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scotianostra · 7 months

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On October 15th 1943, Poet William Soutar died in Perth.

Soutar suffered from a gradual immobilising illness, ankylosing spondilitis, and from November 1930 he was permanently confined to bed. He spent his bed-bound days composing poetry, escaping through his imagination, and holding court to his many visitors and fellow writers, dressed in jacket and bow tie.

His life was short, his dying long and he bore his fate with cheerful dignity. William Soutar died after 13 long years, confined to a bed in the house of his parents, receiving visitors, writing poetry and bearing it all with strength and productivity, knowing he would never get better again.

Soutar was educated at Perth Academy. “That was my eighteenth year while yet the shadow of war was unacknowledged. Then I was one of the fleetest at the Academy; one of the strongest; first in my year at most things; I was writing poetry; I was in love; I was popular both in the classroom and the playing field. I never reached this condition of living fullness again except in brief moments.” This was written in 1937 when he was already permanently confined to bed.

William Soutar was full of life, a young student of English, a soldier in the Navy , an ardent swimmer and a poet with a deep love of the Scots language. He joined the Navy during the war, a young man full of strength and with a future.

During this, his most active time of his life, he caught food poisoning which went untreated. A fatal omission which caused his death eventually. He had to face his hardest battle after the end of World War I.

In October 1923 and again a year later, Soutar had X-rays and consultations with Professor John Fraser, whose final diagnosis of the young man’s trouble was that it was a form of spondylitis, too late to cure. Realising at last that the illness was to be permanent, Soutar recorded that ‘suddenly I halted in the dusk beside the pillars of West St. George’s, Edinburgh, and stood for a moment bareheaded, saying over to myself, “Now I can be a poet.”

And so he took to it like a duck to water.

His poetry was the prize wrested from a battle against death and despair which he fought for half a lifetime. Death defeated him in the end, but in the struggle with despair he was victorious; and even of his conquest by death he made a triumph, for in that last battle he expressed such fortitude and magnanimity as to make one proud of humankind.

Previously I have posted Coorie in the corner as the poem in text, and I stick by the poems as one of my favourites, but I have chosen to showcase his poem, Autobiography, which summarised his life – and anticipated his own death – in nine beautifully restrained lines.

Out of the darkness of the womb

Into a bed, into a room:

Out of a garden into a town,

And to a country, and up and down

The earth; the touch of women and men

And back into a garden again:

Into a garden; into a room;

Into a bed and into a tomb;

And the darkness of the world’s womb.

Read more about the poet William Soutar on a web page dedicated to him here https://www.williamsoutar.com/index.html

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inmyfxith · 2 years

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Get-together

Pairing: Lord John Grey x wife!reader; Claire Fraser x daughter!reader

A/N: Here, Brianna never met Lord John + There will probably be a part 2.

Warnings: None

Words: 1k8

-> Requested

Comfortably seated on one of the marble benches that decorated the large garden of the estate, you were facing an idyllic landscape straight out of one of Camille Corot's paintings. This inner reflection made you smile softly because in the time where you were now, this talented French painter had not even come out of his mother's womb yet. Time was frozen around you, the wind was blowing extraordinarily little which made the air dry but nevertheless not very stifling. The birds had fallen silent for a second and nothing could have made the moment you were living more soothing. You had been waiting for this time to come for a little over two years, two years in which you had gone through hell after making a decision that you could have avoided.

Emily, your maid, and great friend had run from home to bring you the last letter your husband sent from Wilmington, North Carolina. On one of his many trips, Lord John Grey had visited, as was his custom, one of his dearest friends, James Fraser. After exchanging a few small talks, John had the pleasure of talking about his recent marriage to a young woman whose appearance left no doubt about her Gaelic origins.

His words were well-chosen, sweet without being too suspicious in case someone from the outside intercepted the letter. Out of guilt for leaving you alone so often, he sent you regular letters that you took immense pleasure in answering. However, this time there was something about the way he wrote that was different from previous missives, as if something was haunting his mind. In fact, you did not know it yet, but John had just met your exact look-alike. That is why, instead of his usual little comments about the people he had met, John had written a paragraph asking you to join him in Wilmington with William. It seemed clear then that his more than singular experience with his friend had planted a seed of doubt in the Lord's mind.

And so, just a few weeks later, you and William had set foot in the indomitable city of Wilmington. The trip had been long, and more than a little unwarranted, but you were glad to have arrived in one piece. On the docks, amidst the dozens of red coats and fishermen, Lord John stood straight, his benevolent smile on his face as if he had spotted you before you even stepped off the boat. William had been the first to greet him before you approached him in turn. Out in public, you and John were trying to maintain a normal couple relationship, and unlike in your day, which did not mean holding hands on every ride or kissing every time you met. Your relationship was very conservative, and therefore highly respected by other British noble couples.

Relieved to see you off the boat, John gave you a few days in Wilmington to gather your strength before traveling to Fraser's Ridge.

On the way to James Fraser's lands, you, John, and William were playing a card game that had not yet been invented, President. Placing down your last card, you had just won the game and, to titillate John's gambling spirit, you had leaned over William's shoulder to observe his play. Waiting for your approval to lay down a card, the young lord finally laid down his last card in turn.

"That, young man, is called cheating." Seeing John's disappointed look at his defeat, you could not help but let out a small chuckle. Letting your gaze wander through the small window of the carriage, the first cabins quickly made their appearance. The few farmers and other settlers turned to look at you, or at the imposing carriage that they were not used to seeing. In an almost childish way, you waved and smiled at them, but their reaction was not what you expected. Instead of responding with a nod or simply ignoring you, the farmers' faces closed. Frowning, the expressions they returned to you seemed to be a mixture of incomprehension, doubt, and denial. Touched by their attitudes, you sank into your seat before closing the small curtain to hide the window.

"I thought the Scots were open minded people."

"They are not all like that. Besides, there's no doubt that once they meet you, they'll fall under your spell."

Taking your hand in his, John maintained eye contact. His gaze was soft and reassuring, as was the smile on his face.

"You really are impossible not to like." He knew better than anyone how to play with your emotions so that it was rare that you felt uncomfortable when you were in his presence. That was one of your husband's main qualities.

How you met was more than unusual. Two years earlier, you had emerged from the standing stones of Craigh Na Dun, Scotland, not really knowing what you were looking for. Unprepared, the redcoats quickly caught up with you after their authority in the area intensified. A woman, whom you did not know, had made accusations of witchcraft against you. A trial did take place, but it was not very fair. Witness after witness were brought before a judge who had already made the decision to burn you alive before you even entered the courtroom. However, as the cruel judgment was about to be handed down, a man, with one of his legs missing, raised his voice and, in an inexplicable way, had managed to bribe the judge to have you momentarily cleared. It was then that John had entered the scene. As a favor to the man who had saved you, Helwater had quickly become your new home and it was to silence the gossip that John had decided to make you a true English lady.

The carriage stopped in front of the imposing and rustic home of the Fraser family. Information about them was thin and came only from what John had told you. He was a Scotsman whom your husband had met when he oversaw Ardsmuir Prison and she was a talented doctor, which for the time you found very impressive. John was the first to step out of the carriage, then it was William's turn to appear before the proud Jamie Fraser.

Hidden behind a large hat adorned with French lace, you emerged from the vehicle with the help of John whose arm had been used for support. You were now facing your host. Clearing your face, your gaze met that of the owner of Fraser's Ridge whose face did not hide his astonishment.

"Brianna? I thought you were with your mother." His reflection chilled your blood, as much as the voice that emerged from behind your carriage and sounded so familiar.

"It's nice to see you again, Lord John. I..." It was impossible for you to believe, not after all that had happened to you in the past two years. And yet, there, stepping forward to position herself beside her husband, your mother seemed just as shocked as you were.

After a moment of hesitation, during which no one really dared to speak, you fell into each other's arms, your eyes filled with tears. When Brianna appeared, it only took John a few seconds to realize what was happening. The reunion with your family was particularly emotional, and while Jamie and John were discussing matters of some importance, your mother and sister had decided it would be a clever idea for you to take a walk and have a more intimate conversation.

Holding your mother's arm, she asked you a bunch of questions about why you had come to North Carolina.

"You mentioned the stones circle and, since we were in Scotland, I wanted to see it with my own eyes." Attentive to your words, Claire sat on a tree trunk to make sure she did not miss anything of your story.

"When I arrived, it was as if the main stone were calling to me, as if I was drawn to it and couldn't pull back. And I ended up touching it." Your way of speaking was calm, clear as John had taught you.

"Scotland was hostile, and no sooner had I set foot in Inverness than I was arrested for witchcraft. A picture of my face was plastered all over the city and one woman claimed loudly that she had seen me act like one.” Hearing what you had to say, Brianna lowered her head as if she felt guilty about something. Because it was not you the woman was accusing, it was Brianna. However, your faces and mannerisms were so identical that she had not bothered to see your differences. You then continued your story, trying not to leave out any details. And you concluded by talking about John and Helwater. This place had been the perfect place for you to adapt to your new era because of its location away from the city centers. And it was simply to remove the doubts that had arisen in John's mind that you had accepted the trip to North Carolina.

After much discussion, the sun had finally set, and you had returned together to Claire's house where Ms. Bug had prepared a room for you and Lord John. Contrary to your habits at Helwater, Lord John insisted that you share a room, claiming that he did not want the house cleaner to have extra work. He needed to be reassured about what had just happened. Facing a wall, and unable to lie to him any longer, you went into an endless monologue about why you never told him that part of your family was in North Carolina.

Sitting up in bed, knees pressed together against your chest, your eyes were focused on the fire that was warming the room. Throughout your tirade, John had not bothered to look at you. He was standing in front of the fireplace, and as he did not respond, a form of anxiety began to take hold of you.

"I know this story sounds insane, and I will totally understand if my place at Helwater was taken away from me..." John suddenly looked back at you, his eyebrows were furrowed but he did not seem angry.

"There was never any question of taking anything away from you. Just understand my position, a few months before I showed up here and your sister's looks caught my eye." He did not believe you, at least his doubts were still relatively present and visible. Letting out a deep sigh, he came however to lie down beside you. "Now I know why I like you so much." Sometimes you snooped around John's office when he was abroad. Most of the time it was just to borrow his letter opener or use his pens. However, one day you came across one of the letters he had wanted to send to a certain J. Fraser but never had the strength to do so because of the contents of the letter. So, you thought that John was not happy with you and that a woman, elsewhere, was the reason for his repeated trips. But it was not so, for several months you had been jealous of... your own father.

#outlander #outlander imagine #outlander imagines #lord john grey #lord john x reader #claire fraser #claire randall #claire beauchamp #claire fraser x reader #brianna x reader #brianna mackenzie #brianna fraser #jamie fraser x reader #james fraser #jamie fraser

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riversname · 2 years

Photo

William Fraser Garden (1856-1921, United Kingdom)

#19th century art #landscape painting #british art #mist #gloaming

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cputrbug · 10 months

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Outlander Episode 702

When Claire Fraser is disgusted to the point she’d like to take a shovel to your head, you know your life choices are problematic. Had she been armed with even a garden trowel, she would have brained Allan in the head and fed him to the pig. But Ian saves the day with a well placed arrow in the back. “He was right, Auntie. He had to die.” He and Claire bury the body and are caught by Mrs Bug who decides to jump in and help them. See ya’ll, she may have been the gossipmonger last season, but she’s nice! And she’ll help bury the bodies no questions asked. Oh, and hey thanks Ian...see you next week! Maybe..

This episode was in high gear - Episode 2 and they are almost 1/4 way through the book, which if 7a is Book 7 and 7b is Book 8 they are right on track. But nearly 2,000 pages of book crammed into 16 episodes means we are going at warp speed.

As the Macs are getting ready to go, Jamie gives Claire a gemstone in case she wants to go with them. He’s not brave enough to live without her, but brave enough to try for her sake. But, Claire’s not having it. She chucks it out the window and Jamie is all of us when he says, “you’re throwing it out?!” Yeah, Claire! Gemstones don’t grow on trees. Good luck finding that little black stone on the ground in the morning. Too bad she threw it, it might have come in handy later.

Lots of emotion this episode as we watch Bree meet William, and Jamie and LJ acknowledging that the war may mean they’ll never be on the same side again. Amanda is born (with dad and grandda present!) and after Claire discovers a heart problem, they decide her best chance is in the future. Heartbreaking scenes of Jamie and Bree saying goodbye. So sad. I’m not a crier, but even I needed a tissue at that one.

Back at the Big House, Claire breaks down as she realizes they’ve lost their whole family. No Fergus & Marsali, no Bree & RogerMac and no grandchildren. Jamie tries to comfort her while she sobs.

But as she does, Claire pulls herself together and life goes on. She’s walking up to the house one afternoon and gets the sense that something isn’t right. She goes into the house and that asshole Donner is there and he wants information and a gemstone. His gang brings in Jamie and it’s a good thing for Donner those guys had a hold on Jamie because when he hears Wendigo’s name he’s ready to rumble. Jamie tries a bit of acting on them saying that Claire hid the gemstones so they can’t kill her, but J&C are out of practice and Donner doesn’t believe them. The gang starts ransacking the surgery and they break open the ether bottle. Donner lights a match and BOOM! There goes the Big House.

Some other observations:

They introduced the French gold. Jamie and Arch going back and forth in gaelic. Oooh, plot point! It’s a big deal in the book, but I expect it will be a speed bump next week as we move on.

Lizzie’s throuple is going strong. If the Ridge is scandalized there’s no time for their shenanigans. They’re going to just have to deal.

William! One of my favorite characters. The actor playing William was pretty good for the short scene he was in. I’m looking forward to later in the season - he’s got some good stuff coming up.

Overall a very good episode. Just an emotional wringer though. Looking forward to next week.

#Outlander spoilers

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