Faith, spiders, and balls

I love the humor of Outlander. It’s such a rich story in so many ways, but it’s usually the laughter I enjoy most. You only have to scroll through my twitter timeline, or watch one of my musical recaps to know this is true.

But during this season of Outlander, I’ve been crying a lot. I’ve literally cried during every single episode. So many tears in fact, I’ve dubbed Season 2 the “Year of Whisky and Tissues.” Last week’s Je Suis Prest, episode 209, made it 9 in a row, and I can’t even comprehend what will come in the final few episodes.

To be fair,  I cry when I read Diana Gabaldon’s books, too. One of the things that draws me to her story is the stunning range of emotions it makes me feel as I read. And the Tall Ship Production version is certainly maintaining and expanding upon that tradition. There are so many “real life” reasons to cry, that it sometimes seems silly to cry over a fictional story. But I believe my tears are the most honest expression of appreciation for such masterful storytelling.

Faith

What I experienced with Faith, episode 207,  was beyond what I call “normal” Outlander tears. It’s been a few weeks,  and I find myself still thinking about the impact of that episode. I was trying to explain to a non-Outlander friend (aka a “heathen”), how much the story and Caitriona Balfe’s performance moved me. I immediately choked up, and the tears began to flow. My friend was taken aback, and I could see that she didn’t understand why a fictional story, made into a fictional TV show, could make me cry  three weeks after watching it. She’s gotten used to my over-the-top excitement & joy of the show, but this was unexpected.

It got me thinking about what made Faith so powerful in a season full of emotional drama. There was just this stunning combination of a heartrending story, written by Toni Graphia, along with phenomenal acting. The sheer range of Caitriona Balfe in this one hour was spectacular. And when we finally saw Sam Heughan, his performance was a perfect mirror of her heartbreak. As wonderful as this whole season has been, I honestly believe this one episode will affect me as deeply when I watch it next week, next year, or even next decade.

So that brought me to the thought that besides the Outlander books and show, there are other instances of this kind of storytelling which cause a visceral reaction in me. Here are two which can drag that emotion out of my heart every single time, and make me weep just thinking about them.

Spiders

I think the first time I realized how deeply a writer’s words could move me was when I read Charlotte’s Web by E.B. White.  From the first page I was hooked, and felt such a roller coaster of emotions, leading to great joy when Wilbur was saved. Then it all came crashing down.

“She never moved again. Next day, as the Ferris wheel was being taken apart and the race horses were being loaded into vans and the entertainers were packing up their belongings and driving away in their trailers, Charlotte died. The Fair Grounds were soon deserted. The sheds and buildings were empty and forlorn. The infield was littered with bottles and trash. Nobody, of the hundreds of people that had visited the Fair, knew that a grey spider had played the most important part of all. No one was with her when she died.”

“Wilbur never forgot Charlotte. Although he loved her children and grandchildren dearly, none of the new spiders ever quite took her place in his heart. She was in a class by herself. It is not often that someone comes along who is a true friend and a good writer. Charlotte was both.”

Even as I child I marveled at the words that made me cry when a spider died. Later, as a fourth grade teacher, I would read this book aloud to my students. When I approached the end of the book, I would explain to them that they would see me cry. And not a single tear or a few sniffs, I would be blubbering.  I used that as a tool for us to discuss why this book made me care so much about a spider and a pig. And when I cried as I read, I hope they understood that a good story makes you feel deeply, and that’s okay.

Bonus: This story is so wonderful that even the author had trouble reading Charlotte’s death aloud. Listen to this NPR story to hear E.B. White reading that passage.

Balls

It doesn’t always have to be a book that gets to me. The storytelling in the film Cast Away took my breath away. Much of the story took place on an island, with Tom Hanks all alone, delivering a tour de force performance. But he wasn’t really alone. He had a friend: Wilson. A volleyball.

 

Nothing in my life had prepared me for the devastation I would feel when a volleyball drifted away across the ocean. I mean it’s only a ball, right? Then Hanks yelled out “Wilson!” and my heart broke, as if I too was losing my only friend in the world.

Just looking at this picture brings all those feelings flooding back. I still mourn the loss of that ball. What a amazing example of how great storytelling can draw from you the strongest of emotions.

 

Outlander

As I said in the beginning, I have been on a crying jag throughout season 2. Just like the books they are based on, the show Outlander has reached in and touched me in a profound way. Based on what I know of the books, I have a feeling that Faith will be joined by a few more episodes as examples of storytelling I’ll long remember. I am dead certain that there won’t be enough whisky or tissues.

And I don’t think I can pay the show a higher compliment than that.