An Echo in the Bone

“He and Jaimie Fraser had done the best they could to safeguard those they loved, and despite his melancholy, he was comforted at the thought that they were united in that kinship of responsibility.”

Estranged from Jamie over their political differences and unable to act on his feelings for him, Lord John Grey finds connection by caring for Jamie’s family whenever he can. The feeling of “kinship” John experiences both nods to John’s role as stepfather to Jamie’s son William and foreshadows his marriage to Claire for her protection.

“There’s a reason why the hero never dies, you know […] When the worst happens, someone still has to decide what to do.”

Claire appeals to Jamie’s sense of responsibility to shake him from the shock of Murdina’s death. Claire, a former combat nurse, is experienced at performing complex tasks under immense pressure, and throughout the novel Claire and Jamie alternately support one another through tough decisions. Claire and Jamie’s love is built upon their shared resilience and strength. 

“Perhaps it was only that the sense of reaching out to something larger than yourself gives you some feeling that there is something larger.”

Praying with Ian, Claire muses on the comforts of religion. The time travelers in the series often confront questions of fate, predestination, and agency. To Claire, the idea of a “larger” force at work alleviates some of the responsibility she feels to change or enable the events of history; even if she doesn’t understand the greater meaning of her actions, she can be sure there is some purpose.

“It was a time, two hundred years ago, such tales often began. Or the people were returned to their own place—but two hundred years past the time they had left. Two hundred years.”

Roger notes that the period that he and the other time travelers pass through is always roughly 200 years—just like in stories. This coincidence emphasizes the theme of fate and reinforces that superstitions often develop out of misunderstood or poetically interpreted scientific fact.

“There will be times, William—when your own honor dictates that you cannot follow an order. In such circumstances, you must follow your own judgment, and be prepared to live with the consequences.”

Just as the time traveling characters confront the dilemma of fate and choice, so William confronts the final barrier to his adulthood: accepting responsibility for his choices. His stepfather’s warning at the beginning of Part 2 foreshadows how William will struggle to reconcile his loyalty to the British army with his desire to help Claire and Denny escape captivity and his nascent feelings for Rachel.

“I cannot be sure how the Things that I know will come about. Am I meant to be in some Way Part of this? Should I hold back, will that somehow damage or prevent the Success of our Desires? [...] And in the end, it does not matter. I am what God has made me, and must deal with the Times in which He has placed me.”

Although Jamie is not a time traveler himself, his knowledge of future events inspires the same crisis of fate and choice that Claire, Bree, and Roger experience. Jamie neatly articulates the crux of their quandary: is it possible to change the course of history and if so, does one have a responsibility to do so? Ultimately, Jamie accepts that he may never discover the answer.

“And you did have to let a son go, to make his own way in the world, no matter what it cost you; Hal had told him that, more than once.”

Lord John Grey struggles to accept that William has become a man and must make his own choices. John’s urge to protect William is directly in conflict with his desire to see William come into himself. Gabaldon portrays parenting as another example of how characters must accept the limits of their own agency.

“He could write a book, one that no one else could write. But not as a historian.”

Having lost his ability to sing and experiencing a crisis of faith, Roger struggles with how to meaningfully apply what he learned in the 18th century to his 20th century life. Roger was also a historian before traveling to the past, and this quote shows that Roger feels alienated from all his earlier concepts of self.

“Though I suppose I oughtn’t to complain; if you hadn’t found it, you might never have come back. And while there are a lot of things I wish hadn’t happened as a result of your coming—I can’t ever regret that you know your father, and he you.”

In a letter to Bree, Claire considers the costs and consequences of Tom Christie’s inaccurate death notice in the Wilmington Gazette. This moment encapsulates the tension between fate and choice; Tom’s erroneous notice was an instance of fate that precipitated Bree’s decision to travel through time and try to change the circumstances of her parents’ deaths. Despite the many challenges that ensued, Claire has faith that the purpose of agency and fate converging was for Bree to meet Jamie.

“For a long time [...] when I was small, I pretended to myself that I was the bastard of some great man. All orphans do this, I think [...] It makes life easier to bear, to pretend that it will not always be as it is, that someone will come and restore you to your rightful place in the world […] Then I grew older still, and discovered that, after all, it was true. I am the son of a great man.”

In Fergus’s moving speech to Jamie, Fergus models the kind of self-acceptance that both Ian and William struggle to achieve in the novel. All three men define themselves by family relationships—Ian by marriage and William by his presumed lineage—yet Gabaldon uses Fergus to explore how identity is created equally through found kinship and biological kinship.

“‘Call it fate,’ I said gently, ‘or call it bad luck. But it wasn’t your fault. Or hers. Not mine. Nor Jamie’s.”

Claire says exactly what Ian needs to hear because she understands his experience. Claire and Jamie had a stillborn daughter, and Claire’s absolution of Ian’s guilt is as much for herself as it is for her nephew. This quote reinforces Claire’s belief that other forces shape life beyond individual will.

“If thee thinks the spirit of God is necessarily logical, thee know Him better than I do.”

Rachel responds to William’s suggestion that Denny’s distinction between independence and rebellion is moot; one cannot expect independence to be achieved without war. Rachel’s gently humorous response acknowledges her acceptance of inconsistency and foreshadows her own willingness to accept Ian’s love despite his violent nature. Rachel is comfortable with less than perfect answers.

“Do women hold back the evolution of such things as freedom […] out of fear for themselves and their children? Or do they in fact inspire such things […] by providing the things worth fighting for? Not merely fighting to defend, either, but to propel forward, for a man wanted more for his children than he would ever have.”

Jamie considers his own motives for supporting the American Revolution and the potential cost to his family. Here, Jamie manages to reconcile his entrenchment in the gender norms of his century with his love for his family, convincing himself that the war he fights in is ultimately in the service of his children. Of course, Jamie fails to consider that the women and children in his life have their own ability to fight battles. 

“It hadn’t escaped either of us that attempting to interfere with history could have serious unintended consequences—if in fact it could be done at all. We had no notion what it was that might turn Arnold from patriot […] to the traitor he would be.”

Claire acknowledges that part of the danger of interfering with history is that it is impossible to know all the contributing influences on a given historical incident. Claire and Jamie’s prior failures to change significant events have made them cautious to attempt further interference.

“And yet, it was his bone-deep urge to protect that had led him to abandon all his Christian principles—on the eve of ordination, no less—and set out in pursuit of Stephen Bonnet.”

Roger’s desire to connect to “his own sense of himself as a […] protector, provider” (864) is complicated by his inability to reconcile a confrontational concept of masculinity with his religious values. Roger cannot accept that abandoning his wife to Bonnet’s abuse would have been the more morally defensible choice. Here, Roger’s dilemma echoes Rachel Hunter’s ambivalent attitude toward violence done in self-defense; where Roger insists on reconciliation, Rachel allows for two potential truths to coexist.

“It seems rather paradoxical […] that a process so wasteful of lives and substance should then result in an explosion of babies and business.”

In a letter to Bree, Claire reflects on the nature of war. In her centuries-spanning lifetime, Claire has experienced both world wars, the Jacobite rising, and now the American Revolution, and she recognizes the same pattern of prosperity that follows each episode of violence. Gabaldon’s consistent depiction of the nature of mass conflict speaks to the possible immutability of history and potentially human nature.

“‘And saw the skull beneath the skin,’ I quoted, tying a turpentine-soaked rag about my head, just under my nose, ‘and breastless creatures under ground leaned backward with a lipless grin.’”

Claire quotes T. S. Eliot’s poem, “Whispers of Immortality” as she prepares General Simon Fraser’s body for burial. The poem explores the interrelation of sex, love, and death, and posits that death is the most important of human experiences. As Claire tends to the dead, having just returned to Scotland to support the love of her life, she considers her own mortality and its relation to her great romance.

“I wondered what sort of man—or woman, perhaps?—had lain here, leaving no more than an echo of their bones, so much more fragile that the enduring rocks that sheltered them.”

Using language that nearly matches the title of the novel, Claire wonders about whose remains were placed under an ancient cairn. This observation echoes the novel’s exploration of memory and the endurance of individual identity—what is left of a person after all those who remember them are also gone? What memories might the cairn stones perpetuate?

“Though I didna ken she was a lassie, he added silently, remembering with a small odd pang that now and then he had sat there […] imagining sometimes a daughter warm in his arms, but now and then feeling a tiny son on his knee and pointing out the stars to travel by, explaining to him how the hunting was done and the prayer ye must say when ye killed for food. But he’d told those things to Brianna later—and to Jem. The knowledge wouldn’t be lost. Would it be of use, though?”

Jamie wonders if the things he dreamed about teaching his children will be of any use to his family in the future. Unable to fully understand the world his daughter and grandson live in, Jamie cannot be sure how he will be remembered, or what effect he has had on their lives.

“Please believe me. If I could do anything for Ian, I’d give my soul to do it. But I’m not magic; I haven’t any power. Only a little knowledge, and not enough.”

Claire confronts the limits of her ability, as both she and Jenny are frustrated by her inability to save Ian despite the extraordinary circumstances of her life. The irony that Claire could travel through time but not save Ian from his disease reveals the limits of an individual’s power to resist fate.

“If life was fair, then what?”

Despite the struggles of his family and friends, the elder Ian Murray has reconciled himself to his own death. Although what he is experiencing may seem unfair, Ian insists that it would be worse if he somehow deserved his illness; like Claire at the beginning of the novel, powerlessness for Ian is a comfort.

“I love you […] I’ll bring him back. Believe me, Bree—I’ll see you again. In this world.”

Roger’s parting words to Bree before traveling into the past are nearly identical to Claire and Jamie’s parting words in Part 6: “I love you. I’ll see you again” (1000). Gabaldon’s deliberate repetition invites comparison between the two relationships as fated and irrefutable while hinting that this separation may lead to calamity—as Claire and Jamie’s did.

“‘You are a stinking Papist,’ he said, very precisely, ‘and your baptismal name is James.’ The ghost of regret crossed his face and then was gone. ‘It was the only name I had a right to give ye,’ he said quietly, eyes on his son. ‘I’m sorry.’”

With much emotion, Jamie admits to William that he is his biological father. Jamie calling his son a Papist is meant to imply William’s innately Scottish identity, while also referring to the secret Baptism, the only rite Jamie was able to share with his son. By referring to the “only name,” Jamie expresses his regret that he could not claim William openly as his child.