If you harbored the notion that our re-entrance into the captivating world of "Outlander" — whose fifth season commenced with a joyous wedding, recall? — would usher in a blissful or light-hearted tone after nearly two years adrift in the arid wilderness known as droughtlander, well, allow me to disabuse you of that misconception. We departed Fraser’s Ridge amidst the direst of circumstances — Claire's brutal assault and subsequent kidnapping by the Browns scarcely need mentioning — and upon our return in 1773, matters are far from rosy. True, the Ridge operates with the precision of a well-oiled machine, yet beneath this veneer lies tension, threats, and knowing glances that portend impending doom. This is hardly unfamiliar territory for Claire and Jamie Fraser, whose saga has weathered the stormiest of seas and yet managed to steer forward. Yet, this time, the air feels different; perhaps because for the first time, the usually unyielding Claire and Jamie appear to be beaten.
Claire's voiceover opens with a haunting line about "memory being the devil" and concludes with her solemnly intoning that we create our own specters and "haunt ourselves." These are ominous musings, and I haven't even ventured into the scene where Claire resorts to inhaling her homemade ether to induce unconsciousness!
Merely one episode in, the atmosphere is increasingly stifling. Part of this is undoubtedly due to the Revolutionary War looming large in the minds of the informed, but equally culpable are the more immediate dangers encroaching upon Fraser’s Ridge. Malevolent figures abound on Jamie's land! Jamie, despite his fiery nature, is far too benevolent to utter the words, "get off my lawn," but he should certainly consider it. And yes, I realize the irony of labeling someone who has dabbled in murder as "too nice," but in this context, he repeatedly demonstrates such leniency — a leniency that will undoubtedly exact a price.
Enter Tom Christie. Christie, accompanied by his son Allan, daughter Malva, and a motley crew of fishermen he has gathered, are the Ridge's newest inhabitants. Yet, Tom Christie is no stranger to Jamie. In fact, the episode opens with a twenty-minute prologue set in Ardsmuir Prison in 1753, chronicling their fraught history. Truthfully, this prologue could have been half its length; this supersized episode, intended as a treat, feels overly indulgent. Do we really need to witness Jamie being flogged once more? However, it imparts crucial information that establishes the Jamie/Christie conflict poised to be a season-long thread. Notably, Tom Christie, a fellow Ardsmuir inmate after Culloden, is a genuine scoundrel. A fervent Protestant who harbors an aversion to Catholics, he cozies up to the prison governor by becoming a Freemason, a man who preaches devotion to God above all else but always prioritizes his self-interest. He becomes incensed when Jamie, who merely seeks to serve his sentence in peace, gets ensnared in prisoner factionalism, prompting Jamie to join the Freemasons to maintain harmony. Jamie decrees that the prison be treated as a Freemason lodge, where politics and religion are forbidden topics — and it works. Of course, it works! Jamie is a natural leader and the governor's new favorite, a fact that further irritates Christie.
When Tom Christie, his options exhausted and eyes fixed on the invitation Jamie had posted, beckoning all Ardsmuir prisoners to find refuge on Fraser's Ridge, finally arrives, it's evident that the grudge lingers like a stubborn stain. His visage, a punchable mask of resentment, speaks volumes. Unfortunately for the impending confrontation, Roger remains oblivious. He knows nothing of the strained history between Christie and his father-in-law. Thus, when Christie's knock echoes through the door and Roger, accompanied solely by Bree, greets him warmly, the Ardsmuir inmate finds a ready welcome. Oh, dear readers, Jamie's facial contortion upon discovering not only Christie's presence in his kitchen but also Roger's announcement of Christie's permanent settlement could inspire a thousand-word essay. His bug-eyed stare articulates what his lips refuse, a thunderous "Is this guy serious?" — a vivid portrayal of the complex father-son-in-law dynamics. Roger, ever the loser in Jamie's books, sports a magnificent, luscious beard, a trivial victory that means much to some, yet little to Jamie.
Jamie feels compelled to let it slide; he had invited all his Ardsmuir comrades, and excluding Christie alone seemed unfair. Alas, Christie brings trouble as surely as night follows day. His every glance at Jamie's land seems a chokehold of resentment, his first desire to erect a church — a venture Jamie knows will only stir unrest with Christie's inflammatory sermons. Christie, daringly, needles Jamie about his scars and prison time, implying his moral bankruptcy. His daughter, a creepshow in the making, and his son Allan, a walking testament to unresolved paternal issues, round out a family whose quirks border on bizarre. Trouble brews within the Christie clan, ready to spill over onto Ridge.
And when I say "trouble brews," I mean it's an imminent eruption. As the Frasers host a hog feast at the Big House, who should ride in to dampen the spirits but the Brown Town clowns, there to apprehend Allan for stealing a gunpowder horn — quite the antilimax. Indeed, Jamie's woes multiply with Christie's presence compounded by Richard Brown's meddling. Recall Richard Brown and his Brownsville cohorts, who formed a "Safety Committee," essentially a vigilante squad enforcing their will with impunity.
Richard Brown is eager to apprehend Allan forthwith, his resolve unwavering. Tom Christie, concurring that his errant son deserves retribution, wonders aloud if, instead of carting him off, they might not handle the matter on the spot. He then engages Allan in a chilling aside, hinting at a grim fate akin to his mother's, who supposedly "suffers eternal damnation in the flames of hell." A charming father-son exchange, indeed.
Richard Brown almost concedes to Fraser's Ridge's jurisdiction in this matter, perhaps sensing a kindred spirit in Tom Christie—a recognition of like minds among the less than virtuous. However, Brown's intentions are far from benevolent. He notes Major MacDonald of the King's Army's presence and cunningly speculates that Jamie's leniency towards gunpowder theft might stem from harboring rebels or preparing for insurrection against the Crown. Jamie finds himself in a precarious predicament: he desires to sever ties with the Crown incrementally in anticipation of the Revolutionary War, yet he must feign loyalty to England as long as possible to avoid incarceration. Thus, Jamie treads a perilous tightrope.
In this instance, it compels him to administer ten lashes to Allan, a public spectacle that undoubtedly torments him for myriad reasons. Despite Jamie's attempts to assert his authority over his land's inhabitants, Tom Christie, Richard Brown, and Major MacDonald pose formidable obstacles, rendering his efforts increasingly challenging.
Richard Brown's arrival sets off a cascade of notable issues demanding our attention. Claire can barely tolerate his presence, her gaze instantly averting as she rushes indoors. His mere appearance stirs a maelstrom of suppressed emotions and haunting memories, rendering her an unstable figure. Despite her assurances to Jamie, who insists on accompanying her everywhere out of an inability to let her go, and to Bree, that she is well, her words ring hollow. No one is convinced; her state is dire. When the nightmares refuse to abate, Claire retreats to her surgery, resorting to a few doses of her freshly prepared ether—a moment we had recently celebrated as a triumph in her possession of anesthesia!—hoping to numb her senses and slip into oblivion. This descent into self-medication is undeniably alarming.
As 'Outlander' unfolds, Claire is not the sole soul in need of our concern. Marsali and Fergus's situation同样令人心忧。Marsali, heavily pregnant with their fourth child, sports bruises on her wrists while endeavoring to shield Fergus, whose constant intoxication is now all too apparent. The full picture remains obscured, but since the attack on Fraser's Ridge, something has deeply troubled him. His bitter exclamation of "sorry for being such a disappointment" directed at his wife hints at festering wounds resurfacing. Add him to the lengthy list of Fraser's Ridge inhabitants whose welfare weighs heavily on our minds.
