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Édition originale contenant une version adaptée pour public dyslexique

Llana de Gathol (titre original : Llana of Gathol) est un recueil de nouvelles d'Edgar Rice Burroughs faisant partie du Cycle de Mars et se déroulant sur Barsoom. Il s'agit du dixième livre de la série, il suit Les Hommes synthétiques de Mars.

Il s'agit du dernier livre publié du vivant de Edgar Rice Burroughs. Les histoires de Llana of Gathol ont un ton un peu plus humoristique que les entrées précédentes de la série Barsoom, et ce livre est considéré comme un exemple de Burroughs s'engageant dans l'auto-parodie à la fin de sa carrière. Les histoires de ce recueil tournent autour de la petite-fille de John Carter, Llana de Gathol, qui joue le rôle de "demoiselle en détresse" joué par Dejah Thoris et Thuvia dans les précédents épisodes de la série Barsoom.

Résumé : En quête de solitude, John Carter s'envole vers la ville déserte de Horz. Par l'une de ces coïncidences fréquentes dans les livres de Burroughs, il découvre sa propre petite-fille, Llana de Gathol, qui est retenue en captivité. Les tentatives ultérieures pour ramener Llana saine et sauve chez elle entraînent Carter, Llana et Pan Dan Chee, un jeune homme qu'ils recueillent en chemin, dans une série d'aventures. Ils rencontrent un ancien hypnotiseur fou qui a préservé les gens pendant près d'un million d'années grâce au pouvoir de l'hypnotisme. Ils trouvent une vallée occupée par des hommes noirs qui les emprisonnent. Ils se rendent sur la terre de Pankor où les soldats sont congelés et gardés en réserve jusqu'à ce qu'ils soient nécessaires pour une guerre. Enfin, ils atteignent la terre d'Invak où les habitants sont passés maîtres dans l'art de l'invisibilité.

Sujets

Science-Fiction

Space Opera

Toute la Science-Fiction

Univers ado

Classiques ados

Fiction

Classics

Littérature

Militaire

Science-fiction

Littérature d'enfance et de jeunesse

Planet opera

Classicisme

Science fiction

Military

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Publié par	presses-de-l-ecureuil
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9782925177548
Langue	Français
Poids de l'ouvrage	5 Mo

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Cycle de Mars, Tome 10 Llana of Gathol • 1948 Llana de Gathol Edgar Rice Burroughs
( édition originale –  original edition ) comprend une version pour public dyslexique. Hold a dyslexic version. © Les Presses de l'Écureuil Octobre 2021 (October, 2021)

Cet ouvrage est mis à disposition selon les termes de la Licence Creative Commons Attribution — Pas d’utilisation commerciale — Partage dans les mêmes conditions 4.0 International ( CC BY-NC-SA 4.0 ). Le site des éditions
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Table des matières [English Edition] Llana of Gathol, Edgar Rice Burroughs — Original Edition. Foreword Book One. The Ancient Dead Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3. Chapter 4. Chapter 5. Chapter 6. Chapter 7. Chapter 8. Chapter 9. Chapter 10. Chapter 11. Chapter 12. Chapter 13. Book Two. The Black Pirates of Barsoom Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3. Chapter 4. Chapter 5. Chapter 6. Chapter 7. Chapter 8. Chapter 9. Chapter 10. Chapter 11. Chapter 12. Chapter 13. Book Three. Escape of Mars Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3. Chapter 4. Chapter 5. Chapter 6. Chapter 7. Chapter 8. Chapter 9. Chapter 10. Chapter 11. Chapter 12. Chapter 13. Book Four. Invisible Men of Mars Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3. Chapter 4. Chapter 5. Chapter 6. Chapter 7. Chapter 8. Chapter 9. Chapter 10. Chapter 11. Chapter 12. Chapter 13. [Dyslexic version] Llana of Gathol, Edgar Rice Burroughs — Original Edition. Foreword Book One. The Ancient Dead Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3. Chapter 4. Chapter 5. Chapter 6. Chapter 7. Chapter 8. Chapter 9. Chapter 10. Chapter 11. Chapter 12. Chapter 13. Book Two. The Black Pirates of Barsoom Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3. Chapter 4. Chapter 5. Chapter 6. Chapter 7. Chapter 8. Chapter 9. Chapter 10. Chapter 11. Chapter 12. Chapter 13. Book Three. Escape of Mars Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3. Chapter 4. Chapter 5. Chapter 6. Chapter 7. Chapter 8. Chapter 9. Chapter 10. Chapter 11. Chapter 12. Chapter 13. Book Four. Invisible Men of Mars Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3. Chapter 4. Chapter 5. Chapter 6. Chapter 7. Chapter 8. Chapter 9. Chapter 10. Chapter 11. Chapter 12. Chapter 13.

Llana of Gathol CD Edgar Rice Burroughs EF

Foreword
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Lanikai is a district, a beach, a post office, and a grocery store. It lies on the windward shore of the island of Oahu. It is a long way from Mars. Its waters are blue and beautiful and calm inside its coral reef, and the trade wind sighing through the fronds of its coconut palms at night might be the murmuring voices of the ghosts of the kings and chieftains who fished in its still waters long before the sea captains brought strange diseases or the missionaries brought mother-hubbards.
Thoughts of the past, mere vague imaginings, were passing idly through my mind one night that I could not sleep and was sitting on the lanai watching the white maned chargers of the sea racing shoreward beneath the floodlight of the Moon. I saw the giant kings of old Hawaii and their mighty chiefs clothed in feather cape and helmet. Kamehameha came, the great conqueror, towering above them all.
Down from the Nuuanu Pali he came in great strides, stepping over cane fields and houses. The hem of his feather cape caught on the spire of a church, toppling it to the ground. He stepped on low, soft ground; and when he lifted his foot, the water of a slough rushed into his footprint, and there was a lake.
I was much interested in the coming of Kamehameha the King, for I had always admired him; though I had never expected to see him, he having been dead a matter of a hundred years or so and his bones buried in a holy, secret place that no man knows. However, I was not at all surprised to see him. What surprised me was that I was not surprised. I distinctly recall this reaction. I also recall that I hoped he would see me and not step on me.
While I was thinking these thoughts, Kamehameha stopped in front of me and looked down at me. "Well, well!" he said; "asleep on a beautiful night like this! I am surprised."
I blinked my eyes hard and looked again. There before me stood indeed a warrior strangely garbed, but it was not King Kamehameha. Under the moonlight one's eyes sometimes play strange tricks on one. I blinked mine again, but the warrior did not vanish. Then I knew!
Leaping to my feet, I extended my hand. "John Carter!" I exclaimed.
"Let's see," he said; "where was it we met last--the headwaters of the Little Colorado or Tarzana?"
"The headwaters of the Little Colorado in Arizona, I think," I said. "That was a long time ago. I never expected to see you again."
"No, I never expected to return."
"Why have you? It must be something important."
"Nothing of cosmic importance," he said, smiling; "but important to me, nevertheless. You see, I wanted to see you."
"I appreciate that," I said.
"You see, you are the last of my Earthly kin whom I know personally. Every once in a while I feel an urge to see you and visit with you, and at long intervals I am able to satisfy that urge--as now. After you are dead, and it will not be long now, I shall have no Earthly ties-- no reason to return to the scenes of my former life."
"There are my children." I reminded him. "They are your blood kin."
"Yes," he said, "I know; but they might be afraid of me. After all, I might be considered something of a ghost by Earth men."
"Not by my children," I assured him. "They know you quite as well as I. After I am gone, see them occasionally."
He nodded. "Perhaps I shall," he half promised.
"And now," I said, "tell me something of yourself, of Mars, of Dejah Thoris, of Carthoris and Thuvia and of Tara of Helium. Let me see! It was Gahan of Gathol that Tara of Helium wed."
"Yes," replied the war lord, "it was Gahan, Jed of the free city of Gathol. They have a daughter, one whose character and whose beauty are worthy of her mother and her mother's mother--a beauty which, like that of those other two, hurled nations at each other's throats in war. Perhaps you would like to hear the story of Llana of Gathol."
I said that I would, and this is the story that he told me that night beneath the coconut palms of Oahu.
EF

The Ancient Dead (The City of Mummies) CD Book One EF

Chapter I .
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No matter how instinctively gregarious one may be there are times when one longs for solitude. I like people. I like to be with my family, my friends, my fighting men; and probably just because I am so keen for companionship, I am at times equally keen to be alone. It is at such times that I can best resolve the knotty problems of government in times of war or peace. It is then that I can meditate upon all the various aspects of a full life such as I lead; and, being human, I have plenty of mistakes upon which to meditate that I may fortify myself against their recommission.
When I feel that strange urge for solitude coming over me, it is my usual custom to take a one man flier and range the dead sea bottoms and the other uninhabited wildernesses of this dying planet; for there indeed is solitude. There are vast areas on Mars where no human foot has ever trod, and other vast areas that for thousands of years have known only the giant green men, the wandering nomads of the ocher deserts.
Sometimes I am away for weeks on these glorious adventures in solitude. Because of them, I probably know more of the geography and topography of Mars than any other living man; for they and my other adventurous excursions upon the planet have carried me from the Lost Sea of Korus, in the Valley Dor at the frozen South to Okar, land of the black bearded yellow men of the frozen North, and from Kaol to Bantoom; and yet there are many parts of Barsoom that I have not visited, which will not seem so strange when there is taken into consideration the fact that although the area of Mars is like more than one fourth that of Earth its land area is almost eight million square miles greater. That is because Barsoom has no large bodies of surface water, its largest known ocean being entirely subterranean. Also, I think you will admit, fifty-six million square miles is a lot of territory to know thoroughly.
Upon the occasion of which I am about to tell you I flew northwest from Helium, which lies 30 degrees south of the equator which I crossed about sixteen hundred miles east of Exum, the Barsoomian Greenwich. North and west of me lay a vast, almost unexplored region; and there I thought to find the absolute solitude for which I craved.
I had set my directional compass upon Horz, the long deserted city of ancient Barsoomian culture, and loafed along at seventy-five miles an hour at an altitude of five hundred to a thousand feet. I had seen some green men northeast of Torquas and had been forced up to escape their fire, which I did not return as I was not seeking adventure; and I had crossed two thin ribbons of red Martian farm land bordering canals that bring the precious waters from the annually melting ice caps at the poles. Beyond these I saw no signs of human life in all the five thousand miles that lie between Lesser Helium and Horz.
It is always a little saddening to me to look down