Chapter 8 - An Evening's Entertainment

This chapter opens a bit unexpectedly for me, as I was not sure how well Claire was going to take to the role of "healer" at the castle. But one of the early phrases, I think, captures it beautifully:

To take responsibility for the welfare of others made me feel less victimized by the whims of whatever impossible fate had brought me here...

Helping others is always the best way to get our eyes off of our own cares and worries. I thought this was just a great way of highlighting the resilient and pragmatic core of Claire's character.

Then we move to the hall for the entertainment gathering that evening, and I was introduced to a new wine term with which I, like Claire, was also not familiar:

...Rhenish, ye know. You’re not familiar with it?” I shook my head as he tipped the decanter over my goblet, filling the bowl with a pool of glowing rose. He held his own goblet by the stem, turning it before his face so that the firelight lit the contents with dashes of vermilion. 

According to the website Pull the Cork, "Rhenish wines are dry white wines from the Rhine river valley in Germany". Jamie explains the uniqueness of this specific wine to Claire:

“Aye, it’s good,” he said, handing the goblet back. “It’s also double strength. Colum takes it at night because his legs pain him."

Yes, please, I'll have another. Actually, for me, I'm more of a deep red Merlot or Cabernet fancier, and I certainly don't mind a hearty ale now and again. But I'm always open to try something new, especially if it's double strength. I always knew I could claim it for its "medicinal value". :)

The entertainment scene was also very interesting. The way the music is depicted, some in Gaelic and some in English, I could almost hear the strains of music over the words on the page. I also liked how Gwyllyn conveyed the legends and myths in the stories he told. It was great seeing the story of the Wee Folk came to life for Claire with unusual clarity and significance:

...women trapped in the rocks of fairy duns, traveling far and arriving exhausted, who knew not where they had been, nor how they had come there.

To me, that is just great storytelling, introducing us to the myths-that-could-be-true through the pairing of the previous story of Reverend Wakefield's with this legend of the Wee Folk. Many a good yarn have been spun from the legends of yore.

As they head back to Claire's room to change the dressing on Jamie's shoulder, I was unexpectedly struck with the unique perspective Jamie had about not wanting to Alec to see the scars on his back:

“But when you see it yourself, it’s like”—he hesitated, looking for words—“it’s a bit…personal, maybe, is what I mean. I think…if he were to see the scars, he couldna see me anymore without thinking of my back. And I’d be able to see him thinking of it, and that would make me remember it, and—” He broke off, shrugging.

I understand how this helps illustrate the uncaring attitude that people have historically held towards those who were physically handicapped in some way (still evident today, in many ways). However, while a very tender and emotional moment for Jamie and Claire (as she understood the depth of what he had been through), I couldn't help think that this was a bit out of character from a male perspective.

Most guys are usually pretty quick to share stories of their scars, and demonstrate a bit of bravado (even if false bravado). I would think it would make more sense if Alec had seen his back, and then made light of it along the lines of "Och, laddie, reminds me of the floggin' that auld MacGregor received back in '38. Redcoats havena bit o' mercy in them" (or something like that), that would deepen the antagonism toward the English. Then he would have secretly had a higher opinion of Jamie, knowing what he had been through, because he had never seen anything that bad, even with old MacGregor. The emotion conveyed would be the same, but in a slightly different vein.

I guess it all depends on which way the story needs highlighting, whether the distrust towards the English or the trust between Jamie and Claire (which is obviously what is conveyed here). But as Jamie even admits: "I daresay I’m too tender-minded about it, in any case." Obviously it was deeply personal for him, and it is a very touching scene allowing Claire into that personal sphere.

Then the mood is lightened as Claire explores the castle:

There was no one about for the moment, and I took the opportunity to explore the upper floors of the castle, poking into empty chambers and winding staircases, mapping the castle in my mind.

I was glad for this insight, as I would have been doing the same at my first opportunity. It shows my history-buff side, but what grander thrill than to explore an 18th-century castle at the height of its use and habitation! Of course, this is a device to have Claire find Jamie, um, detained in a prior engagement. This all makes for a bit of fun at the dinner table that evening:

“Your mouth looks a bit swollen, Jamie. Get thumped by a horse, did you?” I asked wickedly.
“Aye,” he answered, narrowing his eyes. “Swung its head when I wasna looking.” He spoke placidly, but I felt a large foot come down on top of mine under the table. It rested lightly at the moment, but the threat was explicit.
“Too bad; those fillies can be dangerous,” I said innocently.

This good-natured sparring is depicted masterfully, and just feels good after the depth of the preceding pages. It is also a little deeper insight into the perceptiveness of Old Alec, as he relates that what Jamie needs is a woman and not a girl.

Hmm...I wonder which woman he could possibly be talking about? :)