Here it is, set complete, promise kept. My sincere thanks to everyone complicit in this labor of love. See you all after April 4th!
We start with a view of stormy skies over dappled hills and a female voice over saying “People disappear all of the time…” As she talks about housewives and kids who are found (usually) and how most disappearances have explanations.
And so we meet Claire, who contemplates that she never had reason to buy a vase, mostly because she has never been anywhere long enough to build the kind of stable decorative support system a young vase needs. I expect her to start talking about other ornamental pottery she never got to own, but no, just the vase. At least the voice over gives us a time. “It was a Tuesday, six months after the end of the war.” So 1946.
Flashback to France, where Claire was a nurse in an army hospital. We see her clamping a vein like a boss, being bled on and kicking ass when a doctor takes over, and she wanders outside to find that the war is over and Champagne is being passed out like cookies, or VD.
Back in present day, Claire muses that “the end of the bloodiest and most terrible war in human history” grows fainter, but damn if she doesn’t remember every detail “of the day [she] saw the life [she] wanted sitting in a window.” She wonders what would have happened had she made a home for the vase. “Would I have been happy? Who can say?” You guys, this is trippy because the voice over is Claire From The Future. She is all-knowing. Like Yoda. “I know now,” Cloda/Yaire says, “even after the pain, death and heartbreak that followed, I would still make the same choice.”
Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand intro! Stream-of-consciousness thoughts:
Dancing nuns! Bambi’s dad! A whip, a pipe and some truly fantastic jawlines & silhouettes prance around the countryside riding horsey horses and metal horses and shooting things and stabbing things while running and walking. There is also some portion of anatomy that I will just say is the back of someone’s knee because I’m a recapper, Jim, not an anatomist!
It ends with a couple on horseback riding like hell, and a stone circle. I played this back about 3x in a row but only pretended to be the dancing nuns twice. The third time I was the stag. Good times. Good credits. Gorgeous song.
Because I read the books, for me seeing the stones was like seeing The Beatles.
Big-band music plays as we close in on Claire and her husband Frank Randall driving through the Scottish countryside on their second honeymoon. Turns out the war kept them apart for five years, and this is a way to reconnect.
The town square is adorable and so are they, with their coats and hats and their inquiries about blood on doorways of superstitious Scots… PRECIOUS. They go register Mrs. Baird’s Inn, and the namesake tells them that the blood they see on the doors is from a black rooster, meant to honor St. Otteran on his feast day (Oct 27). This causes Frank to riff on Christianity squatting on pagan holidays, basically outing himself as a history nerd, and Claire confirms it when she says he’s due to start a professorship at Oxford in two weeks. As Frank nerds hard with Mrs. Baird, I remember who he reminds me of:
Mrs. Baird comments that they picked a good time to visit, near Samhain, and warns them to look out for carousing ghosts who ‘get a pass’ that day. They smile politely while obviously not believing a word she says, and head upstairs.
They walk into their room, and the voice over tells us that although Claire and Frank were once inseparable, they only spent 10 days together in the last five years, and things had not gone back to normal. You can tell by the way they act around each other, Claire determinedly cheerful and Frank a bit nervous.
Frank sits down on the bed and comments on the very loud mattress, dryly noting that “Mrs. Baird will be kept appraised of any renewed attempts to start a family.” I take this as a sign of impending shenanigans, but he goes back to reading his notebook. Claire, obviously the fun one, calls him out as a “lazybones” who will never manage to grow that family tree unless he actually um, fertilizes the soil.
She starts to jump on the bed and convinces him to join her, and they both laugh and bounce so hard that Mrs. Baird below glances up at her chandelier. They stop to catch their breath and Claire says that one of the things she would try and be unable to recall at night was the sound of her husband’s laughter. Frank, touched by this, reveals that he used to sketch the lines of the palm of her right hand, even once into a report. He kisses her palm very tenderly, and she kisses him.
He tries to interrupt her to say something, but she shushes him and pulls him down with her to kneel on the bed as she takes his jacket off. Downstairs, Mrs. Baird watches the chandelier shake gently, and smiles.
Some time later, they are driving through the countryside. Frank points out Cocknammon Rock, where English soldiers would lie in ambush for Scottish brigands and rebels in the 17th and 18th centuries. Claire smiles indulgently, and remembers being raised by her Uncle Lamb, an archaeologist. She traipsed all over the world as a child, digging latrines and smoking cigars like all little girls dream about doing. This is no wilting flower.
They arrive at some ruins, and Claire tells us that Frank had developed an interest in his personal genealogy while she was cataloging plants for their medicinal purposes. Frank announces that they are at “Castle Leoch, the ancestral home of the Laird of the Mackenzie clan until midway through the 19th Century.” They go inside to take a look in what he thinks was the kitchen, crumbling and overgrown with vines. Claire tells us that delving into his past allowed Frank to forget his recent work during the war: running covert operations and overseeing spies.
He had sent dozens of men on secret missions, most of whom never returned. He didn’t talk about it often, but she knows it preyed on him. Frank tells Claire with a smile that there is no proof that his ancestor was ever there, but it was “within his operational sphere” so he may have walked those same halls.
They walk down a dark hallway and push their way past a stuck door into a basement room littered with bottles. Claire jokes that it was where the castle trolls lived, and Frank dryly answers that trolls are solitary and don’t live in pairs, because Frank cannot let an opportunity to nerd hard pass him by. This scene then takes a hard left at Albuquerque. Claire sits on a table and coyly crosses her legs. “All this, and no one to share it with?”
Frank, seeing the glint in her eye, says she’ll get dirty. “You can give me a bath,” she entices, hiking her skirt up. What follows makes me wish I could high-five every single woman reading this recap, and I don’t even have to tell y’all why. I think it’s enough to note that Frank remarks on Claire’s lack of underthings, and when he tries to kiss her, she pushes him downward. He doesn’t even take the camera off his shoulder, people. That’s love.
All Hallow’s Eve, about a week later, the Randalls visit the Rev. Wakefield, who is helping them look into Johnathan Wolverton Randall, Frank’s direct ancestor and a Captain in the Dragoons back in the 1740s.
He was stationed in the area, harassing the locals for about 4 years. Claire remarks on the continuing ill will towards the English, saying that she heard someone in the pub refer to them as “Sassenachs”. Rev. Wakefield clarifies that it just means they are English or at worst, “outlanders.” The reverend’s housekeeper, Mrs. Graham, shows up with tea for the men, and asks Claire if she would like to take hers in the kitchen, which hell yes she does.
Claire remarks on the quality of the tea, and Mrs. Graham reveals that she reads tea leaves, offering to read hers.
Claire laughingly asks if she will meet “a tall dark stranger and take a trip across the sea“? Mrs. Graham smiles, but then frowns at the cup. “Could be…or could not”. It turns out her tea leaves contradict each other. A leaf indicating a journey is crossed by one indicating staying put, and though she meets strangers, one of them is her husband. Mrs. Graham asks to see Claire’s hand, and tells her the pattern on it is one she has not seen before. Some things she can tell: Claire is strong-minded, with a will “not easily crossed,” and her husband “is not likely to stray” from her bed.
Claire’ lifeline is “interrupted, in bits and pieces,” and while her marriage line indicates two marriages, it is not broken, but forked. Just as Claire starts to look worried, Frank and the reverend interrupt. They are discussing the possibility that Black Jack had a powerful protector in his time, and suspect the Duke of Sandringham, a suspected Jacobite who died under suspicious circumstances. Claire takes this opportunity to leave, and warns Frank to come home before the storm breaks.
It is during her walk home that she sees the vase, and is bothered by “a certain sense of prophecy” in Mrs. Graham’s words. The war taught her to cherish the present, the voice over tells us, because tomorrow may never come, but she did not know that tomorrow would come to matter less than yesterday.
That night, Claire brushes her hair by a window and takes the Lord’s (and Roosevelt’s) name in vain. Frank, walking home in the rain, is stopped cold by the sight of a man silhouetted in the dark, looking up at his wife through her window. He is in traditional Scots garb, and seen only from the back.
When Frank approaches him saying “Excuse me, can I help you with something?”, the figure turns to the left and vanishes.
Arriving upstairs in the hotel room, Frank rushes to the window to look outside. Claire, lighting candles since the lights went out, tries to get his attention. She tells him he looks like he’s seen a ghost, and he says that he can’t say he hasn’t. A little later he tells Claire that the man was close enough that he should have brushed past him, but he didn’t feel anything, and he vanished instantly.
He then carefully asks Claire if she had any Scots in her care as a nurse. She remembers one of many in particular, a piper who didn’t like needles. She smiles at the memory, but at the sudden closed look on Frank’s face, Claire wants to know what exactly he is asking.
It turns out Frank thought the man was someone Claire met during the war who “wanted to reconnect,” telling her it would not be unusual that she would have sought comfort. Claire is upset that he thinks she would have cheated on him, but she never actually says she didn’t.
Still, Frank tells her that even if she had it would not matter to him. He loves her, an nothing would stop him loving her. He asks for her forgiveness, she gives it, and they make repentant geek love with their watches on. Claire’s voice over wants to make sure we know that the Randalls never lost their sex-mojo, it being the one way they could find their way back to one another.
Later in bed, Frank tells Claire that he wants to set an alarm to “see the witches”. It turns out there is a circle of standing stones called Craigh Na Dun outside town where druids gather before daybreak, and he wants to see their Samhain celebration.
Early the next morning, they hide and watch the ceremony. Figures in white come out with paper lanterns and begin a stately dance. Among them is Mrs. Graham, the reverend’s housekeeper.
Claire thinks that they should have been ridiculous, but instead there is a voice in her head that tells her she is witnessing something “ancient and powerful,” and that she shouldn’t be there. The dance ends with the rising sun, and the participants disperse slowly.
Frank and Claire walk to the stones afterwards to look around, but sneak off when they see one of the girls coming back. Later that day, Claire wonders about the purple flowers she saw at the base of one of the stones, and Frank recommends she go back and have a look, since he will be at the Reverend’s house all day doing research. They kiss goodbye.
Claire arrives at the stones in her car, and walks up the hill. There is no one there when she picks her flowers, after which a strong wind begins to blow. She stands and walks to one of the stones as if compelled, placing both hands upon it, and the screen goes black.
Via voice over (man, there is a lot of it) Claire tells the story of falling asleep in a car once that fell off a bridge, and how that is the closest she can come to describing how she felt -“but even that fell woefully short.”
She wakes up on the ground next to the stones (which now have trees growing among them) and runs to find her car, except her car isn’t there…and neither is the road.
She keeps wandering around the much denser woods when suddenly, the sound of gunfire startles her and she sees men in the distance. “When confronted with the impossible, the rational mind will grasp for the logical,” says V.O. Claire. She wonders if she has stumbled onto the set of a costume drama (hint: she has), but does not think it makes sense that they are firing live ammunition. An officer shoots at her and she runs away, losing her belt in the process, and right to a creek, where we see a familiar face filling a canteen.
Claire thinks it’s Frank as well, and upon seeing his expression, realizes that it is SO NOT. When she asks him who he is, he introduces himself as “Johnathan Randall, Esquire, Captain of his majesty’s 8th Dragoons, at your service.” When Claire, spooked, runs like a pony, he gives chase and backs her up against a wall with a sword at her throat, asking who she is.
Claire tells him that her husband, Frank Beauchamp, will be looking for her, but he doesn’t believe her. Claire, exasperated, snaps at him to get off her, calls him a bastard and spits in his face, to which he responds that she has the speech of a lady, but the manners of a whore. “I choose the whore,” he says, turning her around and ripping at her underthings. Suddenly, a highlander falls from the sky like a hairy dirty angel and knocks him out, gesturing to Claire to come with him.
She doesn’t understand him but goes along, all the while asking who he is and where they are. The highlander, trying to hide from the redcoats, takes the expedient route to quiet her, knocking her out.
Claire wakes up on his horse, which is arriving at a small cottage. She was wishing it was a dream, but dreams don’t come with smell-o-vision. What they DO come with, however, is a lot of men in kilts. She is shoved inside while the men quite obviously discuss her, but there is no way of knowing because it is not translated for us.
A large man by the fire stands up and walks over, the living personification of a bald eagle, speaking gently to her in English, asking her to come closer to the fire to have a look at her, and for her name. Claire decides to use the surname Beauchamp, in case they intended to ransom her so as to keep her trail from leading to Frank. It’s sweet that she wants to protect him, but if the Captain is any indication, only bastards claim the Randall surname.
The highlander, Murtagh, tells who he found her with (”a certain Captain of Dragoons”) and that there seemed to be a question of whether or not she was a “whuuuure.” The man asks for Claire’s position on the debate and she testily snaps out “I. Am. Not.” Murtagh agrees, saying he would stake his life on it, and uses his name: Dougal. One of the other men jokes about testing her, and Dougal silences him, saying he does not hold with rape.
He is clearly the leader, as the men fall into line immediately. He adds that they will sort it later, and walks back to the fireplace, saying they have to “do something about Jamie first.”
Claire contemplates escape, but has no idea where she is and feels that doing so in the evening “would be a fool’s errand.” She watches the men discuss what to do with Jamie, who has what seems to be a dislocated shoulder and cannot get back on a horse. One of the men wants to “force the joint back” and although Claire knows it would have been wiser to stay silent, she cannot help but rush forward, shouting “Don’t you dare!” when the man gives Jamie a drink to ease the pain, and then takes the arm up to begin.
She tells them to step aside, or they will break his arm. She speaks to Dougal, saying that the arm must be in the correct position before it is slipped back into the joint. He steps aside and lets her examine the injured man, Jamie, who is noticeably less hairy and younger than the other men. YES PLEASE.
She gently bends his arm and then with a brief heads-up, pops it back in. He is astounded, saying that it no longer hurts. She warns him it will, for about a week, and looks up, asking the nearest man to “fetch her a long piece of cloth, or a belt” for a sling. He mocks her, but Dougal snaps at him to giver her his belt. The injured man, Jamie, wryly comments that she must have done this before. She tells him she is a nurse, and his eyes immediately go to her bosom. “Not a wet nurse!” she snaps, and OMG you two, just kiss. He meekly submits as she gives him his instructions for care, at the end of which a much grumpier Dougal makes sure he can ride, and tells the group they are leaving.
When they step outside, Claire worries that she cannot see Inverness, but Jamie tells her she is looking straight at it. She notices the lack of electric lighting and finally accepts that she is no longer in the 20th century. Dougal comes out and tells her that she is ride with them and if she wanders, he will slit her throat. I guess when she was helpless he was a gentleman, but now that he knows she’s a thinker he gets to treat her like dirt. Man, time travel is looking less romantic all the time.
Dougal hoists Claire up into the saddle in front of Jamie, who struggles to cover them both with his plaid to keep them warm and dry through the night, as they will be riding through the next two nights. Even though Claire at first rejects him, she is nothing if not practical.
Lots of gorgeous scenery shots. What an advertisement for the country.
The party is going down a wide path in daylight when Claire looks up, recognizing the rock formation that Frank showed her at the beginning of the episode. She mentions to Jamie that she knows the place, and that the English use it for ambushes. Jamie looks around, noticing that it is a good place for one, and rushes ahead to tell Dougal. Dougal is immediately suspicious of Claire’s information and where she got it from (”the village”), but apparently trusts it enough to give it merit.
As he gestures for them to turn around, however, redcoats burst out at them and Jamie quickly yanks his arm out of the sling and dumps Claire off his horse, telling her to hide herself as the men rush into battle.
Claire briefly lays low and observes the fight, but then takes off running through the woods in an effort to escape. I have no idea why. You would have to pry me from that man’s thighs with a crowbar. Unfortunately for her but fortunately for us, Jamie intercepts her, asking sarcastically if she lost her way.
Claire must feel that misdirection is the better part of valor, because she immediately notices that he is hurt, and points it out to him.
He assures her that it is not his blood (”Not much of it, anyway”) and that they must return as Dougal and the others are waiting for them upstream.
Claire picks this point to dig in her heels and say she isn’t going with him, but he points his sword at her and tells her she is.
She asks him if he will cut her throat if she doesn’t, but he doesn’t rise to the bait. Instead, he uses her earlier concern over his wound to tell her that if she will not come, he will pick her up and throw her over his shoulder.
“D’ye want me to do that?“, he asks, and Claire tearfully spits out a no. “Well then,” says Jamie, “Suppose that means yer comin’ with me.” IF ONLY.
Further up the road, the highlanders toast Claire and Jamie offers her a drink as Dougal glares at her. At first she refuses, but later accepts when he tells her it won’t fill her belly but at least she’ll forget she is hungry. That’s some homeless logic, right there.
That night, they are riding single file when Jamie tumbles over off his horse like a big ol’ handsome oak.
Claire alerts the others and climbs down to examine him. She pulls on his neckline and discovers a bullet wound, promptly berating him for not saying anything while asking the men for disinfectant to avoid germs. What follows is a round of blank stares and repetition of terms which are obviously unknown in this century:
Finally Claire hits upon timeless terminology everyone understands: alcohol. She pours it into the wound, waking Jamie up and causing him to assure everyone that he is all right. What follows is a glorious dressing-down of a grown man by an alpha-female in high dudgeon, and it’s worth recording.
You’re not all right. Couldn’t you tell how badly you were bleeding? You’re lucky you’re not dead, falling and fighting and throwing yourself off horses! All, right, I need a sterile bandage and some clean cloth. [More blank stares.] Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ! [rips her shift and holds her hand out for the alcohol]
As she bandages Jamie, wrestling with the bit of shift, she lets out a “Come ON, you GODDAMNED BLOODY BASTARD,” which manages to shock even Dougal, who comments that he has never heard a woman use that sort of language in his life.
One of the highlanders comments that her husband ought to tan her hide, and another chimes in that St. Paul says ‘Let a woman be silent-’ but he doesn’t finish, because Claire interrupts him, addressing him first, and then Jamie.
You can mind your own bloody business and so can Saint Paul. [To Jamie] And if you move so much as a single muscle while I am tying this bandage, I’ll bloody throttle you!
And the entire time, Jamie stares at her like she just invented ice cream.
At the end of this, Dougal quietly tells her that they have five to seven hours yet to ride, and they will stay only as long as it takes to stem his bleeding and dress his wound. Claire complains that Jamie needs rest, but Dougal ignores her. It is Jamie himself that explains to her that Randall commands the local militia and will have sent out search parties, so it is not safe to stay put for long. Jamie says he knows him, and would not leave her or any other man to risk becoming his prisoner.
He tells her if he is not well enough to ride that they should leave him behind with a loaded pistol. Claire tells him that he should have mentioned being shot. “It didna hurt much at the time,” he says with a grin, and Claire asks if it hurts now. At his affirmative, she smiles and says “Good.”
She offers him a hand up, telling him that it is all she can do for him and the rest is up to her. He says, “Thank ye, Sassenach, truly,” and it is auditory chocolate cake to hear that word said out loud.
She tells him, “Get back on your horse, soldier,” and I am glad she has a super-good looking ally in these crazy, smelly times.
The next day the party rides towards what is unmistakably Castle Leoch, and hallucinates herself, remembering being there two days ago.
“Or is that in the future?”, she wonders, asking herself how she could remember something that technically hasn’t happened yet.
As they enter the grounds, Claire lists the things that have happened to her so far: “assaulted, threatened, kidnapped and nearly raped,” and knows that her journey has only begun.
Want to keep reading? Here’s a master post of all my Outlander stuff.
In my continuing quest to quit playing attention to my family altogether and frolic in a world of Diana Gabaldon’s imagination, here is the previously missing recap for 102. 101 will be done before the premiere, and then I’ll be all caught up! Thanks for reading, sharing is love. Rest of my recaps archived here. Enjoy! ~Connie
We find Claire where we left her, at MacKenzie HQ: Castle Leoch. The highlanders are all happy to be home, but our heroine grimly remembers visiting with Frank, and marvels at the difference time travel makes on the structural integrity of the facade and how much action she’s likely to see once she’s in there. Not everyone is grumpy, dirty, or ridiculously hot, though. There are womenfolk here! A chipper looking lady walks over after a brief hug from Rupert and an even briefer sexual innuendo from a smiling Murtagh.
She looks pretty scandalized at the sight of Claire, who is ‘homeless chic’ by 2015 standards but just plain homeless by 18th-century ones. It’s a great moment, because even if Claire is wet, dirty, and exhausted, her b*tchface game is expert-level and she is not about to lower that head after the day(s) she’s had. The stare-down is quick, intense, and exquisite.
Someone light a torch because it got DARK UP HERE UNDER THIS SHADE.
Jamie rushes to explain to the older woman, Mistress Fitzgibbons, that Claire was found by Murtagh and Dougal decreed that they should bring her along.
Good enough for Mistress FG, who takes her by the arm to do God’s work: feed her and slap her in constricting underthings. As she does so, Claire protests that Jamie’s wound needs cleaning. “Mrs. Fitz,” impressed that Claire knows how to tend to wounds and isn’t scared to put a 6-ft. Scotsman in his prime on blast, recognizes a kindred spirit, and shoos Jamie inside as well.
Indoors, Claire are Jamie are left alone by the fire so she can tend to his wounds and they can window shop each other now they’re barely decent.
If you didn’t ship it before, you will after this scene. Jamie is wrapped toga-style in a red cloth like a hot roman senator, and when Claire gently uncovers him, we find out why. Homeboy is carrying what looks like a layer of fine salted ham around, because there is no way I can think of that as a human back. I’ll just look elsewhere while he drops some necessary exposition.
Jamie tells Claire that his scars are the result of being flogged twice in one week, which just seems like overkill. Turns out that he escaped a charge of obstruction about four years ago, resulting from a visit by English soldiers sent to collect levies on his family farm. His father was away when he heard a scream from the fields, and found his sister Jenny accosted by redcoats.
When he fought them to save her, their leader captured and held her at gunpoint, and when Jamie surrendered, responded like a real douchcanoe: a dry comment about her attractiveness and a yank of her bodice which exposes her bare chest to her brother. This is the same Captain Randall who assaulted Claire in the premiere, and now you know everything you need to about this character: he’s the kind of soulless bastage that will show a man his sister’s naked boobs just to make a point. Jamie knows what I’m talking about.
On top of that image burned on his poor retinas, Jamie also gets to endure his first flogging in his sister’s presence as a lesson to just shush and submit. Randall, exhausted from flaying a man for a pithy reason with what I am sure is a very warm wig, stops for a water break and to casually barter raping Jenny in exchange for putting the breaks on Jamie’s whipping. Jamie warns his sister not to accept, even if Randall should kill him right in front of her. Randall, who must take this as a dare, smirks, takes a knife and knocks Jamie unconscious.
Back at Leoch, Jamie explains to Claire that his sister went with Randall, and when he woke up he was with the most starstruck chickens ever in a wagon bound for Wentworth Prison. Claire straps his injured arm to his side and tells him she is sorry, prompting him to sweetly reply that she is “a kind woman with a good touch” and that her husband is a lucky man.
We ain’t nothing but mammals.
Claire finally takes a moment as she gazes into the fire, and the thought of Frank overwhelms her -and us- as we get our first Frankback. It makes sense that Claire would wonder how he’s handling her absence, and if he he thinks her abducted, dead, or unfaithful. We see Frank and the Reverend in a flashback
(flashforward?) searching for Claire and finding only her abandoned car which is great because at least he doesn’t have to deal with his insurance on top of all the other stress he has going on.
Back in the 18th century, Claire finally breaks down. Jamie, who is totally asking for a friend, inquires if her husband is “not alive”, and she answers with a strangled “No, actually, he’s not alive” as she realizes her husband is centuries from birth and she is for all intents and purposes, a hot widow. Claire cries as Jamie holds her and shushes her and I know it is inappropriate but I hear fireplace sex is amazing and life-affirming in the face of our unavoidable mortality. JUST SAYING. I mean, LOOK AT THEM.
There is a beat where they pause and stare at each other, and I silently will them to kiss. Or fist bump. Or do my taxes. I don’t care, I just love them together. Proper Claire must feel it too, because she jumps back a couple of feet and apologizes to Jamie for letting him smell the donuts when she can’t let him taste the
Jamie quietly tells her that she “need not be scairt” of him, “nor anyone else here,” so long as he is with her. It’s a lovely offer and well-timed, but Claire, who has never met a blanket statement worth taking at face value asks what she does when he is NOT with her, and the answer’s pretty obvious to me.
Jamie, who is unlike me mindful of the plot, advises her to never forget she is an Englishwoman “in a place where that’s no’ a pretty thing ta be.”
He then gently tells her to rest, as she’s “worn out” and someone will want to grill speak to her soon.
That evening, Mrs. Fitz wakes Claire up and we learn that she slept the entire day. After one lone spoonful of broth, Mrs. Fitz helps her shed her weird French corset, and introduces her (and us) to the process
of dressing a decent lady in 18th-century Scotland. It is long and involves a lot of wool, but the end result is
pretty spectacular, as far as makeovers go. Like a Jacobite Miss Congeniality.
She’s escorted to meet with the MacKenzie, where she sneaks a peek at a letter to glean the date:1743. The man in question stands in the doorway, and introduces himself as “Colum ban Campbell MacKenzie,”
Laird of the Castle. The camera pans to his bowed legs, but Claire says nothing. He speaks to her very kindly, and Claire responds to him just as gracefully, asking him to thank his brother, Dougal for his
assistance and to arrange for her transport out. It’s all crazy civil for two people who are BS’ing each other with every syllable.
Colum quickly answers that he is sure he can arrange it, but leans in to ask for more information about how she came to be found in her shift, wandering in the woods because we all know the English would never wander in the woods in such informal clothing. Claire remembers discussing interrogation techniques
at a pub with Frank and the Reverend Wakefield, and that the advice given to officers was to “stay as close to the truth as possible, altering only that information which must be kept secret.” Mmmkay….
So she tells Colum she is a “widowed lady from Oxfordshire” who was on her way to France with a manservant when they were set upon by bandits, and escaped, leaving her horse and property and sucker manservant behind. It was when she was in the woods, minding her own, that Capt. Randall happened upon her and she was “relieved of [her] clothes.” Man, that accent makes it sound way better than it was. Colum asks her if she expects him to believe that an English officer would rape a lady “for no good reason” and Claire responds on behalf of all womankind, asking him if there is “ever a good reason” for rape.
Attagirl. Colum, knocked off guard by a thinking female, chooses to zag instead of zig and tells Claire she
can leave with a tinker, Sean Petrie, when he passes through Leoch on his way to Inverness 5 days hence. In the meantime, she should you know, chill and maybe put on another layer of clothing.
Claire wanders to the ramparts to muse via voiceover about how trippy it is to witness history firsthand when she looks down and catches some of the young boys at play with a laughing Dougal. Dougal smiling sincerely is such a surprising sight that it’s damn near magical. Like some sort of magical animal.
But really, he is quite handsome as he smiles and plays with a little redhead boy (Hamish, he calls him) that he is clearly close to, and Claire questions if this time is truly that much different from her own.
Later that night Claire and her rack (she is seriously the only woman not wearing a kerchief or fichu and those babies are time traveling at least a couple of seconds into the future) go to the Hall for dinner.
She is invited to sit at the main table with the family, where she is introduced to Colum’s wife Letitia, who has only known her 5 seconds and is already complaining about her ovens because she has no manners whatsoever. NO ONE CARES, LETTY. Colum plies Claire with wine and asks about the pronunciation of her name and what part of France her relatives come from.
Claire fields both neatly (Some relative adopted the English spelling, near Compiègne in the north) and then witnesses a bit of strain about the brothers when she asks about Jamie. It turns out that Dougal has sent him to the stables for some reason, and tells his brother that he can countermand the order if he disagrees. After a pregnant pause, Colum agrees that he is fine there and asks for “the rhenish” to be brought out. The rhenish we come to find out, is pink and packs quite a punch. Claire drinks it eagerly, remarking on how delicious it is while Colum continues to pepper her with questions about her planned trip to Compiègne. Claire’s starting to get suspicious, and thankfully the little redheaded boy from before, Hamish, comes running through and she stops him to say hello.
Laetitia tells him to introduce himself, and Claire answers enthusiastically that she saw him playing in the courtyard with his father, who she implies is Dougal. Hamish is confused and the adults are stock-still. Claire, well-lubricated, has said something she should not. Hamish says he is the “son and heir of Colum MacKenzie” and everyone groans in unison over the laugh track.
Claire hastens to excuse herself, pleading tiredness, and once alone in the hall, berates herself for falling for “the oldest trick in the book,” allowing herself to be plied with food and liquor into letting her guard down during an ongoing interrogation. She promises to be more vigilant, but not to quit drinking wine because that’s just ridiculous and untenable.
The next morning, Claire wanders into the kitchen to ask Mrs. Fitz about Jamie so she can ‘change his dressing’ and Mrs. Fitz is all ORLY? I KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS.
Petition for a flashback series where Mrs. Fitz roams the Scottish countryside dispensing wisdom, food and eyerolls and IDK, solving crimes. And making out. I bet Fitz was a RIOT.
Claire walks to the stables and notices one of Dougal’s men following her. She arrives to the sight of Jamie leading a white horse around on a lead while he coos at it, heretofore known as “the moment we all wished we were a horse.” He’s closing in on first base when Claire knocks a metal bit over and the clang startles the horse, who rears up. Claire apologizes, but Jamie says that “she’s just a girl with spirit,” which is “never a bad thing” because Jamie is trying to make me leave my husband. Even the horse is in love.
Now that his horse is on a break, Jamie asks Claire WHATUP and she is all BANDAGES AND GRUB, SON so they move the party to the stable.
Jamie is eating like a growing boy when Claire decides to food-shame him by implying he’d eat grass. JOKE’S ON YOU, CLAIRE. Not only has he sampled the delights of turf-n-turf, but he has also raided cattle, is a wanted man with a price on his head as much as a farmer earns in a year, and accused of murder but says he didn’t kill the man. He tells Claire he was unconscious because of the flogging, and escaped with the aid of friends, one of whom killed the guard to aid his escape. On second thought Claire, you may want to avoid this one.
Claire correctly guesses that his last name is NOT MacTavish, and Jamie crouches down to tell her that while he doesn’t think anyone in the castle would betray him, there might be those in the countryside
that would like to make money by turning him in. In other news, I had to rewind four times to write that one sentence. I think Claire knows what’s ailing me.
Was everyone not RIVETED? If you were not, you are dead inside. DEAD.
And yet Claire is a woman out of time, not out of her damn mind. She manages to get her eyes up long enough to ask if Colum knows he is an outlaw, and Jamie grins, probably because it’s time to reel us all back in with the power of his lady-mojo so we will forget that he is truly %$#@. IT WORKS.
I know, honey. You two are adorable. I want to put you in my Barbie Dream Scottish Keep and smoosh your faces together with all the finesse and passion in my romantic 9 y.o. heart. Anyhoo, both Colum and Dougal know because get this: they are Jamie’s uncles, his mother’s brothers. SOMEONE BOTTLE THOSE GENES. The MacKenzies make hot potatoes, and Claire clearly wants to mash them.
She asks Jamie why he didn’t lie to her or tell her it wasn’t any of her business. Jamie says he didn’t think of it and decided to trust her instead. I’ll tell you what I trust. SCIENCE. Specifically, chemistry. There’s a reason Jamie decided to trust her, and you can see it clearly here in exhibit A.
Still, it’s only episode 2, so that bastard Auld Alec had to come and ruin our fun.
He wants Jamie to quit freaking nourishing his body and get back to talking to horses, damn it. Claire asks Jamie to thank her by trying not to get flogged or stabbed today. “No promises, Sassenach,” he grins, and I faint like a small goat.
This is about the high point of Claire’s day, because when she heads back, she decides to confront Rupert, and ask if Dougal is having her followed. He gives a really complicated answer about eyes and heids which is pretty much a yes.
Claire stomps off to give Dougal a piece of her English mind while Rupert follows her and recites a litany ways Claire can avoid having his guard partner Angus attempt to shag her, most of which involve not being a barnyard animal or bathing. Hopefully she won’t regret taking notes on that.
Once Claire catches up to Dougal and confronts him, he quietly admits that he thinks she is an English spy, since she’s not been honest about why she is there. Until he is sure of her, he’ll have her watched all the time. Claire answers that it’s fine by her because he won’t see anything in the next four days. When he looks surprised, Claire hits back with the information that Colum told her she is leaving with Mr. Petrie on Saturday, and maybe Dougal doesn’t “ken” his brother’s mind as well as he thinks. I mentally high five her and then immediately cringe. Dougal doesn’t seem like the type to forget being bested.
Claire decides that for the next few days, she’ll fight fire with a complete lack of oxygen and bore her guards (and Dougal) to death. She sets off to pick things from the garden at Mrs. Fitz’s request, and runs
into Geillis Duncan, who makes overtures of friendship via jokes about offing your spouse LIKE YOU DO. She’s pretty friendly and cute as a button, but still sets my Spidey-senses off.
She knows who Claire is through gossip that she is “likely a Sassenach spy”, but doesn’t mistrust her enough to reveal things about herself, such as that she knows about herbs and people think she is a witch. She tells Claire that the women in the village come to her for abortifacients, and invites her for a visit to
look at her potions and medicinal herbs.
That night in the Hall, Claire mentally diagnoses Colum with Toulouse-Lautrec Syndrome, “a degenerative disease of bone and connective tissue.” She thinks that because of the state of current medicine, Colum is “certainly living on borrowed time.” As Geillis translates, Claire listens to several people bring their grievances to the MacKenzie for him to rule upon.
One such is a young blonde, whose father “accuses her of loose behavior” and “wishes the MacKenzie to have her punished for disobedience.” Everyone is riveted to this outcome when Jamie, who has been whispering to Murtagh, speaks up loudly in Gaelic, walking up to the dais where his uncles are.
Geillis tells Claire that he is offering to take the girl’s punishment. Claire is outraged that he is still injured, but Colum allows it. Jamie chooses fists instead of the strap, which is understandable because that boy has been whipped more than an omelet. Murtagh warns Jamie that his uncle Dougal, who has been
glaring at him this entire time, is “up to something.”
Rupert steps forward and you can tell that he doesn’t really want to punch Jamie very hard, but he’s loyal to Dougal, who has no such misgivings and cues him on every blow. I do love that both puncher and punch-ee are so darn friendly about it, though.
WOOKIT DAT FACE. Poor Rupert.
And it can’t be easy being the one punched, but you wouldn’t know it from this curly little ray of amber sunshine.
Claire asks Geillis how long it lasts, and she answers that only until blood is drawn, “usually when the nose is broken.” Even though Rupert does in fact break his nose with the next punch and Jamie spits blood, Dougal cues another hit, right in Jamie’s wound.
Rupert turns to see if he is done, but no. Everyone but Dougal wants this to be over, but especially Rupert, whose regret is obvious as he hits Jamie hard once more in the face, knocking him down. Murtagh walks over to help Jamie up, and as they stand and stare at Dougal, he finally silently nods to Rupert that it is done. You can almost see the tears of relief on this koala’s face.
Jamie, bruised, bleeding and smiling, limps over to his uncle Colum and bows in a show of gallantry/respect/defiance/endurance, and I think it is important to note that this is when I fell in love with this character. There is an instant of eye contact between he and Dougal, but Murtagh wisely drags him away and out of the hall.
Claire wants to check on Jamie and darts towards him, but Geillis leads her down an alternate route where she is less likely to stir gossip. The girl whose beating Jamie took stares longingly after him as he leaves the Hall.
In the kitchen, Claire asks Jamie why he took the blonde’s punishment, and it wasn’t, as she assumed, because he knew her. He stepped in because the punishment “would have shamed the lass” and it would only take him a couple of days to get over his injuries.
Mrs. Fitz comes in briefly with some willowbark tea and thanks Jamie for what he did. Turns out the girl, Laoghaire, is her granddaughter. Claire tells Jamie to change his bandage in the next couple of days and when he asks if it would not be better if she does it, she answers that she cannot, as she will leave with Mr.
Petrie the next day and will be gone. His disappointment flashes on his face but is quickly masked. He stands up and says, “Then perhaps this is goodbye,” to which she responds “Yes.” They stare at each other for a brief moment when…
The spell is broken as Claire notes that the girl he saved is waiting to speak to him, and says a heartfelt farewell using his first name. “Goodbye to you then, Jamie.” “Safe journeys to you…Claire,” he reciprocates. After she leaves, Jamie sighs once deeply, and turns his attention to the girl waiting in the doorway.
The next day Mrs. Fitz is seeing Claire off with food and hugs when Dougal comes up to them as they are loading her meager possessions in Mr. Petrie’s wagon, saying that Colum would like to see her.
Claire follows him in, flashing back to when she and Frank wandered the halls of the ruined keep in
episode one. Dougal stops to ask if she is okay and she assures him she is, but she is noticeably nervous, and rightfully so.
Inside a large room waits Colum, who casually tells Claire that this was the surgery of Davie Beaton. Clan Beaton produced reknowned healers, and since Davie died from a fever, there has been no healer at Leoch. He asks Claire if she has skill as a healer (“It’s an interest of mine, yes,” she replies) and if she knows the uses of the potions kept there (“Some”).
Claire finds it fascinating, but reminds him that she has to leave. It seems, however, that Claire proved her worth a little too well. Colum tells her that he wants her to continue his work. “But I am leaving,” she says, trying to assert herself. “No,” Colum answers simply, “you’re staying.”
Claire, panicked, asks him if something Dougal said changed his mind. He clarifies that his brother “keeps his own counsel” on her, and that this decision was his. She wants to know why, and he responds simply that it is because it pleases him that she do so. I expected better from thoughtful, polite Colum but I guess now I know why Letitia is so bitter.
Claire, finally pushed to her limit, blurts that it is because of the rumor that she is a spy, and attempts to downplay it.
Colum finally looks her in the eye and tells her that he does believe that she is keeping secrets, and “maybe they’re the type of secrets that every woman has, that pose no threat to me, to Leoch, or to Clan MacKenzie,” but until he knows for sure, she will remain there as his ‘guest’. As he walks away, Claire shouts that he means she will remain as his prisoner.
“Only if you try to leave,” he rejoins, and after he walks through the door, his brother locks it behind him.
Claire, all her hopes in tatters, walks into the same room where she once had some afternoon delight with her as-of-yet-unborn- husband, and breaks into tears.
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So here we are at the mid-season finale. I laughed, I cried, I considered perming my hair and I knit like a flipping banshee. Much like the lauded high-quality bootie we have been exposed to thanks to this show, I hate to see it go, but I LOVED watching it leave. Posted in 2 parts because.
We begin as always with the lovely Skye Boat Song, and I play my usual mental game where I try to recognize each clip and where it comes from. Some are harder than others. Like, why is Claire running here? Towards or away from something? Let’s look.
RUN, GIRL. Damn it, I miss this show already.
First scene, we are in Scotland, 1946. Specifically in the Inverness Police Station, where cops spike their drinks to deal with those pesky victim’s loved ones who won’t leave them alone and get over it already.
That’s right. Frank has become such a fixture at the station that he’s someone used his coat for graffiti. It happens. At least the unnamed vandals who defaced his suit understand what makes him tick. Can’t say the same for the detective, who is very obviously patronizing. Frank listens to him apologize and say that he “wishes he could do more” for him and calmly says it’s his job, perhaps he could do that? The detective replies that he understands he is “disappointed” and I actually stood up and cheered “Disappointing? That’s an interesting word. It suggests expectations that were unmet. My expectations of your department were low to begin with and I can assure you that you have met those expectations at every turn.” DAYYYYUM SON. /highfive
This is enough for the detective to finally lose his patience and let him have it. He reminds Frank that they spent the past six weeks “searching over 100 square miles of rugged terrain, conducted 175 interviews, invested over 1000 man hours…” but Frank don’t care. He wants to know what he “has to show for these efforts.”
As he speaks, the camera pans over to bulletin board and the missing persons rewards being offered for both Claire, and the Highlander Frank saw watching her on the night of their arrival, who looks pretty familiar…
Frank emphasizes that his wife has disappeared. “Do you have any idea–at all–what might have happened to her?” The detective says that they didn’t find a body, so they assume that she is still alive. There was “no blood in the car, no sign of a struggle”, so they assume she “probably wasna taken against her will.” Franks’s face hardens. He has heard this before, and deadpans that is is the detective’s “favorite theory.”
The officer’s calm begins to crack and he raises his voice, telling Frank that he admitted that he caught a man staring at his wife through the window the night before she disappeared. Frank says that he has said since the beginning that “the Highlander is certainly involved in some way,” and then the detective finally loses his patience.
He shouts that “OF COURSE he is involved, you fool! He is her lover and the two of them left, together.” Frank doesn’t take well to this.
He slams his fist on the table and shouts, his body shaking and more emotion than we have seen from him in the entire series to date. “My wife is NOT with another man.” It is telling that when he looks around the station and notices everyone is watching him, he almost immediately reverts to calm, as if he himself cannot handle the emotion and the illusion of control is important. He gets his hat and prepares to go.
Back to 1743, where Claire and Jamie are having a snack and gazing at each other like teenagers.
Jamie acts all cute which means he is mostly just breathing and shyly asks Claire if he can ask her a question and she replies “of course.” He says he does not want to embarrass her and imply that she “has a vast knowledge of men,” but that she knows more than he does in such matters. After some prodding from Claire, he reaches over, holds her hand and asks “It is usual? What it is between us when I touch you? When you lie with me? Is it always so between a man and a woman?”
At first Claire demurs and says that “It is often something like this,” but at Jamie’s somewhat dejected look she seems to reevaluate her approach and alters her response. “No. This is unusual. It’s different.”
That seems to please Jamie and there is a very sweet beat as they lock eyes, and then a wee interruption.
Jamie’s eyes widen and he throws himself over Claire to shield her, then tells her “don’t move” as he crawls over to examine the arrow. When he gets a good look at it, this is how you know they are in no real danger.
It really is good and refreshing to see honest open smiles on either of their faces. They are so often swimming upstream a river of sh*t that the moments of joy really hit home for me. Not only is it not danger, it is a friend! Hugh Munro, what looks like the Highland equivalent of a homeless person crossed with that one stuffed rabbit you loved all the fur off of when you were a child.
Hugh is mute, and so communicates mostly by grunts and signs, which Jamie interprets for Claire. I don’t speak Munro, so I just made crap up.
Hugh found them because he saw Dougal watering the horses and came up to where he figured Jamie would be. When he signals towards Claire, Jamie introduces her as his wife, “married just these two days past” and Hugh pulls out a wineskin, insisting that they drink to Claire, after which he has some news for Jamie. Jamie agrees and they all sit. As they pass the wineskin around, Hugh reaches into his bag and pulls something out. Jamie interprets that it is for Claire, “a wedding gift.” It is a dragonfly, trapped in amber.
As Claire admires her gift, Jamie reaches over and taps one of the medallions sewn onto on Hugh’s vest, joking that he has “gone official.” he explains to Claire that they are gaberlunzie pendants, which are official licenses to beg within the borders of a single parish. Claire notes that he has “at least a dozen” by her count, and that is when Jamie says that Hugh is special, as was “captured by the Turks at Sea, and spent many years as a slave in Algiers”, where he lost his tongue. Claire asks if they cut it out and Jamie says that that and hot oil on his legs is how they got “Christians to convert to the Musulman religion.” When Munro appears lost in memory, Jamie prods him for his news.
Turns out he has encountered a man named Horrocks, a redcoat deserter, who is willing to meet Jamie and provide testimony that Jamie did not kill the Seargant at Fort William. Munro cannot vouch for Horrocks’ trustworthiness, but Jamie wants to go meet with him, as having the price lifted from his head would mean he could take his new wife home to Lallybroch. He is terribly excited and hopeful and he hugs Claire, who has to go be a total downer because God forbid you should just hug your hot young Ginger husband who is totally into you and JUST ENJOY IT.
A sincerely awesome shot of her hands blurs into Frank’s left hand with is ring finger on it, and we are back to 1946 to the owner of said hand, in the Reverend Wakefield’s house telling him that the police are not interested in his theories on what may have happened to Claire. The Reverend thinks she may have fallen in a river and been carried up to 20 miles into the forest. Even though Frank is being polite, you can tell that the Detective hit a nerve and that the Reverend, however well-intentioned, is starting to annoy him.
Rev. Wakefield is getting on his last nerve by telling Frank about how Claire could be living in a cave (IT HAPPENS) and subsisting on “fish and frogs” when he (and all of us) are distracted. Mrs. Graham comes in with a snack and she is followed by his tiny, adorable nephew, Roger. Pause FOR THE CHEEKS. They demand it.
There is a sweet bit when Roger asks for two cookies and the Rev. Wakefield tickle-chases him asking if he is going to “eat all my biscuits” and I am thinking about how it must say to share somewhere in the Bible and Frank is staring at them like “Great, now I have to be reminded that I am a childless sad sack, too.” Roger goes upstairs to bed, and Frank glares at the board with all the clippings related to Claire’s disappearance.
Mrs. Graham offers him tea because he is English and I’m pretty sure that is how they mediate all disputes, but Frank says he needs “something a bit stronger” and, refusing the Reverend’s company, asks that they not wait up for him.
At what I assume to be the nearest pub, he looks like a PSA for how you handle this situation.
I honestly identify with Frank probably for the first time ever during this scene. There is a fragility to Tobias Menzies’ sadness laid over a core of anger that feels very real, a man at absolute emotional bottom. So of course, here comes a blonde Eve to tempt him with a metaphorical apple.
She sits next to Frank and greets him with a smile and a “Good evening…Mr. Randall” which gets his attention. She says he can call her Sally, although that is not her real name. He gives her a once-over and asks, “What can I do for you, Sally?” She says it’s what she can do for him, and you can tell he’s intrigued.
Sadly, no sexcapades (and really, who could blame him). Rather she takes out one of the leaflets advertising a reward for information regarding Jamie and tells Frank that “I ken where he is”. “Where?” Frank says immediately, and she replies, “Close. I can take you to him.”That’s all Frank needs to hear to jump up and get ready to go, but Sally places a hand on his arm and says “Not now. There are too many eyes and ears in here.” She asks Frank to meet her “at half past midnight” on Drummond lane, past the cobbler’s shop, to bring the reward, and to come alone. She gets up to leave, but poor hopeful Frank has one more question, and he grabs her hand to stop her from leaving and ask if Claire is “with him”. Sally says she doesn’t know, she’ll arrange the meeting and the rest is up to him.
When she leaves, he drinks the rest of his drink and asks the bartender for another. You get the sense that he’s not going home until after the meeting, and that he may be drinking up to that point. Wise choice.
In 1743, the Mackenzies have camped for the night, Rupert is telling the legend of the water-horse, and Jamie and Claire are gazing at each other, vigorously handfornicating and waiting for everyone to fall asleep so they can hit it.
Jamie tells Claire that “it will be Yuletide” by the time they return to Leoch, and she asks if they hang stockings by the chimney. “To dry them off, you mean?” says adorably clueless Jamie and Claire laughs because she is a heterosexual human female and adorable Jamie demands it. It is a lovely, sweet calm moment.
But is is Outlander, so those don’t last.
Claire notices the change in the vibe and asks what is wrong, and Jamie says the horses are restless and that someone is out there, and not to move. Those horses are better than an alarm. The storytelling goes on and everyone appears to continue what they are doing, but there is an alertness that underlies each action that tells you every man in that camp is preparing for sh*t to go down.
Jamie gives Claire his knife under cover of a kiss, and tells her that at his say-so, she is to go behind a hollow log and hide.
He strokes her hair, waiting for word from Dougal and, at his nod, yells “GO!” and all hell breaks loose.
I wanted to try to cap some of the fight, but it is one giant blur, so let me refer you instead to this excellent gifset by outlander-online, and you can just imagine me yelling over it like you do when there’s a fight in the hallway in high school: “FIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIGHHHHT!”
And then it’s over, and it turns out it was a raid by the Grants. Even though they are some grain and one horse poorer for it, everyone is okay and giddy with exhilaration. Jamie calls Claire and she comes, saying she is all right. Ned is downright chipper, asking if anyone saw him hit a perfect shot. The comment breaks any remaining tension and everyone laughs. A crisis averted.
Back in Claire’s time, Frank finally shows up to meet Sally for their appointment, and the moment I see the contrast I worry for the outcome of this. Costuming alone will tell you who holds the power in this situation, and the fact that you can’t really see Frank’s face is visual foreshadowing.
Sally complains that he is late, to which he counters “I am on time” and she explains that she just thought he would be early. You think a lot of things, Sally. She leads him to a secluded area behind a shop, and it becomes obvious that this isn’t what Frank thought it was.
The man who punches him yells “give us the reward” and this is when I check my TV to make sure I am not watching another channel because Frank goes full Batman, but like DARK KNIGHT BATMAN.
Side note: when I was watching this for the recap, my husband wandered in and yelled “Yeah, blackjack that guy!” I got all excited thinking that he watched the show and somehow knew a plot point, but NO. Turns out that what Frank takes out of his pocket for this epic beat down is called a blackjack, and is get this: LEAD WRAPPED IN LEATHER. Kudos to the geniuses behind this production, who managed to tie this all together so neatly.
But first, said epic beat down:
I make fun because it’s what I do, but it is honestly chilling to watch this gentle, hurt man lose whatever control he was hanging on to and echo his ancestor in such a manner. Not only does he viciously kick one of his assailants over and over again once he is down and then start up beating him with the blackjack, but when Sally runs over and shouts “Stop! Ye’re gonna kill ‘im!”, this happened, and my heart just dropped.
That’s right. HE MOTHERF*CKING CHOKES HER as he growls “There is no highlander, is there?” Oh I don’t know, Frank, you’re a goddamn professor. FIGURE IT OUT. A lot of things can be said for violence in this story, both past and upcoming, but I’ve always personally felt it flowed with the time and the story, and this struck a discordant note for me. I did not feel it was justified, or really even congruent. I could have fathomed him grabbing her and tossing her to the ground, wrenching her arm, but this just felt out of bounds. Any sympathy I felt for Frank flew right out of my mouth in a string of curse words. In an episode riddled with violence, it was the one moment I felt truly uncomfortable. Although, if that was the writers’ purpose, bravo folks. You got me.
Sally finally chokes out a no, and Frank lets go of her, flipping back to Bruce Banner before our very eyes. He backs up slowly, we hear the Reverend Wakefield’s voiceover begin as the scene shifts back to the vicarage, and it’s an important one.
“It’s fashionable in this modern age to dismiss the idea of good and evil. But there is evil…and it finds purchase in good men by giving sin the sweet taste of ecstasy. The Nazis drank from that poisoned cup thinking all the while they were slaking their thirst with the sweetest wine.”
Franks wants to know if the reverend thinks he drank from that same cup, to which Wakefield responds that “Evil has but one cup,” and taking the metaphor right to its limit says that while many “drink long and deep” his was “but a sip” and that he should make it his last. “Turn away from the darkness that beckons you and turn back to the light,” he counsels gravely. For my purposes, he could have been a bit more direct.
Frank takes this as indirect advice to leave Inverness, and Reverend Wakefield does not disagree. He tells him to “go back to Oxford, start your life over.” “What of Claire?,” Frank asks. “Let her go, just as she has let you go,” Wakefield says very gently. Still, the impact on Frank is visible.
Mrs. Graham overhears them and leaves the room without saying anything when Frank asks the reverend if he believes Claire left with the Highlander “of her own volition.” Wakefield asks him if he has ever read Sherlock Holmes, and tells him that “once you eliminate the impossible, what remains, however improbable, must be the truth.” Frank shuts his eyes and sways and for one terrible moment, I think the is going to vomit. Reverend Wakefield’s point has hit home.
Thank God for comic relief, as we are now back with Jamie and Claire as they hunt through the hills for Jamie’s knife, which Claire dropped the previous night during the raid. Rupert finds it and tries to give it back to Jamie, but he indicates that Claire should have it. “It’s too big and heavy for me,” she complains, and then Rupert answers “Lassies say that to me all the time” so now, to paraphrase Diana, we know how old that joke is.
Ned tells Jamie that if he’s going to give Claire a knife, someone should teach her how to use it to “defend herself from assailants.” Angus is called up as the best man for the job and Claire objects politely, but Jamie cuts her off, saying that “every man and woman needs to learn to defend themselves, Sassenach- especially those married to a Fraser.” He punctuates this with a smooch, and she relents, saying “I think I’m more aware of that every day.”
Dougal, who is overseeing the proceedings while sharpening his own knife, says that “the lass needs a sgian-dubh,” which Jamie says is a “hidden dagger.” Ned explains that most highlanders hide them in their socks, but he has “a more private place” for his.
Claire grimaces, but takes the dagger, and the lesson commences.
Angus explains to her that it is best for her to stab underhanded, as overhead is only good when you are “coming down with considerable force on someone from above,” and Claire nods. Murtagh, watching with Dougal and Jamie, says that “I still say the only good weapon for a woman is poison.” “Perhaps,” Dougal replies, “…it has certain deficiencies in combat.”
Angus helpfully lifts his shirt to show Claire where to stab a man if he is facing her, and when she pantomimes it, he tells her to go off to the side, not in the breastbone lest she lose her knife. He then volunteers an obviously reluctant Willie as victim for a back-stabbing. It’s all informative, but I am riveted by two people I swear I haven’t seen before. Am I alone here? Have I been high?
Seriously, it’s like Dougal and Rupert’s stunt doubles or something. Ghosts? Anything’s possible. In any case, Angus tells Claire that it is hard to stab between the ribs from the back, so her best bet is to go beneath the last rib and stab straight upward into the kidney, and they “will drop like a stone.” Claire pantomimes stabbing Willie and playfully pushing him, and the reactions from the men are priceless. Claire is proud as she laughs and tells Angus “See? Got it.”
In 1946, Frank is sadpacking his sad suitcase when Claire’s suitcase telepathically links to him, because he turns suddenly to look at it.
He must be ripe for seduction, because he picks it up and sets it on the bed, bracing himself to open it.
After a beat, he opens it and stands looking inside. It looks pretty standard, with her books and gloves placed neatly above her clothes, but he tugs something out by the edge and stands looking at it, swallowing convulsively. When the camera finally gets hold of it we see what it is, and while I know it’s meant to tug at my heartstrings, the reaction I experienced was somewhat um, uncommon.
At least he has a visual aid to get him through this lonely time. We can understand that, can’t we, Outlanders?
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