Bound by desire...

I probably should've written my reactions to Diana Gabaldon's Breath of Snow and Ashes before I read Echo in the Bone. The story so captivated me, however, I just kept reading from one book straight into the next. This is the Diana Gabaldon we've all come to know and love. The place-marker pace of The Fiery Cross is gone and Jamie, Claire, Brianna, Roger and everyone else are off at breakneck speeds once more. Both books keep up the energetic pace and...wait. I'm getting ahead of myself.

One of the hallmarks is a good story is evident when the reader can't get the story out of his/her head, even when doing mundane tasks like laundry or grocery shopping or teaching a class. Okay, the last isn't mundane, but shows the depth to which these characters and the events that happen to them (or they cause to happen, which is more often the case with Jamie) stick with the reader. Breath of Snow and Ashes has a scene that made me put down the book and sit and think about it for a good, long time.

I need to put in a small spoiler here, so if you haven't read the book and don't want any spoilers, stop reading at this point and go here to read something on a completely different topic.

(I'm putting my badge here as a way of helping to put space before the spoiler. You've been warned!)

SPOILER ALERT:

Claire is abducted; Jamie comes to her rescue (he darn well better!). But when she's given the opportunity to take justice on the men, Jamie steps forward and says, "I kill for her."

The entire incident really made me stop and think about my relationship with my husband. Would he kill for me? Would I want him to? The question is, perhaps, moot in 21st century America, but the question still lingers. Just how far would you go for your spouse? What are the limits of what love should do?

END SPOILER ALERT

A more appropriate question for today is "Would you fight for me?" since today's courts of law would not take vigilante justice kindly. And "fighting" doesn't mean with fisticuffs either anymore. When I was poorly treated by a medical so-called professional and came home in tears because of it, my husband immediately went to the phone, called the office and laid them out in lavendar. He got me an apology from the office manager (poor woman, she wasn't the one at fault, but I applaud her stepping up), a new appointment with a different doctor and most importantly, made me feel like I was the most important person in the world to him.

And at the heart of it all, isn't that truly the kernal of truth Diana Gabaldon has illustrated in this book? That marriage isn't just flowers and candy and nights of hot sex (although none of those should be discounted, by any means!), but that marriage means going to bat for one another no matter how much needs to be done. When you get right down to it, marriage is holding one's spouse as more important than oneself.

Thank you, Diana G, for reminding me of that.

Play safe,

Diana H.