Showing posts with label Diana Gabaldon. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Diana Gabaldon. Show all posts

Saturday, September 27, 2014

Outlander - The Beginning Of An Obsession?

So, I started the first novel by Diana Gabaldon. Not just because ninety percent of the comments and messages and tweets I've had in the last couple of days have been incredibly supportive, but they also made it very clear I owe it to myself to read the Outlander series. And I suppose it's a bit odd for me to be part of an Outlander group without having actually read the books. Fiddle-faddle, I march to the beat of my own defective drum.

I've only read the first chapter, but I wanted to let the world know I'm diving in feet first. Well, technically head first, since I read with my eyes and they are located on my face, which is on my head. Don't worry, I won't be writing a post about every single chapter, but the first one is important and for some reason it's turned into Outlander Week here on my wee little blog.

Here are my thoughts in no particular order:

Partway through, Frank and Claire are talking and Frank mentions giants. It reminded me of when I went to Ireland and my girlfriends and I took a day trip up to Northern Ireland to see the Giant's Causeway, which are these truly amazing interlocking columns of basalt rock. Absolutely stunning to see in real life. Anyhow, as legend says the columns of rock are the remains of a causeway the giants built. The Irish Giant Fionn MacCool (his last name was more Irishy in Gaelic) was challenged to fight Benandonner, a Scottish Giant. They built the causeway so the giants could meet in the middle to battle.

There are two versions of the story, one where they fight and Fionn wins, but their wrestling destroys the causeway. In the other version, Fionn sees the size of Benandonner and decides to hide. His wife dresses him up as a baby and tucks him in a cradle. When Benandonner sees the massive baby, he figures his father must be the biggest giant ever to walk the earth and he flees back to Scotland, destroying the causeway in his wake so Fionn could not follow. I remember standing on the basalt columns and looking out across the water, thinking how one day I will visit the Scottish isle of Staffa and go to Fingal's Cave to see the columns on the other side.

No, there is no point in my sharing this story with you. Just thought it was an interesting sort of tie in.

Oh, that's just me sitting on some basalt rocks in Northern Ireland. 

The author can certainly spin a captivating yarn. Her wordsmithyness (no, that isn't a real word) is astounding. Truly. Sometimes you read books other people are applauding and your brain would rather shut down than read another word because the sentence structure and paragraph composition is appalling. (You can probably piece together two such books on your own, so I won't give you any examples.) That being said, Mrs Gabaldon is not just a good writer, but she's leading the pack. Already I know this novel is going to be well-researched and intriguing. This actually means a lot coming from me because I happen to be super picky and critical. Mostly because I have a hard time turning my editor brain off when reading for enjoyment. 

Claire seems to be a spitfire, something I admire in a woman, and I enjoy that. Also, she cussed when she burned herself with the tea, and rest assured I'd do the same thing, so I can relate to her. I know I will learn more about her relationship with Frank, but I'm not sold on it. Mostly because ...

... I don't like Frank, and I'm not sure whether I am supposed to or not. For one, I didn't like his reaction when she swore. Fine, it was in front of a professional man, but she burned her bloody hand. The way he acted afterwards made it seem as though he considered Claire uncouth and her behaviour unacceptable. The entire chapter, I kept thinking him pompous. There were moments where he was nearly endearing, except the way he became so enraptured by what he was thinking and saying annoyed me, as if he couldn't spare her any consideration. Then, he questioned her faithfulness, which gave me the impression he himself had strayed. Yes, I know this is only the first chapter, but I already am not a Fan O' Frank. 

Lastly, (spoiler alert) I know the ghost is Jamie. 

14% of the way through!

Tuesday, September 23, 2014

Outlander, Breasts And Being A Judgmental Asshole

There's a group on Facebook I'm in, mostly because I can be offensive and my offensiveness is appealing to some. Everyone in the group has something in common, they are all avid fans of Outlander, the books and television show by Diana Gabaldon, and used to be part of another group called 'Outlander Series', which has a following of like thirty-four thousand people. I'm not a member of this OS group, but I've heard a lot about it and feel I probably wouldn't fit in. From what I gather, there are a couple of control freaks at the helm of the ship, exercising and abusing their admin 'power' to censor, delete and ban whatever and whomever they please. The issue is, they aren't actually moderating everyone, just the people they don't seem to like.

As someone who has been on the receiving end of ridiculous moderation before, I know it's a losing battle. In the end, you have to shrug and let the narrow-minded admins wield their swords of hypocrisy and ignorance, and laugh if you get cut. This blog isn't actually about Facebook fan page wars, but it seemed like a good jumping off point. Now all I have to do is tie this in with ugly boobs. This seems like a feat all in itself, but there is actually a direct correlation between Outlander, Facebook fan pages and overzealous moderators. Here it is: 

Apparently one of the threads posted on the Outlander Series page was a statement about Cait's breasts. For those of you who don't know, Caitriona Balfe is the actress who plays Claire Randall, the most important character in the entire series, if you aren't counting Jamie, the handsome Scottish-man with a shock of auburn  curls you want nothing more than to run your fingers through. Anyhow, there has been much discussion over the steaminess of the show, but a lot of terrible comments about Claire's body. Not Jamie's, no. The male lead is, of course, perfect. Unfortunately, there are a lot of women (why do we love tearing our sex to shreds) bashing Cait - her breast size and unevenness, her body type, lack of curves, imperfect teeth, face, eye colour. You name it, someone is saying something negative about it.

Now, the OS page has a new rule about being mean. Basically, you aren't allowed to instigate fights, bicker, bait or say jerky things. The problem is, when a friend of mine commented about how the bashing of Cait's breasts was body shaming and letting the post stand was hypocritical she got a virtual slap on the wrist, and her comment was deleted. Gasp, right? How could she be so, so, so ... wait a second, she wasn't being argumentative at all and was really only stating the obvious. As it goes, apparently it's okay to lambaste a celebrity. After all, it's only an opinion.

So, when you make nasty comments to your peers it's considered bullying, but if you do it to celebrities it's just having an opinion? Bit confusing, no? The thing is, tearing apart someone's physical appearance is the weakest form of insult. It lacks creativity and, in this case in particular, reeks of jealousy. Whenever I see these sorts of lowbrow critiques, I shake my head and curse the internet for what it has become - a breeding ground for negativity and impossible beauty standards, a place that perpetuates the unrealistic expectations women are already trying to live up to.

Now, let's look at Cait:


Um. Yeah. So, if this woman is ugly, mousy, or unattractive, then I am down right hideous. Let's drop the absurdity for a moment and face the fact, this woman is gorgeous. A classic beauty. Perfect cheekbones. Wry smile. Shapely lips. Blue eyes as deep as the ocean. Still, it doesn't seem to matter how attractive a woman is in this world, there will always be someone who has something mean to say. There seems to be this aggravating desire to put females down, to keep them under thumb, and ensure they know their place. Instead of celebrating one another, we (being women) appear to be going out of our way to bash and wound each other. Yes, men certainly receive criticisms, but they never seem to be so hurtful, personal, or abundant.

To nitpick the evenness of breasts is so mind-numbing and ridiculous. The last time I checked, most of our boobs aren't the same size. In fact, a lot of women are a whole cup different (I actually know a girl with an A and a C!). The sad part is, even if Cait's breasts had the symmetry to make a geometry aficionado swoon, then there would just be something else to complain about. Nipple size. Weight. Colour of areola. Heft. Amount of downy hair. Angle of under boob curve. Because if it isn't one thing, it's another.

If you ask me, we put far too much stock in appearance, especially when the course of all our roads is one that leads downhill. Eventually, we age, get wrinkly, spotted, have every part of us sag and dimple. This is why I am so baffled by those who are making these superficial observations, do they honestly feel they are so attractive, so put together and presentable, so striking and flawless that they can rip apart someone else? Do they really feel they have the right to criticize? All these put-downs and judgments aren't just opinions, either. They are malicious and hateful, bullying on a global scale, and condoned by those who laugh and agree.

These behaviours are so often excused when directed at celebrities. As if the rich and famous have ceased being people with feelings, who hurt and battle body issues of their own. We've all heard it before, to treat others the way we wish to be treated and if we don't have anything nice to say, then we shouldn't say anything at all. And yet, the callous comments keep on coming. Whether it is the mask of anonymity the world wide web provides, or the illusion of sneaking by unnoticed, I can't honestly say why people feel it their place to judge others, famous or not. All I know for sure is, these sorts of criticisms are petty and boring, unimaginative and lacking in substance - not to mention unfounded. In the end, they reveal more about the person spewing them than the target they are intended for.

Even more confounding are the people moaning about the series and actors they supposedly love. I mean, why complain about something you like? All the so-called 'fans' of this Outlander series who are griping and whining about authenticity, deviations from the plot and how the actors are different from the books. If you don't like it, don't watch. It's unrealistic for a movie or television show to be identical to the book. Trust me, I'm an avid Game Of Thrones fan and actually enjoy it when plots and characters differ from the original. It keeps things interesting.

No one asked my opinion, but I feel the need to share it freely. It's time we dropped the body shaming (big, small, curvy, skinny, old, young, black and white) and stopped the moaning. Whether it is done unintentionally or not, it's getting tedious and I am so over it. None of us are perfect, so it isn't our place to point out anyone else's imperfections. If you don't want your breasts judged by the world, then don't judge other people's. If you aren't enjoying the show, stop tuning in each week. Always keep in mind, these characters aren't real, they are all made up. You can't marry them. They don't love you. And while I can appreciate escapism and being enamoured with a book or particular beau, fiction should never be substituted for real life, if it is you're heading into unstable mental realms.

For a show I don't watch and books I've never read, the Outlander Series has seriously got me riled up.

Tell me you don't want to run your fingers through those curly locks?