Cranelander
This episode did things a little bit differently off the top. Usually, the main titles are buttoned with a shot of something related to the episode or which features therein, and then we fade to black after the director's card and go about our merry way. But this time, we open on a book of birds, the pages being turned slowly. We land on a crane, which is mostly considered a happy, lucky, or fertile symbol, which COULD NOT BE MORE OPPOSITE to what transpires in this hour...
Kidlander
... and pan up and right into the episode. It's 1954, we're in Boston, and Claire is reading with her and Jamie's child. The daughter is fascinated by the crane, and Claire wistfully reminisces that she saw one once in Scotland. Her daughter is in awe that Claire was ever in Scotland looking at cranes, and so am I, as the Internet tells me they went extinct there 500 years ago -- which came up because in 2013 apparently they bred there anew for the first time since then. I mean, I guess she could have seen a crane passing overhead on its way to... I don't know. Wales. Don't sleep on Wales, y'all. For a long time, Ireland was the dreamy alternative to the UK, and now Scotland is being romanticized; Wales wants its TURN, yo.
Bereftlander
Cut to Claire in Paris, lying numbly on the table as Mother Hildegarde and her merry band of weirdos try to save Claire and the baby. I will spare you the ghastly overhead shot of Claire, legs spread open, oozing blood as they reach inside her with gauze. It wasn't as graphic as that makes it sound, but it was certainly traumatic. That's the part where you realize you're going to watch this episode and feel like your insides have been whipped with your iPhone charger.
Gastonlander
Also, M. Executioner sees fit to make as cartoonish a face as he can. In case you thought, "Well, but Claire is tired, maybe things are going better than they look." No. Things are going about this well. Things are going as well as when you try to toast a baguette by putting it atop a row of LED tea lights.
Bedlander
And then poor Claire wakes up alone, in the nicest bed in the entire hospital -- seriously, it's like they dashed out and robbed some aristocrat's child of her resting place -- and wonders aloud where everyone is, up to and including the child that once lived in her belly. I can't believe they let her wake up alone, but I guess that's my modern sensibility talking. Mother Hildegarde has like four employees, and one of them is a dog, albeit A Dog Who Knows Too Much. The dog does end up standing guard later, but I feel like she needed some company when she awoke, even of the canine variety.
Shocklander
Claire is at first desperate and disbelieving, then devastated, and her frenzy of grief -- screaming, fevered -- is really wrenching to behold. You will think, "It cannot get sadder than this." You will be wrong. Soon you will know the sensation of putting your face through a laminator.
She also, essentially, flips a switch on Jamie in her heart. Even just briefly. Mother Hildegarde tells Claire that he is in the Bastille and that Randall isn't dead, so she's momentarily assured of Frank's existence, but she is still seething from the perceived betrayal. Caitriona Balfe is really wonderful in what will be her Emmy episode; she plays just about every shade of anguish.
Raylander
It turns out some of Claire's fever was, indeed, an actual fever. Her placenta hadn't fully passed, I guess? And Master Raymond is nothing if not attuned to the womb and birth canal of his Madonna -- who, by the way, was present in statue form but shattered on the ground during Claire's paroxysms of anguish. Anyway, Ray shows up and uses fancy French Reiki or whatever; when his hands are over her, Raymond asks what she sees, and Claire responds, "Blue wings." He explains that blue is the color of healing and that the wings will fly her pain away, and he proceeds to push the fever down, down, down, and then... there is no delicate way to say this... without washing anything first, he jams his hand up her Lady Seine and grabs the trapped afterbirth and rips it out of her.
We don't see what he does with it; I decided to assume he disposed of it neatly in a nearby receptacle, though it's just as likely he put it in a small jar and pocketed it for later use and/or an age-defying snack. Regardless, when he pops back into frame, his hands are completely clean once more. MAGIC.
While Raymond is elbow-deep in Claire, he orders her to yell out Jamie's name. She does, just as he scoops free the placenta. It's a very interesting, and eerie, parallel to sex. Claire can't believe he risked being caught for her, and without his wig no less, but Ray says this is just what you do for your friends. Jessica, mark me: I will never, ever ask you to rip out my placenta. CERTAINLY not without a wig.
Mourninglander
Fergus helps Claire out of her carriage and back into the house, as the staff is clearly gutted at the sight of her. The maid, in fact, weeps all over Claire; the butler guy keeps a stiffer upper lip, but is obviously stricken. Claire thanks him, achingly broken, and shuffles inside. He's the only person she really quite makes eye contact with, and seeing everyone so heartsick is YET AGAIN super upsetting. This episode has plunged in the knife, and is now twisting it ruthlessly. But it's not done. OH NO.
Artlander
Fergus sweetly, silently, brushes Claire's hair. It's extremely touching. You can tell he doesn't know what else to do, and he just wants to be near her, helping. Also, this shot is stunning. Once again, it's basically art -- Portrait of a Young Boy Wondering If Milady Would Like Some Detangler Sometime, But She Wants Him To Cram It Because She's Waiting For Sirius Black To Appear In The Fireplace.
Robelander
O GLORIOUS NIGHTCLOTHES.
The next scene yielded only dark and grainy caps, so I didn't use any, but: Claire hears Fergus crying out in his sleep. He wakes up from his nightmare and confesses to her what happened at Madame Elise's, and it is as awful as we feared: Randall found Fergus in his room and said, "You're not what I ordered... but you'll do," and flipped him over and raped him on the bed. I can't entirely believe this happened on-screen on ANY level. Tobias Menzies needs a special award for having to say and do things on-screen that are wickedly appalling. And I'm not sure how you ask that of a child actor, either. This scene must have been.... just when you think maybe he hasn't actually done anything, you see him thrusting. Oh, it's THE WORST. It's a vile act that I cannot quite believe they staged, although they clearly tried to be as tasteful as they could without being vague.
And I know all these rapes happened in the books, but man, is there some kind of contest on cable to see who can get the rapiest? Is rape the only way Outlander -- books or series -- can think of to move a plot in any which direction? They may need to look long and hard at whether the plot could be propelled another way, because for people who've experience it in real life, rape is not just a plot twist. It's not just a means to an end. And so TV has to be really careful not to use it that way. Mary Hawkins, for example: We seem to have dispatched with her because her rape did what it needed to, but what of the aftermath? Is Outlander truly trying to suggest that we aren't supposed to worry about that, and will it be the same with Fergus? Much of the Paris stuff has felt like that -- an artless rush past mile markers -- but an act as serious as rape, especially if they insist on using it over and over again, shouldn't be glossed over that way.
Reactionlander
Okay, that other slide was getting way too long already, so I'm forced to throw in this really lackluster screencap of Claire reacting to Fergus's story. ONWARD WITH THE TEXT:
Fergus says he tried not to cry out but he simply couldn't help it, and that's what brought Jamie to his aid. Ergo, Fergus, tragically, blames HIMSELF for everything that ensued. Claire scoops him up in her arms and tells him it's absolutely NOT his fault, but can't offer more than a hollow, "It will be okay," because you can tell she isn't super committed to whether that's true.
This was... a real wringer. This was the show taking the knife it had already plunged in your gut and twisted, and using it to carve Jack Randall's name into your neck. And we're basically only just halfway into this thing. I am not sure I have anything left to give, Outlander. You have taken most of my internal organs and turned them into a smoothie.
Favorlander
Claire realizes she needs to get Jamie out of the Bastille, so she goes to Mother Hildegarde -- conveniently, Hildy is well-connected -- and asks her to grant an audience with the King. Mother Hildegarde notes that Louis will most likely expect a sexual favor in return, and Claire considers this before noting that she's willing to pay with her body. "Add that to the things I've lost in Paris," she says, numbly. And it's sad but it's also SO MELODRAMATIC of her. It feels like a teenage flounce. It actually reminds me of the pilot of Grosse Pointe, the old WB show that was behind the scenes of an over-the-top 90210-type soap, in which the Donna Martin character had a miscarriage and her response to the news was to weep, "Ugh! I lose EVERYTHING!" Seriously, Claire, can we show a little more concern for Fergus? He needs more than one hug.
Versailleslander
So Claire is led deep into Versailles, through rooms that would make the Downton library blush with inadequacy.
Artlander
It is here that she explains Jamie was provoked into the duel and that she wishes to negotiate for his release. This is another absolutely gorgeous shot that would look perfect hanging in a museum. Woman Unable To Feign Interest In King's Loins When He Looks Elsewhere.
Capelander
Also, Claire's dress is typically gorgeous -- that color is heaven to me, and I love the drape in the back. Dark green is associated with money, and green in general with both safety and fertility, making this choice fairly poignant as she is using her body as currency for Jamie's safety. Hopefully the fertility thing does not play a role. I'm guessing that since the kid in 1954 has a shock of carrot-colored hair, she is Jamie's through and through.
Laserlander
So, Louis leads Claire into his personal planetarium and dazzles her with a laser light show. I assume it's set to Aerosmith.
We've been told before that Louis doesn't like the Dark Arts, and so he calls on Claire in her role as La Dame Blanche to adjudicate a little something for him, and no, it's not about whether the Big Dipper is threatening his manhood. This scene has a total WTF quality to it for me. Like, why are we in the foyer of some Disney ride about space instead of with Fergus? We actually CARE about Fergus. And Fergus just got savaged. I know Claire is trying to rescue Jamie, and the books dictate that she must prostrate herself in order to achieve it, but. BUT. Sigh.
Courtlander
The court of King Louis, it seems, has several meanings. Here it means a trial, and out come Master Raymond -- wig in place, as we would all hope would happen when it's our time -- and Le Comte St. Germain, both busted for dabbling in sorcery. St. Germain sputters that Claire is a witch herself, as she has survived ingesting poison -- which he knows because he gave it to her himself. Funny how trying to murder a woman is less worrisome to Louis than whether they're using mythical bones to tell the future. His face, when he hears of the poisoning, is as animated as if you told somebody that the dishwasher needed unloading.
Claire, aware that the king wants theatrics, plays up her role as La Dame Blanche -- which, she points out gleefully to St. Germain, means she's safe because she practices non-dark witchcraft and therefore walks in the light. She then has to look like she's being legit, so she tells Louis that both men have darkness in them but that if they can survive a poison of her making, they will be proven worthy. She waltzes over to the confiscated stash of the men and mixes bitter cascara with some other stuff to simulate poisoning but not kill -- which, by the way, why wouldn't St. Germain KNOW this about bitter cascara, if he gave it to Claire himself? How can he be surprised that she lived? ** A helpful commenter points out that Raymond tricks people who want poison by selling them bitter cascara instead. So Le Comte thought he was getting real poison when he gave Claire the cascara. Thank you!
Deathlander
Raymond drinks it first and doubles over in anguish, but does not die. When he returns to his feet and hands the vial back to Claire, her necklace turns black -- indicating the presence of poison. St. Germain sees it and goes pale, realizing he is about to die, and Claire understands that Raymond used sleight of hand to taint the fluid with ACTUAL poison while he was hunched over and gasping for air. She also can't change course, even though she was trying to save both men, so she just hands St. Germain the poison and tries to look cool.
Madlander
St. Germain is peeved.
Interestingly, Louis doesn't seem to care about any of the backstory here -- the poisoning, the men Claire mentions who attacked her (that birthmark still hasn't paid off... is that a smoking gun left forgotten, or yet to go off?), the fellating of Satan -- and is just real curious whether St. Germain will keel over and die. Which... he does. He so totally does. He drinks to his own doom and then the life violently leaves him as he face-plants on the floor and drools his last. But at least his parting words to Claire were tender.
AND THAT'S A WRAP ON LE COMTE. Again: Why? This would have been GREAT if he had existed as a fleshed-out villain, or compelling character, but he just popped up as a weird, instantaneously menacing inconvenience and then popped off this mortal coil. I like Raymond just fine, so I'm happy he's not dead, but I would have been just as content for him never to have been caught in the first place. I didn't need to spend all this time on Claire accidentally vanquishing someone who was a decent potential foil for her, had he been given the space to be such.
Transaction Completelander
And just when we thought that was all Louis wanted of Claire, he leads her back into his bedroom, lays her down, and takes her. She boredly glances at the sky and, in voice over, says, "I lay back and thought of England." They play her as underwhelmed by his performance, and he basically just treats her like a very handy tube in which to squeeze his sausage. It is perfunctory, transactional, like putting a period at the end of a sentence. When he finishes, he gestures for her to toddle off, and she does.
And obviously I wish this hadn't happened. I hate it. Because it's rape of another sort. It's a power play. Consent here seems like it's in Claire's hands, because she knew the price of Jamie's freedom, but that's not really true consent. That's emotional blackmail. The longer you watch, the more you realize Outlander is impossible to judge by standards of today's morality. I wish Claire hadn't sold herself for anything. I wish Claire had marched in there and told King Louis to stuff himself and that her vagina was not a credit-card machine. But she basically couldn't do that. The times, and the law, were not on her side. She'd have gotten them BOTH killed, and god knows who else besides. Claire feels as if she has NO other avenues to save Jamie, who is in trouble for trying to defend a child against a depraved monster of a man, and so she taps into her fortitude. To her credit, she divorces herself from the act and does not let it break her, nor infect her. Or at least tries not to. Regardless, while it's gross and disappointing and I sometimes think, "Well, they/Gabaldon just wanted to titillate," on the other hand Claire is sitting in a historical box that is not of her design. She has to work within its walls.
Having said all THAT... I mean, Jamie has been raped. Claire was nearly raped in Scotland and avoided a rape here on the night Mary Hawkins was not so fortunate. Fergus was raped. And now, here, Claire may have made the deal, but it was a violation all the same. I'll say it again: Rape, and its attendant sexual politics, should not be any medium's plot crutch.
Confrontationlander
Claire, dressed partly in blue -- the color of healing, Raymond established for us -- confronts Jamie when he comes home from the Bastille, and it's quite agonizing. Because obviously. There canna be a moment that doesn't hurt this week. She emptily tells him their baby was a girl, and that Mother Hildegarde went against the law and quietly baptized the dead baby -- she chose Faith as the name -- before burying her.
Beardlander
And Jamie's all, "But do you like my chin merkin?"
Louiselander
Louise gets to wear another stunner as Claire remembers something we haven't seen yet: Mother Hildegarde letting her hold the dead baby, "so [she] wouldn't have to wonder." It's... awful. I mean, they used a doll, clearly, which makes it a bit easier, but dolls are inherently creepy to me so it's actually just a different kind of awful. Claire lights up and starts singing to her, and kissing her forehead, and then it's revealed that she held her for hours. You can see the joy on her face as Claire creates the illusion that her baby is alive. Watching scenes like this... I am not someone who cries easily. I am the only person I know who is unmoved by Hamilton. And yet this, and the scene on [HOW TO GET AWAY WITH MURDER spoiler, I guess?] HTGAWM with Annalise and her baby, were really gut-wrenching for me. Having to say goodbye to a life before it starts, before you can even be sure it knew it was loved, is just... goodbyes are hard no matter what, but UGLY SNIFFLES is what I'm saying. That old knife, the one that's maimed us throughout the hour, is now basically merrily sawing away at all our extremities. Slowly.
Louise, in an interesting bit of blocking, cups her own pregnant belly and strokes it before approaching Claire -- whose eyes, it is no accident, fall first on Louise's bump and then travel to her face. Louise gently pierces the delusion and takes the baby from Claire as Claire completely falls apart.
Beardlander
"So... yeh DON'T like the chin merkin, then."
Angrylander
We get more flashes of memory from Claire here as she tries to explain to Jamie everything she went through. I think she's trying to convey to him what a wringer it was -- horrible, lonely, terrifying, terrible -- and I can't tell if we're meant to think she's laying out for him verbally all the things we're seeing, but I think it's implied. That, or he can essentially see it flash across her face. She does tell him that Fergus told her the truth about why he broke their pact, but admits there were moments before then -- in the forest, during her loss -- where she hated him. And she says it with a chill that could freeze a thousand Tattooines.
Beardlander
"I canna ken what I was thinking. Perhaps if I gave her the merkin to replace the tender forest she waxed away."
Recoverylander
But then Claire tells Jamie that she blames herself. She asked for the impossible sacrifice, she placed Frank above their family, she went to the forest (which I think she's faulting herself for because she, and she alone, knew she'd been bleeding and cramping a bit already). She says this is no one's fault but her own. Jamie lovingly tells her that Frank is her family, too -- which I thought was an extremely mature thing for Jamie to admit, and I liked him for it -- but he doesn't tell her that none of this is her fault, which seems... unfair. Even if he doesn't believe it, he should try to unburden her.
Also, weirdly, after Jamie first mentions defending Fergus's honor, Claire never totally agrees that, yes, Jamie pretty much HAD to call the duel or else let it seem acceptable that Black Jack raped his juvenile charge. The same crime he committed against Jamie. And again, obviously, dueling is stupid by current standards, and even maybe by 18th century standards, but it was an older time and life and death were treated differently then. Matters of honor and revenge were spoken of in a different physical language than we use now. So I am kinda like, "YES, Jamie, duel the shitface. CLAIRE DON'T YOU SEE???"
ANYHOO: Jamie tells Claire that she once forgave him -- he's speaking of when Black Jack finally claimed him; there was a weird and controversial element of Black Jack having broken him so badly that Jamie was deluded into wanting it by the end, because he was hallucinating Claire -- and that he had already forgiven her anything she could ever do in any lifetime, in any era.
Beardlander
Claire then challenges this assertion by admitting she slept with Louis to secure Jamie's freedom. She does so without remorse; just says it factually. And hollowly. And Jamie basically swallows hard and then says that he gave himself to Black Jack to save Claire -- my memory is fuzzy on that one; is that true? I thought he'd been captured? -- and so he sees this as no different. He then bends down and tells her that while they'll never be the same, they do have to heal together, and also rip off his merkin at the earliest convenience. Claire sniffles and asks to go back home to Scotland, and Jamie joyfully agrees. WHAT ABOUT MURTAGH. You sent him off to Portugal on a wine-selling errand! You cannot ditch Murtagh IN FRANCE! He's too old for this shit!
Forgivenesslander
First, though, Jamie visits Faith's grave and puts one of the apostle spoons on it: St. Andrew, because this way, he says, if she's stuck buried in Paris she at least has a Scot to guide her. (He places it ON the stone, though, so I hate to break it to him but that thing is getting stolen immediately.) Claire, in a ridiculously good dress and dramatic mourning veil, kneels down next to him. And then, she takes his hand. And I am basically nothing anymore except one last quivering spleen, because Outlander has drawn and quartered me this hour.