Voyager: A Faith in Documents (A Literacy Moment)

Perhaps this will be easier if I just say it--this has been a hard post.  It has been a hard post to think about, a hard post to write, and mostly a hard post to think about writing.  And I think that's because there's a lot going on in Voyager Ch. 7, and it all begs to be analyzed.  So I guess I'll just begin at the beginning and stretch this out a little bit more...

First of all, Chapter 7 announces its literacy theme in its title:  "A Faith in Documents."  One of the reasons that Voyager feels preoccupied with literacy is because at the beginning, in 1960s Scotland, the action centers on finding what happened to the historical Jamie Fraser.  Roger Wakefield, being a historian like Frank Randall, knows and follows all of the usual channels.  It is Roger who possesses the unflappable "faith in documents."  Brianna mostly has faith in Jamie (having accepted him), and Claire has very, very little.  But that's all part of the narrative moment.

The chapter is replete with reading material.  First a letter:

He picked up the thick manila envelope and held it for a moment, weighing it. Then he ripped the flap recklessly with his thumb, and yanked out a sheaf of photocopied pages.
     The cover letter, on heavy university stationery, fluttered out. (95)

Which Claire reads:

“‘ Dear Dr. Wakefield,’” I read. “‘ This is in reply to your inquiry regarding the execution of Jacobite officers by the Duke of Cumberland’s troops following the Battle of Culloden. The main source of the quote in my book to which you refer, was the private journal of one Lord Melton, in command of an infantry regiment under Cumberland at the time of Culloden. I have enclosed photocopies of the relevant pages of the journal; as you will see, the story of the survivor, one James Fraser, is an odd and touching one. Fraser is not an important historical character, and not in line with the thrust of my own work, but I have often thought of investigating further, in hopes of determining his eventual fate. Should you find that he did survive the journey to his own estate, I should be happy if you would inform me. I have always rather hoped that he did, though his situation as described by Melton makes the possibility seem unlikely. Sincerely yours, Eric Linklater.’”
     The paper rattled in my hand, and I set it down, very carefully, on the desk.

This is interesting for a couple of reasons.  First, it is evidence of the community of scholars and researchers who are linked together by common pursuit and willing to help one another.  Dr. Linklater is a very collegial sort, in the true academic sense of the word.

Second, it illustrates the research process, and highlights the use of primary sources to answer questions.  It is not simply enough to read books by historians, because historians necessarily write with a filter of what seems most significant to the story they wish to tell.  In this case, Jamie Fraser was not historically significant.  What is interesting about this is that the member of the Fraser regiment who survived Culloden was actually, in real-world-outside-of-the-novel history, important enough to make it into historical accounts just by virtue of having been a survivor (see "Massacre of Wounded Officers" on this page for the "remarkable escape of one of their number, Alexander or John Fraser, commonly called MacIver").  Roger contacts Dr. Linklater after reading the book that Linklater wrote about Culloden in order to find out whether the sources he used in his book gave any account of Jamie Fraser.  And as it turns out, they did.

The third thing that strikes me as interesting might simply strike me as interesting--from the perspective of a would-be or had-been humanities scholar.  Since most scholarly activity in the humanities deals with perceptions--how we understand the events at Culloden, how those events were recorded, how what was left out of the accounts has shaped our understanding, and what happens when we add those left out bits back in... You know, exactly what the documentaries do with the Bible.  That's a prime popular culture example:  The Gospel of Judas; The Gospel of Mary Magdalen; The Gnostic Gospels; why they were left out, by whom, and what they might mean if we integrate them into the canon. At any rate, because scholarly activity deals so much in perception, humanities scholars spend their lives arguing that perceptions are real, and the other part of their lives feeling self-conscious that their work has little real meaning or influence ("poetry changes nothing" vs. poets as the "unacknowledged legislators").  Here, in Voyager, scholarly activity has real meaning.  The work that Roger is doing--the information he is uncovering--will shape not only the perception of the past held by a handful of people (and notably Claire); it has the potential to shape the past itself (well, maybe.  See my posts on time travel for a sense of just how complex that question is...)  Claire's decision whether to return to the past hinges on what Roger can find out about the fate of Jamie Fraser.  It is perhaps an enviable position for a humanities scholar--to know he is significant.

Gabaldon, Diana (2004-10-26). Voyager (Outlander). Random House, Inc.. Kindle Edition.