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.

Deep Thoughts Outlander 404: Common Ground

Jamie Fraser cuts the cable cherokee

Should we not therefore run all risks, and incur all consequences, rather than to submit to further loss of our country? Such treaties may be alright for men who are too old to hunt or fight. As for me, I have my young warriors about me. We will hold our land.

~Chief Dragging Canoe, Chickamauga Tsalagi (Cherokee)

This week had a lot of calm, chatty Jamie/Claire moments, hugging, dogs acting startled and a metric crapton of woodworking. None of those were what stuck with me. Spoilers ahead for episode 404, “Common Ground.”

Roger Wakefield crying spoilers

Hello, Friend

The similarities between Native and Highlander cultures are repeatedly highlighted throughout the hour. The title sequence featuring Nawohali dressing echoes Jamie’s rolling himself into the long kilt from¬† episode 109, Tawodi spouts philosophical phrases (shout out to Nietzsche) with the same nonchalance as a young Jamie and early on, Gov. Tryon states outright that Indians and Highlanders are alike. This is no coincidence, as Tryon expects Jamie’s empathy with the native plight and therefore wants to hammer home the obligation to the Crown that comes with accepting such a substantial land grant. Jamie responds with his classic grin and noncommittal answers. It’s pretty obvious that he identifies with the native plight…to an extent.¬† When Jamie spoke to Claire of the “rightness” of knowing that the land he accepted was meant to be his home, I couldn’t help but think of the same emotion passed down from one generation of Cherokee to the next and I found myself experiencing echoes of the feelings I had while watching 402. This might be the reason that I couldn’t wholeheartedly cheer for Jamie and Claire, homesteaders. I was very conscious, once again, which side of the ridge I would be sleeping on, and it wouldn’t be the Fraser side. Jamie understands the Indians did not willingly admit the English into their lands (and fought a war over it not long before) and the problematic nature of assuming a culture is ignorant just because it is not shared. Still, his priority is to settle the land, protect Claire and Ian while doing so, and he doesn’t really stop to think about the inherent wrongness of what he’s doing. Instead he muses about how a few lines on a map aren’t stopping the Cherokee (as if they would have stopped him). It made for a bit of emotional distance on my part, because I couldn’t see myself in his eyes here. Even Claire was strangely silent about the ethical implications of what they were doing, which I understand as a dramatic choice. Claire and Jamie’s settlement drives the story forward in a key manner, but it doesn’t make it any easier for me to watch. All the comparisons between the natives and the Highland Scots ignore one crucial difference: race. It’s a significant omission that ignores the privilege that was so expertly highlighted in Rufus’s story. By episode’s end, a truce between the local Cherokee and the Frasers has been struck, and while I don’t doubt Jamie’s sincerity in doing so, it remains to be seen how long it can endure under such fraught conditions.

Good-Bye, Brianna

These poor bastards. I don’t like to get into book vs. show much in these shorter pieces, but the show has really suffered in the development of Roger and Brianna’s relationship. Simply alluding to a year or so of long-distance dating doesn’t really inform the emotions that power and motivate their interactions. Last week’s fight showed us that Brianna and Roger aren’t only on opposite ends of the commitment scale, but also that they have deep, complex feelings for each other. Brianna, logical to the point of being clinical, would not discuss her feelings for him until prompted, despite being much more physically demonstrative than he. Roger never initiated any kisses or physical contact, so it stands to reason he takes this cue on her part as evidence of greater commitment…except it isn’t. Brianna is ready to give her body but not her word, and she of course should expect her partner to acquiesce to that boundary, except sex requires two people to consent, and how Roger chooses to express his lack of such is where it all goes south. The fact that it devolves into the mess it became and that two adults can’t find the words to tell each other they’re sorry is emblematic of the awkwardness that we have come to associate with them, but it needs to stop. In order for this relationship to become like the one we cheer for in the books, there needs to be the careful building of a dynamic here, not just the tossing together of two characters like blocks destined to bounce off each other. Their telephone conversation is loaded with subtext. Listen to it with your eyes closed and Roger’s silences and professional, detached tone are so at odds with the wealth of emotion in his eyes as to make you cringe. Do the same with Brianna, and you miss the regretful twist of her mouth after every impulsive conversational opening that she quickly shuts down. It’s a painful conversation to watch, and not just because I want to shake them both, but because having a stronger foundation for this relationship would help give this so much context, and it just didn’t happen. As a result, we see more of the flaws in their interactions than the reasons we should want them to be together, even if they make perfect sense. Bree opened herself up, and she won’t make the same mistake twice without motivation. Roger laid his cards on the table and now all he has is his pride. By servicing that pride, however, he misses a chance to reconnect and Brianna, her last tether to the modern world cut, quietly leaves to connect with the only people she has left in the world that will love her no matter what.