Written in My Own Heart's Blood

Throughout the narrative, Gabaldon explores the redemptive power of grace against the limitations of forgiveness. The act of forgiveness frees the transgressor from guilt, but additionally frees the victims to leave behind their trauma and continue with their life. However, forgiveness is not always exoneration, which entails the offender to fully take responsibility for their actions by exhibiting remorse and making a sincere commitment to never repeat the transgression again. Instead, Gabaldon creates instances when forgiveness is simply release; the victim releases their own feelings of hurt and powerlessness without forgiving the act.

In other situations, forgiveness is unobtainable. For instance, Jamie’s guilt regarding his part in the death of William’s mother (Geneva) is ambiguous; though he loves William and doesn’t regret his conception, he still prays for forgiveness for his part in Geneva’s death. William also sees his own part in Jane’s death and though he pleads for forgiveness over her dead body, he will never be able to exonerate himself from his guilt. The granting of forgiveness comes from the living, and both Jamie and William are limited by the deaths of Geneva and Jane. However, William can forgive both his mother and Jamie for their night together, understanding how it might have been for them once he sees Jamie as an honorable man. He also forgives his mother, telling Jamie “she was reckless, beautiful, careless…she took chances” to which Jamie replies, “She had courage” (1059). It is Jamie’s small homage to his mother that amplifies William’s feelings of loss, redirecting the rage he feels about the circumstances of his birth to a less selfish outpouring of grief for his mother.

Something approaching forgiveness is possible for Ian; Rachel accepts his violent nature and grants him forgiveness for the ruthless killing of an unarmed Abenaki scout. Her forgiveness springs from a Quaker belief in accepting and respecting individual’s uniqueness. She can exonerate Ian’s violence in part because it stems from his need to protect her; he refuses to place her under the threat of the Abenaki’s revenge. Rachel’s forgiveness is like grace; it is unconditional and seemingly divinely inspired. Gabaldon describes the moment of forgiveness as if Rachel communes with God before granting absolution, “her gaze rested on his own face [...] as though she were looking through him [...] Finally a shiver went over Rachel, as though she shook herself awake, and she put a hand on his forehead” (722). Rachel accepts the complications of Ian’s twin heritages and takes up the burden jointly with him when she tells him, “I think we can’t wait any longer to be married [...], I will not have thee face such things alone. These are bad times, and we must be together” (722). The line between forgiveness and acceptance blurs, however, as she is not the direct victim of Ian’s violence. He is not asking forgiveness for the death of the Abenaki, which he believes necessary, but for his lapse in character that gave rise to the violence, which he had promised to abstain from whenever possible.

The love dynamic between John, Claire, and Jamie has layers of forgiveness woven through it. John betrays Claire when he tells Jamie that she and he slept together. Both John and Claire unwittingly betray Jamie when they have sex, even though it is an act that permeated in grief and fueled by alcohol. Jamie betrays John when he assaults him in the woods and leaves him to the Rebels to execute. Jamie’s eventual forgiveness of John does not restore their friendship; he grants John forbearance; he forgives without forgetting. It is John’s admission that he was mentally having sex with Jamie when he coupled with Claire that hurts Jamie, raising as it does the specter of his rape at the hands of Jack Randall. The partial forgiveness means that Jamie understands John’s motivations, but no longer trusts him as a friend.

With Claire, however, Jamie forgives utterly, which demonstrates the depth of trust and love he has for her. His declaration that she could sleep with the entire English army, and he would still love her is completely exonerative, but he is only able to forgive so completely because he has utter trust in the depth of her reciprocal love. However, Jamie is unwilling to forgive Claire’s rapist even though she is attempting to; the bounty of his forgiveness extends only to those he loves. Jamie’s character is bound by the gender expectations of the 17th century; he extends himself to protect those most vulnerable and is merciless against predators who prey upon his family. Claire, meanwhile, experiences the freedom of release independent of Jamie’s vengeance; she does not forgive the act, but she releases the trauma and the hold it has upon her, accepting that the rape happened and no longer allowing it to define her. Claire also exonerates John for his confession to Jamie, which was an altruistic act that nevertheless infringed on her right to disclose the matter herself.

In examining each character’s capacity for betrayal and forgiveness, Gabaldon posits that forgiveness, is not solely a boon for the trespasser, it also provides a release for the victim from blame and anger. As illustrated by both Claire and William’s anguish, holding on to the shame and rage of betrayal creates a dynamic where the sin of the transgressor afflicts the victim with suffering far beyond the initial act of betrayal.