Deep Thoughts Outlander 406: Blood of My Blood

John loves Jamie Outlander

Let us live, my Lesbia, and love,
and the rumors of rather stern old men
let us value all at just one penny!
Suns may set and rise again;
for us, when once the brief light has set,
an eternal night must be slept.
Give me a thousand kisses, then a hundred,
then another thousand, then a second hundred,
then yet another thousand, then a hundred;
then, when we have performed many thousands,
we shall shake them into confusion, in order for us to lose the count,
and in order not to let any evil person envy us,
as no one will be aware of how many kisses have there been.

-Catallus

This week’s episode was a favorite. It exemplified one of the things the novels do best: multiple points of view that each feel important. Although Jamie and Claire were at the center of this episode, it didn’t focus solely on their romantic relationship (except for the last few minutes that feature a quote from the above poem), but branched out to show some of the reasons these two exceptional people are just as exceptional apart. Spoilers ahead for episode 406.

Rumor Has It

A lot of this hour focused on the nature not of love, but of the allegiances that love entails. Does loving someone, and being loved by them, entitle us to be the priority in their hearts? I think this is something that changes more and more the older we get and the more allegiances we develop. When one is a child there is often one luminous adult, be they parent or grandparent (or groom) that helps us make sense of the world and our place in it. When we become parents, our children are the ones entitled to our greatest dedication, at least until they become adults. In Jamie’s youth, Murtagh was that adult, and the nature of their bond was so narrow that there was no one he trusted more. Now in his middle age, Jamie has made an unlikely but steadfast friend in John, who he appreciates not only for his own nobility of character but for the lasting commitment he made to raise Jamie’s son. Murtagh, who has only ever experienced loss at the hands of the English, doesn’t understand Jamie’s attachment until he guesses that William is Jamie’s son. Murtagh, who has thought of Jamie as his own son, must now weigh his allegiance to the one-time leader of his clan to that of the new clan he has created with the Scottish expats of Woolam’s Creek. He gently reminds Jamie when he leaves the Ridge that he has kept all his secrets so far, and perhaps can be trusted with the story of William’s mother; it’s a subtle dig that finds its mark. It’s not only Murtagh who struggles with Jamie’s regard for John. Claire, conscious of Jamie’s appreciation of William’s care, is perfectly polite to John in front of her husband but doesn’t hesitate to lay her cards on the table when they are left alone. Claire is making assumptions about John’s feelings for Jamie based not only on her own pain, but on the legacy of Black Jack Randall. William is operating from his memories of Mac and his belief that he is a nobleman’s son, above valuing the affections of a groom. Even the fandom, on occasion mentioning an episode that features one character over another, gets drawn into the fallacy that love of one thing must mean indifference or derision of another, when the opposite is true. So many hearts that begin the hour looking at love as an either/or proposition come to understand by hours’ end that the nature of a true love, one that comes from a good heart, be it eros, philia, storge or Claire’s evergreen agape, is that it cannot be lessened by division, only magnified.

Envy Eats Its Own Heart

John arrives at the Ridge ostensibly to allow Jamie to visit with his son, but it’s no surprise that it’s Claire who confronts him not once, but twice with his reason for coming. There is a searing honesty between these two that, if Jamie and his friendship is anything to go by, is a necessary requirement to a meaningful friendship with either of them. The way their relationship is advanced here, in a sort of abbreviated 3-act play with high emotional stakes, is my favorite part of the entire episode. It begins with a clawing out of boundaries where Claire not only confronts John with his real reason for coming (to see Jamie), but answers his accusation of envy by pointing out that she too, raised a child of Jamie’s and taunting John with the knowledge of what William’s reaction would be, should he learn that John is lying to him about his parentage. Despite Claire saying that her “devastating straightforwardness,” isn’t a choice, it’s certainly more of a choice than John’s sexual orientation, and especially in that time. The way that David Berry delivers that line, tears in his eyes, speaks volumes as to the pain in John’s heart.  While John appears to be dutifully mournful when he tells Jamie of Isobel’s death, he confesses to Claire later, when he believes he is dying, that he felt “nothing” upon the death of his wife despite the fact that they had a life together and that seeing Jamie was a way to see if he still had feelings. He also tells her that he could have had Jamie once and chose not to, when Jamie bartered his body for his promise to take care of William, and Claire is shocked. Not because she would not herself have made the same bargain (remember her submission to the King of France in exchange for Jamie’s release), but because she knows Jamie’s history with Randall and what it must have cost him to make such an offer. The next morning when John wakes, he begs her forgiveness for his indiscretion, and confesses it is the “satisfaction on your face” that grieves him most. When he asks Claire if she knows what it is to love someone and not be able to bring them happiness simply because you were not born the right person for them, it is no coincidence that the hand that reaches out to comfort him is the one with Frank’s ring. John has William, she tells him, communicating in so few words what Frank meant to her as the father to her daughter. John will never be loved by Jamie as he wishes, nor Frank by Claire, but they have places in their hearts that they earned honestly, and that holds a value all its own.

Sunrise, Sunset

A large part of the episode explored Jamie’s relationship with his son, William Ransom. William shows up with Lord John Grey, whose illness forces Jamie to take the boy into the woods and spend time together. We deviate from the book early on, as William remembers Mac the groom when Jamie speaks Gaelic to his horses on their way to the privy. The child’s hurt feelings are expressed in haughtiness. As John points out, this is a boy who has lost two mothers in his short lifetime, and now his father is ill. This illness is the catalyst for Jamie to take the boy out on a tour of the land. William is by turns enthusiastic and mulish. Although it is obvious that he admires Jamie and wants to learn from him, the mention of Jamie’s father reminds him of his own, and he lashes out in his uncertainty and fear, blaming his father’s illness on his visit to Jamie. William, as many children do, feels an intense loyalty to his father. The reminder of him fills him with a guilt that expresses itself in anger. While Jamie is emotionally intelligent enough to recognize his outburst for what it is, he is painfully reminded of the place John has in the boy’s heart, and how he compares. This makes his desperate offer to take Willie’s place for taking the Native’s fish all the more heartbreaking. When he shouts that he is the boy’s father, it’s such a ludicrous proposition that Willie assertively denies it, bravely claiming sole responsibility for the theft. William runs to Jamie’s arms for comfort, and they strike a truce. The next morning on the way back to Ridge, William asks Jamie why he didn’t turn around when he left Helwater. Jamie says honestly that he wanted to, but he didn’t want to give him false hope since he didn’t believe he would ever see him again. His affectionate rush to John and Jamie’s assurance that John is a good father in no way mars the closeness the two have achieved. Both men understand their place in the boy’s life, and when William looks back at Jamie as his horse ambles away from the Frasers’ homestead, his yearning gaze is a beacon of hope for his father’s heart to hold onto that someday, they will see each other again.

Let Us Live and Love

After the emotional turmoil of John’s visit, Claire and Jamie reaffirm their vows, in a way. Jamie washes Claire in a sort of baptismal cleansing. John wasn’t only a reminder of their child, but of their 20 years apart, and their yearning to be together. The ring Jamie gives her is emblematic of their commitment to each other, and the endurance of the Fraser clan in all its varied forms and iterations. Their first kiss, shared on their wedding day, multiplied into a thousand more, to be shared by them, their children, and the generations to come.

 

Deep Thoughts Outlander 405: That Word I Won’t Use

Murtagh Silver Fox Outlander

The title of this week’s episode is, as used throughout the episode, an ethnic slur commonly used by colonialists on native populations to imply they are/were devoid of culture and subhuman. While I’m surprised such a woke production as Outlander chose to use it in this particular manner, I choose not to use it here. You can Google it if you’re interested.

I saw a theme this week, and that theme was hate, and how the worst hate, the most difficult to overcome, is that which has its roots in love. Spoilers ahead for episode 405.

What the Heck Happened to Roger and Bree?

Despite last week’s promo being all about them, a grand total of 3 minutes and 30 seconds out of a 53 1/2 minute episode were spent on the pair. Roger finds out that Bree spent a couple of nights at Baird’s Bed and Breakfast, the same place Frank and Claire once stayed after the war. She left a letter for him that she asked not be sent until a year hence. Roger reads it at the very end of the episode, over a montage of Bree at Craig Na Dun. In the letter, Brianna tells him that she knows of something terrible that will happen to her mother and Jamie, and she wouldn’t forgive herself if she didn’t try to warn them. She also tells him she cared for him “deeply,” and asks that he not go after her. Richard Rankin does his utmost best with so little, flinching as if shot when he reads this. Brianna is at the stones one moment (in a too-short dress that you would think a one-time history major would know better than to wear and a bracelet that tells you more about her feelings than that letter) and gone the next, and that’s that. Drums of Autumn, the novel that corresponds to this season, is the book where Roger and Brianna become main characters. It would make sense to tell their stories in a parallel manner to that of Claire and Jamie, echoing the back-and-forth from the 18th to the 20th centuries that made the first half of season 3 so memorable. Being that we’re a little under halfway through the season, I hope the producers planned that the next episodes focus more on this relationship so that viewers can become as invested as readers in this great fan favorite.

Always Take A Murtagh

In a reunion that ended up being less joyful than it should have been, we meet up with Murtagh, whose wig is EPIC. After a dozen years spent as an indentured servant after we last saw him leave Ardsmuir, his abusive master died, and the widow sold him the smithy in Woolam’s Creek upon his release. Jamie invites him to leave for the Ridge, but Murtagh says he has the smithy and important work, so he cannot. This important work ends up being that old Fraser classic: sedition. Murtagh isn’t only a regulator, but a local leader and a true believer in his cause. Jamie is dismayed to realize his uncle is gearing up for another fight and honestly reveals that he gave his word to help dispel any rebellion as part of his deal with Governor Tryon. Jamie won’t help his godfather, but neither will he interfere. I was reminded of the print shop, and Jamie and Claire’s uncomfortable first conversations.These are men who were closer to each other than anyone else in their lives and now stand on opposing sides of an issue. Murtagh stayed to fight in Culloden for love of Jamie, and for his love, was an abused servant who rebuilt a community. Robbed of his home and his family, Murtagh is now driven by what remains of the great love he had for his family and his country: hatred for injustice, and for the English abuse of power at its heart. Murtagh’s reappearance is a classic case of being careful what we wish for. Now he’s back in Jamie and Claire’s life, his regulator activities are no doubt one of many things gearing up to disturb the fragile tranquility of the life that the Frasers are attempting to build.

What Makes A Father

In a return to the visions that Jamie had of Claire during their time apart, he tells Claire of a dream he had of a diamond-shaped birthmark on Brianna’s neck, behind her left ear. Claire is rightfully amazed, being that she never told Jamie about it but she confirms the birthmark’s existence, and that it is usually…. “Covered by her hair,” Jamie finishes, echoing her. “I kissed her there,” he says quietly, with a rueful grin. The wonder on his face when he realizes it was a real glimpse of his daughter is quickly eclipsed by his loss and Claire hurries to hold him. Jamie, a three-times biological father, has been denied the experience of fatherhood all three times. The brief years spent with Willie and his time with Fergus is about as close as he’s gotten. And you won’t hear me disparage the depth of adopted parental love. Having both adopted and biological children, I can tell you the love is just as punishing and overwhelming and wonderful. I can also tell you the loss of either would be crushing, more so without even the balm of shared memories to soften it. I felt deeply for Jamie during this brief interaction. His love of his children is a hidden furnace, silently feeding a love that he can’t fully express. Jamie, rational being that he is, doesn’t hate easily. Only someone who seeks to harm his family could elicit that emotion, but having a child who is being parented by someone else and an adult, headstrong daughter means his children are largely outside his sphere of control, and at the mercy of fate. Now that Brianna has come back in time and we are due to check in with Willie next week, Jamie will have to reconcile the children he keeps in his heart with the ones that life has seen fit to give him.

It’s Not Your Fault

The episode opens with Claire and Adawehi teaching each other about their languages and their healing by the water. While most of their conversation is mimed, the warmth between the two is unmistakable. when Claire is once more asked about her children and mentions Brianna living “far away,” Adawehi replies that Brianna is there. It’s an indication of just how strong her magic and premonitions were, providing a mournful background to events later in the episode. When Jamie and Ian go to seek families to populate the Ridge, Claire stays behind to deliver a baby at the Mueller residence. Petronella, a young widow, lives with her parents and brother. Gerhard, the patriarch and new grandfather, is described as stubborn by Jamie but is shown to be a loving husband and father and a doting grandfather who purchases a doll for his infant grandchild, named after Claire. The effect of Tawodi’s appearance on the jovial Mueller is instant and horrifying to watch. With a knee-jerk fear that is all too familiar to people of color, Mueller and his son point a musket at the natives trying to water their horses, accusing them of trying to violate property lines that they don’t even recognize. Claire’s friendship with Adawehi temporarily defuses the confrontation, but later, when the measles take Petronella, her brother and the infant, that same association dooms her. Mueller doesn’t hold the men responsible, but rather Adawehi, citing her as a witch, the source of the curse and implying that his position as a Christian should have exempted him and his family from death. Aside from the casual misogyny so prevalent in the time, the belief that his faith makes him morally (or in this case, physically) superior to the natives. Adawehi’s parting words to Claire last episode finally make sense. Her death is a direct result of the perversion into hate of two great loves: the love of a father and the love of God. Mueller uses these to justify great hatred and terrible violence, and because of this, whether by the hand of the Great Spirit, God, or both, it is returned to him in the same manner. Claire, bringer of life, mender of bodies, is unprepared for the emotional weight of such hatred. After being presented with the evidence of Mueller’s crime, she asks him to leave and spends her remaining time alone tensely defensive. As with all hate, it take the return of love to diffuse the fear and impotence that hatred brings. When Claire asks Jamie to hold her, it is as if he is squeezing all of us through the screen, a tiny island of reassurance in an ocean of turmoil.