Dahud, fille unique du roi Gradlon, tente de préserver Ys, cité libre et progressiste, de la religion chrétienne. Une vision contemporaine et graphiquement sublime du célèbre mythe de la cité engloutie...Parti combattre, le roi Gradlon s'éprend d'une reine guerrière qui meurt en accouchant de leur fille. Inconsolable, il se désintéresse de tout, jusqu'à sa rencontre avec un ermite chrétien qui le convainc d'embrasser sa foi. Hostile à cette religion patriarcale, sa fille Dahud s'exile à Ys, la cité que son père a bâti pour elle. Mais les ambitions de vie alternative que la jeune femme y développe rencontrent rapidement l'hostilité de l'homme d'église...
J'étais très heureuse de trouver une version féministe de l'histoire que j'ai toujours pensé trop rude envers Dahud ! Les couleurs étaient splendides !
Cependant j'ai eu du mal à accrocher et je crois que c'était dû en partie à la police d'écriture difficile à déchiffrer.
The scribbly, wonky art turned me off (it all felt like hasty preliminary sketches, not a finished product), and the scribbly font made everything difficult to read. I didn't sympathise with any of the characters, and interesting parts were quickly glossed over and relegated to the background, leaving centre-stage to some dull, annoying drama that could only end badly, so there wasn't even a 'what will happen next?' tension, because you *knew* everything is going downhill and it didn't feel tragic, just exasperating. (I know this is apparently a well-known legend, but good retellings will still make you hold your breath or sit on the edge of your seat even though you know the ending, and this just made me facepalm and sigh wearily.) The antagonist was very flat and dull, with no nuance to the problem he presented. Actually, everybody was rather flat. There are much better retellings out there--for example, 'Toil and Trouble' by Mairghread Scott tells Macbeth from the Wyrd Sisters' perspective, giving these characters their own story and character development within the well-known story of Macbeth, and didn't just fall back on daddy issues and bullcrap seduction (seriously, what woman of supposed wit and strong character--the very characteristics that supposedly made her antagonists oppose her--would fall for that guy's crap?). Ys could have taken a few lessons from that.
A king battles a ferocious warrior queen, is beaten but spared by the woman, who takes a fancy at him. They flee, make love at sea where their daughter is born. Tragically the queen doesn’t survive and the king returns to his kingdom with just his daughter.
He converts to the Christan belief, appoints a priest as his councillor after his kingdom quickly becomes devoid of everything pleasurable. This is much to the chagrin of his daughter, whom he bestows a city to rule by herself, down by the sea, the hedonistic city of Ys. Sea-goddesses protect the city against te sea with a magical gate, to be opened with a key in the possession of the queen of Ys, but of course the Christians intrigue against her and use sex (the hypocrites!) to betray her and her city.
Annaïg’s Ys is a feminist retelling of an old Breton-Celtic legend, drawn in bold, jaunty strokes with expressionistic colours by Loïc Sécheresse. An energetic, passionate page-turner about the decline of pre-Christian matriarchy by the hands of Christian patriarchy. Bravo!