The long awaited reunion of Jamie and Claire is just as powerful as their initial romance, and in some ways even more intimate.
After a brief yet heartbreaking glimpse of life without one another Jamie and Claire are reunited, and though married their courtship begins anew, only this time rather than discussing their respective childhoods and families they explore the pain they felt at being apart and the elation they feel at being together, each cautiously hoping that the other still possess the same love they shared decades earlier. Their dialogue is so raw that I could visualize the absence of joy, laughter, trust and even fear in Jamie’s life without Claire. How lonely and painful would it be to live a life devoid of emotion? Any emotion, including fear, because if you’ve nothing to lose you’ve nothing to fear. And when that emotion tentatively returns as Jamie lets himself feel joy for the first time in years I was scared for him, because as Jamie knows when you open yourself to true happiness you also expose yourself to true loss, and if you’ve experienced such a loss of course you’d be fearful of having to live through it again. You’d wonder if you could survive it. How fragile a balance would it be to feel fear only because you have something to feel happy about? Wondering if the best thing in your life is temporary has to be the most painful question I can imagine.
Although it’s not specifically stated I get the impression that the witty charm Jamie once possessed had vanished, or at least been heavily subdued, in Claire’s absence, so one of the best aspects of Voyager for me was to see that humor come forth. Whether it be commentary on politics, family or what Claire’s presence does to Jamie’s manhood, the mischievous charm that makes Jamie so intriguing is as present in this book as it was in the first, and I enjoyed reading about him in his element, as the person others look to for guidance and leadership. He’s such a commanding personality in this regard, yet he’s also completely vulnerable when it comes to his wife, and even into the third book I am still intrigued by the idea that this imposing figure is privately so exposed.
But just as in the first two books life with Jamie is never boring, and it’s not long before chaos ensues. This chaos is more personal than political and true to form both Claire and Jamie let their sense of obligation dictate most of their actions. Though this frustrated me in Dragonfly, largely because there was so much obligation going around, this time it was not overbearing, so it felt like natural extensions of their personality. Jamie is as commanding and chivalrous as always, which is somewhat of a paradox considering his actions are often executed with a nod to his boyish sense of humor, treating conflict like a game so long as he feels no real harm will come to his wife or his men. Claire is as determined as ever to heal everyone she comes into contact with, cursing up a storm along the way, her compassion and sense of duty outweighing everything else. At times you want to reach into the pages and shake her as if that might get her to think before she acts so she stops putting herself in precarious positions, but I love how commanding she is when healing people, and I feel kind of proud to be a woman when I read about her courage and determination to do the right thing because she’s such a great representation of what a strong woman can do.
Voyager offers a brief introduction to Jamie’s nephew Ian, who is a hilarious reminder of a young Jamie. Ian has the same warrior’s mentality that draws Jamie to adventure and chivalry, but without the scholarly intellect that Jamie possesses. Consequently Ian’s best efforts to emulate his uncle often land him in sticky situations, much like Claire seems to always attract trouble. As the author notes perhaps that’s why Jamie likes Ian so much; he reminds him of Claire. I think that’s why I like Ian too.
Michele Lenard 