Premières lignes : A boy called Christmas

Chères lecteurs et lectrices aimant la lecture,

Samedi dernier j’ai commencé le roman jeunesse, en version électronique, en anglais, A boy called Christmas de Matt Haig, illustré par Christ Mould publié par Harper Collins. Ce livre est l’origine du film Netflix A boy called Christmas.

Le rendez-vous hebdomadaire Premières lignes a été créé par Ma lecturothèque  et il vise à faire découvrir un livre au travers de ses premières lignes. Je vise à vous faire découvrir mes nouvelles lectures au travers de ses premières lignes et de sa 4e de couverture.

N’hésitez pas à me faire part de vos réflexions ou à inscrire en commentaire le lien de votre rendez-vous.

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4e de couverture

Première de couverture

« Eleven-year-old Nikolas—nicknamed “Christmas”—has received only one toy in his life: a doll carved out of a turnip. Still, he tries hard to believe in happiness, living with his father in the second smallest cottage in all of Finland. Then one day his father goes missing, and Nikolas must travel to the North Pole to save him. Along the way, Nikolas befriends a surly reindeer, bests a troublesome troll, and discovers a hidden world of enchantment in the frozen village of Elfhelm. But the elves of Elfhelm have troubles of their own: Christmas spirit and goodwill are at an all-time low, and Nikolas may be the only person who can fix things—if only he can reach his father before it’s too late. . .

Sparkling with wit and warmth, A Boy called Christmas is a cheeky new Christmas classic-in-the-making from acclaimed author Matt Haig and illustrator Chris Mould. »

Premières lignes


You are about to read the true story of Father Christmas.

Yes. Father Christmas.

You may wonder how I know the true story of Father Christmas, and I will tell you that you shouldn’t really question such things. Not right at the start of a book. It’s rude, for one thing. All you need to understand is that I do know the story of Father Christmas, or else why would I be writing it?

Maybe you don’t call him Father Christmas.

Maybe you call him something else.

Santa or Saint Nick or Santa Claus or Sinterklaas or Kris Kringle or Pelznickel or Papa Noël or Strange Man With A Big Belly Who Talks To Reindeer And Gives Me Presents. Or maybe you have a name you’ve come up with yourself, just for fun. If you were an elf, though, you would always call him Father Christmas. It was the pixies who started calling him Santa Claus, and spread the word, just to confuse things, in their mischievous way.

But whatever you happen to call him, you know about him, and that’s the main thing.

Can you believe there was a time when no one knew about him? A time when he was just an ordinary boy called Nikolas, living in the middle of nowhere, or the middle of Finland, doing nothing with magic except believing in it? A boy who knew very little about the world except the taste of mushroom soup, the feel of a cold north wind, and the stories he was told. And who only had a doll made out of a turnip to play with.

But life was going to change for Nikolas, in ways he could never have imagined. Things were going to happen to him.

Good things.

Bad things.

Impossible things.

But if you are one of those people who believe that some things are impossible, you should put this book down right away. It is most certainly not for you.

Because this book is full of impossible things.

Are you still reading the book?

Good. (Elves would be proud.)

Then let us begin . . . »

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