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Post by crimmyj on Jun 1, 2015 13:55:25 GMT -5
I have only watched a few pieces if this show, and I refused to read them when I first came across the books because I just can't ship what Claire does on any level. So, how do you guys get around that? I remember it bothering me when reading the book for the first time, feeling like Claire was giving up on her marriage too easily. The piece that convinced me, and the book explains it better than the show had time to do, was there was no guarantee Claire would end up back in Frank's time period. Also, the time travel is a very physically wrenching experience and Claire explains her fears of dying during the experience. I felt like her choice was not just based on the two men, but it was a very pragmatic choice that reflected her characterization. She comes off even more practical in the books than the show, a result of her nomadic upbringing and personality. The author does a good job of walking the tightrope between 1) Claire/Jamie were meant to be together across time & space, and 2) Claire relies on her brain as much as her heart. Yeah the book is naturally better at explaining how traumatizing and painful (and dangerous) the time travel is. And Claire didn't just give up her marriage to Frank, but she honestly didn't think she would ever see him again. and her marriage to Jamie started off as a means for survival. Like you say...Claire is very analytical and pragmatic.
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Kiki
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Post by Kiki on Jun 2, 2015 1:16:05 GMT -5
Well the show explained it well, too. Frank gave up on Claire and left Scotland way before Jamie brought Claire back to the stones and she chose to stay.
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shoe20
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Post by shoe20 on Jun 2, 2015 13:23:35 GMT -5
From my male viewpoint, the finale was very unsettling. I've never watched such a sadistic male rape before.... My empathy for females in a similar situation was catapulted to an entirely new level. Anyone who says this series doesn't yank at your emotions simply hasn't watched it. Get me identifying with Jamie then nail his broken hand to the table and rape him... Sadistic yes, but the real torture came when Black Jack comforted him with the lavender and thoughts of Clair.... Several have commented on Clair's ease of letting her past (future) go.... Sorry, I didn't see her falling for Jamie as cheating on Frank.. She was doing the best she could to survive in an environment where women were basically chattle. (No, I didn't read the books), but the series portrayed Clair and Franks trip to Scotland as a reconnection honeymoon, after being apart for 5 yrs. She didn't purposely get teleported back in time, and spent most of the series trying to get back.. When finally confronted with the opportunity to attempt to reverse her condition, she realized how much she loved Jamie..... I say good for Clair. Frankly, I don't see how it would be possible for her to be with Frank again, after what Black Jack has done to her and Jamie... Most of you know I'm attracted to strong Female roles, and Clair certainly fills the bill. There's a level of connection and trust between her and Jamie, that she never had with Frank, and of course now the baby.... It's interesting how all the clan members are attracted to her intelligence. So now I'm in a mess with the hiatus (just like Poldark)... I DON"T WANT TO WAIT.
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Kiki
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Post by Kiki on Jun 2, 2015 15:29:50 GMT -5
From my male viewpoint, the finale was very unsettling. I've never watched such a sadistic male rape before.... My empathy for females in a similar situation was catapulted to an entirely new level. Anyone who says this series doesn't yank at your emotions simply hasn't watched it. Get me identifying with Jamie then nail his broken hand to the table and rape him... Sadistic yes, but the real torture came when Black Jack comforted him with the lavender and thoughts of Clair.... Several have commented on Clair's ease of letting her past (future) go.... Sorry, I didn't see her falling for Jamie as cheating on Frank.. She was doing the best she could to survive in an environment where women were basically chattle. (No, I didn't read the books), but the series portrayed Clair and Franks trip to Scotland as a reconnection honeymoon, after being apart for 5 yrs. She didn't purposely get teleported back in time, and spent most of the series trying to get back.. When finally confronted with the opportunity to attempt to reverse her condition, she realized how much she loved Jamie..... I say good for Clair. Frankly, I don't see how it would be possible for her to be with Frank again, after what Black Jack has done to her and Jamie... Most of you know I'm attracted to strong Female roles, and Clair certainly fills the bill. There's a level of connection and trust between her and Jamie, that she never had with Frank, and of course now the baby.... It's interesting how all the clan members are attracted to her intelligence. So now I'm in a mess with the hiatus (just like Poldark)... I DON"T WANT TO WAIT. Read the book while waiting
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gclm
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I'm so mad I'm getting old it makes me reckless
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Post by gclm on Jun 5, 2015 11:31:46 GMT -5
The finale was intense! I hate Jack Randall!!!! Poor Jamie! When he start to speak with Claire... God! It was a big thing! I really want to read the books! I don't have them yet but I will read them
So Claire and Frank will be together again? Like Shoe said I don't see how she can be with him again!?
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Kiki
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Post by Kiki on Jun 5, 2015 15:04:18 GMT -5
If they will stay true to the books she will see and be with Frank again but not because she wants it
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Kiki
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Post by Kiki on Jun 7, 2015 4:26:46 GMT -5
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Kiki
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Post by Kiki on Jun 7, 2015 6:01:32 GMT -5
I was on holiday and couldn't post much last week but I want to explain why I was a little disappointed about the finale. Not because it wasn't good. It was AMAZING but I missed a few scenes from the books I was looking forward to watch. Thought I'd post some here... The storyline was changed. In the books they rescued Jamie and brought him to MacRannoch's place called Eldridge Mannor. (That was the guy who recognized the pearls Claire offered him for his help). At Eldridge Mannor Claire took care of Jamie's injuries and believe it or not they were far worse than in the TV show. Black Jack had flogged his back once more and Jamie had some broken rips and lost a lot of blood so he was very weak.
When Claire took care of the broken bones in his hand she wanted to give him Laudanum to make him sleep during the surgery but Jamie refused because he wanted to be awake in case the English soldiers came to capture him again. He wanted to be able to kill himself before they could bring him back to the prison. Claire didn't agree and asked him who he think he was, John Wayne maybe. In the end she agreed and did the surgery without the Laudanum. And later this scene happened which is one of my all time favourite because it shows that Jamie is not only her herohusband who protects his damsel in distress but he is also weak and need Claire to be his rock...
There were things I should ask, necessary from the medical point of view, but rather touchy from the personal aspect. Finally, I settled for “How do you feel?”
His eyes were closed, shadowed and sunken in the candlelight, but the lines of the broad back were tense under the bandages. The wide, bruised mouth twitched, somewhere between a smile and a grimace.
“I don’t know, Sassenach. I’ve never felt like this. I seem to want to do a number of things, all at once, but my mind’s at war wi’ me, and my body’s turned traitor. I want to get out of here at once, and run as fast and as far as I can. I want to hit someone. God, I want to hit someone! I want to burn Wentworth Prison to the ground. I want to sleep.”
“Stone doesn’t burn,” I said practically. “Maybe you’d better sleep, instead.”
His good hand groped for mine and found it, and the mouth relaxed somewhat, though his eyes stayed closed.
“I want to hold you hard to me and kiss you, and never let you go. I want to take you to my bed and use you like a whore, ’til I forget that I exist. And I want to put my head in your lap and weep like a child.”
The mouth turned up at one corner, and a blue eye opened slitwise.
“Unfortunately,” he said, “I can’t do any but the last of those without fainting or being sick again.”
“Well, then, I suppose you’ll just have to settle for that, and put the rest under the heading of future business,” I said, laughing a little.
It took a bit of shifting, and he nearly was sick again, but at last I was seated on his cot, my back against the wall, and his head resting on my thigh.
“What was it Sir Marcus cut from your breast?” I asked. “A brand?” I said softly, as he gave me no reply. The bright head moved slightly in affirmation.
“A signet, with his initials.” Jamie laughed shortly. “It’s enough I’ll carry his marks for the rest of my life, without letting him sign me, like a bloody painting.” His head lay heavy on my thigh and his breathing eased at last in drowsy exhalations. The white bandages on his hand were ghostly against the dark blanket. I gently traced a burn mark on his shoulder, gleaming faintly with sweet oil.
“Jamie?”
“Mmm?”
“Are you badly hurt?” Awake, he glanced from his bandaged hand to my face. His eyes closed and he began to shake. Alarmed, I thought I had triggered some unbearable memory, until I realized that he was laughing, hard enough to force tears from the corners of his eyes.
“Sassenach,” he said at length, gasping, “I’ve maybe six square inches of skin left that are not bruised, burned, or cut. Am I hurt?” And he shook again, making the felted mattress rustle and squeak.
Somewhat crossly, I said, “I meant—” but he stopped me by putting his good hand over mine and bringing it to his lips.
“I know what ye meant, Sassenach,” he said, turning his head to look up at me. “Never worry, the six inches that are left are all between my legs.”
I appreciated the effort it took to make the joke, feeble as it was. I slapped his mouth lightly. “You’re drunk, James Fraser,” I said. I paused a moment. “Six, eh?”
“Aye, well. Maybe seven, then. Oh, God, Sassenach, dinna make me laugh again, my ribs won’t stand it.” I wiped his eyes with a fold of my skirt and fed him a sip of water, holding his head up with my knee.
“That isn’t what I meant, anyway,” I said.
Serious then, he reached for my hand again and squeezed it.
“I know,” he said. “Ye needna be delicate about it.” He drew a cautious breath, and winced at the results. “I was right, it did hurt less than flogging.” He closed his eyes. “But it was much less enjoyable.” A quick flash of bitter humor stirred one corner of his mouth. “At least I’ll not be costive for a bit.” I flinched, and he gritted his teeth, breathing in short, reedy gasps.
“I’m sorry, Sassenach. I…didna think I’d mind it so much. What you mean—that—it’s all right. I’m not damaged.”
I made an effort to keep my own voice steady and matter-of-fact. “You don’t have to tell me about it, if you don’t want to. If it might ease you, though…” My voice trailed off in embarrassed silence.
“I don’t want to.” His voice was suddenly bitter and emphatic. “I don’t want ever to think about it again, but short of cutting my throat, I think I have not got a choice about it. Nay, lass, I dinna want to tell ye about it, any more than ye want to hear it…but I think I am going to have to drag it all out before it chokes me.” The words came out now in a burst of bitterness.
“He wanted me to crawl and beg, and by Christ, I did so. I told ye once, Sassenach, ye can break anyone if you’re willing to hurt them enough. Well, he was willing. He made me crawl, and he made me beg; he made me do worse things than that, and before the end he made me want verra badly to be dead.” He was silent for a long moment, looking into the fire, then heaved a deep sigh, grimacing at the pain.
“I wish ye could ease me, Sassenach, I do wish it most fervently, for I’ve little of ease in me now. But it’s not like a poisoned thorn, where if ye found the right grip, ye could draw it clean out.” His good hand rested on my knee. He flexed the fingers and spread them flat, ruddy in the firelight. “It’s not even like a brokenness anywhere. If ye could mend it bit by bit, like ye did my hand, I’d stand the pain gladly.” He bunched the fingers into a fist and rested it on my leg, frowning at it.
“It’s…difficult to explain. It’s…it’s like…I think it’s as though everyone has a small place inside themselves, maybe, a private bit that they keep to themselves. It’s like a little fortress, where the most private part of you lives—maybe it’s your soul, maybe just that bit that makes you yourself and not anyone else.” His tongue probed his swollen lip unconsciously as he thought.
“You don’t show that bit of yourself to anyone, usually, unless sometimes to someone that ye love greatly.” The hand relaxed, curling around my knee. Jamie’s eyes were closed again, lids sealed against the light.
“Now, it’s like…like my own fortress has been blown up with gunpowder—there’s nothing left of it but ashes and a smoking rooftree, and the little naked thing that lived there once is out in the open, squeaking and whimpering in fear, tryin’ to hide itself under a blade of grass or a bit o’ leaf, but…but not…makin’ m-much of a job of it.” His voice broke, and he turned his head so that his face was hidden in my skirt. Helpless, I could do nothing but stroke his hair. He suddenly raised his head, face strained as though it would break apart along the seams of the bones. “I’ve been close to death a few times, Claire, but I’ve never really wanted to die. This time I did. I…” His voice cracked and he stopped speaking, clutching my knee hard. When he spoke again, his voice was high and oddly breathless, as though he had been running a long way.
“Claire, will you—I just—Claire, hold on to me. If I start to shake again now, I canna stop it. Claire, hold me!” He was in fact beginning to tremble violently, the shivering making him moan as it caught the splintered ribs. I was afraid to hurt him, but more afraid to let the shaking go on.
I crouched over him, wrapped my arms around his shoulders and held on as tightly as I could, rocking to and fro as though the comforting rhythm might break the racking spasms. I got one hand on the back of his neck and dug my fingers deep into the pillared muscles, willing the clenching to relax as I massaged the deep groove at the base of the skull. Finally the trembling eased, and his head fell forward onto my thigh, exhausted.
“I’m sorry,” he said a minute later, in his normal voice. “I didna mean to go on so. The truth is I do hurt verra bad, and I am most awfully damn drunk. I’m no in much control of mysel’.” For a Scot to admit, even privately, to being drunk, was some indication, I thought, of just how badly he did hurt.
“You need sleep,” I said softly, still rubbing the back of his neck. “You need it badly.” I used my fingers as best I could, gentling and pressing as Old Alec had showed me, and managed to ease him back into drowsiness.
“I’m cold,” he murmured. There was a good fire, and several blankets on the bed, but his fingers were chilly to the touch.
“You’re in shock,” I said practically. “You’ve lost the hell of a lot of blood.” I looked around, but MacRannochs and servants alike had all disappeared to their own beds. Murtagh, I assumed, was still out in the snow, keeping an eye out in the direction of Wentworth in case of pursuit. With a mental shrug for anyone’s opinion of the proprieties, I stood up, stripped off the nightdress, and crawled under the blankets.
As gently as possible, I eased against him, giving him my warmth. He turned his face into my shoulder like a small boy. I stroked his hair, gentling him, rubbing the ridged columns of muscle at the back of his neck, avoiding the raw places. “Lay your head, then, man,” I said, remembering Jenny and her boy.
Jamie gave a small grunt of amusement. “That’s what my mother used to say to me,” he murmured. “When I was a bairn.”
“Sassenach,” he said against my shoulder, a moment later.
“Mm?”
“Who in God’s name is John Wayne?”
“You are,” I said. “Go to sleep.”For me this was the most perfect scene in the whole book. This is what the whole rape thing was all about. This changed Claire and Jamie's relationship forever. She is no longer the weak damsel in distress who he has to protect. They both protect each other from now on. After this night in Eldridge Mannor they left for the monastery in France and Jamie's seasickness was a much bigger topic than it was in the TV show. He had broken rips and he was VERY seasick. He was weak already and the seasickness made Claire worry about how long his heart could take it. Also the vomiting could cause the broken rips to injure his lungs so they had to give him the Laudanum and make him fall asleep after all. Jamie's seasickness stays a topic through out all the books. It becomes a real problem later on... I remember a fun scene at the monastery but I will post later. Need to find it in the book
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Kiki
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Post by Kiki on Jun 7, 2015 15:33:42 GMT -5
ok here is the funny scene
After lunch I went to check on my recalcitrant patient. Instead of Jamie, though, I found Murtagh, sitting on a stool tilted back against the wall, wearing a bemused expression.
“Where is he?” I said, looking blankly around the room.
Murtagh jerked a thumb toward the window. It was a cold, dark day, and the lamps were lit. The window was uncovered and the chilly draft set the little flame fluttering in its dish.
“He went out?” I asked incredulously. “Where? Why? And what on earth is he wearing?” Jamie had remained largely naked over the last several days, since the room was warm and any pressure on his healing wounds was painful. He had worn a monk’s outer robe when leaving his room on necessary short excursions, with the support of Brother Roger, but the robe was still present, neatly folded at the foot of the bed.
Murtagh rocked his stool forward and regarded me owlishly.
“How many questions is that? Four?” He held up one hand, index finger pointing up.
“One: aye, he went out.” The middle finger rose. “Two: Where? Damned if I know.” The fourth finger joined its companions. “Three: Why? He said he was tired of bein’ cooped up indoors.” The little finger waggled briefly. “Four: Also damned if I know. He wasna wearin’ anything at all last time I saw him.”
Murtagh folded all four fingers and stuck out his thumb.
“Ye didna ask me, but he’s been gone an hour or so.”
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Kiki
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Post by Kiki on Jun 8, 2015 9:59:58 GMT -5
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shoe20
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Post by shoe20 on Jun 8, 2015 12:11:33 GMT -5
Kiki, thanks for posting the excerpt from the book.... Although the show did a good job with the finale, this was much more in depth, and a better glimpse of what was going through their minds.... My favorite line in the finale was.... (jamie) Claire, how can you have me like this...(claire) I'll have you anyway I can... I really hope Sam gets awards for this performance, he deserves them.
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Kiki
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Post by Kiki on Jun 10, 2015 9:19:10 GMT -5
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shoe20
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Post by shoe20 on Jun 11, 2015 15:08:59 GMT -5
Kiki, that was a great video....
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Kiki
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Post by Kiki on Jun 11, 2015 23:07:43 GMT -5
Kiki, that was a great video.... The one more above seems to be similar or even the same but 22 min long
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Kiki
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Post by Kiki on Jun 14, 2015 5:45:29 GMT -5
Poor boy. First Gaelic now French
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