Outlander 2.05: “Untimely Resurrection”

Previously: the dinner party of the year.

Over the title card, we have a gorgeous dappled grey house being tacked up – a groom puts saddlecloth on the horse’s back, but doesn’t pull the reins out from under it, and that’s bad form. You work for the King, for fuck’s sake. Shape up.

Post dinner party – the guest have left, and the servants are cleaning up the debris and putting out the candles rather roughly. The ticking of the clock is loud and annoying, and Claire voiceovers that the gens d’armes (Yeah, I took French for three years, and it didn’t hit me that “Gendarme” was derived from gen d’arme or man at arms and French is fun!) took Jamie, Murtagh, and Alex away. Claire stands at the window, waiting.

Later, Jamie comes in in finds Claire in her robe, sitting on the couch. She sat up all night long, and Fergus stayed with her – he’d just fallen asleep. Jamie kisses Claire’s hand, and picks up Fergus to take him to bed. “You did well, guarding your mistress.”

In the bedroom, Jamie peels off his coat and tells Claire that Duverney was the one to get Jamie and Murtagh out. He asks if Claire is all right, and she says that “we’re fine,” caressing her belly. Alex is still in the Bastille – Mary’s uncle says that he saw Alex attack Mary, and in order to get Alex out, Mary will need to swear out a statement. Claire tells him that they need to help Alex – he isn’t his brother and he didn’t do anything wrong. Couldn’t Sandringham do anything to help? No, Sandringham sent Alex a letter terminating his employment. That’s COLD.

Claire says that she hopes Sandringham at least had the same opinion of Charles, and Jamie’s like no, he was watching Charles all night, and he wasn’t impressed. Claire’s like good, but Charles did leave with St. Germain, so we have a new wrinkle. Jamie does not like this new wrinkle at all. He’ll set Murtagh to follow St. Germain (not really the most unobstructive choice), and if there’s something linking St. Germain to the attack, Murtagh will sniff it out.

He asks Claire if she can remember anything else about the attack, and she shrugs and says that they spoke French like aristocrats, had nice clothes and shoes. Jamie asks how they escaped, and Claire says that they mistook her for something called “La Dame Blanche.” Fergus says it’s some sorceress nonsense.” Jamie…the subtitles say he “scoffs” but that’s not right – he makes an exhalation of shock. “Have you heard of it?” Jamie admits that he maybe once mentioned that he was married to La Dame Blanche. Claire is like you did what.

See, Charles kept pushing trollops into his lap, and he didn’t want to appear unmanly and he really didn’t want to fuck any of them, so… “so calling your wife a witch was the best you could come up with? After everything that happened at Cranesmuir?” Jamie admits that there maaaaaaay have been a fair bit of drinking involved. Maybe. Claire asks how many people overheard him and it was only a few, but…it would have been a good bit of gossip. And the assailants may have been customers of Elise’s. If they can find them, then they’ll maybe lead to St. Germain.

It’s been a long night, and Jamie wants to lay with Claire in his arms. Claire is agreeable, and rolls her eyes. “La Dame Blanche.” Really, Jamie.

Later, during the day, Jamie and Murtagh are at the wine warehouse, Murtagh hasn’t found anything from following St. Germain as of yet, but he’s heard muttering in Maison Elise of a gang of masked men that call themselves Les Disciples du Mal. They’re aristos that prowl the streets looking for prey, and the way into the gang is to rape a virgin. Lovely. Jamie tells Murtagh to go get some sleep, but Murtagh doesn’t move. Jamie asks what’s wrong, and Murtagh says, “I failed you. You gave me your trust, and your wife, and child unborn to guard, and the wee English lassie.” He can’t forgive himself for what happened or what could have happened. Jamie tells Murtagh to keep going after them. Murtagh: “I will lay just vengeance at your feet, or be damned.”

At Silas Hawkins’ house, Mary, in her chemise and a truly adorable knitted shawl, is writing at her desk when there’s a knock. It’s Claire, who talked her way into the house past Mary’s aunt – she’s there to give Mary a medical exam. Silas won’t let Mary out of the house, and that she needs to leave Paris once she’s recovered. She’s written out a witness statement for the authorities at the Bastille to get Alex released – the poor thing has a bruise on her mouth. Claire will of course deliver it. “Alex is a good man, with a good heart.”

Claire asks Mary how she’s feeling. “Ashamed, like I’m a different person.” Claire assures Mary that nothing happened was Mary’s fault. She’s brought some herbs to help with soreness, and Mary screws up her courage. “Am I going to have a baby?” Claire tells her she doesn’t think so. “He – your attacker…he wasn’t able to finish.” Mary looks on the only silver lining – that at least she doesn’t have to marry to old warty vicomte. Claire smiles that Mary is too kind and pretty and sweet to be wasted on that warthog. Mary says that she knows that Alex will return to her and they’ll get married.

Claire is shocked – she thought it was just an infatuation, not an actual THING. But now what becomes of Frank if Mary marries Alex instead? Mary seals the letter, and later, at Claire and Jamie’s house, she stares at the letter while in front of a fire and contemplates that she could just…fix it. But she couldn’t condemn an innocent man to prison, and certainly not when she isn’t sure if that’s what needs to happen to make sure Frank still exists.

At the wine warehouse, Charles pompouses in. “The female haze that once clouded my mind has been lifted. I have excellent news.” He demands the best burgundy, and Jamie asks if this is about the English investors, and Charles dismisses them as being unimportant. “What would you say if we came into possession of ten thousand pounds, sterling?” Jamie tamps down his shock, “I’d say this is what we’ve been waiting for.” Charles has sent a letter to King James, laying out the good fortune. The King has led a “dolorous life, full of misfortune” and now Charles is going to be the Best Son Ever by laying the Crown of Britain as James’ feet.

Jamie asks where all of this good fortune is coming from. St. Germain, of course. He wants to buy a large shipment of Portuguese Madeira, but needs a business partner. Charles managed to scrounge up a bank loan for half the shipment, and once it’s sold, it’ll be a rich profit. Simple, right? Jamie: That’s not enough for army. Charles: It’s a start, and enough to start getting guns and ships (and so the balance shifts, they’ll rendezvous with Rochambeau – sorry, wrong war. That’s not what’ll happen at ALL) and to get the French to kick in, and then Charles will unite the clans and lead everyone to the gates of London. “And to glory.” See, this is a totally well thought out and great plan, guys. Jamie raises his glass, “Good news indeed.”

Jamie does admit that he is uneasy with a partnership with St. Germain. Charles says that he’s aware of St. Germain’s reputation, but all that stuff about demonic rituals and whatnot is just rumor and innuendo. “I pay no more attention to that then I do to the rumors about your wife. La Dame Blanche.” St. Germain is a man of business, and also Jamie will be the one to sell the wine – he can keep an eye on St. Germain and the money. Jamie asks when they can expect the shipment, and Charles is, well, Charles: “Do not plague me with workman’s concerns.” St Germain and Jamie will meet at Madame Elise’s to discuss the details. Charles again toasts to the glorious day when the rightful king will sit upon the throne of Britain. Indeed, Charles, but Prince Cheeks won’t get the chance for a good long time, as his Great-Gran is basically immortal.

Elsewhere, in a sunny garden, Claire is talking with Alex, and he expresses his gratitude for her help in getting him out of the Bastille. Claire tells him that Mary’s told her of their plans to marry, and Alex is like “best idea EVER amirite?” and Claire’s like yeah, but you don’t have a job, and the Duke isn’t going to be any help in getting a new job, so…before she can get any further, he starts coughing violently, and anyone who has read a gothic novel knows that bodes ill. Claire helps him sit down, and uses this to press her case further. He’s not well, he’s not getting better, and, “Surely you would not want Mary to waste her youth playing nurse.” Mary’s young and impressionable – Claire is only concerned for Mary’s well being, and Alex should think about what kind of life he’s offering her. Alex: Well yeah… Claire: So let her go, your future sucks, dude. Alex: I didn’t think of that. “I love her enough to want her to have the future she deserves. She’s going to be devastated, you know.” Claire knows, but Mary will move on from this. Alex tells Claire that Mary is fortunate to have a friend as caring as her.

Claire voiceovers that she doesn’t have a choice – she’s sad to cause these two lovebirds sadness, but she needs Mary to have a child with BlackJack, for Frank’s sake.

At Madame Elise’s, Jamie and St. Germain are stiffly sitting together. Jamie doesn’t want to be sitting with him any longer than necessary, and he’s not thrilled with this whole “partnership” bullshit, so he proses getting it over with as quickly as possible. St. Germain responds (In French, and dear god I love his French) that he also doesn’t enjoy this one bit. Also he hasn’t forgotten Claire’s involvement in that whole ship burning business. Jamie’s like so you brought up my wife, fine, fine – she’s been poisoned, attacked, and her friend was raped – “My memory is as long as yours.” And whoever was responsible for that will die slowly. St. Germain: Your personal life isn’t of interest to me. Business? I’ll get the wine, it’ll be at my warehouse, you’ll get the buyers. See? Simple. St. Germain stands up and tosses coins on the table and comtes out. God, he’s bangable.

At the house, Murtagh frets that if this venture is successful, Charles will be able to get other investors. Claire, lounging on YET ANOTHER COUCH, muses that they need to dispose of the shipment. Jamie cracks that maybe St. Germain will bring in another ship full of smallpox. Claire’s face takes on the plotting expression, and Jamie’s like I WAS JOKING. Claire is not, though – no she doesn’t have a vial of smallpox…but she can use things to fake symptoms. You can convince everyone that ship is tainted and boom – fire. Claire will look into it in the morning, and Jamie reminds her that they are to go over to the King’s stables tomorrow – he’s promised to help Sandringham pick out a few to purchase.

Claire snorts that no one owes that turd anything, and Jamie agrees but also does not want to be out of his favor, either. Also he has a present for Claire. It’s a box with 12 silver spoons in it-  apostle spoons, one for each apostle. It’s a christening gift for the baby, passed down in his family. He wrote to Jenny telling her about the baby, and she sent them, and wrote that she was so excited she could hardly keep the quill steady in her hand.

Claire voices a common anxiety – she’s worried that she might not be good at being a mother. “I know how to deliver a baby, how to feed one, how to take care of one when it’s ill, but that’s not being a mother.” She hasn’t much memory of her mother, and nothing to guide her. Jamie assures her that what she doesn’t know, she’ll learn, and they’ll learn it, together. Awwww.

At Versailles, people are wandering the gardens. Claire is in a brown gown embroidered with flowers- it’s beautiful. Jamie muses that he has missed the smell of stables. Claire: That’s one of us. Sandringham pompouses over to whisk Jamie away to discuss horseflesh. Claire excuses herself with a touch of morning sickness.

Jamie critiques the horses – his confirmation checks are a touch…superficial, but it’s not his money and Sandringham doesn’t know the difference. Sandringham expresses sympathy over the whole Bastille business.

Claire is examining a table of decorations…or sweets…or both…when Annalise (Jamie’s old flame from his misspent youth) comes over. She invites Claire to walk through the garden, and they go off, Claire looking less than enthused, and Annalise looking smug.

Sandringham tells Jamie that the dinner party wasn’t wasted – “It allowed me to take the measure of your prince.” He was not impressed. Jamie is sorry to hear it, and Sandringham is like of course you are, since you pledged yourself to him. Jamie’s making comments on the horses as they go, and Sandringham that someone who is such a good judge of horseflesh is such a poor judge of men. Jamie: I know what Charles is, but his father is the true king. This stallion is a grand laddie! “Oh he’s magnificent! But I must see a few more. I’m a man who cherishes options. Aren’t you?” Subtle.

In the garden, Claire and Annalise walk. Annalise asks if life in Scotland is simpler. Claire: The clothes are, the politics aren’t. Annalise says that she remembers Jamie as being direct and simple. Claire: The hell you say – he’s not simple. Annalise: Well, not NOW. He’s a man of business and politics. It makes me sad. Claire: He’s still JAMIE. Annalise: When I knew him, he was a boy! You’ve turned him into a man. “Speaking of men, there’s a rather dashing one staring at us. He seems rather taken with you.”

Claire turns, and in slow motion, BlackJack Randall is striding towards her, and to her credit, she stands her ground. “Claire.” Annalise: Oh, you’re acquainted. Oh yeah. BlackJack introduces himself to Annalise in French – it’s passable. He bows, and raises himself up with a grunt of pain. Claire tells Annalise that she’s feeling unwell and should go, and Annalise, ever helpful, trots off to find Jamie. Claire tries to stop her but it’s too late. BlackJack’s ears have perked up, and he’s…surprised? But not unpleasantly so? That Jamie is here, in this place.

Claire tells him to go – if Jamie sees him, “He will cut your throat.” That would be a bad idea – drawing a weapon in the presence of the King is a bad, bad plan. Claire tries to leave, and BlackJack stops her. “This is unbelievable. The fates are toying with us somehow. Setting our feet on such divergent paths that still somehow converge in the most unlikely of places.” Claire agains tries to leave, and BlackJack continues to wax rhapsodic about fate and coincidence and all manner of bullshit, and Claire snarls for him to let her go. “The King?” He says. “FUCK the king,” she hisses, and he steps back and bows grandly.

Whoops.

Louis says that he is quite pleased to see Madame Fraser again, and Claire says likewise, and Louis cocks an eyebrow at BlackJack, still in his bow. Claire introduces him, and Louis welcomes BlackJack to Versailles. BlackJack says, in his high school French, that it is an honor to be there, and Louis’ courtier laugh at his accent (look, I’ve heard worse. I’ve HAD worse. There was an incident at a Tim Horton’s in Montreal…). BlackJack is visibly annoyed/off balance by the blatant disrespec t- he’s got no reputation here.

Louis, in English, apologizes for “these children.” And then says that French is not easily mastered by the English. BlackJack says he took no offense (lies). Louis: “Perhaps the King himself as offended you, Madame Fraser?” Her accent is flawless, he says, and as he is the King, it must be true. Claire smiles that he is too kind.

Louis, who is a master at the backhanded compliment, says that he is quite pleased to see BlackJack’s uniform – such bold colors. “A pity your countrymen are too busy slaughtering each other to exchange such pleasantries.” BlackJack says that he finds war preferable to politics – in war you know your enemies. Louis: You have a point, but we do hope your “…affection for carnage does not prove ultimately fatal for you.” The courtier all titter, and Claire smirks.

Louis is not done smacking the English around, however. He VERY INNOCENTLY notes that Claire and BlackJack seem to be acquainted, and doesn’t that present some difficulty with her husband? “He is after all a proud Scottish warrior, and great supporter of my cousin’s rightful claim to the British throne.” Claire smiles a bit, and BlackJack’s like well this is a touch awkward, but we can all smile politely. “Or perhaps you have not met Lord Broch Tuarach?” Jamie walks up and BlackJack tightens his grip on his sword.

Jamie can play many kinds of chess – he tells Louis that he and BlackJack have met many times, and bows. He asks after BlackJack’s health, and says that he heard that BlackJack had an “unfortunate encounter with some…sheep?” (Claire – or possibly Cait – audibly smirks.) “Cattle.” They exchange pleasantries – you’re fully recovered? Still have difficulty getting out of bed on cold mornings. Well, the weather in Paris is quite warm. My health is fine. Claire: Okay, but why are you here?

BlackJack is there to assist his brother, and explains to Louis that Alex was employed by Sandringham, and he’s going to ask the Duke to take Alex back. Louis: Perhaps you should beg. On your knees. Asking a favor from a duke, that’s not a thing. This requires BEGGING. BlackJack is completely off balance here, and it’s glorious. “On your knees,” Louis says, firmly, and BlackJack looks at Jamie, then the King, then the ground, and slowly lowers himself to his knees. Louis stares him down for 1.5 seconds, and then giggles. “Not NOW. You English are so literal.”

BlackJack is not amused.

Claire politely asks, in French, to be excused – she says she’s not feeling well. Louis graciously grants permission, and excuses Jamie as well. He then gives BlackJack leave to rise, so as not to stain his pretty breeches. Louis kings off, snickering and giggling courtiers in tow. One can understand why the sans culottes will cut off his grandson’s head, but I quite like this king.

Claire tries to get Jamie out of the garden, and Jamie asks if she’s really unwell. She’s fine, she just needs to get them out of there. Jamie tells her to wait, and he walks back to BlackJack. Claire watches them talk, with growing fear, and BlackJack puts his hand on Jamie’s chest. They bow to each other, and Jamie comes back to Claire. “What just happened?” “I challenged him to a duel, and he accepted. He said he owes me a death.” Jamie has an almost euphoric smile on his face. BlackJack watches them leave.

In the carriage back at the house, Jamie is completely within himself, and Claire is worried. At the house, Fergus runs to meet the carriage, and Jamie tells him that it’s a great day, and asks him to fetch Murtagh. Jamie goes into the house, and doesn’t even help Claire out of the carriage. Claire tells the coachman to drive her to the Bastille, AT ONCE.
Inside the house, Murtagh is going over details – he’ll arrange the details with BlackJack’s second (This would be a good time for people to listen to “The Ten Duel Commandments” for a refresher on the rules). Randall will select weapons, and Jamie is quite certain that he’ll choose swords. Murtagh: Don’t get cocky.

Manspreader.

Claire enters and announces that there won’t be any deul – he’s in the Bastille where Claire has just sworn an accusation that he’s the one that attacked her and Mary. The boys are SUPER mad. Claire admits that they can’t hold him for long, and she’ll just go “Well I must have been mistaken,” she just needs them to hold him long enough to get Jamie to listen to reason. Jamie wants to know just what this reason IS. Claire: Well, dueling is illegal in France. You’re about to become a father so if you could just not get yourself arrested and hung, that’d be great. Jamie says that there are places where the gens d’armes do not go, and Murtagh’s like yeah, I’ll make sure he doesn’t get caught.

Claire: MURTAGH WILL YOU PLEASE LEAVE. Murtagh, hurt, leaves. Claire shuts the door.

Jamie: You gave me a gift when you told me he was alive and that meant that I could kill him and now I want that gift. Claire: I can’t let you kill him. Jamie: You can though. Claire: “Because of Frank.” Jamie: What the actual fuck.

“If you kill Randall now, then Frank… he won’t be born.” Claire explains that according to the genealogy Frank showed her, BlackJack marries/married Mary Hawkins (Jamie gets this incredible “I am so sick of this small world bullshit we live in right now” face). BlackJack and Mary are supposed to have a child, and if Jamie kills BlackJack before the child is conceived, then he’ll be killing Frank, too. “He won’t exists, and he MUST exist.”

Jamie does not like this. “I thought we were here to change the future.” Claire says that Frank is innocent is all of this. Jamie picks up his broadsword. “I can stand a lot, more than most. I’ve proven as much. But must I bear everyone’s weakness? Can I not have my own?” He snarls in Gaelic for a bit, and then reminds Claire – like she needs reminding – that she knows what BlackJack DID. Jamie’s earned this duel. Claire begs- not on her knees, but begs – for one year. Jamie: No – you need to make your choice – him or me? He picks up his dirk and holds it to his heart – he can’t live while Randall lives, so if she’s going to not let Jamie kill him, she should kill Jamie herself.

“One year, then the child – Randall’s – it will be conceived by then and then I swear, I swear, I will help you bleed him myself.” She throws the dirk away and reminds him that she’s saved his life – twice – and he owes her a life. “I see. And now you claim your debt.” “I can’t make you see reason any other way.”

“Jesus. God, Claire.” She’s claim her debt over the man who made Jamie play whore, who haunted their bed, and nearly drove Jamie to suicide “I’m a man over honor. I pay my debts. So tell me now, is that what you’re asking of me?”

“Yes.”

Jamie nods, picks up his sword, and kisses the blade. He puts it away, and snaps, “A year. Not one day more.” Claire gives a sobbing inhale, and reaches for him. “Do NOT touch me.”

Elyse: You know, I just realized that we still don’t know if King Louis pooped. I mean, I assume so, but I’d like closure on that.

This episode kind of pissed me off. First we have Jamie telling the folks at the whorehouse that Claire was a witch because that’s the only way for him to get out being unfaithful without looking unmanly.

Then we have Murtagh apologizing to JAMIE for failing him–not to Claire who was attacked or Mary who was RAPED. To Jamie. Because the biggest failing in this whole thing wasn’t to the women who suffered violence but to the dude who wasn’t there.

THEN we have a gang of aristocratic who are assholes for the sake of being assholes and entry into the asshole club is raping a virgin.

Can we just not? Can we have pretty clothes and historical intrigue without all the rape and sexist bullshit?

I’m a little confused though. In Claire’s nightgown scenes, she’s very obviously pregnant. In the first episode when Claire was back with Frank she told him she was carrying another man’s child but wasn’t visibly pregnant. Is this an editing issue or does she have one baby and then is pregnant with another? So confused.

At least we got some Jamie with horses pr0n.

HOLY FUCK BLACKJACK RANDALL IS BACK. SOMEONE KILL HIM. KILL HIM RIGHT NOW WITH FIRE.

I did like the spark of fear in BlackJack’s eyes when Jamie showed up. It makes him a little more of a nuanced character rather than just a boogeyman. Also I liked that the King was a total shitbag to him. Constipation makes a person grumpy. I guess that answers my poop question.

RHG: I like how Elyse is obsessed with bodily functions.

Of course the King was a shitbag.  He is French. BlackJack is English. ‘Twas ever thus.

This is a very transitional episode, and I’ve said a lot of words in the recap, so I’mma talk about the costumes. On the podcast with Ronald D. Moore, for episode 2.02, he is joined by Terry Dresbach the costume designer (and also his wife). And she talked about Claire’s costumes and how they are deliberately anachronistic. The idea is that Claire had a say in how her clothes were made, and she gravitated towards things that were familiar to her as a woman from the 1940s. The cuts are slightly off, the patterns are slightly off, and the fact that she tends to wear riding habits without riding are all active choices. This is what I mean when the costumes are part of the storytelling – being perfectly historically accurate doesn’t always serve the story as well as other choices might.

Basically I support Terry Dresbach’s choices – she always has a reason for what she does.