This morning I did something that I have never done before. I consciously decided to stop reading, in my opinion one of the greatest novels ever written, Margaret Mitchell's Gone With The Wind at the beginning of Part Five. Now I know this goes against the grain of every red blooded Southern Belle both living and deceased, and most importantly the author's intentions. I also know and understand from my studies of Margaret Mitchell that she wrote the last chapter of the book first, and the first chapter last. However, as it has been pointed out to me on many occasions, I have in fact read Gone With The Wind numerous times and seen the movie version more times than I care to remember, I do know how this story ends. Today however, I cannot bear to live through the heart-ache, no not today but maybe tomorrow. I have found myself on too many occasions agonizing enough over why Scarlet cannot see past her childish obsession with the stupid and helpless Ashley and recognize the greatness that is Rhett Butler!
For isn't that exactly what a great novel does? It draws you in, it ignites your imagination, and it takes you to another time and place completely. I have lived through the Civil War and the Reconstruction of the South with Scarlet O'Hara and I have longed for the good ol' days of the Antebellum Plantations and the period of life at Tara. I have become frustrated and angered by the other characters in the book, I have faithfully cheered Scarlet for her gumption and strong will, and I have fallen madly and hopelessly in love with Rhett Butler over and over again.
Having grown older and hopefully wiser, I had fully expected not to like Scarlet O'Hara this time around. However, I do so adore her she is selfish and short sighted; spoiled and greedy; and yet I must ask who is not? The fair Scarlet is fierce and passionate and I cannot help but to think, as I am sure Rhett does, what she would have been like had her world not fallen apart and hardened her heart. I can relate to Scarlet on so many levels, as my world has fallen apart on several occasions and yes has hardened my heart. Scarlet's character is so deliciously complicated and so imperfect that she literally jumps off of the pages. So much about Scarlet is self-biographical of each and every Southern Belle.
Yes, I can relate to Scarlet O'Hara. I have had people and events in my life that have affected me, made me less trusting, more guarded, a bit jaded, and yes even bitter at times. To quote Grandma Fontaine from the novel, " You have to always keep something to fear and something to love". I pray that I will always have something to fear and something to love in my life.
The first time I read Gone With The Wind, I was in the fourth grade the novel had been a gift from my Mother on her birthday to me, which was her favorite. The last time I held the same novel in my hand was this morning at the age of fifty three. I am sure that I will open up the cover and read this wonderful novel again and again just not today for I cannot take the heart ache today nor the memories. So despite 786 pages of pure genus and reading pleasure, I am closing the book and saying farewell to Scarlet O'Hara, Rhett Butler, Grandma Fontaine, and yes to the memories of my Mother, if only for today.
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