First time read: No wonder this book is considered a classic. I wish I had read it years ago, but glad I have now read it.
Second time read: Wow... ( )

This is an epic tale of a terrible person who perfectly reflects the terrible place she lives. Scarlett is pretty at first glance but cares only for herself, and even given a chance to change and reestablish her reputation during reconstruction she digs in and becomes more self-serving. Just like the South.
There are certainly racist ideas and language throughout this entire brick of a book, which are awful to read and reflect on now. I found the objection to convict labor but not slave labor confusing, but I guess that goes to show how subhuman people considered Black people to be.
I'm glad I've read this, and it will certainly stick with me, but I'm thankful not to know a Scarlett O'Hara or live a self-created tragedy like she. ( )

1937 Pulitzer Prize for Fiction

I read this book during a trip to upstate New York, Montreal, and Toronto. The beginning floundered with a lot of background and I tripped in the constant stream of “darky, N-word, pickaninny,” etc. Sure, those words were used then, but combined with the image of the happy slave, it was a little much. I can imagine that probably not all white owners beat their slaves or sent bloodhounds after them (as the northerners in the book accuse the southerners of doing), but some of them did, and the idea of owning another human being in itself makes my stomach churn.

On the other hand, it was interesting to me the way the book portrayed the mishandling of Reconstruction, because how could one expect people who have had no opportunity for education or self-determination to be able to just go out and fend for themselves? Did they expect the freed slaves to instantly be fine? Did they expect white people, whether northern or southern, to accept them? It sounds like the whole thing was ill-thought-out, much like one of Scarlett’s plans. But then, when are the consequences of war ever really well-thought-out? The whole country was hanging on by its bloody fingernails, scratching to survive.

I also found my sympathies tugged at the white southerners not only having their livelihood destroyed, but to suffer further as their homes were looted and burned. Some might say they brought it on themselves for owning slaves and choosing to fight to maintain that terrible economy, but I can’t help but think that these were people too—couldn’t they have been left with something? I don’t believe in returning evil for evil, and perpetuating an evil system doesn’t mean they deserved to starve and die when that system came down. In some ways the economy of the south still reels from the ghost of that impact.

What I really liked about Gone with the Wind was the scope and the characterization. The story is truly epic, not in the sense of covering a wide timespan, but in capturing the despair of an entire nation in a relatively small group of characters. The characters both represent the anguish of the whole south and come across as frighteningly real individual people. When I finished the book, I had to sit and brood and stress about it for a day. Right up until the end I hoped that it could be happy, but Mitchell was too true to her characters' personalities, and some of those personalities struck uncomfortably home.

I see a lot of hating on Scarlett in the Goodreads reviews, and I don’t know what to make of that, because I see a lot of myself in Scarlett. I lack her gumption and her charm, but have plenty of her other qualities—spoiled, self-centered, feeling like a husband and money will protect me. Fortunately, to balance that, there is a bit of Melanie Wilkes in me—a desire to believe the best of people regardless of circumstances, maybe a little bit of courage. Also Ashley, with his dreaminess and self-induced helplessness. Even Rhett, who experienced social rejection and was reluctant to state honest feelings. I wonder what would have happened if he had taken that risk on Scarlett—she might have used him for a while, but the outcome might have been better.

I like to think that if I’d lived in that era, I would have survived, but I don’t know. It takes me a lot longer to pull myself together after a tragedy than it did Scarlett, and I’ve had my share of them, if not on such a societal scale. Would the Ashley in me have pulled me to the bottom and drowned me, or would Scarlett have risen up, turned my heart to stone, and shoved me forward? I hope that my lifetime doesn’t hold such a large-scale tragedy that I’m forced to find out. ( )

I have always wanted to read this book and it was as good as I had hoped. I always loved the movie but as with most stories, the book is so much better. You get such an insight into Scarlet and why she does what she does. I absolutely loved this book!! ( )

***NO PLOT SPOILERS***

Gone With the Wind won the Pulitzer Prize and boasts countless fans. I enjoyed it for its sweep and journey and for its array of lively characters. But no work is sacrosanct. It isn’t exempted from criticism just because it was published when it was, which implies that people of the past were timid lemmings lacking consciences, empathy, and critical-thinking skills. It has a KKK storyline. It has a sanitized portrayal of slavery. It has an underage and dysfunctional relationship between Rhett and Scarlett. It has Rhett abusing Scarlett. It has an unabashedly biased portrayal of the Civil War, with a love of Robert E. Lee and a rooting for the Confederacy. It has a proud Southern sensibility oozing with classism, racism, and sexism. Those are just a few of its many serious flaws, problematic now and problematic then.

It also has big personalities, a vivacious protagonist, dashing men, a stately plantation home, ostentatious gowns and frilly bonnets, travels on horseback and in carriages, a sometimes-resourceful Scarlett. It has atmosphere and takes readers places. I enjoyed these—but one has to work hard to ignore the outrageously shameful elements, and a review that doesn’t condemn these is incomplete. ( )