August might as well have been Outlander month, for all I paid attention to anything else.
I read Outlander late last year and enjoyed it, but I also found it very strange and disturbing in parts (and not in a way that I found altogether explicable). Ultimately, despite my reservations about some of the content (not the things that happened, necessarily, more the way Gabaldon treated them in her prose*), I decided to continue the series, probably one a year to stay current with the show, which I was very excited for. And then I watched the Outlander pilot free online and just suddenly needed to read book two, which I finished reeeaaallly quickly, and then immediately dove into number three. I had to stop myself from going full bore and reading the rest of the series right away.
*For instance, it’s understandable that corporal punishment would come up between a husband and wife in that time period, but I needed Gabaldon to somehow acknowledge her issues with it through Claire, and I didn’t think it was emphasized enough. As a point of interest, I also vehemently disagree with people who read the book and ragequit when they hit that scene, firstly because people who do that lack the context of the full story (perhaps the characters come to terms with the scene later in the book, or even later in the second book, as is the case here); and secondly, because placing your own feelings about domestic violence nowadays onto historical characters is not a fair thing to do, nor is divorcing them from their historical context by reading your own culture onto it. We have an entirely different emotional landscape for abusive relationships today than they did back then. Today, a man beats his wife, we know exactly what kind of guy he is and what his issues are. Reading that same context onto a scene where a man hits his wife once and feels bad about it, while living in a culture that didn’t stigmatize marital violence, is not the same thing at all, and we shouldn’t treat it like it is. I think it’s certainly good (even expected) to feel really uncomfortable while reading that scene, but to then write off the whole story because of it seems to miss the point entirely, especially as in later books it’s part of Jamie’s development to learn exactly why it was wrong for him to spank Claire in those first few weeks of their marriage. Okay, ranting over for now.
I was a bit thrown for a loop with this one right up front. Twice. Firstly because it starts out twenty years after Outlander, with Claire and her grown-up daughter Brianna living in the 1960s. How she got there and why she left, we have no idea, but she and Bree are visiting Scotland on holiday, but also not-holiday. Claire seeks out Roger Wakefield (who we last saw as a wee lad), who is now a historian, to help her track down what happened to some men after the Jacobite rebellion. The second thing is, about 100 pages in, we go to flashbacks and follow Claire and Jamie from where we last left them in Outlander (in France, Claire pregnant), and the content was not what I was expecting, especially after the crazysauce ending of the first book, with all the beatings and rapings and dramadrama. It was relationship stuff for Jamie and Claire, but it’s also a shit ton of history, and I was unprepared for that. I quickly adjusted my expectations, however, and soon I realized I liked the balance of drama and history and politics better here in Dragonfly than I had in Outlander. Perhaps it’s just because Claire is invested in her circumstances and surroundings this time around, instead of trying to escape them, but this book felt much more grounded than the first.
I also really liked that surprising structure. It’s full of tension. I liked Bree and Roger and their bookended sections of the story, as we unravel what’s happened to Claire in the last twenty years (she’s now a doctor, for one). The sense of mystery created by the missing twenty years was agonizing but entertaining. And when we’re with Claire and Jamie in France, we follow them as they try to navigate Jamie’s outlaw status, and try (in vain) to prevent the Jacobite rebellion, hobknobbing with the likes of Bonnie Prince Charlie himself, as well as the court and the King of France, for fuck’s sake. If the last book was about Claire deciding to stay back in time and be with Jamie, then this book is about them learning to navigate their differences as a married couple (one of whom is a time traveler), and also the trauma they both experienced at the hands of Black Jack Randall. This is the book where they really learn how to be a couple, and it’s way more interesting and compelling than it has any right to be.
Of course, just because I enjoyed this one more doesn’t mean what I’m going to call ‘The Gabaldon Weird’ isn’t there. It’s not there to quite the extent it was in Outlander (with all that rapey rape at the end), and it’s actually a positive weird . . . but it’s still really fucking weird. (For those who are curious: I speak of the scene where Mssr. Raymond comes to Claire after she loses the first baby and heals her with his ‘magic hands’, at one point literally putting them up her vagina to heal her inflamed uterus.) The Gabaldon Length is still there, also, but I don’t really think this sort of intense story could really have been told in much shorter of a span. Anyway, as someone newly accepting of her feelings about this series, those two things are something I’ll just have to accept, because they’re not going away. Anyway, the 900 plus pages of this book flew by, and it’s even longer sequel went even faster.
Even if you really really like the history stuff, Jamie and Claire’s relationship is the real draw here (especially the Jamie part). Gabaldon just balances things really nicely in this one: the give and take of their relationship, Jamie coming to terms with Claire’s independence. The conflicts that arise between them are character based instead of feeling manufactured for drama. There’s also way less sex (although there’s still plenty), and more emotion than in Outlander. They have SO MUCH FEELS for one another, and they overcome so much, by the time you get to the end, and this happens:
“If I must endure two hundred years of purgatory, two hundred years without you – then that is my punishment, which I have earned for my crimes. For I have lied, and killed, and stolen; betrayed and broken trust. But there is the one thing that shall lie in the balance. When I shall stand before God, I shall have one thing to say, to weigh against the rest . . . Lord, ye gave me a rare woman, and God! I loved her well.”
You just want to die. The ending is heartbreaking, and it pretty much forces you to start the next book immediately. Nothing like a 1,000 page book that ends in a cliffhanger, I tell you what. Anyway, not that I’m really complaining. Like I said above, I’m in it now.
It’s been a while, but I remember feeling the same ~ Like “there’s a lot of odd stuff I’m not super happy with, but… Jaime.” It’s why I’m watching the show – Claire and Jaime and weird voiceovers aplenty – even when I’m not sure I’m quite enjoying it. Because I’m in it, too.
I’m waiting to see how the two problematic scenes in book one will be treated by the show. I’m holding out hope the show will ‘fix’ them, at least to as much a degree as is possible.
I think you hit the nail on the head with the “Gabaldon weird.” There always seems to be something, but I’m too invested in the characters to let these books go. I’m trying to wait a little bit before I begin the third book. I’m not sure how successful I’ll be.
The third one was my favorite so far. You should read it soon!
Great! Something to look forward to!
One of us! One of us! I’m so glad that you liked Dragonfly in Amber which is one of my favourite books in the series, for many of the reasons you outlined in your review.
It’s important to remember that Outlander was Gabaldon’s debut novel (I certainly forget occasionally, because she’s written so many thousands of pages now), she’d never written anything before and broke pretty much all the rules with regards to plotting, genre and story conventions. It’s obvious in book 2 that she’s become a more experienced writer and the structure is amazing for keeping you coming back for more. It’s been so long since I first read the book, but I still remember my shock both at beginning with Claire and a grown daughter back in “present” time, not to mention the ending. I can’t imagine what I would have done if I read the books when they first came out, having to wait for the release of Voyager. It would’ve been torture.
Well, I think she was releaseing them a year apart back then, but yes. Torture.
This review is fantastic and encapsulates so well everything I felt about this book and why I liked it so much. Gabaldon is a more experienced writer and things flow better with less perils of Pauline than the other books *cough*Voyager*cough*. That conversation the carriage about what Jamie does and does not owe Claire is superb.
I also dislike it when the story crosses into the part you put in white above. The time travel is fine because it’s just the McGuffin. When it goes beyond that, my eyes roll into the back of my head and it takes me out of the story.
P.S. Mswas had to talk me out of the tree when I read the opening for Dragonfly. When Claire said Jamie had died at Culloden I almost started crying at my desk (I was reading the opening on Amazon at the time).
Did you believe that he was really dead? I didn’t, but that’s because I was totally spoiled by having read summaries from later books where he is definitely alive.
Thanks! I actually liked Voyager the best so far (with the exception of a couple of things)!
I don’t mind the weird stuff, it’s just so weird, that stuff, and it’s usually surrounded by stuff that isn’t weird at all, so it’s weirdness factor is doubled.
I like Dragonfly and Breath of Snow and Ashes best, but the last one was also great. I read all of the books (7 at the time) in a 5 week flurry and one of those weeks I took off to cool my heels. I don’t think I paid any attention to my husband or child the whole time. I took lunch breaks at work – I never take lunch breaks – so I could read in a conference room. I carried whichever one I was reading EVERYWHERE with me.
There is one more weird thing in the books that I can think of, but I can’t remember which book it is in, maybe Voyager. There’s some voodoo that’s ridicdoo.
There was definitely weird voodoo in book three, involving the murderer priest’s sister channeling people through time and stuff (and Geillis being pervy and witchy with young Ian). I was less bothered by that than the Raymond stuff in this one. The idea of that guy getting near anyone’s vagina gives me the willies.
As Malin points out, Outlander was her first novel. As Gabaldon’s writing gets more experienced, she has no problem conveying her own modern opinion through Claire.
In fact so much so, that in the last book I truly thought to myself, “Come on, there is no WAY Claire would say THAT to a bride-to-be about THAT.” and that particular moment really bugged me. Mrs. J will know of which I speak.
I know of which you speak. It was patently ridiculous as was the uninteresting portrayal of the results. There’s a reason these are great works of entertainment, but not of literature.
Well, that’s good to hear. I’d rather her err on the side of unbelievability than her not say anything at all.
We’ll chat more when you finish In My Own Heart’s Blood. ;-)
This is a wonderful review, and I enjoyed reading it immensely, even though Gabaldon is not exactly my bag. I finished reading the first book in the series, and skimmed the second one.
However, I have to quibble with your view that it’s wrong to quit reading the first book after the beating scene. I completely agree with your take on the scene itself, but I also think that if you’re not reading for school or work, it’s okay to quit a book that’s not working for you. And if the reason why it’s not working is domestic violence, then I wouldn’t tell anyone it’s a wrong decision to quit. I agree with your analysis, but not with the conclusion that one should just keep reading. Everyone sets their own limits, you know?
I just realized I neve replied to your comment. I hope this review didn’t come across as shaming people who have domestic abuse triggers. By all means, if a book makes you feel uncomfortable, you should be allowed to stop reading. My problem is when people pass judgments on books, like THIS BOOK IS HORRIBLE or THIS BOOK IS WORTHLESS SHIT just because of their own personal reaction to a scene. Basically I think readers need to be cognizant of their own issues and be able to separate those from the intention of a book. I haven’t seen anyone personally have to stop reading the book because of a trigger, but I HAVE seen multiple people who ragequit at that scene and didn’t look back and will now tell anyone who listens that these books promote domestic violence, when that simply isn’t the case. It’s really frustrating. Does that make sense?