Gone with the Wind

Reasons You Should(n't) Read Gone With the Wind by Margaret Mitchell

Gone With the Wind is probably my favorite American classic to date and also one of my favorite books, period. Considering I am usually more enthusiastic for modern fantasy than for historical fiction, this is something of a feat.

I will be honest in admitting that I read this book for school. My AP Lang gave us a list of books to choose from for our final project and I chose Gone With the Wind, a little bit because I thought I'd enjoy it and mostly because I wanted to recreate a Scarlett O'Hara dress as the creative portion of the project. I knew next to nothing of the plot even if I could quote the famous line: “Frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn.”

Here begins the obligatory plot summary. Scarlett O'Hara is a spoiled brat who thinks she loves Ashley Wilkes and throws such a fit when Ashley gets engaged to Melanie Hamilton that she marries Miss Hamilton's brother out of pure spite. She's a widow and a mother in the blink of an eye and finds herself living with Melanie, whom she hates, in Atlanta during the Civil War. Here she gets to know Rhett Butler, the scallawag-turned-hero blockade runner who shows her how to have more fun than is socially acceptable.

The rest of the book revolves around this cast of characters–Scarlett, Melanie, Ashley, and Rhett–and their interactions. Through several marriages and children and endless trials, Scarlett remains convinced that she loves Ashley, who is married to Melanie. Ashley, too, is convinced that he loves Scarlett, but for Melanie's sake never gives in to temptation. Melanie is beautifully oblivious to all of it, and loves everyone she knows with sweet abandon. And Rhett, while continuously reassuring Scarlett that her blackening reputation is nothing to worry about, is falling in love with her, and resents her pining over Ashley. It's not until it's far too late that Scarlett and Ashley discover whom it is they really love, after Melanie and Rhett are out of their reaches.

Don't let that soap-opera description fool you into thinking that Gone With the Wind is on par with the daytime television your middle-aged mom watches in the living room to pass the time while she's crocheting. Though there's plenty of romantic intrigue and turbulent feelings, the novel is primarily about Scarlett's survival after her life is torn apart by the Civil War, and through her actions and mistakes we readers learn about the issues of the period. The book explores so many different topics, including loss, sacrifice, resilience and the American dream, the conflict between inner desires and societal expectations, the expectations/oppression of women in the nineteenth century, the struggles of the South during reconstruction, the consequences of consciencelessness and greed, the conflict between patriotism and conscience, the importance of valuing those who love you, and the idea that love does not always overcome all. Even if thematic prevalence isn't on your list of must-haves, the actions Scarlett takes to explore all of those are brimming with entertainment value. It's one of those books that's not necessarily action-packed, but still refuses to let you put it down.

I fell in love with this book quickly and forcefully and without entirely intending to–much as Scarlett fell in love with Rhett, I like to think, though in my case my feelings did not show themselves too late. Margaret Mitchell has a gorgeous writing style. All of her imagery, be it visual or auditory or even gustatory, is overwhelmingly detailed (in a good way). The characters are unique and fascinating, especially Scarlett and Rhett, both of whom are relatively terrible people, but fantastic sources of entertainment. The prose is funny both in its narration of characters' actions and in their conversations, again, especially with Scarlett and Rhett, the biggest duelists of wit. That special kind of sarcastic humor is rare in premodern novels, and so is the ease with which dialogue progresses. The narrative is rife with literary elements that would make any word-nerd squirm, colloquialisms and metaphors and abundant parallelism and allusions, from the constant juxtaposition of Rhett and Ashley to the symbolism of Tara as a constant source of strength.

That's not to say that Gone With the Wind does not have a few faults. There are points in the book where the narrative pace drops and the reader continues for the sake of exciting scenes to come rather for much thrill in the current moment. And, troublingly, this novel is sprinkled with “Lost Cause” propaganda; much of the narrative is slanted towards sympathy for the Confederacy–as a friend put it to me, this novel “tries to say that slavery wasn't that bad.” Personally I found the point of view more amusing than offensive or persuasive, and I was never bored with any scene (just a little less seat-gripping), so the book remains at five stars.

If you enjoy books with dynamic and compelling characters, well-paced narrative and unique plot, and a writing style built on a talented manipulation of figurative language and dialogue, then definitely pick Gone With the Wind up. Even if you don't like long books, or romances, or historical fiction, pick it up anyway. You'll be glad you did.