiles sur 5 Un fascinant numéro d'équilibriste 28 janvier 2011
Par Jean-loup Sabatier TOP 500 COMMENTATEURS
Un roman situé dans une cité moderne mais imaginaire et quelque peu fantastique par les coutumes de ses habitants. Elle est en fait composée de deux cités superposées en une seule, qui cohabitent en s'ignorant.

Comme d'habitude chez Miéville, c'est la cité qui est le héros principal du roman (ça vous rappellera probablement New Crobuzon, une certaine autre cité fantastique dans l'excellente et monumentale trilogie "Perdido Street Station"/"The Scar"/"Iron Council" du même auteur).

Tout commence comme un polar classique: le cadavre d'une fille morte qui pourrait avoir été une prostituée (ou pas) a été retrouvé sur un tas d'ordures en pleine rue. L'enquête montre qu'elle a été transportée dans un van qui pourrait avoir été volé (ou pas). Une fois le van retrouvé, il est plein d'ordures sans aucune raison plausible pour ça. L'inspecteur de l'ECS (Extreme Crime Squad) mène l'enquête, il suit l'autopsie, cherche les preuves, interroge les témoins et les suspects... Bref, c'est un polar classique, mais placé dans une cité bizarre.

L'enquête mènera notre inspecteur dans les milieux extrémistes politiques et chez tous les révolutionnaires de la ville, avant de le conduire à une conspiration cachée et à des secrets particulièrement explosifs et cachés depuis longtemps, qui seront dévoilés avec d'énormes retentissements.
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1 internautes sur 1 ont trouvé ce commentaire utile 
5.0 étoiles sur 5 The City and the City 22 août 2013
Par CV
Format:Broché|Achat vérifié
Un excellent livre, très bien écrit, intelligemment mené même si la fin est prévisible. L'intérêt est ailleurs que dans la découverte du coupable, dans la réflexion sur ce que l'on voit et on ne voit pas, dans ce que l'on s'autorise à voir ou pas, dans la coexistence des mondes qui s'ignorent.
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5 internautes sur 7 ont trouvé ce commentaire utile 
1.0 étoiles sur 5 tedious 16 janvier 2011
Par Andrei
Really tedious; I fell asleep several times before putting the book aside; could not finish it; maybe Mr Mieville is orginal as suggested other reviews, but he certainly did not succeed in writing something entertaining
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Amazon.com: 3.8 étoiles sur 5  328 commentaires
238 internautes sur 252 ont trouvé ce commentaire utile 
5.0 étoiles sur 5 Incredibly Realized Setting 28 avril 2009
Par J. W. Kennedy - Publié sur Amazon.com
Format:Relié|Commentaire client Vine pour produit gratuit (De quoi s'agit-il?)
I have awarded five stars to lesser books in the past, but now the bar has been raised; I know what a five-star novel is really like after reading _The City & The City_.

It's a detective novel written in the first-person; the narrator is Inspector Tyador Borlu of the Beszel Extreme Crime Squad. The writing style is relatively spare, reminescent of Dashiell Hammett. The narrator constrains himself strictly to observable phenomena and tells us nothing of characters' inner thoughts or emotional states, which makes the action seem very immediate and the narration very stark. Police procedures are presented believably but without too much detail. The case itself is not terribly elaborate. It starts with a murder, but about two-thirds of the way through I felt that the murder was no longer the focus. Inspector Borlu's investigation leads to fringe political groups, an archaeological site, a foreign country, and to somewhere else entirely. The setting of the novel is what makes the story work. There wouldn't be a story if it wasn't set in Beszel and Ul Qoma. It's a totally original concept, like nothing I have ever read before.

Beszel is a gloomy, decaying city which seems to be located somewhere in Eastern Europe. Ul Qoma is a bright, bustling city that seems either Arabic or Turkish. The relationship between the two cities is the central theme of the book. I can't tell you much about it without spoiling the beautiful unfolding of the novel. Of course Inspector Borlu takes everything for granted because he lives there; it's all familiar to him .. so instead of explaining things as one would to a foreign visitor, he lets details emerge through descriptions of sights and events, and the reader slowly pieces together details of the setting. One's understanding of the situation gets deeper as the novel progresses, and even though it is completely absurd, I found myself easily suspending my disbelief and becoming totally absorbed in the story. This impossible setting is PERFECTLY executed so as to seem plausible. Beszel and Ul Qoma deserve to be included in the Atlas of Fictional Places, they are so well constructed. Even the languages (as reflected in names of people and places and a few idiomatic sayings) consistently support the mood and "flavor" of the two cities.

The two cities may be a clever metaphor for the Situation of Man, but the book's highbrow literary qualities will not get in the way of its pure entertainment value. The best fiction I have read so far this year.
129 internautes sur 147 ont trouvé ce commentaire utile 
3.0 étoiles sur 5 A change of pace, but still peculiar 29 mai 2009
Par J. Roberts - Publié sur Amazon.com
Format:Relié|Commentaire client Vine pour produit gratuit (De quoi s'agit-il?)
Much ado has been made of the change in tone and character in this most recent book, and it's true that the language is a dramatic departure from his typical baroque style, but it still bears something in common with pretty much everything Mieville writes: it requires quite a lot from the reader.

There are books that you can read at a surface level, just taking in the words one at a time as they lay out character, setting and plot much like a computer loading an image. Mieville's books - and to a lesser extent his stories - tend to be more like jigsaw puzzles without the box. In his more fantastic work, it's less jarring than here because even at his most outre, he tends to tread familiar paths as far as story and plot, so you can keep up.

This, on the other hand, is a bit of noir fiction/magical realism, and it's a bit jarring to read about a hundred pages of the book before you're really given a handle as to exactly what's going on.

That aside, the overall plot of the book - not to mention the characters and, of course, the cities themselves - makes for a good read, but be prepared to devote a considerable amount of your brain's memory cache to this book until you're finished.
58 internautes sur 69 ont trouvé ce commentaire utile 
3.0 étoiles sur 5 Something different 11 mai 2009
Par Brian A. Schar - Publié sur Amazon.com
Format:Relié|Commentaire client Vine pour produit gratuit (De quoi s'agit-il?)
I enjoyed this book, and found it a worthwhile read, but did not love it as unequivocally as the reviewers below.

On the plus side, Mieville's style is distinctive, literary and interesting. "The City and the City" isn't something you've read a dozen times before; it's original, and for that reason alone it's worth reading. The SF and mystery genres seem to breed dozens of cut-rate "me too" novels for every truly interesting work, so just reading something new and different is worth a couple of stars alone. The characters are well-drawn and interesting, as are the cities of Beszel and Ul Qoma.

On the minus side, every page of this book talks about the intersection between the cities in some way - the alter, the crosshatching and so on. After a while, we get it; the point doesn't have to be belabored. Speaking of the point, we also get the point about subcultures and minorities and what we see in daily life versus what we don't, which is all well and good. But either I missed the point of the novel as a whole or just didn't get it, because at the end my first reaction was, "so what?" I understand that Tyodor has changed as a result of his experience, but I would expect that from a character written by a good writer; again, my though was "so what?" The ending left me cold, as if the book just stopped. I got the impression that the identity of the killer just wasn't that important; that it just got picked out of a hat, and tossed in right at the end to satisfy those who would be disappointed if a murder mystery never identified the killer.

Having said that, "The City and the City" is at least worth borrowing from the library. The pros outweigh the cons, and if you don't love it, you will likely at least enjoy it.
21 internautes sur 23 ont trouvé ce commentaire utile 
4.0 étoiles sur 5 A Different Beach Read! Recommended for mystery fans, sci-fi fans, alternative history fans even 20 avril 2010
Par J. Zeh - Publié sur Amazon.com
I read this book last year in hardback, and have recently read it a second time. It really was my beach read last year, the first book I read laying by on the beach on vacation. It was different, and more of a mystery story than I expected. The premise is unique - two cities existing in the same physical space that overlaps somehow. And that exist in our modern world. You are left wondering about how the separation happened, how it is maintained, and what is the complete story behind it. THAT is what demands a sequel, that I hope China will write one day. I am giving the story four stars instead of five because I really wanted more back story of the city, and the story could have been longer. However, it was the perfect size for a beach read, it does wrap up the mystery, and there are lots of directions the author can take if he wants to do another book with the same detective character.

Reading this book, you are plunged into this very strange concept of the two cites occuping same space right away. As the story develops, you learn how people living there deal with their unusual reality. The reader follows the main character, a police detective, as he investigates a murder. As he finds out more about the murder, the clues may lead to a bigger mystery and conspiracy. Finding out all the pieces of the puzzle as the detective does is part of the fun.

I adore China Mieville, his prose, his writing style and his unique concepts. I love most everything he has written. His books set in Bas-Lag are very intricate and complex and long. This book is NOT set in Bas-Lag, it is shorter than those novels, and a satisfying read by itself. Highly recommended.

One more recommendation: If you ever have the chance to hear the author in person, go see him. He is very gracious in person. He has a wonderful voice and I enjoyed hearing him read from one of his works when I had the chance to see him at a signing event.
8 internautes sur 8 ont trouvé ce commentaire utile 
3.0 étoiles sur 5 Red Herrings and Concrete 29 juin 2009
Par Patrick Shepherd - Publié sur Amazon.com
Format:Relié|Commentaire client Vine pour produit gratuit (De quoi s'agit-il?)
Those familiar with China's other works will notice almost immediately a great difference in this book, namely its prose style. Here, it is almost stark, simple, a just-the-facts-ma'am presentation, as opposed to his previous baroque, colorful, and densely descriptive style. But this style fits this story, as what we have here is a police procedural, albeit in an urban fantasy setting.

This does not mean, however, that a very complete picture of the two cities of this book is not presented. Just as in his other books, the cities themselves are characters, and a major portion of the plot revolves around just how these cities are constructed, their history, their local governments, and the influence these have on their inhabitants. The plot itself is suitably complicated with an appropriate number of red herrings scattered around to confuse our detective.

However, I found the basic premise of this book sharply on the side of unbelievability. China is at some pains to make his characters normal, everyday people, but then he asks them to perform certain tasks on a constant daily basis that cannot be done by normal people, and even schizophrenics would have a very difficult time. It's impossible to be more detailed than this without giving away a major spoiler. Now, admittedly, this is a fantasy, but for me anyway, even in a fantasy, people have to remain people, and not display super-human powers unless this is carefully set up by the author, but here the justifications China gives to explain how people perform these feats I found to be grossly inadequate. This basic problem nagged at me throughout my reading of this work, and dimmed my enjoyment of it quite a bit, as otherwise this is a very good work, on par with his other works, and with some echoes of Chabon's The Yiddish Policeman's Union's excellence and flavor.

China clearly shows with this work that he is not afraid of tackling new genres and styles, and does so quite well, but here I think his great imagination went a little too overboard.

Reviewed by Patrick Shepherd (hyperpat)
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