Alert! Alert! As we embark on this journey through the temporal realms, Outlander Squad, heed this crucial warning: "Down the Rabbit Hole" harbors not a whisper of Claire or Jamie's presence. Not even a fleeting glimpse. Now, did I let out a gleeful squeak when Frank in Glasses materialized in Bree's nostalgic recollections? Absolutely, I confess. Yet, I'd gladly relinquish that melancholic and handsome man. (might we discuss how television's Frank eclipses book Frank in charm?) for even a minor subplot featuring Claire and Jamie nurturing Clarence the Donkey. Anything, really, to avoid ten arduous minutes of Brianna limping across the Scottish wilderness – we grasp the concept, time travel is no picnic. Claire and Jamie are the lifeblood of this narrative; their absence dilutes its essence!
That said, let's extend a modicum of leniency towards Brianna and Roger, who, having traversed the stones, confront daunting challenges. Brianna seeks to rescue her parents from a fiery fate, while Roger aims to find and safeguard Brianna. Both encounter menacing adversaries and face life-threatening perils. Honestly, what prompts anyone to undertake time travel? It scarcely seems enjoyable.
Consider Brianna's initial days in the 18th century. After what feels like an eternity of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and hobbling through Scotland with a sprained ankle, she spots a distant house, a potential haven en route to the harbor for passage to America. Exhausted, she collapses on the roadside, her mind drifting to cherished memories of Daddy Frank from her childhood, only to awaken nestled in an unfamiliar bed – within Laoghaire's abode.
Oh, Laoghaire, the chaotic villain I loathe yet adore. Undeniably The Worst, yet somehow entertaining. Her schemes to win Jamie's affection consistently fail, yet, akin to a cartoon antagonist, she persists. Even after years, she perpetuates the fallacy that Jamie was head-over-heels in love with her and left solely due to "bewitchment by a harlot." When Ian Murray (hello, Old Ian!) visits to deliver Jamie's monthly alimony and offers his own funds to supplement the shortfall (Jamie can scarcely meet half his obligation), she rants at him, insisting on her pride. Ian refrains from saying, "Girl, when have you ever possessed pride?" Yet, his eyes convey the sentiment.
Drama dictates that Laoghaire remains oblivious to her guest being Jamie and Claire's offspring, while Brianna is unaware she's cohabiting with the woman who sought her mother's demise as a witch. As her ankle mends, Brianna endeavors to assist Laoghaire and her younger daughter, Joan, by indulging in tales of the "boor" who shattered Laoghaire's heart, braiding Joan's hair, and enduring biblical bedtime stories. Seriously, you've journeyed 200 years back in time, and this is your priority? Crooning tunes about San Francisco and mending cabinet doors? Stay focused on your mission!
Regardless, the truth about Bree and Laoghaire's identities surfaces, and Laoghaire remains absolutely incensed by Claire's existence. She initially deceives Bree by claiming that Jamie doesn't want her, and then confines her to her bedroom. This is the quintessential tale of a wicked stepmother. Fortunately for Bree, she is eventually rescued by Joan, who has forged a bond with her over their shared red hair and mutual affection for Jamie, or something akin to it. Joan then assists Bree in reaching her Uncle Ian at Lallybroch. Unfortunately for everyone, Jenny is absent, occupied with delivering one of her grandchildren, which seems incredibly unjust. Ian, overjoyed to meet Jamie's daughter, warmly welcomes Bree.
However, Bree's visit to Lallybroch is brief, much shorter than its counterpart in the book, and one wonders why the show chose to truncate it. Ian swiftly arranges for her passage to America aboard the Phillip Alonzo. While there, Bree, true to her mother's nature, uses Ian's money to aid a young girl named Lizzie, helping her escape being sold to a man as a concubine after her father pleads for their case.
With their journey to America looming, a blend of excitement and terror envelops them. But let's delve into those Frank flashbacks. Given Brianna and Frank's deep bond, it's unsurprising that as she confronts the most harrowing challenges of her life, she thinks of him—after his demise, she deemed him her hero—and adopts his motto of "soldiering on" during trying times.
These flashbacks serve more than just to enrich the Brianna-Frank relationship. The revelation that Brianna was in Frank's car mere hours before his fatal accident, refusing to accept his and Claire's divorce and his offer to relocate to England, is heart-wrenching. However, there's more to it: Frank was aware that Claire intended to return to Jamie and that they would perish in a fire. That obituary Fiona handed to Roger? Reverend Wakefield had forwarded it to Frank. Frank knew Claire's fate yet chose to withhold it from her. This revelation adds dramatic depth, casting Frank in a complex light. On one hand, poor Frank learns that his estranged wife is about to leave him once more. On the other hand, not so poor Frank, for keeping such crucial information to himself is a despicable act! This discovery is indeed perplexing.
As you grapple with this stunning Frank-Claire revelation, let's also address Roger's time-travel escapade. Oh, and we must absolutely discuss Roger's transformation—he shaved his beard and grew out his hair, now embodying an incredibly attractive pirate-like figure. I want to dislike him, but those ponytails!
Roger's sojourn in 18th-century Scotland gets off to a rocky start as well. He reaches the harbor, sans peanut butter and jelly sandwich, mind you, and fights his way onto a ship bound for America. As if by fate, who should the captain of this ship be but Stephen Bonnet.
Lest you perceive Bonnet merely as a cunning and aggressive thief who slays minor characters and pilfers jewels to the tune of Ray Charles, be forewarned: this villainous scoundrel once callously hurled a child overboard in the dead of night, merely suspecting her of having smallpox. His actions are nothing short of deplorable, revealing Bonnet as a pure embodiment of evil. He even indulges in a supervillainous custom, deciding people's fates by the flip of a coin—an act that, for some inexplicable reason, exudes an eerie terror. This monster of a man holds no regard for Roger's heroic endeavors aboard his ship.
Roger, a compassionate soul possessed of humanity, attempts to aid a mother and her infant in concealing themselves on the Gloriana—the baby, merely suffering from a teething rash, is nonetheless in grave danger, as Bonnet would summarily cast him into the sea, his fears of smallpox ruling his actions. This scenario is dire for obvious reasons, but it takes a more sinister turn when Roger realizes the woman is Morag MacKenzie and her son, Jeremiah MacKenzie—his very own ancestors. Should that baby perish, Roger himself would cease to exist, a grim twist in the tapestry of time.
Bonnet discovers Roger's clandestine hiding of the MacKenzies below deck, and his wrath is swift and severe. Yet, it is not the mother and child who face retribution for their defiance—it is Roger. Bonnet subjects his fate to the whimsical chance of a coin toss. This time, fortune smiles upon Roger, sparing him, but their voyage is far from over, a harrowing journey through the depths of despair. Is this voyage the very cruise from hell itself?
