What with the visibility of this series lately, I don’t feel that I need to do a lengthy plot recap here — anyone reading this review probably has already read Outlander, or they have a good idea of what it’s about. I’ve had the intention to read it for some time, but spurred by the TV series, I finally dug in and — wow. I completely understand the obsession.
Briefest of summaries JUST IN CASE: Claire Randall is a married woman of the 1940’s who accidentally gets transported back in time to 18th century Scotland, and for reasons of convenience — “legal protection” — finds herself in a second marriage to Jamie Fraser, the hottest piece of Scottish highlander arse in either of their respective centuries. She’s understandably conflicted, but finds herself in love and adjusting to her new life.
Reductive? Definitely. The romance between Jamie and Claire is one for the ages, but it’s certainly not the only focus of Outlander. In addition to their totally addictive love story, Gabaldon fits together a suspenseful, irreverently funny, and well-researched narrative that offers both love and critiques of the regional and period culture, a resonant emotional experience, and a detailed character piece of our heroine and her new husband. It’s evident that though both characters are pretty people, their mutual attraction is not the substantive element that keeps their love growing and their marriage intact. Among other complementary traits, for instance, Claire brings out the levity in Jamie, and he helps focus her ferocity into productive efforts instead of impotent frustration.
Literally the only thing that I didn’t love about the book, which made me knock my all-important star rating from five down to 4.5, is Diana Gabaldon’s apparent fixation on sexual violence, of which there is a LOT in the book. Both Claire and Jamie find themselves in abhorrent abusive situations, and while they’re probably documented in the interest of “historical accuracy,” the sheer number of them and the very graphic depictions of more than one situation tended –in my opinion — toward salacious plot device at the expense of authorial respect for the characters. And SPOILER …
the scene where Claire “helps” Jamie recover from his rape by Black Jack Randall was, to me, a really appalling treatment of his condition. I can’t imagine any person in real life not becoming MORE traumatized by Gabaldon’s solution via Claire’s administrations here, but what do I know?
… Anyway, the sexual violence thing is something that I am hyper-critical about in principle, so I couldn’t help but mention it. But I really did love the rest of the book and can’t wait to start Dragonfly in Amber. I am also finally caught up on the show (just in time for its six month hiatus. WHY!?!?) and fully on the Outlander train!
You hit the nail on the head for me. I really like Outlander except for all the sexual violence. I also didn’t like that spoiler scene you mentioned. I’ve only read the first two books so far, but as soon as I start reading them, I get kind of obsessive and don’t do anything else so I’m giving myself a break.
Re: that healing scene. I have read that sometimes people with PTSD have to confront their trauma as a part of their treatment. And there have even been experiments where the patient is essentially drugged before that happens (I remember an Iraq vet taking LSD, for example). I guess the theory is that the drug protects that person’s conscious mind, while the healing happens on unconscious level. So, to me that scene read more ridiculous than horrifying, because it felt like Gabaldon maybe taking these real life aspects about the treatment of psychic trauma and then added her own flavor to them, and her flavor is always as over the top as possible. She really loves her dramatics.
Hey, that’s really interesting! I had the idea in the back of my mind that it might have been based on some more “modern” (modern to Claire, anyway) experimental treatment, as you suggest, so I’m not completely shocked that may have in fact been the case. It makes sense, as an author, for Gabaldon to have a very desperate Claire trying anything in her healer’s arsenal to help Jamie. As you said, though, Gabaldon’s flair for the dramatic really did the scene a disservice here, because there was some sensuality to the prose, even as the prose was describing something pretty frankly squicky, and it just came off as very tone-deaf to me.
As much as I love this book, it does read like a first novel and feels like Gabaldon just threw in any old thing she could think of. The elements that ring true balance out any ricketiness in the plotting for me. Her writing does improve over the next books, but they are all heavy on the peril and contain incidents of the violence (sexual and otherwise) that Gabaldon seems to revel in.
I don’t know if those methods would have been known so soon after the WWII though. Shell shock had been a recognized thing since WWI, but I have no idea how they treated it back then. Aside from locking the sufferers up and practically punishing them for being cowards.
hee hee hee
The time has finally come!