R&R: Classics-- Margaret Mitchell

“Gone with the Wind” is famous—both as a book and a movie. I’ve always recognized the name, but hadn’t really read the summary. All I knew was that it was reputed to be “the best romance of all time,” and that one of the characters was a woman named Scarlet O’Hara.

The book was thick, and, as I’ve had bad experiences with thick classics (War and Peace), I wasn’t exactly eager to borrow it. But, one day, I just grabbed it off the shelf, thinking that I might as well try it.

Now, the classics have surprised me a lot. Many were so much more interesting, profound, and just plain good than I’d expected. I suppose that I should have started expecting the unexpected, (now there’s a tongue twister), but I didn’t.

Consequently, this wonderful new book caught me completely off guard.

Gone with the Wind
Written May 28, 2010

Read May 11, 2010

Margaret Mitchell is a writer from the South, and “Gone with the Wind,” is a book written from the unique viewpoint of a wealthy Southern lady during the time of the Civil War. The perspectives and viewpoints of the characters are very different from those novels written from the Yankees/slaves’ point of view.

To put it simply, it was both extremely fascinating and insightful.

For example, Scarlet feels blind fury when three women from the North exclaim in shock that “they would never hire a n--- to watch over their children.” She feels indignation, having been raised by African Americans, and thinks to herself that, “now that the Yankees have free the slaves, they don’t want them anymore.”

She revises her conclusion later, determining that yes, the Yankees did want the slaves—but only to vote their politicians into office.

I’d never thought of the possible hypocrisy of the winning side, or about how Northerners might have influenced the slaves to vote them into office, and how unfair it must have seemed to the Southerners. It’s so easy to label the sides of the war with black and white, not realizing that the truth is that most of it was pure grey.

There were rapists, looters, deserters, and cowards on both sides. Both sides committed horrible crimes, and both sides were made out of men—men who were flawed, human beings. There were men from both sides who were fighting for their principals. There were men from both sides who were fighting for their families.

Through her book, Mitchell offers a different look at the Civil War and Reconstruction, provoking thoughts and making me ask myself questions. This, combined with her “story-telling” style, makes the thousand or so pages seem like nothing.

The only words I can use to describe the cast of “Gone with the Wind,” are rich, colorful, and utterly unique. They are so fleshed out that if I met them on the streets today, I would be able to point at them and call them by name. Every character is so gorgeously drawn and complex that they all seem like real people.

There’s Melanie, who’s self-sacrificing, meek, loyal (almost to the point of being in denial), and yet strangely heroic. There’s Ashley, the tragically romantic, torn, “wise-beyond-his-era”, and caught between his ideals and his passion.

There’s Rhett, the sarcastic, jaded, “man-without-morals,” who happens to be head over heals in love, and finally, the selfish, shallow, proud, greedy, and yet strikingly memorable Scarlett.

Melanie was my favorite character, the self-sacrificing, loyal, and pure woman whose steadfast character remains untainted, despite her hardships. The very figure of unconditional love, she is good without being too perfect, clean without being white-washed.

Like Scarlett, she is honest, but her honesty is shown as guilelessness. Not innocence—but something far more pure than that. Loved by all and loving all, she, despite her position as the most respected and admired lady in the South, chooses to stand by Scarlett: who’s rude to her whenever possible, who’s an outcast among the Southerners, and who’s deeply in love with her (Melanie’s) husband.

I sympathized with Ashley, despite his unfaithfulness (in spirit, if not in the flesh) to Melanie, simply because he is in such constant conflict with himself. He knows that the war is lost, and yet he fights in it with all his heart. He knows that his principals and Scarlett’s inability to grasp any morals would never allow them to marry, and yet, even after doing the right thing and marrying Melanie (who is, in reality, his perfect match), he struggles with his passion for Scarlett.

He is in agony over the right thing to do and what he wants to do, and never resolves his inner conflict until it is too late for him to achieve any happiness. (He only figures out his love for Melanie after her death.) I feel sorry for him, I admire him, and I am completely awed by Mitchell’s ability to make her characters come alive.

Now, for Rhett. He’s a rogue. He’s scandalous. He is black-hearted and claims to be just as unprincipled as Scarlett. In fact, some might argue that he is the reason for Scarlett’s descent into the unscrupulous woman she becomes. But, despite his claims, he turns out to be more caring, more kind, and a better person than Scarlett ever was.

He recognizes Melanie for the jewel she is, and calls her “one of the only great ladies he knows.” He is devoted to her, and his random kindnesses show that, beneath the jaded exterior, he has a heart. His obvious pain at Scarlett’s love for Ashley is hidden under a hard mask, but it still shows that he is not beyond feeling. His affection and adoration for Bonny while she lived and his grief when she died further shows his vulnerability.

I couldn’t understand why I liked Scarlett, or why I wanted her to end up happy. She marries men out of spite, walks over others, has no sense of anything beyond money and food, and is too proud to realize the treasures that she already has. She is like the miser who stores up all she can on earth when, in reality, she will die before she can ever enjoy them.

The phrase, “the ends justify the means” is her motto. She has no scruples, stealing her sister’s fiancé without a second thought. There were times, while reading, that I wanted to pull out her hair and scream at her.

But—she is honest. Not transparent, or blunt, or straight-forward, but completely and totally honest. She doesn’t understand the beauty of optimism, but she doesn’t pretend to. She might be able to fool her peers into thinking that she is patriotic, but the readers know that she doesn’t care, and doesn’t want to care.

When I was reading, I saw things through her eyes, I looked into her soul, I literally “became” her. And she isn’t a hypocrite. She stays by Melanie throughout her pregnancy—not because of any nobility within her (she hasn’t got any), but because she didn’t want to face Ashley one day and tell him she abandoned his wife. She lusts, plots, and pours out her passion for Ashley, but is harshly authentic in her love and pain over his refusal to leave Melanie.

Finally, despite her callousness, she knows, deep within her, that something is wrong. She tries to fill up that hole inside her with money, food, and friends, but it still remains, though she pushes it back. I, as the reader, clearly sees the emptiness that she is trying to hide, and it connects me to her.

Scarlett O’Hara may be the most selfishly ambitious creature ever to take life in print, but she chases these things in a quest to fill the gap all of us feel, which makes her—if not lovable, easy to relate to.

In the extra chapter at the back of the book, Margaret Mitchell is asked the main theme of “Gone with the Wind,” and answers simply, with the single word, “survival.” Scarlett is a survivor, willing to do anything and everything in order to grab what she wants.

She will throw away the pride of being a Southerner, the esteem of her peers, the morals of her family, her own conscience, and the feelings of all who stand in her way. In the end, she loses Rhett, whom she realizes has loved her all along, but who has finally given up on her—but does not falter. She does not break. Instead, she sleeps, and resolves to win him back in the morning.

I guess that’s why I loved the book. Scarlett is spirited, but more than that—she will persevere. She is honest. She is nothing like the person I’d like to be and yet has everything a girl wants. My infinitely wise mother said that the reason people love “Gone with the Wind,” is that it supports the idea that a person can be selfish, self-centered, and shallow, but still have people who love her whole-heartedly and with an everlasting devotion.

Now that I write this, the truth of that statement (at least, the end of it), is obvious. Despite her shallowness and inability to understand Ashley’s morals and principles, he, instead of recoiling in disgust at her (almost wanton) pleas, still believes her to be the most beautiful, lovely, good person, when in reality his wife, Melanie is everything he wants and more.

Rhett continues to love her, buying her everything and ready to lay the world at her feet—and she, (albeit unknowingly), breaks his heart daily by pining over Ashley. Melanie, gentle, lovely, and loved by all, stands by her when the world would like nothing better than to crush her, even when confronted with proof of the feelings between her and Ashley. Scarlett does nothing to deserve these people, and even routinely snubs Melanie, and yet they don’t leave.

I can understand why this book is a classic. As long as people long for true friendship, as long as they pine for true devotion, as long as they dream of true love—Gone With the Wind will endure.


Well, from the review you can tell that I absolutely LOVED the book. So, will you give it a try? I hope so.
It’s definitely worth reading.