Waylander : donnez votre avis !

Spoiler:

Nikhilesh Sinha a écrit:Having grown tired of wading through large tomes of mangled ineptitude authored by writers such as Robert Jordan and Steven Erikson, it's a relief to read Gemmel. The plot is fairly straightforward, the characters are cardboard cut outs, but the style is engaging and there's enough happening to keep you reading.

As the size of the book (350 odd pages in fairly large type) should indicate, it's not really an immersive experience, with few details of the history and geography of the world. Aside from some allusions to the Source and the Lord of Chaos, there's not much you learn about the belief systems, or even why the two sides are fighting. There are priests and sorcerers who wield some power and can cast spells, but there's no description of how the magic works. And yet the novel works and the world seems real, if not particularly well-defined.

I can see why Waylander has become a fantasy classic. It's uncomplicated heroic fantasy, and Gemmel's skill is in making most of it believable and actually quite predictable. I respect the author's restraint. So often fantasy writers attempt grandiloquence, or complex plot and character construction when they lack the skill. One feels with Waylander that it's a good yarn, told by a skilled storyteller. That in itself is rare to find.

David Gemmell a écrit:The man who was the basis for Karnak in the Waylander novels once described it as a ‘poisonous and malicious attack on his integrity. ‘ Sadly he was also my boss. Curiously I was made redundant soon after.

David Gemmell a écrit:In 1985 I was appointed editor of the Folkestone Herald newspaper on the south coast of England. It was a poisoned chalice. Sales were slumping alarmingly, the staff were demoralised, and a rival newspaper seemed set to bury us.
The rival had been launched by a group called the Kent Messenger, better known locally as the KM group.
I was then about to start on the third Drenai novel, but I had no plot.
It was also hard to think of one while battling to save a newspaper from extinction.
One night, as I sat in my office, writing the fourth draft of a not-very-good opening, I leaned back and thought: "Damn it Dave, the newspaper war is more interesting than this!"
That's when it hit me. If I wrote the newspaper war as fantasy it would be fun, and it would also help lift morale.
The enemy would be Kaem, the heroes based on the people who worked for me. My deputy, Shane Jarvis, became Sarvaj, the chief sub-editor Jonathan Poore was jonat. Fired with enthusiasm, I plotted out a basic story line, gradually increasing the list of characters until I included just about everyone - all the way up to the chairman.
He was a colossal and charismatic figure named Robert Breare. Back in 1976 he had been captain of the Cambridge boat race crew, and he was now an entrepreneur. He had a management style which was colourful and the stuff of legends.
Once I saw him walk out into the compositing room and get into an argument with one of the workers. Suddenly Robert offered to settle the argument by arm wrestling. He dropped to the floor and took up his position. The surprised worker grinned and took him on. All the other workers stood around cheering and shouting. Robert lost.
"Got to be best of three!" he shouted, and the match continued.
Robert lost - and yet gained enormously. People loved working for him. He was a one-off. The kind of man, who, if he'd been a general, could have led his troops into the jaws of Hell. They'd have followed gladly.
Robert became Karnak the One-Eyed, the legendary general who would try to hold Dros Purdol against the might of the Vagrians.
And yet the story did not gel. I couldn't start the novel. Something was missing.
I was giving a talk to a group of writers around then, and I was explaining how the underlying pace of a story had to be carefully established. It is important because the correct pacing allows a writer to inject tension or atmosphere by either an increase or a decrease in the underlying pace. Set the initial pace too fast, and the story will run at breakneck speed, with no opportunity to allow the reader to pause for breath. It also then becomes harder to lift the action.
"Give us an example of setting too fast a pace," said one of the writers.
I had to think quickly and I said: " They had begun to torture the priest when the stranger stepped from the shadows of the trees.". In the silence that followed I pointed out that such an opening would set a blistering pace and that it would be night impossible to slow the story down thereafter.
As I drove home I found myself thinking about the sentence. Why were they torturing the priest? Who was the stranger?
There was only one way to find out.
I started the book with that sentence - and discovered Waylander the Slayer.
The novel was published in 1986 and, like the other Drenai stories, has never been out of print since.
Happily, the real life story also ended well. The Folkestone Herald saw off the KM interlopers. Sales rose and staff morale soared. It was, in so many ways, a happy time.
I have no idea where Robert Breare is now.
But I'll bet he hasn't forgotten how to arm-wrestle.

Oncle Kiin a écrit:Gemmell a une réputation assez légitime d’auteur bourrin. Il a créé des dizaines de personnages guerriers, des gars sévères, bourrés de discipline martiale, des hommes capables de « faire ce qu’il faut »... mais bizarrement, j’ai toujours l’impression qu’il met davantage de lui-même dans ses persos « pacifistes », comme par procuration, comme s’il se lamentait sur cet idéal de douceur, et qu’il en regrettait l’impossibilité à la manière dont on se languit d’un paradis perdu.

Oncle Kiin a écrit:un côté « soixante-huitard reaganien », comme une sorte de hippie réac qui serait écartelé entre d’un côté son penchant – sans doute générationnel – pour les philosophies orientales new-age, et de l’autre son apologie permanente, chevillée au corps, de la virtus romaine...