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4.2 AVERAGE
4.2 AVERAGE
I will keep this part spoiler free, regarding plot points and characters. However I will talk about feelings so if that verges into spoiler or at least iffy territory for you, stop after this paragraph: Is this a 5
I’m so sad this book is over with, I really enjoyed it. There were a few parts that I found a little boring but overall I loved it!
I really loved getting to know William more, him and Brianna meeting was so good. Also I waited the whole bloody book for a reunion between Jamie and William and it happened in… the last sentence!?
How can I wait for the next book? Sigh
I really loved getting to know William more, him and Brianna meeting was so good. Also I waited the whole bloody book for a reunion between Jamie and William and it happened in… the last sentence!?
How can I wait for the next book? Sigh
888 pages of an engrossing, wandering account of the further adventures of Claire and Jamie Fraser, in volume 9 of the Outlander series. A first time reader would probably be lost in the bewildering array of characters, but those who have been following along since the first "Outlander" novel in 1991 will feel right at home. Gabaldon writes elegantly and well; her grasp of history brings each episode vividly to life. I enjoyed this thoroughly!
That said, this is truly a leisurely, rambling stroll through a fair amount American revolutionary history at this point: it has been quite some time since any of these books have followed the traditional story arc of exposition, mounting tension, turning point and resolution. This is quite literally a very long string of vignettes, loosely joined together. There are a number of very interesting characters that we get to know in this book: young Frances (Fanny), rescued from a brothel in a previous tale is one; I also found Agnes Cloudtree and Silvia Hardman and her daughters compelling, along with Elspeth Cunnngham, and the Mohawk Sachem, who don't get nearly enough page time in my opinion. I enjoyed the chapters in which Ian and Rachel traveled to see to the welfare of his first, Indian wife. But there are also characters and incidents that seemed incidental to the story (John Cinnamon, for one) that simply slowed things down, and there are some aggravating plot threads left dangling (what's the story with Fergus' supposed parentage? What happened to ex-slave Ulysses and his threats?) I guess you can't please everybody. If you are willing to dive into a full-immersion experience with a host of favorite characters and don't require immediate resolution, you'll love this. If you need things neatly tied up with a bow this will aggravate the heck out of you.
That said, this is truly a leisurely, rambling stroll through a fair amount American revolutionary history at this point: it has been quite some time since any of these books have followed the traditional story arc of exposition, mounting tension, turning point and resolution. This is quite literally a very long string of vignettes, loosely joined together. There are a number of very interesting characters that we get to know in this book: young Frances (Fanny), rescued from a brothel in a previous tale is one; I also found Agnes Cloudtree and Silvia Hardman and her daughters compelling, along with Elspeth Cunnngham, and the Mohawk Sachem, who don't get nearly enough page time in my opinion. I enjoyed the chapters in which Ian and Rachel traveled to see to the welfare of his first, Indian wife. But there are also characters and incidents that seemed incidental to the story (John Cinnamon, for one) that simply slowed things down, and there are some aggravating plot threads left dangling (what's the story with Fergus' supposed parentage? What happened to ex-slave Ulysses and his threats?) I guess you can't please everybody. If you are willing to dive into a full-immersion experience with a host of favorite characters and don't require immediate resolution, you'll love this. If you need things neatly tied up with a bow this will aggravate the heck out of you.
SO much better than the last one. So much. This one I listened to the audio version while on a to and fro road trip from Sioux City to Santa Fe, a second time, after reading it the day it came out. Not the tedious slog of the last book. I will say if I have to hear that ancient narrator say BUEEEEEEZZZZ with bizarre emphasis ever again it will be too soon. I’m accustomed to Catriona’s lovely, mellow, gentle woman’s voice. Hearing Clair as a spindly too-emotional elder was off-putting, although the voice actress did an excellent job overall.
The hardest of the Outlander series for me to get through -- took months, and borrowing from several libraries. It seems crazy to say not much happens in a nearly 900-page book, but there's probably only about 200 pages of plot among the vignettes of life with the Frasers, lengthy reminiscences, and lots of description. My least favorite book of the series.
emotional
slow-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
A mix
Strong character development:
No
Loveable characters:
Yes
Frustrated with the storylines. So much in motion but no gratification. Now we have to wait…how many years. Don’t get me wrong, I love having everyone back together but what happens next? I don’t want them to ride off into the sunset happily ever after but…a happily ever after on the Ridge would be lovely. Now I will wait until the next installment.
I will agree with other reviewers that this book was a long, slow, character study without too much plot. I do love the characters at this point, which is why I eventually finished it, but it was a bit of a slog at times and I admit to skipping a few sections that felt more tedious than others. Namely, all of Brianna's and Roger's attempts to scientifically explain time travel
This one took a while, partly because the behemoth was somewhat conspicuous, laying on my desk at work. It needed an amount of attention I wasn't always able to give, and therefore it dragged on longer than usual.
Some reviewers pointed out that the plot seemed stretched to its limits, overly episodic and rather inconsequential. I'm not yet entirely certain about where I stand in terms of plot, but, I mean, I didn't dislike it. The one thing that irked me was Silvia meeting Gabriel when she did. The meeting did indeed seem slightly too improbable to be of any other value than simple plot propulsion. Though most of the story still flowed seamlessly, the edges still nice and smooth. I laughed out loud, I snorted, I had lumps in my throat and mist in my eyes, which meant the requirement of emotional engagement was well and trully met. It seems as if people have grown so attached to the series that they feel they have a claim on which character should be included and for what number of episodes. Furthermore, in a story of human relationships and a world in utter turmoil, how can one expect a linear plot line and a satisfying ending? It's war. There is no ending. Perhaps it might be easier to treat this tome as a psychology textbook, a study of character. After all, not everyone's main, or only, motivation for reading is, or should be, following the plot (a perfectly legitimate motive, but not an end-all and be-all of reading).
Another aspect often stated as a flaw of this installment is its high level of descriptiveness. What with my ever-present sense of horror vacui, I feel comfort when things are crammed (in some semblance of order!), set close together, when there are a lot of them in the same space, be that teacups on a shelf or words and sentences on a page. I rather enjoyed googling baize doors and the process of producing rag paper, the little metafictional treatises on history as storytelling, the conversations with no other apparent purpose than pure exchange of humanness. The expositions of Claire's garden, internal structures of human limbs, people sitting in privies and contemplating their fate, the domestic tedium of butter-churning, pie-making and face-washing, the scrunching of the folds of a homespun apron, all made up an image of lives lived. There was nothing static about those descriptions. They made the characters alive, the spaces occupied, the objects used. Without them, the world would fall right flat.
What thrilled me beyond all else was what I would call flowery language. The ubiquitous forsooths, forbyes, absquatulatings and rannygazoos sent my little philological heart aflutter. They reiterated my utter adoration of words as expression.
What I had a slight issue with were languages. The half-a-dozen-or-so of them represented in the text helped to build the sense of cosmopolitanism, and gave me tiny jolts of self-indulgence with every sentence or expression I could translate myself. But then, in the midst of two German exclamations, one would find a sentence or two in English, with an atachment "he said in German". This would take me completely out of the story for a moment, my brain much less willing to suspend its disbelief for the duration of the scene. If the overall text was smooth, this is where it felt rather rough around the edges.
Truth be told, not my favorite of the lot, yet gripping enough on all levels: world-building, emotional investment, knowledge, language. It got me thinking, it got me researching, it got me crying, it got me chuckling. It got me out of my head. There was room for more, but not a whole lot of it.
Some reviewers pointed out that the plot seemed stretched to its limits, overly episodic and rather inconsequential. I'm not yet entirely certain about where I stand in terms of plot, but, I mean, I didn't dislike it. The one thing that irked me was Silvia meeting Gabriel when she did. The meeting did indeed seem slightly too improbable to be of any other value than simple plot propulsion. Though most of the story still flowed seamlessly, the edges still nice and smooth. I laughed out loud, I snorted, I had lumps in my throat and mist in my eyes, which meant the requirement of emotional engagement was well and trully met. It seems as if people have grown so attached to the series that they feel they have a claim on which character should be included and for what number of episodes. Furthermore, in a story of human relationships and a world in utter turmoil, how can one expect a linear plot line and a satisfying ending? It's war. There is no ending. Perhaps it might be easier to treat this tome as a psychology textbook, a study of character. After all, not everyone's main, or only, motivation for reading is, or should be, following the plot (a perfectly legitimate motive, but not an end-all and be-all of reading).
Another aspect often stated as a flaw of this installment is its high level of descriptiveness. What with my ever-present sense of horror vacui, I feel comfort when things are crammed (in some semblance of order!), set close together, when there are a lot of them in the same space, be that teacups on a shelf or words and sentences on a page. I rather enjoyed googling baize doors and the process of producing rag paper, the little metafictional treatises on history as storytelling, the conversations with no other apparent purpose than pure exchange of humanness. The expositions of Claire's garden, internal structures of human limbs, people sitting in privies and contemplating their fate, the domestic tedium of butter-churning, pie-making and face-washing, the scrunching of the folds of a homespun apron, all made up an image of lives lived. There was nothing static about those descriptions. They made the characters alive, the spaces occupied, the objects used. Without them, the world would fall right flat.
What thrilled me beyond all else was what I would call flowery language. The ubiquitous forsooths, forbyes, absquatulatings and rannygazoos sent my little philological heart aflutter. They reiterated my utter adoration of words as expression.
What I had a slight issue with were languages. The half-a-dozen-or-so of them represented in the text helped to build the sense of cosmopolitanism, and gave me tiny jolts of self-indulgence with every sentence or expression I could translate myself. But then, in the midst of two German exclamations, one would find a sentence or two in English, with an atachment "he said in German". This would take me completely out of the story for a moment, my brain much less willing to suspend its disbelief for the duration of the scene. If the overall text was smooth, this is where it felt rather rough around the edges.
Truth be told, not my favorite of the lot, yet gripping enough on all levels: world-building, emotional investment, knowledge, language. It got me thinking, it got me researching, it got me crying, it got me chuckling. It got me out of my head. There was room for more, but not a whole lot of it.
I read the first six books in the Outlander series nearly a decade ago when I lucked out and got the entire set for a great price at a second-hand bookstore while travelling in Regina, Saskatchewan. This initial 'binge' introduction into the series spoiled me, and now the years between new installments are wrought with the anguish of wanting to know what happens next. Having said that, I would never want Diana Gabaldon to rush, for while the time we wait for the next installment can be maddening, it's well worth the wait to get a genuine and well-finished installment, like a vintage wine. It has been seven long years, seven, since the last installment of this series. You can imagine that anticipation has been high.
When I tell people that I have read this series, I admit openly, that it is definitely not everyone's cup of tea. When you embark on reading a series, you have to accept that the author is working within a practice I like to call 'world craft'. Unlike a stand-alone book, series novelists are engaged in creating whole worlds rather than just telling a story. They are massive tapestries into which each book and installment provides a glimpse of the greater whole. Some books will be intense with action, while others will be more circumspect, paced, filling out the background and enriching the depth of characters. Old threads begun in earlier books are picked up again, and new threads are begun, and until the author throws up their hands and says "it is done"- one has to abide with the anxiety and suspense of what the full tapestry will actually be.
Gabaldon is a master at world craft. Her characters live and breathe, and the places she takes you to come to life around you. While the books are considered fantasy because her characters are time travellers, so much of it is set in the past, to make it equally historical fiction. Her historical research is impeccable and I have always appreciated the trouble that goes into the details for these books. I will not recount the Fraser's long saga here, assuming that if you've read this far, you either are a fan yourself and just want to know what others thought, or you're thinking of reading the series (in which case you probably want to go to book one [b: Outlander|10964|Outlander (Outlander, #1)|Diana Gabaldon|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1529065012l/10964._SY75_.jpg|2489796] and read the blurb there). I will meditate a bit on book number nine, which I call "Bees".
This installment brings Claire and Jamie's family together, and then apart, and then together again. We also follow the wayward travels of Jamie's son (born into the British gentry) as he comes to terms with learning the truth about his parentage. We spend a long and languishing portion of the book with Brianna and Roger as they re-establish themselves into life in this century on the ridge. The togetherness of the family is a soothing and relaxing exhalation of relief, after the last two books where every character seemed to be navigating the precipice of death.
Gabaldon takes the time to sow the deeper divisions of the revolution. The ideals and purpose of the rebellion are more clearly dividing neighbours and families (as seen in Lord John's thread). The Fraser's struggle to find their way through the Captain Cunningham insurgency was likely a very common experience for landholders at the time. The Frasers have the advantage of knowing about key battles, and how the war turns out, but must also struggle with these minor insurgencies that did not make history books but have very real effects on their lives. Jamie begins to wonder if the book written by Frank Randall is in some way addressed to him, a notion that is not unlikely given that Frank withheld knowledge of Jamie's survival at Culloden from Claire, and likely could find evidence of Brianna's and Roger's having gone to the past (Brianna's paintings for example, or Roger's ordination?). At any rate, there is very subtle but clear base melody to "Bees" that hums 'survival' and 'patience'.
I will admit that the long build-up to the eventual battle at King's Mountain felt anti-climactic. Being accustomed to Gabaldon's style, I anticipated that Jamie would be critically wounded, but doubted he would die (there are too many untied threads there with Jamie for it to be possible yet). I was expecting the battle itself to be a more drawn-out affair (like Monmouth in #8) - instead, it begins and ends in a few short chapters. I scratched my head a bit at that. The outcome also left me daydreaming in curiosity as to Frank Randal's motives in writing that Jamie is killed on King's Mountain. Will this again be explained by 'poor historical records' as was done in #6? (Again I must calm my curiosity, it will be revealed somehow)
I am sure other readers of the series would agree with me that not all Outlander books are equal. We each have our own favourites, for our own reasons. I loved 1-4 for their balanced mix of action and character development. The Fiery Cross (5) and A Breath of Snow and Ashes (6) were harder for me to get into. I found it difficult to follow all the threads converging and emerging. I didn't really understand, nor could I really get invested in the thread of Mulva Christie and the whole clash of wills that happened in #6, but What's Bred in the Bone (7), Written in my Own Heart's Blood(8) and now Go Tell The Bees I am Gone have now made those previous parts of the tapestry clearer to me. They served as a foundation of uneasiness for what the Fraser's have to undergo in "Bees", when their own tenants will not be trustworthy.
I enjoyed #7 and #8 for the steady stream of action, and the time travel, which seemed nearly forgotten in #5-6. "Bees" has left me pleasantly satisfied, like having eaten a long-awaited meal that was long and delicious. I have read a few reviews here, and some have commented on how much Bees, lacks the moving plot of the other books and is seemingly more preoccupied with everyday life, like the making of food, tending gardens and comings and goings of minor characters. I agree that this book lacks the movement of those that came before, but I believe and trust, as the tapestry unfurls, that this pause was a necessary part of the world craft at hand. We had to have some time to feel and be with these characters at rest, to see them growing and changing with age.
I have also learned that you can never underestimate how critical those minor characters can become. I would have never imagined we would see the Hardmans again and Sylvia's character grew to have a very large bit in this book. Fanny, the orphaned young girl, rescued by William and passed onto the Frasers' care, blossomed as a character in this installment, something I never anticipated. We spent less time with Brianna's children in this book (having had so much of them in #8) that it was nice to spend time with Fergus' family, with Germaine, growing up and filling up as a character. There were many satisfying moments for so many of these beloved characters, and enough new material to keep the mind wondering and devising possible outcomes for the next 7? years it takes to get the next one.
Diana Gabaldon has said that #10 will be the last of the series, and I'll admit I see her laying the framework for what is bound to be an epic ending.
When I tell people that I have read this series, I admit openly, that it is definitely not everyone's cup of tea. When you embark on reading a series, you have to accept that the author is working within a practice I like to call 'world craft'. Unlike a stand-alone book, series novelists are engaged in creating whole worlds rather than just telling a story. They are massive tapestries into which each book and installment provides a glimpse of the greater whole. Some books will be intense with action, while others will be more circumspect, paced, filling out the background and enriching the depth of characters. Old threads begun in earlier books are picked up again, and new threads are begun, and until the author throws up their hands and says "it is done"- one has to abide with the anxiety and suspense of what the full tapestry will actually be.
Gabaldon is a master at world craft. Her characters live and breathe, and the places she takes you to come to life around you. While the books are considered fantasy because her characters are time travellers, so much of it is set in the past, to make it equally historical fiction. Her historical research is impeccable and I have always appreciated the trouble that goes into the details for these books. I will not recount the Fraser's long saga here, assuming that if you've read this far, you either are a fan yourself and just want to know what others thought, or you're thinking of reading the series (in which case you probably want to go to book one [b: Outlander|10964|Outlander (Outlander, #1)|Diana Gabaldon|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1529065012l/10964._SY75_.jpg|2489796] and read the blurb there). I will meditate a bit on book number nine, which I call "Bees".
This installment brings Claire and Jamie's family together, and then apart, and then together again. We also follow the wayward travels of Jamie's son (born into the British gentry) as he comes to terms with learning the truth about his parentage. We spend a long and languishing portion of the book with Brianna and Roger as they re-establish themselves into life in this century on the ridge. The togetherness of the family is a soothing and relaxing exhalation of relief, after the last two books where every character seemed to be navigating the precipice of death.
Gabaldon takes the time to sow the deeper divisions of the revolution. The ideals and purpose of the rebellion are more clearly dividing neighbours and families (as seen in Lord John's thread). The Fraser's struggle to find their way through the Captain Cunningham insurgency was likely a very common experience for landholders at the time. The Frasers have the advantage of knowing about key battles, and how the war turns out, but must also struggle with these minor insurgencies that did not make history books but have very real effects on their lives. Jamie begins to wonder if the book written by Frank Randall is in some way addressed to him, a notion that is not unlikely given that Frank withheld knowledge of Jamie's survival at Culloden from Claire, and likely could find evidence of Brianna's and Roger's having gone to the past (Brianna's paintings for example, or Roger's ordination?). At any rate, there is very subtle but clear base melody to "Bees" that hums 'survival' and 'patience'.
I will admit that the long build-up to the eventual battle at King's Mountain felt anti-climactic. Being accustomed to Gabaldon's style, I anticipated that Jamie would be critically wounded, but doubted he would die (there are too many untied threads there with Jamie for it to be possible yet). I was expecting the battle itself to be a more drawn-out affair (like Monmouth in #8) - instead, it begins and ends in a few short chapters. I scratched my head a bit at that. The outcome also left me daydreaming in curiosity as to Frank Randal's motives in writing that Jamie is killed on King's Mountain. Will this again be explained by 'poor historical records' as was done in #6? (Again I must calm my curiosity, it will be revealed somehow)
I am sure other readers of the series would agree with me that not all Outlander books are equal. We each have our own favourites, for our own reasons. I loved 1-4 for their balanced mix of action and character development. The Fiery Cross (5) and A Breath of Snow and Ashes (6) were harder for me to get into. I found it difficult to follow all the threads converging and emerging. I didn't really understand, nor could I really get invested in the thread of Mulva Christie and the whole clash of wills that happened in #6, but What's Bred in the Bone (7), Written in my Own Heart's Blood(8) and now Go Tell The Bees I am Gone have now made those previous parts of the tapestry clearer to me. They served as a foundation of uneasiness for what the Fraser's have to undergo in "Bees", when their own tenants will not be trustworthy.
I enjoyed #7 and #8 for the steady stream of action, and the time travel, which seemed nearly forgotten in #5-6. "Bees" has left me pleasantly satisfied, like having eaten a long-awaited meal that was long and delicious. I have read a few reviews here, and some have commented on how much Bees, lacks the moving plot of the other books and is seemingly more preoccupied with everyday life, like the making of food, tending gardens and comings and goings of minor characters. I agree that this book lacks the movement of those that came before, but I believe and trust, as the tapestry unfurls, that this pause was a necessary part of the world craft at hand. We had to have some time to feel and be with these characters at rest, to see them growing and changing with age.
I have also learned that you can never underestimate how critical those minor characters can become. I would have never imagined we would see the Hardmans again and Sylvia's character grew to have a very large bit in this book. Fanny, the orphaned young girl, rescued by William and passed onto the Frasers' care, blossomed as a character in this installment, something I never anticipated. We spent less time with Brianna's children in this book (having had so much of them in #8) that it was nice to spend time with Fergus' family, with Germaine, growing up and filling up as a character. There were many satisfying moments for so many of these beloved characters, and enough new material to keep the mind wondering and devising possible outcomes for the next 7? years it takes to get the next one.
Diana Gabaldon has said that #10 will be the last of the series, and I'll admit I see her laying the framework for what is bound to be an epic ending.