By Robert Charles Wilson
Apostat. Fugitif. Conquérant.
Il s'appelle Julian Comstock ; il est le neveu du président des Etats-Unis.
Son père, le général Bryce Comstock, a été pendu pour trahison (on murmure qu'il était blameless de ce crime).
Julian est né dans une Amérique à jamais privée de pétrole, une Amérique étendue à soixante états, tenue de major de maître par l'église du Dominion. Un can pay en ruine, exsangue, en guerre au Labrador contre les forces mitteleuropéennes, pour les dernières ressources naturelles.
On le connaît désormais sous le nom de Julian l'agnostique ou (comme son oncle) de Julian le Conquérant.
Ceci est l'histoire de ce qu'il a cru bon et juste, l'histoire de ses victoires et défaites, militaires et politiques.
Fresque post-apocalyptique, western du XXIIe siècle, fulgurant hommage à Mark Twain, Julian est le plus atypique des romans de Robert Charles Wilson. Une réussite majeure et une critique sans concession des politiques environnementales actuelles.
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Example text
I thought of calling them and then decided against it Page 55 It was not just that I did not want them to have a Watch like mine. though that was part of it There was also the memory of my struggle with Henry over my father's Watch, when Jack had helped me to get it from him. And this, I think, was sparked by something less definite, a feeling of discontent. My dislike for Henry had been thrust into the background by the difficulties and dangers which we encountered together and shared. When Beanpole joined us.
Beanpole shook his head. " Finding the best place for getting on the Shmand-Fair proved easier than I had expected. The gradient was scarcely noticeable, but the crest of the rise was marked by a wooden post with arms on either side pointing down. There were bushes nearby, which provided cover. We had a wait of half an hour before the next one came in sight, but that was going the wrong way. ) Eventually the right one appeared; we saw the horses drop from gallop to canter, and at last to a straining, heaving walk.
From the town, into land? " He blew out the lamp and set it down inside the door. " The moonlight was still bright on the waterfront and the gently bobbing masts of the boats in the harbor, but in places the stars were hidden by cloud, and a breeze was getting up from tile sea. He started along the way Captain Curtis had said, but before long led us into an alley. We went up steps, and the alley twisted and turned. It was so narrow that moonlight did not penetrate; there was barely enough light to see our way.
