Margaret Mitchell’s Gone with the Wind—“A Good Woman is Hard to Find”

By Karen E. B. Elliott,

English Department Faculty

February 26, 2019

Margaret Mitchell was once quoted as saying that “in a time of weakness, I wrote a novel.” Well, if writing one of the most read, translated, and published novels in the world was a weakness, I am sorry that she died so young that we’d never get to see her strengths.

I decided to teach this novel a few years ago, and without a doubt, for most of my students, whether male or female, black or white, it’s their favorite. There are few novels whose characterization is so rich, even for the minor characters. At first, however, many of my students struggle—the novel is distinctly Southern—and for most of my beloved Northern, New England, so-called Progressive Massachusetts types, Mitchell dispels a lot of myths. She openly condemns Stowe’s Uncle Tom’s Cabin, and she attacks a couple of women from Maine in one particular scene (where they make racist remarks to Uncle Peter) that will make you want to change those coastal vacation plans.

Mitchell shows that racism is not just a Southern problem, nor is it still. It’s a Northern one. And according to Mitchell, what makes the Northerners far worse than the Southerners is that behind their supposed intellect, their apparent logic, and progressive politics, you’ve got a region of hypocrites who wear anti-slavery superhero capes, but what they’re really after is money, profit, political support, and all for the building of a new economy based on the rise of industrialization. The heart of the matter is accurately expressed by the famous Rhett Butler who not only predicts the war’s outcome, but also accurately pegs (and despises) the root of most issues—it’s hypocrisy. He says to Scarlett, “It’s only hypocrites like you, my dear lady, just as black at heart but trying to hide it, who become enraged when called by their right names” (Mitchell 223). This definitely applies to all of us, as the American way is to wear your best façade to church, work, school, or on your college application.

As Christians, then, it is easy to identify with Scarlett, despite what we feel for or about her. She does not stand for any cause which will actually cost her anything. She is truly ambivalent—we are attracted to her because we support her ability to survive and beat the odds, to play the world at their own game and seemingly win, but we are repulsed by some of her choices and what drives her to make them. I have found that characters my students struggle with the most are the ones we can most identify with. She is, as Rhett declared, a hypocrite. She feigns righteousness when she needs to get something, and her true nature arises when she is cornered like a cat. She can be vicious. And at the heart of it all, she doesn’t really care that much about what other people think—only if it means that it exempts her from the best parties. She covets another woman’s husband; she marries her sister’s fiancé, but she loves her home and will do anything to save it, even if it means offering herself physically. “I won’t let the Yankees [the world] lick [or take advantage of] me” she continually says, and don’t we all feel this way? She lives in a world that clearly doesn’t respect women—certainly does not acknowledge their intellect—and she knows that the world revolves around money, so she will do anything to get it, and all the time she rationalizes this acquisition. She does believe in God, but she does not trust that He has her best interests in mind; in fact, she doesn’t believe that anyone does. In many ways, she is the quintessential American woman, which is not flattering.

Mitchell, however, does not allow her reader to laud her main character or rationalize her choices, much like we Christians like to do. Scarlett is contrasted by Melanie Hamilton Wilkes, who Rhett claims (and makes no other claim like it about any other woman in the novel) is “one of the very few kind, sincere, and unselfish persons I have ever known…And moreover, for all her youth, she is one of the few great ladies I have ever been privileged to know” (222). This is what our female students need to hear. Melanie is not fashionable; she is thin, but not so-called “good thin”; she is thin like a seventh grader who never made it to puberty. It’s noted on more than one occasion that she can’t pull off the current trend of evening gowns because she hasn’t got the bust to hoist for cleavage. She apparently has a sweet round face that is shaped like a heart. And although that might sound a bit cliché, her characterization is so strong that you realize she really is all heart—the self-proclaimed, brave Christian woman of the Pauline letters. Rhett acknowledges this bravery because he knows that Melly is sacrificial. She is not afraid to sacrifice her reputation, her life, her friendships, or even her husband for what is honorable and right. She is the only one who can save Rhett from despair when Bonnie dies, because as Mammy says, she’s the only person Rhett truly respects; and, she is “the only woman friend” Scarlett has (937). She even loves the memory of the dead Yankees—her enemies—with much controversy, as she proclaims social ostricization if she cannot mourn them as sons, men, and brothers. She is kind to Belle Watling, the prostitute; she treats Rhett with kindness and gratitude like the Samaritan when he has been expelled from Atlanta society; she honors her husband even though he is dishonorable. Melly is truly “patient, kind, does not envy, is not proud, is not rude, is not self-seeking, is not easily angered, and [definitely] keeps no record of wrongs” even though the reader, whether Christian or not, wants her to do so; Melly’s integrity and strength “never fails” (1 Corinthians 13). And most importantly, she convicts those around her. Scarlett admits that she would “burst into tears at the thought of what would be in Melanie’s eyes” if she should think ill of her (877), and Rhett claims that Melly’s unfailing love for Scarlett will be Scarlett’s cross to bear, but it’s one that will, even though at the last minute, weigh Scarlett’s conscience and hopefully make her the woman we all knew she could be.

Melanie Wilkes is essential for our students to study. She is the one woman by the end whom my male students vow they will marry someday, and this is good for my girls to hear; they are too swayed these days by so-called strong women, who are really just worldly. They need to hear why my boys dislike Scarlett and are not swayed by her apparent allure, beauty, intellect or gumption. They see her the way Rhett sees her—she is selfish, conceited, and although smart, doesn’t really care about being informed or well-read (because then she might have to think outside of her self-centered desires); whereas, Melly is what St. Paul describes in Ephesians, but moreover, her husband, as noted by Rhett, does not fulfill his part of the bargain as St. Paul declares in verses 25-33: “Husbands, love your wives as Christ loved the church and gave Himself up for her… .” This is what makes Rhett’s disparaging comments about Ashley Wilkes ring true. Rhett knows what Melly deserves—both on a secular and Biblical level—and Ashley Wilkes certainly does not deserve her. Even Scarlett notices this, but what keeps Ashley with Melly (and not Scarlett) are her Biblical attributes. By the novel’s end he proclaims that “If I’ve ever been strong, it was because she was behind me” (938). In the end it wasn’t a pretty face or sexual attraction which kept him by her side—it was because Melly lived her faith. She, unlike Scarlett, didn’t use God like a rabbit’s foot that she rubbed when she needed a material blessing. She sets the example of womanhood to the point where Rhett famously leaves Scarlett and honestly “doesn’t give a damn” about what will happen to her (957).

Melanie sets the standard and it is high; however, for a thousand pages Mitchell illustrates through Melly that “to live is Christ, and to die is gain” (Philippians 1:21). And our female students need to have confidence that men aren’t going to settle for anything less. Melanie never allowed herself to be judged by anyone’s standards—societal, male, female, political, etc.—and while Scarlett “was too anxious to make money and too fond of bullying people,” “everyone who knew [Melanie] clung to her skirts” because of her honestly, sincerity, and goodness (892; 1000). This, ultimately, is what a man wants.

Scarlett learned too late that love is not meant to be taken and held over people’s heads like a whip (1016). Too many of our so-called strong female celebrities teach this to our female students. Women today, Christian women included, are not seeking to be equal with men; we want dominance. Like Scarlett, we’ll use anything to accomplish this: we ironically enslave our appearance, our intellect, our bodies; we’ll even justify physical augmentation in the name of self-esteem; however, this gets Scarlett one thing, and one thing only—abandonment—and the novel’s very unsatisfying ending drives this reality home. (Even Mammy, her “mainstay,” and all the former slaves she loved and saved, leave her without looking back.)

Originally, Mitchell’s title for the novel was “Tomorrow is another day”; however, she changed it. Scarlett’s self-centered and distrustful approach to life cost her everything, and if a novel’s title is supposed to frame a story’s meaning, then by living for the world and trusting not God but herself only then everything she had is quite literally “gone with the wind,” and she’s left only with herself, and “fear and remorse and the torment of a suddenly awakened conscience” (763).

Consequently, the real question we should ask ourselves and our students is this: What...