Outlander #8

Outlander fans who were with Diana Gabaldon from early on had to wait from 2010 until 2014 to read the 8th book in the series, Written in My Own Heart's Blood. I only had to wait 5 months. 

Truly, I wasn't sure how quickly I'd pick up the 8th book, but when I went to look for Stephen King's Pet Sematary (the next Books and Beer Club book - October is our horror month) in e-book form and couldn't find it, I decided to browse the e-book catalog of one of my libraries and see what was available. When Written in My Own Heart's Blood  was available without a hold (in other words, without a wait), I grabbed it. A sign that it was time to continue with the series.

I finished this book in a record 15 days! I'm not sure if this was my favorite book or not, but I just breezed through it. And now, like everyone else who has made it to book 8, I anxiously await book 9.  Go Tell The Bees That I Am Gone is the title for the next book, but still no word on when it will be published.

I'm not sure what I loved most about this book. Part of the book was set in Philadelphia, a city that is close to my heart. I loved living in Philadelphia and I love visiting my daughter that lives there now. 

A blast of Philadelphia rushed in, fluttering the stacks of paper: smoke from a dozen nearby chimneys, an acrid stink from the manure pile behind the livery stable down the street, and the intoxicatingly resinous scent of leaves and bark and brush and flowers that was William Penn's legacy. Leave one acre of trees for every five acres cleared, he'd advised in his charter, and if Philadelphia had no quite met that ideal, it was still a particularly verdant city.

That wasn't it. Or at least that wasn't only what I really liked about the book. I guess I really enjoyed the way Jamie and Claire's story intersected with Lord John Grey's story (and that of his brother, Hal). I appreciated getting to know William a little better. We got to know Lord John's niece, Dottie, and her brother, Henry a little bit better. Many of the young people have matured and were entering relationships of their own. We got to learn more about Jamie's past through the eyes of Roger. Some of Bree's story in this installment seemed a bit far fetched. As if time travel isn't far fetched enough to begin with.

As I was reading, I tried to remember what I had and hadn't learned about the American Revolution. I realized that I knew more of the big themes rather than the smaller details. Some of the historical names were well known (George Washington, Benedict Arnold) and some seemed familiar. How much of the Revolution did I really have no idea about? A lot of it. I felt a little ignorant, but I never stopped to wonder how Claire might have known so much about the Revolution. She was born and raised in England. Her only exposure to US history was through her daughter attending school in Boston. Then I came to this bit of text, written from Claire's perspective.

"Why didn't I bloody know what was going to happen? I asked myself in frustration - and not for the first time.Why hadn't I thought to brush up on American history when I had the chance? Well, because I hadn't expected to end up in America, was the answer. Just went to show, I supposed. Pointless to spend too much time in planning, anyway, given the propensity of life to make sudden left-hand turns without warning."

That's exactly it! How do we know what we'll need to know in the future, what is important to study and when it's okay to simply go with the flow.

Another line that jumped out at me was about Henri-Christian, the dwarf son of Fergus and Marsali. He was playing with some neighbor children, those of the Phillips family.

"The Phillipses were Jewish, though, and apparently felt some kinship with a person whose differences set him apart."

 I could certainly relate to that as well.

The final bit of text that jumped out at me were some of Claire's thoughts on life in general. I read this section on the afternoon of Yom Kippur, the holiest day of the Jewish calendar. The sermon at our service was about life. It's never too late to change. Make the most of life. That sort of thing. As I approach the age of 60, I often think that I had so much more time behind me compared to what I have ahead of me - even if I live a good, long life. Daunting to think about. And how often have I looked at my own hands and knuckles and wonder how did my hands get so old looking so fast. But has it been so fast?

'I can't explain,' I said, defeated. 'It wasn't there - or I wasn't looking at it - after I was shot. It wasn't nearly dying that made me look in, see it yawning there. But being so ... so bloody frail! Being so stinking afraid.' I clenched my fists, seeing the knobby bones of my knuckles, the blue veins that stood out on the backs of my hands and curved down my wrists.
'Not death,' I said at last, sniffing. 'Futility. Uselessness. Bloody entropy. Death matters, at least sometimes.'
'I ken that,' Jamie said softly, and took my hands in his; they were big, and battered, scarred and maimed. 'It's why a warrior doesn't fear death so much. He has the hope - sometimes the certainty - that his death will matter.'

Now, like every other Outlander fan, I have to wait for the next book. I'm waiting patiently for a free Starz weekend or a way to get to see Season III of Outlander on TV. Perhaps I'll pick up the novellas that go along with the Outlander series. I believe there are many of those to keep me busy while I wait.

Yes, I strongly recommend the Outlander series to anyone who is a fan of historical fiction. Or time travel. Or both. And if you like romance, all the better!