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A review by kathywadolowski
Gone with the Wind by Margaret Mitchell
5.0
Until now, I don't believe I've ever read a book deserving of the title "epic." But in the case of "Gone With the Wind," I don't know that there's any other word I could use to describe it. Except maybe "masterpiece."
In my edition's 1,024 pages, I expected a slow-down at some point in the plot. But a lag never came; instead, the plot charged forward at every turn of the page and I was never bored or wanting. [Except, of course, for wanting Scarlett and Rhett to just get over themselves and be together. Sigh.] That pacing is quite an accomplishment in a novel so long, and I think it's thanks to the fact that the book is basically a bunch of sub-stories that can be cleanly divided but center on the same cast of characters. In the first part, we meet our cast and see them as they were, in the hey-day of the South and in all their untroubled glory. Here we come to know and dislike our heroine, Scarlett O'Hara, who spends the entirety of the book chasing a man she doesn't understand. Scarlett, as the protagonist of the novel, is also one of its greatest mysteries: she is shallow, spoiled, childish, and often unlikable, and Mitchell does not ever shy away from those characteristics. It is intriguing, then, that often we still find ourselves rooting for Scarlett, despite all her flaws. I think in a way Scarlett *is* the South: she is so sure of herself that she never truly believes she can fall, even when she in fact does. I love that we also meet our (anti?)hero, Rhett Butler, in the very beginning, even if he doesn't become a more major player until later in the story. He is clearly important, and it's brilliant how Margaret Mitchell sets up the passion/tension between them right from the get-go.
Next comes the war-centered chapter, which does last for a bit but in this way conveys the reality of the war and its lingering torment. Like our characters, the South was certain of its superiority and arrogant in its lack of preparation, and was promptly knocked down a peg or ten. In this part, we get to know Melanie and see, if not understand, her loyalty and grace. She is an excellent foil to Scarlett, and that balance makes the narrative work.
Post-war Reconstruction comes next, and it's in this part that we come to understand why we're rooting for Scarlett, even as she frustrates us—her spirit and her drive are inspiring, and when faced with the worst she doesn't back down or succumb but instead rises up and conquers. I think every reader likes to imagine that, faced with the same dire circumstances, they'd react and rebuild with the same strength as Scarlett (but maybe less mean).
Finally, there's Scarlett's life in Atlanta with Rhett as Georgia continues to struggle against national rule. Once we reach this point, the characters have gone through so much and have experienced so much growth and change that it feels we've grown and changed with them. And we're left to just watch things unravel.
It's a hallmark of a fantastic book when it can make you think, learn, and feel in the same stroke. By being immersed not only in the factual history of the Civil War South, but also in the lives of characters who survived it, you learn more about the time period than you can get out of a history book. You gain an understanding of why some things happened the way they did, and how tragedy, in the same way as triumph, can shape a people and their mindset.
I'm not sure, ultimately, if "Gone With the Wind" is a tale of hope or despair. It works either way, and I think it's really both. The vivid characters, in their personality extremes, mirror the dreams and failings of the South. In their actions, their inaction, and their interactions, they live out the reality of South's demise; but they also constantly believe that they, and the South, will rise again. Absent any of the other wonderful aspects of the book, such as the supporting characters, the charming descriptions of place, or the crackling dialogue, such masterful weaving of cast and theme on its own qualifies the story as a masterpiece.
In my edition's 1,024 pages, I expected a slow-down at some point in the plot. But a lag never came; instead, the plot charged forward at every turn of the page and I was never bored or wanting. [Except, of course, for wanting Scarlett and Rhett to just get over themselves and be together. Sigh.] That pacing is quite an accomplishment in a novel so long, and I think it's thanks to the fact that the book is basically a bunch of sub-stories that can be cleanly divided but center on the same cast of characters. In the first part, we meet our cast and see them as they were, in the hey-day of the South and in all their untroubled glory. Here we come to know and dislike our heroine, Scarlett O'Hara, who spends the entirety of the book chasing a man she doesn't understand. Scarlett, as the protagonist of the novel, is also one of its greatest mysteries: she is shallow, spoiled, childish, and often unlikable, and Mitchell does not ever shy away from those characteristics. It is intriguing, then, that often we still find ourselves rooting for Scarlett, despite all her flaws. I think in a way Scarlett *is* the South: she is so sure of herself that she never truly believes she can fall, even when she in fact does. I love that we also meet our (anti?)hero, Rhett Butler, in the very beginning, even if he doesn't become a more major player until later in the story. He is clearly important, and it's brilliant how Margaret Mitchell sets up the passion/tension between them right from the get-go.
Next comes the war-centered chapter, which does last for a bit but in this way conveys the reality of the war and its lingering torment. Like our characters, the South was certain of its superiority and arrogant in its lack of preparation, and was promptly knocked down a peg or ten. In this part, we get to know Melanie and see, if not understand, her loyalty and grace. She is an excellent foil to Scarlett, and that balance makes the narrative work.
Post-war Reconstruction comes next, and it's in this part that we come to understand why we're rooting for Scarlett, even as she frustrates us—her spirit and her drive are inspiring, and when faced with the worst she doesn't back down or succumb but instead rises up and conquers. I think every reader likes to imagine that, faced with the same dire circumstances, they'd react and rebuild with the same strength as Scarlett (but maybe less mean).
Finally, there's Scarlett's life in Atlanta with Rhett as Georgia continues to struggle against national rule. Once we reach this point, the characters have gone through so much and have experienced so much growth and change that it feels we've grown and changed with them. And we're left to just watch things unravel.
It's a hallmark of a fantastic book when it can make you think, learn, and feel in the same stroke. By being immersed not only in the factual history of the Civil War South, but also in the lives of characters who survived it, you learn more about the time period than you can get out of a history book. You gain an understanding of why some things happened the way they did, and how tragedy, in the same way as triumph, can shape a people and their mindset.
I'm not sure, ultimately, if "Gone With the Wind" is a tale of hope or despair. It works either way, and I think it's really both. The vivid characters, in their personality extremes, mirror the dreams and failings of the South. In their actions, their inaction, and their interactions, they live out the reality of South's demise; but they also constantly believe that they, and the South, will rise again. Absent any of the other wonderful aspects of the book, such as the supporting characters, the charming descriptions of place, or the crackling dialogue, such masterful weaving of cast and theme on its own qualifies the story as a masterpiece.