I Dream in Scarlett
“When she arose at last and saw again the black ruins of Twelve Oaks, her head was raised high and something that was youth and beauty and potential tenderness had gone out of her face forever. What was past was past. Those who were dead were dead. The lazy luxury of the old days was gone, never to return. And, as Scarlett settled the heavy basket across her arm, she had settled her own mind and her own life.There was no going back and she was going forward.”
--Gone with the Wind, 356
So many surprises in Gone with the Wind. Surely Margaret Mitchell indulges in a bit too much, “…something that was youth and beauty and potential tenderness had gone out of her face forever…” But still, Scarlett’s development – even as I have read only to page 405? I can't think of another book that has dragged the protagonist through such hell by mid-story. The courage it takes to take a character so far in so few pages (especially considering the steady stream of the indulgences cited above)!
This is a surprising work of twentieth century feminist lit. Popular notions of who Scarlett O'Hara is do not do her justice. She is not a southern belle. The things of which she is capable are spellbinding! I'm unsure of how much Mitchell is aware of - was she looking to simply create a good story, or to comment on the world around her - but she makes Scarlett 'manly' in her resolution. She needs to remind the reader of Scarlett's tiny waist and perfect complexion, otherwise we lose connection with the feminine value of her character.
This passage marked the first time I truly connected with Scarlett. Grudgingly, I knew that we were sisters. (I stifle mountains of the bitchiness that she doesn’t even recognize! And so I hated her even more, for indulging herself…)
The successful of us all settle our own mind and our own life, at whatever provocation. But I think Scarlett misses an important detail (which Melanie understands). We settle our own minds and our own lives – but with a sense of fatality and sense of humor to allow for love, life, and the pursuit of happiness.
But maybe we are given this from birth. We must remember the time Scarlett spends angry at her mother Ellen for not providing any behavior of society through which she may understand the cruel world set before her. It's amazing to think of the changes that happened in Scarlett's world in so short a time. And makes you consider if this may happen in our own time.
Perhaps the biggest surprise of all is the ways that this novel sticks with me. Throughout the day I consider what Scarlett will do next. I write my movements in my head as Mitchell might describe them.
Maybe it was a symptom of reading 100 pages after 10pm. Maybe there was too much southern sympathizing. Maybe something about work is like a civil war – serving on the losing side of the marketing agenda. But holy cow! Last night I dreamt Gone with the Wind in Janome (work) language! I was serving under my boss Randy – and we were combing the south as part of the commissary department. And I was a man wearing a dingy Confederate Uniform. But I was still myself: trying to be as polite as possible under unendurably impolite work orders.
posted by Margot St. Clair @ 11:02 PM
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