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The Third Gate [Anglais] [Poche]

Lincoln Child
4.5 étoiles sur 5  Voir tous les commentaires (2 commentaires client)
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Description de l'ouvrage

26 février 2013

An archaeological expedition digging where it shouldn’t. . .
A crown so powerful it is rumored to be cursed. . .
And the one man who can explain it all. . .
Deep in a nearly impassable swamp south of the Egyptian border, an archaeological team is searching for the burial chamber of King Narmer, the fabled pharaoh. Narmer's crown might be buried with him: the elusive "double" crown of the two Egypts. Amid the nightmarish, disorienting tangle of mud and dead vegetation, strange things begin to happen. Could an ancient curse be responsible? Jeremy Logan, history professor and master interpreter of bizarre and inexplicable enigmas, is brought onto the project to investigate. What he finds raises fresh questions . . . and immediate alarm.

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Descriptions du produit



Three Years Later

Growing up in Westport, currently teaching at Yale, Jeremy Logan thought himself familiar with his home state of Connecticut. But the stretch through which he now drove was a revelation. Heading east from Groton—­following the e-­mailed directions—­he’d turned onto US 1 and then, just past Stonington, onto US 1 Alternate. Hugging the gray Atlantic coastline, he’d passed Wequetequock, rolled over a bridge that looked as old as New England itself, then turned sharply right onto a well-­paved but unmarked road. Quite abruptly, the minimalls and tourist motels fell away behind. He passed a sleepy cove in which lobster boats bobbed at anchor, and then entered an equally sleepy hamlet. And yet it was a real village, a working village, with a general store and a tackle shop and an Episcopal church with a steeple three sizes too large, and gray-­shingled houses with trim picket fences painted white. There were no hulking SUVs, no out-­of-­state plates; and the scattering of people sitting on benches or leaning out of front windows waved to him as he passed. The April sunlight was strong, and the sea air had a clean, fresh bite to it. A signboard hanging from the doorframe of the post office informed him he was in Pevensey Point, population 182. Something about the place reminded him irresistibly of Herman Melville.

“Karen,” he said, “if you’d seen this place, you’d never have made us buy that summer cottage in Hyannis.”

Although his wife had died of cancer years ago, Logan still allowed himself to converse with her now and then. Of course it was usually—­though not always—­more monologue than conversation. At first, he’d been sure to do it only when he was certain not to be overheard. But then—­as what had started as a kind of intellectual hobby for him turned increasingly into a profession—­he no longer bothered to be so discreet. These days, judging by what he did for a living, people expected him to be a little strange.

Two miles beyond the town, precisely as the directions indicated, a narrow lane led off to the right. Taking it, Logan found himself in a sandy forest of thin scrub pine that soon gave way to tawny dunes. The dunes ended at a metal bridge leading to a low, broad island jutting out into Fishers Island Sound. Even from this distance, Logan could see there were at least a dozen structures on the island, all built of the same reddish-­brown stone. At the center were three large five-­story buildings that resembled dormitories, arranged in parallel, like dominos. At the far end of the island, partly concealed by the various structures, was an empty airstrip. And beyond everything lay the ocean and the dark green line of Rhode Island.

Logan drove the final mile, stopping at a gatehouse before the bridge. He showed the printed e-­mail to the guard inside, who smiled and waved him through. A single sign beside the gatehouse, expensive looking but unobtrusive, read simply cts.

He crossed the bridge, passed an outlying structure, and pulled into a parking lot. It was surprisingly large: there were at least a hundred cars and space for as many more. Nosing into one of the spots, he killed the engine. But instead of exiting, he paused to read the e-­mail once again.


I’m pleased—­and relieved—­to hear of your acceptance. I also appreciate your being flexible, since as I mentioned earlier there’s no way yet to know how long your investigation will take. In any case you’ll receive a minimum of two weeks’ compensation, at the rate you specified. I’m sorry I can’t give you more details at this point, but you’re probably used to that. And I have to tell you I can’t wait to see you again after all this time.

Directions to the Center are below. I’ll be waiting for you on the morning of the 18th. Any time between ten and noon will be fine. One other thing: once you’re on board with the project, you might find it hard to get calls out with any degree of certainty, so please be sure you’ve cleared your decks before you arrive. Looking forward to the 18th!


E. R.

Logan glanced at his watch: eleven thirty. He turned the note over once in his hands. You might find it hard to get calls out with any degree of certainty. Why was that? Perhaps cell phone towers had never made it beyond picturesque Pevensey Point? Nevertheless, what the e-­mail said was true: he was “used to that.” He pulled a duffel bag from the passenger seat, slipped the note into it, and got out of the car.

Located in one of the central dormitory-­like buildings, Reception was an understated space that reminded Logan of a hospital or clinic: a half-­dozen empty chairs, tables with magazines and journals, a sprinkling of anonymous-­looking oil paintings on beige walls, and a single desk occupied by a woman in her mid-­thirties. The letters CTS were set into the wall behind her, once again with no indication of what they might stand for.

Logan gave his name to the woman, who in response looked at him with a mixture of curiosity and uneasiness. He took a seat in one of the vacant chairs, expecting a protracted wait. But no sooner had he picked up a recent issue of Harvard Medical Review than a door across from the receptionist opened and Ethan Rush emerged.

“Jeremy,” Rush said, smiling broadly and extending his hand. “Thank you so much for coming.”

“Ethan,” Logan replied, shaking the proffered hand. “Nice to see you again.”

He hadn’t seen Rush since their days at Johns Hopkins twenty years before, when he’d been doing graduate studies and Rush had been attending the medical school. But the man who stood before him retained a remarkable youthfulness. Only a fine tracery of lines at the corners of his eyes bore testament to the passage of years. And yet in the simple act of shaking the man’s hand, Logan had received two very clear impressions from Rush: a shattering, life-­changing event and an unswerving, almost obsessive, devotion to a cause.

Dr. Rush glanced around the reception area. “You brought your luggage?”

“It’s in my trunk.”

“Give me the keys, I’ll see that somebody retrieves it for you.”

“It’s a Lotus Elan S four.”

Rush whistled. “The roadster? What year?”

“Nineteen sixty-­eight.”

“Very nice. I’ll make sure they treat it with kid gloves.”

Logan dug into his pocket and handed the keys to Rush, who in turn gave them to the receptionist with some whispered instructions. Then he turned and motioned Logan to follow him through the open doorway.

Taking an elevator to the top floor, Rush led the way down a long hallway that smelled faintly of cleaning fluid and chemicals. The resemblance to a hospital grew stronger—­and yet it seemed to be a hospital without patients; the few people they passed were dressed in street clothes, ambulatory, and obviously healthy. Logan peered curiously into the open doorways as they walked by. He saw conference rooms, a large, empty lecture hall with seats for at least a hundred, laboratories bristling with equipment, what appeared to be a reference library full of paperbound journals and dedicated terminals. More strangely, he noticed several apparently identical rooms, each containing a single, narrow bed with literally dozens—­if not hundreds—­of wires leading to nearby monitoring instruments. Other doors were closed, their small windows covered by privacy curtains. A group of men and women in white lab coats passed them in the hallway. They glanced at Logan, nodded to Rush.

Stopping before a door marked director, Rush opened it and beckoned Logan through an anteroom housing two secretaries and a profusion of bookcases into a private office beyond. It was tastefully decorated, as minimalist as the outer office was crowded. Three of the walls held spare postmodernist paintings in cool blues and grays; the fourth wall appeared to be entirely of glass, covered at the moment by blinds.

In the center of the room was a teakwood table, polished to a brilliant gleam and flanked by two leather chairs. Rush took one and ushered Logan toward the other.

“Can I offer you anything?” the director asked. “Coffee, tea, soda?”

Logan shook his head.

Rush crossed one leg over the other. “Jeremy, I have to be frank. I wasn’t sure you’d be willing to take on this assignment, given how busy you are . . . and how closemouthed I was concerning the particulars.”

“You weren’t sure—­even given the fee I charged?”

Rush smiled. “It’s true—­your fee is certainly healthy. But then your, ah, work has become somewhat high profile recently.” He hesitated. “What is it you call your profession again?”

“I’m an enigmalogist.”

“Right. An enigmalogist.” Rush glanced curiously at Logan. “And it’s true you were able to document the existence of the Loch Ness monster?”

“You’d have to take that up with my client for that particular assignment, the University of Edinburgh.”

“Serves me right for asking.” Rush paused. “Speaking of universities, you are a professor, aren’t you?”

“Medieval history. At Yale.”

“And what do they think of your other profession at Yale?”

“High visibility is never a problem. It helps guarantee a large admissions pool.” Logan glanced around the office. He’d often found that new clients preferred to talk about his past accomplishments. It postponed di...

Revue de presse

“Lincoln Child’s novels are thrilling and tantalizing.” 
 —Vince Flynn

"By mixing fact and fiction as well as science and the occult, Lincoln Child once again has created an offbeat thriller that is both exciting and thoughtprovoking."
--The Free Lance-Star

"Bestseller Child (Terminal Freeze) more than succeeds in making a mummy's curse terrifying in this superb supernatural thriller...Child evokes fear through understatement...Readers will hope to see more of [lead character] Logan in a sequel."
--Publishers Weekly (starred review)

"Ample gadgetry, New Age soul-shifting, and pyrotechnics sufficient to employ a stable of stuntmen when brought to film: Child’s newest is the sort of thing to delight all those who got wrapped up in The Mummy. Think, a Dan Brown-ian adventure amongst Pharaohs ready with a pocket full of curses."

"Its characters are well drawn, and the mystery is nicely handled, keeping readers guessing as to whether something supernatural is going on here. Of the author’s solo novels, this could be the best so far."

Détails sur le produit

  • Poche: 416 pages
  • Editeur : Anchor; Édition : Reprint (26 février 2013)
  • Langue : Anglais
  • ISBN-10: 0307473740
  • ISBN-13: 978-0307473745
  • Dimensions du produit: 18,8 x 10,9 x 2,8 cm
  • Moyenne des commentaires client : 4.5 étoiles sur 5  Voir tous les commentaires (2 commentaires client)
  • Classement des meilleures ventes d'Amazon: 41.767 en Livres anglais et étrangers (Voir les 100 premiers en Livres anglais et étrangers)
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1 internautes sur 1 ont trouvé ce commentaire utile 
5.0 étoiles sur 5 A page turner ! 4 octobre 2013
From the first page to the last one, you are englued - not unlike the main character- in the thrilling quest of... I wont tell you more. Lincoln Child, like his friend Douglas Preston, knows the trade of making a chef d'oeuvre. Enjoy !
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4.0 étoiles sur 5 assez bien 11 avril 2014
Format:Poche|Achat vérifié
trouvé ce que j'ttendais, bon livre dans la moyenne pour lire dans la train ou sur la plage opu le soir avant de s'endormir.
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Commentaires client les plus utiles sur (beta) 3.7 étoiles sur 5  456 commentaires
90 internautes sur 101 ont trouvé ce commentaire utile 
3.0 étoiles sur 5 Indiana Jones Light 30 avril 2012
Par Jeanne Tassotto - Publié sur
Format:Relié|Commentaire client Vine pour produit gratuit (De quoi s'agit-il?)
This is a typical adventure thriller with paranormal overtones, in other words "Indiana Jones - Light". In place of Indiana Jones we have Jeremy Logan, a professor of history who specializes in enigmas (the bizarre, weird things that most of us refer to as paranormal). Logan has been asked to join an expedition lead by a reclusive millionaire, Porter Stone, who has a reputation for remarkable finds. This time Stone has gone in search of the tomb of the Pharaoh who united Upper and Lower Egypt 5000 years ago. The tomb site is not located along the banks of the Nile but instead in the Sudd, the vast swamp that lies to the south of Egypt. The expedition is large, filled with experts in all fields, including the leading authority in near death experiences and his wife who has her own unique abilities. The expedition headquarters is located in the midst of a nearly impenetrable swamp, cut off from almost all outside contact when, of course odd things begin to happen just as they nearly achieve their goal.

This is not a bad story, just a familiar one. We have met all of the characters before, the hero who has arcane knowledge, the mysterious millionaire on a quest, the doctor who has a deep, dark secret and a vulnerable woman. We have also been to the isolated scientific outpost before, seen the increasingly disturbing events that finally cannot be ignored any longer. It is all standard fare in books or movies or tv shows, sometimes done quite well and resulting in a riveting tale, and other times done so badly they become inadvertent comedies. This one is pretty much middle of the road - the premise is good, the characters are reasonably believable but it does have some flaws. The site of the isolated base is inaccessible except when it is not. Events are slowly built up to and then rushed through. Characters at times behave illogically, even to the point that other characters comment on it.

Overall this is not a bad novel, just not a very original one. It is not a particularly poorly written novel, just not a well written one. It is a quick read, complicated enough to keep the reader interested but not so enthralling that it cannot be put down. It is therefore, a great novel to take on a trip, put in a beach bag or curl up with on a rainy weekend.
57 internautes sur 70 ont trouvé ce commentaire utile 
5.0 étoiles sur 5 "Isn't there always a curse?" 19 mai 2012
Par Susan Tunis - Publié sur
Format:Relié|Commentaire client Vine pour produit gratuit (De quoi s'agit-il?)
Before I write another word, I just want to tell you that this book was fun. Is it capital "L" literature? No, but it's well-written, pulpy fun. Gosh, I wish there were more books like this. Now, on to the story...

After a brief, expository prologue, we meet Dr. Jeremy Logan, enigmalogist. When asked what it is he does, exactly, he answers, "More or less what it sounds like. I investigate phenomena that lie outside the normal bounds of human existence." Apparently, that encompasses proving the existence of the Loch Ness Monster and dealing with the occasional poltergeist. For his latest job, he's been hired by Dr. Ethan Rush of CTS--the Center for Transmortality Studies. After his wife's NDE--near death experience--the former anesthesiologist dedicated his life to the study of the phenomena. But Logan wasn't hired on behalf of CTS. There's another employer. Rush is a go-between in the employ of a very well-known man.

With few questions asked, Logan allows himself to be flown across the planet. They land in Egypt, where he has always wanted to work, but he is told, "I hate to disappoint you, Dr. Logan, but actually, it's nothing quite as straightforward as Egypt." It never is. Their eventual destination is the Sudd. This place is real, but I'd never heard of it before. Child quotes Alan Moorehead's non-fiction book The White Nile at length. It states, in part, "There is no more formidable swamp in the world than the Sudd." This place is an amazing setting for an archeological thriller--or any thriller for that matter--and that's even before they go diving in the mud!

I don't want to be much more specific about the plot of this novel. A big part of the entertainment is letting the revelations come in their own time. Child has crafted a novel where the more paranormal elements of the tale (which I have limited patience for) are well-balanced by real science in a variety of fields. There were moments, even, when things began to feel positively Crichtonesqe.

I mentioned above that this is not literary fiction, so don't expect in-depth character development, but Child has gathered an enjoyable and amusing cast of characters for this adventure. Do expect a compulsively page-turning pace. This is a novel designed to be read fast, preferably on a beach. As for Jeremy Logan, I can't say if we'll ever see him again, but Lincoln, could you please, please write up the story of how he proved the existence of Nessie?
68 internautes sur 85 ont trouvé ce commentaire utile 
5.0 étoiles sur 5 THE CURSE OF THE MUMMY! 27 avril 2012
Par Haze Blackmon - Publié sur
Format:Relié|Commentaire client Vine pour produit gratuit (De quoi s'agit-il?)
I read it in 3 sittings over a 24 hour period. Yeah, it's really good. Very absorbing, engrossing, and even terrifying. Actually, left me a bit breathless and really gripping the book tight with the last half waiting to find out what would happen next, which few novels really do for me. It may be Lincoln Child's best solo effort, yet. I didn't care for Terminal as much as this one. It was alright. Probably my favorite of his solo efforts before this one was Deep Storm(really good) followed by Utopia. With The Third Gate, Child moves into James Rollins/Clive Cussler territory. To an extent. This is a treasure hunt novel of sorts, but much more than that.

With out giving too much away, here is the the basic plot: Treaure hunter Porter Stone discovers the tomb of Narmer(just beyond the border of Egypt in the wasteland of the Sudd), the pharaoh king who united upper and lower Egypt 5000 years ago. Discovers that it has a nasty curse written on it. Not long after this discovery, the site and it's workers(archaeologists, scientists, etc.) begin experiencing strange, inexplicable events(equipment dies on them, supplies vanish, etc.). So, Stone enlists the help of a famous enigmologist(he's actually a Yale history professor, but is labeled an enigmologist b/c he deals in the supernatural), Jeremy Logan, to help understand if these are possibly supernatural events at work. What will Logan find? Will it raise more questions than answers? Is there a curse on the tomb of King Narmer? Or is it something else.... something more... Read it and find out.

The Third Gate is very well researched, as I expected. The character development is very good all around, but Jeremy Logan is the stand out character of this novel. He is very fascinating and I would love to see more of him in a sequel...oops, did I say sequel:)? I like it that Logan is introduced early on and not thrown in later on in the novel after the initial setup, which would probably mean the novel would have been a bit long-winded. Not the case here. This novel is lean and mean at barely 300 pages. I do wish the novel had taken place in more various exotic locales instead of mainly Africa, but that's being nitpicky.

This adventure thriller will leave you wanting more. I was not disappointed in the least(other than length, which is also a positive). The Third Gate should definitely be added to your summer reading list. Most novels, it seems, that explore this theme or something similar go through the motions while bringing nothing new to the table. No matter when you read it, just make sure you read this fast paced, twist-filled thriller as soon as possible. You will be wanting more Jerermy Logan and hopefully Child will answer our prayers. Grab it and be enthralled in it's grasp! I give it a 9.5 out of 10 or 4.75 stars out of 5.

I guess my only real complaint is that I wish the novel had been longer. I know I said the novel may have been long-winded had it been much longer, but not necessarily. Not in the hands of a wordsmith like Child. The only reason I give such a complaint as trivial as that is because I didn't want it to end. It seemed like it ended way to quick. Maybe a sequel, huh? There's that word again;) Have as much fun reading it as I did!
26 internautes sur 32 ont trouvé ce commentaire utile 
2.0 étoiles sur 5 Wait for the used paperback 26 juin 2012
Par Mike P. - Publié sur
Format:Format Kindle|Achat vérifié
As a huge fan of Child, I plunked down the 12.99 without a single thought. Regret abounds.

This may be one of the worst Child books ever written. As usual, the writing is sound, but the character development is below Child's usual standard and the plot, though it starts well, dives quickly into oblivion at the end. The story begins with the near death experience of a doctor's wife and meanders into an archealogical dig of an ancient Egyptian king. The setting, deep below the swamp of the Nile, is interesting and the potential is here. But none of the expected drama or tension really materializes, it becomse predictable and unsatisfying. The expected curses on the tomb fizzle nicely and the intrigue so carefully built up ends in disappointment.

I would have been more content paying 2.99 or 3.99 for this book and may have rated it a 3 that way, given the value statement. I'll know better next time.
19 internautes sur 23 ont trouvé ce commentaire utile 
2.0 étoiles sur 5 Are they using ghostwriters? 6 juillet 2012
Par R. Thompson - Publié sur
I use to be a big fan of Lincoln Child and Douglas Preston but I have to say their last few books both individually and together seem to be half-hearted efforts, as if they're just going through the motions. I honestly wonder if they use ghostwriters these days so they can rake in the money without having to do any work.

The Third Gate seems to be a mish-mash of cardboard characters and ideas which become more far-fetched as the book goes on. The hero seems completely unimportant until he's needed to show up from time to time and explain what's going on. I think this will be the last book of Child or Preston I'll buy. Sadly, they seem past their prime, or they need to hire better ghostwriters.
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