"And you, my Sassenach? What were you born for? To be lady of a manor, or to sleep in the fields like a gypsy? To be a healer, or a don's wife, or an outlaw's lady?"
"I was born for you," I said simply, and held out my arms to him. (Outlander 650)Admittedly, I couldn't resist this quote. The beautiful thing about a blog post as compared to, say, an academic paper, is that you can quote simply for the sake of quoting, without heavy justification. Not that academics don't quote because they feel like it--they simply load on the justification afterwards. I do in fact have a reason for quoting this particular exchange--and it has to do with the complexity of who one is meant to be--one's vocation if you will--to which I will no doubt return when the question of Claire's doctoring becomes a narrative "big deal." But here, the question of vocation is bound to marriage, and to what kind of man Claire is meant to be joined. There is a strong sense of destiny that is very romantic, but not particularly Catholic--perhaps more pagan, or a hint of Scots Presbyterian predestination?
These lines also show Claire leaving behind a husband she chose--in the 20th Century--for one she did not choose in the same kind of conscious act of will, reversing a trope of Celtic music that is represented by such songs as "Mattie Groves" (one of the Child ballads) and "Raggle Taggle Gypsy" (which I first heard performed by the Jolly Rogues on the Irish and Celtic Music Podcast). In these songs (and many more), the woman leaves or betrays the man she has married or been forced to marry for money or status for a man with only his charms. Jamie is like those ideal men because he is less strictly "civilized" and does, in fact, have only his charms to offer.
And there is yet another question embedded here--can one be born in the future for someone who exists in the past?
The time travel post has been long in coming. I'm posting now, in part, because we're heading into the new year, and it seems appropriate. I am also posting now because I'm rereading Dragonfly in Amber, and in some ways the notion of time travel is more important to this particular novel than to Outlander--though for me, less satisfying, as it brings up more of the frustrations of the time travel motif.
If you ask "why time travel?" in reference to Outlander--which you might, considering that it could have been a perfectly satisfying historical novel without time travel--what do you get? Well, a change in genre, for starters, and a whole fan base of druid-wannabes who will be stalking stone circles all over the British isles in the hopes of finding Jamie. The kind of fan base that I belonged to in my Mists of Avalon days back in high school. But that change in genre is important, because the addition of a fantasy element suggests that there's something more to the story than meets the eye. Fantasy functions rhetorically to turn the reader's mind to difference, or to wonder.
In Outlander, the time travel difference throws into sharp relief the difference between the men--Frank and Jamie--and all they represent to Claire. If there wasn't a suave, sophisticated, worldly, experienced Frank to calmly ask whether Claire had had an affair during the war (in not so many words) and reassure her that it would be okay (whether sincerely or not), then Jamie's sexual inexperience and more physical, rough worldliness would not have a foil. The reader would only have his or her (let's just say "her," shall we?) experience of the Twentieth- and Twenty-first centuries to draw on for comparison, and with only a historical novel, neatly contained in the Eighteenth Century, would the reader make the comparison? Some might. I venture to say, though, that most wouldn't. The novel's representation of the past would reflect only on the past, and the reader would remain quite comfortably in her own present, content to believe her current circumstance preferable in everything except the lack of a 6-foot Scot with rippling muscles and flaming red hair. Oh, and a kilt. Commando.
Time travel, as the "fantasy element,"functions as a means of turning the reader's attention to the contrast between the two time periods--and it does so admirably well, for the reader who is open to it. Now, for my sister, who had regrettably read Outlander before I gave it to her for Christmas, the dilemma of whether Claire should return to Frank was a false one, given the (to her) obvious choice of Jamie. But (Catholic understanding of faithfulness, Sacrament, and marriage vows notwithstanding), the choice of 20th Century husband vs. 18th Century husband, possible only because of time travel, underscores the differences between the men who are constructed by the centuries they inhabit. And if the decks are stacked a bit against Frank, well... they just are. But they're stacked against the 20th Century as well.
Now, none of this touches what I find bothersome and irritating about time travel. And for that, because I'm being conscious of the length of my posts, you will have to wait for part 2, due after New Year's so that we can do a little time traveling ourselves. (I know, I know.)
Happy New Year, friends!
5 comments:
Of course the other thing time travel gets you that a historical novel wouldn't is Claire as a narrator. Her narrative voice, as a twentieth century woman, couldn't be duplicated by an 18th century character. Many of the features you've already pointed out in your previous posts.
One question that I keep coming back to, though, is why is she from the early 20th century and not from our time? Is it because there is still a great leap in perspective but still less of a leap in technology?
One moment that's always bugged me-- and I can't remember which book it's from, is it Dragonfly?-- is when she drops the plastic from her peanut butter and jelly sandwiches with the assertion that it won't make a bit of difference. I think I read that right after reading a book or watching a movie that was all about the butterfly effect, how little things can make a huge difference. It's interesting that Gabaldon takes an opposite tack, that even the big things can't change history.
I remember the peanut butter wrapper, though I haven't rediscovered it yet. I think it might be in Voyager. Perhaps this is what Claire has concluded after her earlier experiences with time travel? It's an interesting question, definitely. Now I will really be looking for it.
The narrative voice is an excellent point. Claire's consciousness provides a lot of the tensions. I don't always agree with Claire's perspective, as is probably clear, but she keeps the reader focused on the historical juxtaposition.
I may get into this more when the books introduce Bree in a significant way--her perspective as a child of the 60s is very different from Claire's, and much less compatible with the 18th Century. As different as 1945 is from 1745, it is closer in many ways than the 1960s or the 1980s--meaning that there's more continuity. In 1945, the way one's parents did things (albeit Claire had a progressive lifestyle raised by a bachelor uncle) would have been familiar, traditional, and one might say, patriarchal.
You'll have to say more about the butterfly effect when I post The Thing About Time Travel - Pt. 2, because I essentially discount the impact that two people can have on history. :D BUT--as you mention, the "butterfly effect" does not seem to be part of the novels' worldview.
A great point about Bree (and Roger too) and how very different her point of view is and how much harder it is for her to accommodate herself to the past. I wonder, though, how much Gabaldon intended that when she was writing the first book. Did she envision Claire's daughter showing up later to provide the contrast? I suppose it's really a point of curiosity that's not likely to be satisfied: why did Gabaldon choose to start the series in the post war period rather than in the present? Was she looking at bringing her heroine back and imagining the consequences? It's such an interesting and unexpected choice.
I think it's interesting that Gabaldon takes the stance she does. In order to write time travel fiction, I think an author must necessarily decide where they stand on the question of whether or not history can be changed by a time traveler and if it can to what degree. Certainly one can argue that Claire has a huge impact on the course of Jamie's life and the lives of the men and women she saves through her doctoring. It raises so many interesting questions.
My question about Claire's impact is--HAD Claire already impacted those lives and people before she was born? THAT's the time travel paradox, and I say--why not? :)
I suspect that Bree was not originally imagined as a contrast. But I think that the characters of Bree and Roger indicate an awareness of the "character" of a time period. The later choice to differentiate between a 1940s and a 1960s character gives a little hint of what might have motivated the author to place her time traveling character in the 1940s in the first place. A 1960s character would have been ill-prepared, and 1960s onward would have been too whiny!! Also, there are some other characters from the 1960s, including Geillis/Geillie Duncan. The 1960s "conscious" time-travelers carry too much political baggage to "fit in." It's an interesting commentary on THAT decade!!
I actually see Bree as a kind of hybrid. There's a post on her character in the back of my head!
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