The Quotable Rhett Butler: All Great Neptune's Ocean and a Farewell

So this is it, folks, the last ever installment of the Quotable Rhett Butler series. It has been my favorite thing to write for the blog and I hope you enjoyed it just as much as I did. We say goodbye today with one of the most easily recognizable of Rhett's references, one that comes straight from Shakespeare:

"'Will all great Neptune's ocean wash this blood clean from my hand?'" 

Gone with the Wind, Chapter XLVII

This line occurs during the scene in Pittypat's library, before Rhett proposes. Scarlett is wrecked with guilt and admits that her actions made Frank's life miserable and indirectly caused his death. Rhett's reply, using a direct quote from Shakespeare, seems to juxtapose their situation (her breaking down and confessing to her sins; he being there to alleviate her fears) to a similar scene in Macbeth, the one immediately after Macbeth kills Duncan.  The words Rhett uses belong to Macbeth himself:

"Whence is that knocking?
How is't with me, when every noise appalls me?
What hands are here? ha! they pluck out mine eyes.
Will all great Neptune's ocean wash this blood
Clean from my hand? No, this my hand will rather
The multitudinous seas incarnadine,
Making the green one red."

Macbeth, Act 2, Scene 2

There is one important difference between the two scenes though (besides Scarlett not being guilty of murder, of course). In Shakespeare's play, Macbeth is the one shaken by the enormity of his own deed, while Lady Macbeth tries to calm him down, basically by mocking his emotional state and hesitations. In Gone with the Wind, Scarlett  breaks down and Rhett offers the comforting. This reversal of roles is made more interesting by the fact that neither Lady Macbeth, nor Scarlett are conventional female characters. In fact, they share a fair number of characteristics that set them apart from women of their respective time periods.

To begin with, they are both more ambitious and determinate than their husbands. (This, at least, applies to Scarlett's first two husbands, though I suppose there is a case to be made for Scarlett also being emotionally stronger than Rhett, all things considered.)  Of course, Scarlett's ruthlessness is far less reaching than Lady Macbeth's and  justified by her evolution and experiences throughout the book, and her transgressions far less severe. But Lady Macbeth pushing her husband to commit murder still finds a softer echo in Scarlett bullying Frank into actions that don't agree with his worldview/code of honor (like forcing his friends to pay their debts). 

In both cases, the characters' real strength (comparable to that of any man) is opposed to the role society assigns to them as women. We know how Scarlett assuming traditionally masculine roles was seen by Atlanta. What is interesting to note though is that the words used to describe that episode parallel yet another extremely famous speech from Macbeth, the one where Lady Macbeth, afraid her husband won't be up to whatever it takes to attain their goals, begs "Come, you spirits/ That tend on mortal thoughts, unsex me here, /And fill me from the crown to the toe top-full/ Of direst cruelty."

Here is Scarlett's behavior during her marriage with Frank, seen through the eyes of Frank and of Atlanta: 

"All of his life, Frank had been under the domination of the phrase 'What will the neighbors say?' and he was defenseless against the shocks of his wife's repeated disregard of the proprieties. He felt that everyone disapproved of Scarlett and was contemptuous of him for permitting her to 'unsex herself.' She did so many things a husband should not permit, according to his views, but if he ordered her to stop them, argued or even criticized, a storm broke on his head."

--Gone with the Wind, Chapter XXXVI

And here is Melanie, acknowledging that these words have been used to describe Scarlett:

"I don't mean you've ever been unwomanly or unsexed yourself, as lots of folks have said. Because you haven't. People just don't understand you and people can't bear for women to be smart."

--Gone with the Wind, Chapter LV

As someone pointed out in this excellent analysis, throughout the novel Scarlett fails to fit into traditionally feminine roles, while excelling at traditionally masculine ones. She's a bad daughter, nurse, wife, mother etc., but a great businesswoman and provider for her family. Moreover, she often pushes the men in her life to play the passive roles usually reserved for women. These actions are all regarded as evidence that she is unsexing herself, and thus sanctioned by society. 

So, if they are so similar in their defiance of gender roles, why is Scarlett moping around and waiting for Rhett to tell her everything is fine, while Lady Macbeth dismisses her husband's guilt and focuses on practical matters (such as how to frame others for the murder)?

At the core of Scarlett's character, there are a number of tensions between conflicting traits, such as her sentimental attachment to the Old South and her practical embracing of the New South, her desire to conform to traditional feminine roles and her (how shall I put it delicately?) utter lack of talent for them. As such, it is not surprising that there are a handful of scenes in the book where Scarlett is passive/weaker and in need of help, where she in other words reverts to the role of the woman.  And these moments are almost always connected with Rhett, who is constantly depicted as being hyper-masculine and the only one able to put Scarlett in her place, so to speak. 

The contrast between the two scenes above, the scene in Macbeth and the prelude to the proposal scene from Gone with the Wind, shows that we are dealing with exactly that sort of moment here. While Lady Macbeth, true to her character, was the one in control and able to steady her husband's nerves, here it is Scarlett that needs the comforting and Rhett who is able to provide it. It is no wonder then that this scene segues into the proposal, where Rhett continues his manly man strike by kissing Scarlett into submission.

Now, before I leave you, if you want to read a really cool, really interesting piece on the function Shakespeare quotes and allusions play throughout Gone with the Wind, check out this article: The Old and New South: Shakespeare in Margaret Mitchell's Gone With the Wind by Darlene Ciraulo. It is completely worth your time, I promise, and it discusses at length the parallel between Scarlett and Lady Macbeth.

And now, goodbye and thanks for reading!

The Quotable Rhett Butler: That Weak Imitation of Napoleon

Having taken a look at the reasons England had for not weighing in on the side of the Confederacy, we'll now continue with the second half of Rhett's line and examine France's stance:

"And as for France, that weak imitation of Napoleon is far too busy establishing the French in Mexico to be bothered with us. In fact he welcomes this war, because it keeps us too busy to run his troops out of Mexico..." 

--Gone with the Wind, Chapter XIII

The "weak imitation of Napoleon" is of course Napoleon III, the nephew of The Napoleon (tm, because Bugsie likes him a great deal) and emperor of the Second French Empire. Now, weak imitation of his uncle or not, Napoleon III had plans for the world. All of the world, but some areas in particular. And it so happened that he had a most excellent plan with everything south of the United States, a plan known as the "Grand Scheme for the Americas." Don't let its name deceive you, the Grand Scheme was quite simple really. First step: France gains control of Central and South America and their resources. Second step: France rules the world. 

Napoleon saw an opening for his first step when Mexico (temporarily) ceased to pay its debts to its European creditors in 1861. France quickly made an alliance with the other wronged parties, Spain and England, launched an attack on Mexico, lost its allies on the way (they caught wind of step two and didn't like it one bit, basically),  but still managed to take control of the capital and install Maximilian of Hasburg at the head of a puppet state under French control. Most of this was accomplished because the United States had the courtesy to be otherwise engaged at the time, so yes, the French did welcome the American Civil War in this respect, as Rhett says. After the Civil War ended, the US troops and the Mexican resistance would in fact run them out of Mexico. 

But just because the Civil War suited his purposes quite fine, that doesn't mean Napoleon III didn't have a favorite in this race. He was on the side of the Confederacy, mainly because he thought the Southerners would tolerate his presence in Mexico more easily. He was quoted saying that if the North won, he would be glad, but if the South did, he would be thrilled. ("Si le Nord est victorieux, j'en serai heureux, mais si le Sud l'emporte, j'en serai enchanté!")  But despite this, he wouldn't act unwisely (for a certain value of "wisdom," where "wisdom" = "what would England do"). And England would not act, for reasons we discussed last week. So France didn't either. And the rest is, as they say, history.

The Quotable Rhett Butler: The Fat Dutch Woman

After a long holiday, the Quotable Rhett Butler is back! We're also getting close to the end of this series, only two or three quotes left. So, this week and the next, we will have twin lines, pertaining to Britain's and France's involvement in the American Civil War (or, rather, lack thereof) and then it's time to say goodbye. But first, let's take a look at Britain and its queen:

"Why, Scarlett! You must have been reading a newspaper! I'm surprised at you. Don't do it again. It addles women's brains. For your information, I was in England, not a month ago, and I'll tell you this. England will never help the Confederacy. England never bets on the underdog. That's why she's England. Besides, the fat Dutch woman who is sitting on the throne is a God-fearing soul and she doesn't approve of slavery. Let the English mill workers starve because they can't get our cotton but never, never strike a blow for slavery."

--Gone with the Wind, Chapter XIII

By the time Rhett and Scarlett had this conversation, in the spring of 1863, the chances of England rising to help the Confederacy were indeed slim. But it hadn't always been like that. Indeed the Confederacy had all along relied on the hope that the European powers, France and England in particular, would recognize it as a legitimate state, separate of the Union, and come to its aid. And at some points early during the war (see the Trent Affair), it had seemed that it might indeed happen.

Arguments in favor of this outcome? Firstly, Europe (and especially England) was dependent on the cotton produced in the South. Secondly, Europe (and especially England) was not a great fan of successful extra-European states and in fact quite fancied the idea of a divided Union. And finally, the European aristocrats had a natural affinity with the refined Southern upper classes and an equally natural distaste for the more... democratic Northerners.

Arguments against this outcome? Firstly, the European states were a little busy with their own engagements (i.e. being passive-aggressive and occasionally aggressive-aggressive to each other at any given chance). Secondly, no self-respecting empire precisely enjoyed creating a precedent by supporting seceding rebels. Thirdly, if they were going to pick camps, the European states wanted to be absolutely sure they were siding with the winner.  Fourthly, Europe needed the South's cotton, but Europe also needed the North's cereals just as much, if not more. And, last but not least, there was the moral issue: neither France, nor England particularly wanted to be associated with chattel slavery at this point in the 19th century. 

During the first two years of war, when the odds were not so clearly in favor of the Union and the war was framed more in terms of States' Rights than abolition of slavery, England might have been persuaded to step in on the side of the Confederacy. By the spring of 1863, this was no longer an appealing political action. The Battle of Antietam in the autumn of 1862 had shown the Confederacy to be the underdog and Lincoln's Emancipation Proclamation in January, 1863, had added a moral stake to the war. The Union had framed its actions as  a fight for human freedom, and no European government would want to be seen opposing such an endeavor.

It wasn't even, as Rhett suggests, that a minority at the top was opposed to slavery on moral or religious grounds. It was that, by this time in the 19th century, the public opinion was against it. While Queen Victoria* disapproved of slavery, in keeping with her desire to maintain a Christian kingdom, so did the British working classes, the same ones that were starving without the South's cotton. During the famous Lancashire Cotton Famine, the cotton workers in Manchester sent a letter that contained this passage to Lincoln:

"... the vast progress which you have made in the short space of twenty months fills us with hope that every stain on your freedom will shortly be removed, and that the erasure of that foul blot on civilisation and Christianity – chattel slavery – during your presidency, will cause the name of Abraham Lincoln to be honoured and revered by posterity."

--read more here. 

So, as you see, at this point in history a Confederate newspaper that still expressed hope for an English intervention was bound to addle anyone's brains... (Which we devotedly hope was Rhett's meaning with those first sentences there *cough*.)

*On a random note: Queen Victoria was of German origins, not Dutch. Her mother was the German-born Princess Victoria of Sexa-Coburg-Saalfeld. Americans used the word Dutch to refer to Germans, result of anglicizing the word "Deutsch."

The Quotable Rhett Butler: The Really Pale Woman the Pharisees Took in Adultery

Okay, so we all know that I am not a Bible scholar, right? However, I did know a little about the reference we are featuring today, and probably so do you, because it is connected with a well known and frequently quoted phrase. The wording might be a bit deceiving, but here it is:

"'Wear that,' he said, tossing it on the bed and coming toward her. 'No modest, matronly dove grays and lilacs tonight. Your flag must be nailed to the mast, for obviously you'd run it down if it wasn't. And plenty of rouge. I'm sure the woman the Pharisees took in adultery didn't look half so pale. Turn around.'" 

--Gone with the Wind, Chapter LIII 

The woman the Pharisees took in adultery is actually the one that gives Jesus the occasion to say, "Let he who is without sin cast the first stone." The story goes, according to  John 8: 11-21, something like this. Jesus was preaching at the temple and the Scribes and Pharisees thought to test him by bringing along a woman caught in adultery and asking him what they were to do with her. According to the old Law, she was to be stoned to death for her deed. But according to the Roman law, no executions could be ordered by anyone other than the Roman Empire through its officials. So they had put Jesus between a rock and a hard place, so to say. If he said that she should be stoned to death, they could report him to the Romans for disregarding their rule. If he said she should be spared, they could  compromise him in front of the crowds by pointing out that he's not upholding the law of Moses. Jesus being Jesus, though, he solved it elegantly with that catch-phrase that, interestingly enough, Rhett omits to mention in his speech: ""Let he who is without sin cast the first stone." 

Now, if Scarlett was more Bible-savvy, which she sadly wasn't, perhaps she could have saved her hide by pointing out the rest of this Biblical story to her husband. After all, if there was one thing he definitely wasn't, then that's sinless...

The Quotable Rhett Butler: The Giant Antaeus

Well, friends, long time no see, isn’t it? Come to think of it, I should have probably started this post with “How We Do Run On has the pleasure of featuring yet another guest blogger today, one you might remember from many months ago. Please welcome Bugsie, the girl who doesn’t really know fashion!” In my defense, it was not (only) laziness that kept me away from you and our favorite heroes. Moving to a country that values beer above all other things helped too.

But now that I am back, and now that everyone’s favorite series, Doppelganger Dresses, reached its end, I am afraid you will have to put up with my endless analyses of Mr. Butler’s every word again. For those of you who are not familiar with it, The Quotable Rhett Butler is a series that tries to highlight and explain some of Rhett Butler's lines with a focus on the references (historical, literary or mythological) he uses. You can have a taste of the quotes we covered so far here.

The quote I selected for this week belongs to chapter LVII and was a suggestion from our reader Bella:

"'Yes. Tara will do her good,' he said smiling. 'Sometimes I think she's like the giant Antaeus who became stronger each time he touched Mother Earth.'" 

--Gone with the Wind, Chapter LVII

This comes from Rhett's conversation with Melanie after Scarlett's departure to Tara after the miscarriage. Since Scarlett's leaving for Tara had already been described by Mitchell in  quite similar terms in a previous scene ("As she had once fled Atlanta before an invading army, so she was fleeing it again (...). It seemed that if she could only get back to the stillness and the green cotton fields of home, all her troubles would fall away and she would somehow be able to mold her shattered thoughts into something she could live by."), we could say this is a case of a character making its author's symbols transparent.

Antaeus - the character Rhett compares his wife with - was a mythological giant with a passion for wrestling (and killing) innocent passersby. His secret weapon? A privileged relationship with his mother, Gaia, aka Mother Earth. In other words, he drew his invincible strength from the soil. So when he had the imprudence of challenging Hercules to a wrestling match, all the famous hero had to do was keep him flailing above the soil for enough time to drain him of strength and then it was game over for Antaeus. 

It is easy to see how the reference to this legend functions as a good comparison for Scarlett's character. For, while she loses everything or almost everything on more than one occasion, as long as she still has Tara as a refuge, she can survive. But this also raises a question that I want to pose for discussion today. Antaeus'  dependence on one source of strength proved a disadvantage to him in the end. Similarly, while her relationship with Tara certainly had its advantages (both material and psychological), could Scarlett’s attachment to the plantation also prove a weakness in some ways?  What do you think? Consider the period after the war and the lengths she goes to to keep Tara. Wouldn’t it have been easier and perhaps more profitable for everyone if she let go? 

The Quotable Rhett Butler: Loved He Not Honour More?

For our last edition of the QRB, we discussed a quote from the popular romantic ballad The Soldier's Dream and one of our readers, Iris, had a very interesting observation to make. She talked about how Mitchell uses similar - and, in some cases, identical - quotes to convey entirely different meanings in Rhett's and Ashley's speech. Both characters are aware of the unpleasant reality lying behind heroic lines, but whereas Ashley continues to use the said lines in their genuine sense - as if rejecting reality and aspiring to the higher realm of heroism and chivalry they propose - Rhett prefers to employ them sarcastically or twist their meaning to emphasize their ultimate hollowness. Scarlett herself remarks on this aspect at one point:

"'They both see the truth of this war, but Ashley is willing to die about it and Rhett isn't. I think that shows Rhett's good sense.' She paused a moment, horror struck that she could have such a thought about Ashley. 'They both see the same unpleasant truth, but Rhett likes to look it in the face and enrage people by talking about it--and Ashley can hardly bear to face it.'" 

--Gone with the Wind, Chapter XII

It is a very interesting parallel, and, even if this were all there was to it, it would still make for a good compare & contrast post. But the situation is a little more complicated, for there appears to be at least one counterexample to this theory: the scene at Rough & Ready, when Rhett shows himself perfectly willing to die for a war he has no illusions about. His discourse in that scene will be our topic of discussion this week:

"'I could not love thee, Dear, so much, loved I not Honour more.' That's a pat speech, isn't it? Certainly better than anything I can think up myself, at the present moment. For I do love you, Scarlett, in spite of what I said that night on the porch last month."

--Gone with the Wind, Chapter XXIII

To get this out of the way first, I'll tell you that the quote Rhett uses above comes from the poem To Lucasta, Going to the Wars by Cavalier poet Richard Lovelace. Cavalier poetry generally thrived on artfulness, rhetoric artifice, polished structures and a lightness of tone that was often - but not always - paralleled by lightness of subject.  One could easily imagine Rhett Butler declaiming some of the more daring Cavalier lyrics to Scarlett's blushing benefit. But To Lucasta, Going to the Wars is, on the contrary, an example of poetry that touches on serious themes (love & honor, what can be more serious than that?): 

Tell me not, Sweet, I am unkind,
That from the nunnery
Of thy chaste breasts, and quiet mind,
To war and arms I fly.

True, a new mistress now I chase,
The first foe in the field;
And with a stronger faith embrace
A sword, a horse, a shield.

Yet this inconstancy is such,
As you too shall adore;
I could not love thee, Dear, so much,
Loved I not honour more.

       --To Lucasta, Going to the Wars

The question is, of course, how much of it is simply jest in Rhett's use of this quote. Is he just being sarcastic? One could definitely build an argument for that. Talk of honor doesn't seem to suit Rhett Butler. This is Ashley's field and, much to Scarlett's chagrin, Ashley does imply on a few separate occasions that he values duty and honor over his feelings for her. On the contrary, Rhett wastes no chance to imbue the words "honor" and "duty" with as much cynicism and contempt as he can.

But I think that what actually happens in this scene is just a good example of Lying by Telling the Truth™.  It is a technique Rhett employs quite often. He pompously declares love to Scarlett on more than one occasion, the mock solemnity of his declarations the perfect shield that keeps her from suspecting his true feelings. Like in those cases, his appeal to a heroic cliché here disguises the fact that he is ultimately bond by honor - however obscure his other motivations - to join the army. In that sense, his situation  is very similar to that of Ashley (at least if one ignores the part where Rhett left women and children stranded between two armies to run off to the wars).

But is it also true that love is connected to chivalry in our heroes' case, in the way the poem  Rhett alluded to suggests? Is this type of quixotic honor a necessary condition for love? I would say yes to that, if Rhett loved Melanie, not Scarlett. Those of you who have been around for a while are probably familiar with the depth of my resentment for her book, but in this case I think Molly Haskell gets it right. When it comes to Rhett and Scarlett, his devotion to the values of the Old South is a sign of "a deep temperamental divide" that will affect their relationship negatively, rather than a positive element:

"In attempting to explain Rhett’s change of heart, which had a bevy of screenwriters gnashing their teeth, Sidney Howard et al. decided to translate their bafflement into Rhett’s, having him puzzle over his own motives. 'I always had a weakness for lost causes once they’re really lost,' he offers, or alternatively, 'maybe I’m just ashamed of myself.' In some ways it’s the inexplicability of the act that marks it as deeply personal, springing from some demons of the unconscious on Mitchell’s part, a prompting of the past rather than a rational plot calculation. But nothing comes out of nowhere. The scene is powerful precisely because it gives off glints of large, unseen forces, a Rosebud moment that makes sense only in retrospect. Even as he declares his love most passionately, one of Rhett’s feet is pointed homeward, toward Charleston and the clan of bluebloods that will claim him in the end—his desertion of Scarlett the first revelation of a deep temperamental divide between the couple that bodes ill for any kind of 'happy ending.'"

--from Frankly, My Dear: Gone with the Wind revisited

I would love to hear what do you think of all this. And if my ramblings haven't bored you entirely, you can also check Molly's post on this topic. (And even if they did bore you, I promise her post is better!)

The Quotable Rhett Butler: The Bugles Sang Truce

One of the things I like the most about Rhett's speech is that you often find references where you wouldn't think there were any. It really speaks of Margaret Mitchell's ability to blend together various sources, both literary and historical, and relating to the specific background of her characters. Take for example this week's quote: 

"'Shall we let the bugles sing truce?' he smiled down at her, a wide flashing smile that had impudence in it but no shame for his own actions or condemnation for hers. "

--Gone with the Wind, Chapter XXXVI 

I, for one, had always assumed this was just another case of Rhett being eloquent. But a quick googling (this time done by my co-blogger, whose eye for details would make any detective envious) revealed that the expression Rhett uses was one made fashionable by a very popular Civil War song. A song that was actually mentioned in the novel before. Here's the relevant quote:

"Nightly the dark tree-lined streets resounded with dancing feet, and from parlors tinkled pianos where soprano voices blended with those of soldier guests in the pleasing melancholy of 'The Bugles Sang Truce' and 'Your Letter Came, but Came Too Late'--plaintive ballads that brought exciting tears to soft eyes which had never known the tears of real grief."

-- Gone with the Wind, Chapter VIII

"The Bugles Sang Truce" was the popular name of a song called "The Soldier's Dream," with lyrics from an early 19th century poet, Thomas Campbell.  But not only that this expression seeping into everyday speech was a sign of realism on Mitchell's part, but as I read the lyrics to the song, I was struck by how closely they resemble  another situation described in the book. In his letter to Melanie, Ashley Wilkes talks about the thoughts that preoccupy him at night, while his comrades are sleeping. Among those, the memory of the old times at Twelve Oaks, that he fears are gone forever:

"Instead, I see Twelve Oaks and remember how the moonlight slants across the white columns, and the unearthly way the magnolias look, opening under the moon, and how the climbing roses make the side porch shady even at the hottest noon. And I see Mother, sewing there, as she did when I was a little boy. And I hear the darkies coming home across the fields at dusk, tired and singing and ready for supper, and the sound of the windlass as the bucket goes down into the cool well. And there's the long view down the road to the river, across the cotton fields, and the mist rising from the bottom lands in the twilight. And that is why I'm here who have no love of death or misery or glory and no hatred for anyone."

--Gone with the Wind, Chapter XI

Read the lyrics to The Soldier's Dream and tell us if you don't find the atmosphere similar, though Ashley's tone is more subdued:

THE SOLDIER'S DREAM

Our bugles sang truce--for the night-cloud had lower'd,
And the sentinel stars set their watch in the sky;
And thousands had sunk on the ground overpower'd,
The weary to sleep, and the wounded to die.

When reposing that night on my pallet of straw,
By the wolf-scaring fagot that guarded the slain,
At the dead of the night a sweet vision I saw,
And thrice ere the morning I dreamt it again.

Methought from the battle-field's dreadful array,
Far, far, I had roam'd on a desolate track;
'Twas autumn,--and sunshine arose on the way
To the home of my fathers, that welcomed me back.

I flew to the pleasant fields traversed so oft
In life's morning march, when my bosom was young,
I heard my own mountain-goats bleating aloft,
And knew the sweet strain that the corn-reapers sung.

Then pledged we the wine-cup, and fondly I swore
From my home and my weeping friends never to part;
My little one kiss'd me a thousand times o'er.
And my wife sobb'd aloud in her fullness of heart.

Stay. stay with us,--rest, thou art weary and worn;
And fain was their war-broken soldier to stay;
But sorrow return'd with the dawning of morn,
And the voice in my dreaming ear melted away.

The Quotable Rhett Butler: Call Him Ishmael

This series is really forcing me to brush up on my Bible lately. Rhett Butler will make a believer out of me yet. This week, another quote that traces back to the Old Testament: 

"After the surrender Ashley had much more than I had when I was thrown out. At least, he had friends who took him in, whereas I was Ishmael."

--Gone with the Wind, Chapter XLIII

I will admit to scratching my head at this one, before paying a visit to my friend Google, of course. The only Ishmael I could think of top of my head was a roamer, but then he was also into hunting whales and stuff. I somehow didn't think that's what Rhett had in mind. But then Google revealed that Rhett actually meant to say "I was a wild donkey of a man," and it all started to make sense...

Ishmael was the eldest son of Abraham (Abram at that time, but let's keep it simple). Abraham's wife, Sarah, could not conceive so she sent him to sleep with her maid Hagar instead.  In the good tradition of the Old Testament where everything has to be terribly violent and terribly unfair, she then becomes abusive towards Hagar when the latter falls pregnant. Hagar tries to do the reasonable thing and run away, but God orders her to return to her mistress. He also takes this occasion to impart some happy news to her. Her son? will be awful: 

"He will be a wild donkey of a man; 

his hand will be against everyone
and everyone's hand against him,
and he will live in hostility
toward all his brothers."

                                   Genesis 16

Apparently, the "wild donkey" metaphor refers to the child growing up to be a wanderer, not an ass. (Not that they wouldn't both work for our hero, of course.) Fast forward a few years and Sarah gives birth to a boy that they name Isaac. She then conveniently notices that Hagar's son, Ishmael, is "mocking," whatever that means, and asks Abraham to send both mother and child away. God agrees, so Abraham sends them off into the desert with a little food and water. You know, just enough for them to die halfway. Which they don't, because God saves them and helps Ishmael fulfill his destiny of having a really, really big family. But that, my friends, is another story. 

So there you have it. That's what means to be cast out like Ishmael. And for being "mocking" nonetheless, Rhett couldn't have chosen a better analogy. It should be noted, however, how grim and violent his references to the Bible become when he talks about his father. Here he casts his father as Abraham, who might be an important biblical figure and all, but is also a little on the narrow-minded, abusive side of the spectrum (where "a little" is an euphemism) and definitely not the best father one could hope for in this life.

And this raises a question, that, if you choose to engage it, can be our topic of discussion for this week. Given the grim terms he uses to describe the event and the obvious bitterness towards his father, do you think Rhett resented being thrown out or welcomed it as well-deserved freedom?

The Quotable Rhett Butler: A Mouthful of Dead Sea Fruit

This week's quote was submitted by our reader Bella. It's one of the lines from Rhett's final speech:

"Something, someone has made you realize that the unfortunate Mr. Wilkes is too large a mouthful of Dead Sea fruit for even you to chew."

--Gone with the Wind, Chapter LXIII

The Dead Sea fruit, or the apple of Sodom as it was often called, had been a topic of fascination for the Western culture for centuries and by the 19th century it had become a popular trope. It was used to describe a thing whose attractive appearance was deceiving, for one who got hold of the apple of Sodom either tasted it only to find it bitter or, in some takes, was surprised to see it turn to ash before his eyes.

Both of these versions have a ground in reality, for the fruit actually exists. It has, as you can see in the wikipedia picture, the appearance of an edible fruit, perhaps even an apple, but the interior is empty and its flesh bitter. One can imagine many a traveler had a nasty surprise trying out this "apple." As for the other version, in which the fruit turns to ashes, it is probably related to the way this plant spreads its seeds. When the fruits are ripe, they burst, sending off their fibrous contents. Apparently, this also happens if one exerts the slightest pressure on a ripe fruit - they are left with only the remains of the fruit (the "ashes") in their hands.

The apple of Sodom was first mentioned in ancient sources. It appears in Tacitus' fifth book of the History and in Josephus Jewish War. Both these sources stress the fact that the fruit dissolves into smoke and ashes, not that it is bitter to the taste. Mentioned in the Bible as well, the Dead Sea fruit became a famous motif and elicited a great deal of curiosity in the Western world. Authentic reports from travelers were greatly valued, because there was an important current of suspicion regarding its actual existence. Some authors claimed that the apple of Sodom had never been the fruit of a real plant growing in the Dead Sea region, but just a cleverly-found metaphor to signify the vain pleasures of the world.

Rhett obviously uses this expression in the sense in which it was most often used in modern times - to indicate the bitterness of a fruit which had been pleasing to the eye. It is the sense in which it appears in Paradise Lost for example (via wiki): 

"(...) greedily they plucked
The fruitage fair to sight, like that which grew
Near that bituminous lake where Sodom flamed;
This more delusive, not the touch, but taste
Deceived; they, fondly thinking to allay
Their appetite with gust, instead of fruit
Chewed bitter ashes, which the offended taste
With spattering noise rejected: oft they assayed,
Hunger and thirst constraining; (...)"
                                          (book X, 560-568)

And now to close this post, let me ask you this. It's clear that once Scarlett got Ashley (no matter under what circumstances), she would have been disappointed and probably found him "a mouthful of Dead Sea fruit." But do you think that it was possible for her to realize that he wasn't good for her without getting him? Could anything other than actually getting him open her eyes to his real worth (or lack thereof)?

And, of course, a thank you to Bella for emailing us about this particular quote. 

The Quotable Rhett Butler: Of Sparta and Shields

Tuesday, 10 PM - exhausted and fighting imminent painful death a nasty cold, blogger Bugsie takes a quick look at the handful of links about Plutarch and decides to go to bed instead.

Wednesday, 9 PM - still exhausted but now convinced she'll live to whine about it on the intertubes, blogger Bugsie decides life is too good to be wasted reading about Plutarch and wastes it surfing the internet instead. 

Thursday, 8 PM - the time for whining and Plutarch has come, be prepared.

I naturally assumed you were all dying to see the process that led to this post, or at least know the reason for its delay. So now that that's out of the way, and before you have the chance to dispel my egocentric illusions, let's move on to an overdue quote from our favorite eloquent hero:

"Where is your patriotism, your love for Our Glorious Cause? Now is your chance to tell me to return with my shield or on it."

--Gone with the Wind, Chapter XXIII

This is one of the lines from Rhett's departing speech at Rough and Ready, and I would argue that as far as advice goes, it is one of his most efficient lines too.  For, once she recovers her wits, Scarlett does indeed express a desire to see him - or at least the million pieces of him that survived the encounter with a cannonball, anyway - returning on a shield.

As you probably guessed from my intro, this line has its origins in  Moralia, a famous work of  the Greek historian Plutarch. But, like some of the other classical references we've analyzed so far, this expression had entered 19th century popular culture to define a certain attitude towards war and sacrifice in general. Like Thermopylae, like the Horace quotes, it was commonplace.

To return "either with this or upon this" was what a Spartan mother told her son when he left for battle, handing him his shield. Or at least that's how the story goes in Sayings of Spartan Women, a section of Plutarch's Moralia. Whether it's true or not, it is hard to tell, for Plutarch is the source for everything we know about Spartan women; we don't have much material for comparisons. And the image he builds with his collection of anecdotes is that of mothers who put country, honor and bravery above their sons' lives, of women that are faithful and virtuous, self-effacing in face of their men, but proud and defiant in front of the enemies. 

[If it sounds familiar, I will tell you that a love for Sparta's chief values characterized many societies, and that there were even voices at the beginning of the Civil War comparing the South to Sparta. For my fellow nerds those of you who want to study the matter further, Basil Lanneau Gildersleeve has an essay called "A Southerner in the Peloponnesian War," in which he attempts a larger comparison of the two wars. You can read it here.]

But returning to our quote, why was it such an important point for a man to return with his shield? The reasons are three, and can be arranged in concentric circles from the level of the individual soldier to that of the entire community. A man who abandoned his shield was most often a coward. Since the shields were large and heavy, those who ran away from the enemy in battle had no option but to leave them behind. At best a man returning without his shield had not been able to defend it, and his honor, from the enemy. But at worst, he was a deserter.

Beyond this disgrace, a man returning without a shield was a man who had squandered an important property of his family, for shields were expensive and so they were carefully passed down from father to son. And finally, losing or abandoning one's shield meant endangering one's comrades and ultimately risking the outcome of an entire battle. The Greek phalanx presented an unbreakable surface of interlocked shields to the enemy. The shield of one soldier served to protect not just himself, but his fellows as well.  If he dropped it, the enemies had the means to breach the phalanx.

So now that we dove into the meaning of this phrase, one of the many classical references Mitchell uses in regards to war, I am thinking we could do with a topic for discussion. Assuming you too would want to discuss this further,  I would very much like to hear your opinion on one aspect. Do you think Margaret Mitchell wanted us to see Rhett's gesture of joining the army at the last moment as bravery or foolishness? We know how Scarlett sees it, but does the book as a whole support her view?

The Quotable Rhett Butler: Gain the World, Lose Your Soul

So I figured we should continue our incursion into biblical territory with a quote whose origin eluded me until very recently (read: last week). Of course, if on a scale from Bugsie to Bible scholar, you lean towards the latter, it probably won't be a new reference for you as well, but I thought it would still be fun to share. Here it is:  

"That's not a vast age. It's a young age to have gained the whole world and lost your soul, isn't it?"--Gone with the Wind, Chapter LXIII

This comes from Rhett's final speech. I've always had a vague intuition that it had to be a quote by the sound of it, but was never curious enough to actually look it up. And when I did, I found that we had another candidate for our list of biblical references. The phrase appears more than once in the New Testament, but we'll go with Mark :36. Words - Jesus, emphasis - Bugsie (translation - whoever King James paid):

"Whosoever will come after me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross, and follow me. For whosoever will save his life shall lose it; but whosoever shall lose his life for my sake and the gospel's, the same shall save it. For what shall it profit a man, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul? Or what shall a man give in exchange for his soul?"

And now, contrary to the popular belief, I won't go into an elaborate rambling tying this reference to the rest of Rhett's speech. Not only because I rather enjoy writing short posts, but also because his meaning is pretty much obvious. Instead I will say that my favorite thing about it is, for once, Scarlett reaction ("But Rhett is my soul and I'm losing him. And if I lose him, nothing else matters!") and invite you to answer a question. Do you think this phrase (to have gained the world and lost his soul) can apply to Rhett as well, at the end of the book?

PS: Don't forget to tune in on TCM for Gone with the Wind tonight!

The Quotable Rhett Butler: Good Phrases From "That Book"

As one of our readers aptly observed in a comment for the very first edition of our Quotable Rhett Butler (aww, I am getting nostalgic), for a man who professes not to be a believer, Rhett does use a solid number of biblical references. In fact, the Bible and Shakespeare are probably the top two sources for the allusions one can find in his speech. And it's always a pleasure to see that our talented Mr. Butler is aware of that fact as well: 

"'Lusting in your heart.' That's a good phrase, isn't it? There are a number of good phrases in that Book, aren't there?" --Gone with the Wind, Chapter LIV

You probably recognize the setting for this conversation: the dining room of the Butler mansion, after Ashley's infamous birthday party, with a drunken Rhett  just getting started on the central theme of the night: mental infidelity. Well aware of the fact that his wife was never physically unfaithful to him, he nonetheless knows that her love for Ashley is what triggered both that day's scandal and Scarlett's decision to ask for separate bedrooms. And what better phrase could he find to illustrate that than one picked from a collection of warnings against adultery (Proverbs 6: 20-36, that is)? 

"Do not lust in your heart after her beauty

   or let her captivate you with her eyes,

for the prostitute reduces you to a loaf of bread, 

  and the adulteress preys upon your very life. "

But what's more interesting about his line is that, though the phrase is clearly lifted from the Old Testament, its meaning there is quite different from the one in which Rhett uses it. It's obvious that the message was one of precaution: lusting in one's heart and allowing one to be tempted by a woman opened the door to actual adultery, and that was the sin, not the lusting itself. Rhett, however, implies that mental infidelity qualifies as adultery in itself, ergo Scarlett is guilty, though she was never physically unfaithful.

But we can find another passage in the Bible (and if we can't, Google sure can), a little different in wording perhaps, but that captures the essence of that idea better, by going further than the Old Testament had gone. And what's more interesting is that we know for sure Rhett was familiar with it. Here it is, the entire fragment from the Sermon on the Mount (Matthew 5: 27 ), with the relevant sentence highlighted:

"You have heard that it was said, 'Do not commit adultery.' But I tell you that anyone who looks at a woman lustfully has already committed adultery with her in his heart. If your right eye causes you to sin, gouge it out and throw it away. It is better for you to lose one part of your body than for your whole body to be thrown into hell. And if your right hand causes you to sin, cut it off and throw it away. It is better for you to lose one part of your body than for your whole body to go into hell."

And if we convert a small fragment of this to King James' English--"And if thy right eye offend thee, pluck it out, and cast it from thee"--it starts to sound awfully familiar, doesn't it?

The Quotable Rhett Butler: Dog in the Manger

Ooops, have I been derelict in my blogging duties last week? It looks like I've skipped on our Quotable Rhett Butler series, so we'll have to fix that today. But first I have a quiz for you. Can you name one similarity between Ashley Wilkes and Catherine Earnshaw, the heroine from Wuthering Heights? The answer, related to this week's quote, after the jump, at the end. 

And now let's turn to our eloquent hero. The line I had selected for last week came from the famous "no more babies" scene. This is Rhett's cryptic reply when Scarlett announces him that she wants separate bedrooms: 

"You like dogs, don't you, Scarlett? Do you prefer them in kennels or mangers?" --Gone with the Wind, Chapter LI

As his previous question ( "You've been to the lumber office this afternoon, haven't you?") indicates, Rhett is aware of the part Ashley Wilkes played in Scarlett's decision, and he lets her know about it by alluding to the expression "dog in a manger," which perfectly defines their situation. Well, tries to let her know, since Scarlett obviously misses the implication, but still...

I myself had to google for the expression the first time I read Gone with the Wind in English, and the fable from which it was derived struck me as quite ironically adequate to the circumstances. (Okay, so substituting Rhett for the ox and Ashley for the dog made me giggle. Did I ever claim I went above the mental age of 5?) Here's the fable: 

"A Dog looking out for its afternoon nap jumped into the Manger of an Ox and lay there cosily upon the straw. But soon the Ox, returning from its afternoon work, came up to the Manger and wanted to eat some of the straw. The Dog in a rage, being awakened from its slumber, stood up and barked at the Ox, and whenever it came near attempted to bite it. At last the Ox had to give up the hope of getting at the straw, and went away muttering: 

'Ah, people often grudge others what they cannot enjoy themselves.'"

--Aesop, Fables

Not a particularly hard to follow allusion, since the phrase "dog in a manger" was and is in common use. Even Scarlett would have probably caught it if not for her anger and disappointment at her husband's reaction (though one can wonder, what did she expect?) and the only remarkable thing about it was the extent to which Rhett kept his cool in this scene. Such a difference between the Rhett in the book, who is able to find a stinging elaborate comeback in any situation and perfectly hide his true feelings, and the Rhett in the movie, who kicks  doors and hurls glasses. (Note the depth of my hatred for that particular scene.)

What gave me a thrill, though, was to later find the  expression Rhett used in a similar jealousy/love triangle context in Wuthering Heights. See what that context is after the jump (minor spoilers if you haven't read the book).

The Quotable Rhett Butler: Down with Popery!

What better time to shout "Down with Popery!" than in the week we bragged about that most pious set of Gone with the Wind fans, the Catholic nuns? You see, we're all about denominational impartiality here, at How We Do Run On. So, as you probably already guessed, our (somewhat belated) Rhett quote for the week is this:

"Sometimes the rallying cry is 'Save the Tomb of Christ from the Heathen!' Sometimes it's 'Down with Popery!' and sometimes 'Liberty!' and sometimes 'Cotton, Slavery and States' Rights!'" --Gone with the Wind, Chapter XII

It is this line, uttered at Mrs. Elsing's silver musicale, that signs Rhett's exclusion from Atlanta's society. His stand in the entire speech is that of the perfect cynic, and as such is both hard to dismantle and extremely insulting for his idealistic countrymen. The current war is not sacred,  Rhett says, simply because no war is sacred. All wars are fought for money. All other reasons men go to war are just false reasons, pretexts and empty words fed to them by stay at home orators.

For years I believed this theory to be true. I think I know better now. I will try to explain, though, why this was such an appealing world view for me at one time, and why I now consider it to be flawed.

What Rhett is basically saying is what progressive historians say: economy precedes and dictates ideology. But then Rhett Butler (or should I say Margaret Mitchell?) makes this  significantly more appealing than any historian could. I don't know which one you'd rather be, the dashing cynical captain that harbors no illusions, or one of his compatriots that MM portraits as naive at best, but for me the choice was simple. *cue music* Enter Bugsie, the jaded 7-year-old (and yes, my parents were insane, but hey, MM's nephew had it read to him at age 5!).

For a long time my view of history was colored by this stance. With the exception of WW2,  I pretty much thought any war a "money squabble." It's not the worst way to be introduced to history either, I hasten to add. There are indeed economical patterns in history. Let's take Rhett's quote for example. First, admire its sneakiness, since the first rallying cries he chose are both from religious conflicts. And if one tried to find an ideological driving force for a war, religion would be the most obvious choice, so Rhett's mining the main counterargument to his theory right from the beginning. Let's see what events he's alluding to, and what economic causes lie beneath each of them.

• Catholics against the world - 'Save the Tomb of Christ from the Heathen!': First we have the famous Crusades, the campaigns Western Europe waged to recapture the territories occupied by the Muslims. Did the Crusades have an underlying economic reason? More than one. Perhaps control over the Tomb of Christ was the first thing the Christians wanted to extract from the Muslims, but control over the sea ports at the Mediterranean definitely ranked a comfortable second. Not to mention the fact that a crusade was a fine way to occupy some of the warriors the medieval society was so good at producing and so bad at employing in a constructive fashion.


• The world against Catholics - 'Down with Popery!': This a trickier one, since there are few things the world has enjoyed shouting more from the times of Henry VIII forth. One could link a multitude of violent conflicts to this cry, partially the English Civil War and definitely the Gordon Riots of 1780. Its echoes were still very much alive in the 19th century, even across the ocean. Economic reasons? Aplenty, from the larger scale ones related to the monarchs ascertaining political and implicitly economic control over their territories by rejecting the meddling of the Catholic Church, to the particular set of conditions that led to the Gordon Riots and that were only marginally related to the Catholics receiving rights (hint: poverty, low wages, inflation, unemployment. That sort of thing).


• The world against Catholics & friends - 'Liberty': Again a pretty general cry, but I am going to assume it refers to that most celebrated of revolutionary mottoes (Liberté, égalité, fraternité), especially since Rhett will later compare the Southern aristocrats to the French ones, unaware of the fate lying before them before they climbed into the tumbrils. Again, one can trace multiple economic reasons for the French Revolution, like the financial crisis that preceded it, or simply see it all as passing the power and money from one group of people to another. The same idea applies if he's talking about the American Revolution.

So all three of these events can be (and have been) explained as "money squabbles." But here's the trick: while the economic cause is undeniably at work, it is not the only driving force behind these conflicts. It is very comfortable to reduce everything to money. But it is also terribly simplistic. Just as simplistic as reducing everything to some other cause, be it religion, wish for freedom etc. Took me a while to get it but a) history is complicated, b) cynic is not the definition of "right" and c) cynic is not the definition of "cool." (Okay, the jury is still out on that last one. ) In any case, enter Bugsie, less jaded twenty-something.

Rhett's position effaces some lines that I would like to keep and, in this particular case, serves as a subtle defense of a system I don't want to see either rationalized or defended. If everything is about economy, and nothing about ideology, then there are no moral issues to discuss about in a war. There is no right and wrong. And while that might hold true for some wars, I can't bring myself to say it holds true for all of them.

In any case, I think Rhett employs some dose of bravado when he exposes his views here, just like when he tells Scarlett at the bazaar that money can buy everything. And we know from him enlisting in the Confederate army and failing quite spectacularly in buying his wife's affection that both these stands were quite inaccurate.

The Quotable Rhett Butler: Not Settee

Another week is upon us and with it one of Rhett's more famous lines. Uttered during the equally celebrated Atlanta bazaar, this line serves to once again set Rhett Butler apart among his fellow Southerners and anticipate one of the major currents in his relationship with Scarlett prior to their marriage. Here it is:

"I have always thought," he said reflectively, "that the system of mourning, of immuring women in crepe for the rest of their lives and forbidding them normal enjoyment is just as barbarous as the Hindu suttee."

--Gone with the Wind, Chapter IX

As a rule we try to explain the characters' lines ourselves. In this particular case, however, we were spared the trouble, for Captain Butler courteously expanded on the topic himself for the enlightenment of his very charming albeit ignorant companion. So, "in India, when a man dies he is burned, instead of buried, and his wife always climbs on the funeral pyre and is burned with him." That is suttee, and now that its basic definition is out of the way, we can focus on what I have to say more interesting aspects.

First of all, as it is our custom basically every day of the week, we have to praise Margaret Mitchell for historical accuracy. You see, the suttee, as this Hindu custom was referred to at the time, was indeed a topic of interest in the 19th century. It had been officially abolished  by the British authorities in Bengal in 1829, with the others provinces of British India swiftly following, but the custom took time to die down. And by time I mean a century. The ban was enforced under the threat of severe punishment, and of course Hindu locals objected against the unfairness of a law that prohibited what for them was sacred tradition. One general, Charles James Napier, became famous with his reply to such a complaint:

“Be it so. This burning of widows is your custom: prepare the funeral pile. But my nation has also a custom. When men burn women alive, we hang them, and confiscate all their property. My carpenters shall therefore erect gibbets on which to hang all concerned, when the widow is consumed. Let us all act according to national customs.” 

--excerpted from The Daughters of India: Their Social Condition, Religion, Literature, Obligations, and Prospects (1860) by E.J. Robinson

What can I say? The cultural relativism, it burns. Or hangs. (Will.Refrain.From.Jokes.Now.) 

So the suttee was well known to the European and American world. First, because it was a great way of morally justifying the British rule in its colonies, and colonialism in general. Like in the book mentioned above, the abolition of the suttee and of other violent customs, and implicitly the saving of innocent women were presented as “the purposes of Providence in planting Englishmen in India.” And then it was such a splendid example of how the fate of women could be worse. It didn't call for reflection on the place of women in general, but served to present the place of women in Western societies as civilized and desirable.

This is where Margaret Mitchell makes Rhett depart from his contemporaries. For, unlike them, he doesn't use the suttee as a counterpoint against which the mores of the Southern/Occidental society can shine. He uses it to create an analogy for the world they are living in. Scarlett, born and raised in the culture surrounding her, is blind to the faults in its customs, but when she's exposed to  what Rhett presents as an intensified version of those customs in a different culture, her mind instinctively tells her how wrong they are and as a result she promptly and naively asks why the police doesn't step in. (Of course, the cultural relativism? Just took a second tumble.)

What Rhett is trying to achieve here is basically what travel literature of the centuries before him sought by using the motif of the stranger, the outsider that can judge a society with alien  and presumably impartial eyes. His game is more subtle than that, though, and almost brings to mind Montesquieu's Persian Letters in the way it manages to satirize two societies at once. He doesn't want Scarlett to only acknowledge the unfairness of the Hindu custom, but also to translate that judgment in the terms of her own world and see that the mourning customs imposed upon her are in no way better : 

"How closely women crutch the very chains that bind them! You think the Hindu custom barbarous--but would you have had the courage to appear here tonight if the Confederacy hadn't needed you?" 

--Gone with the Wind, Chapter IX

Like Rhett himself, this reference is a fascinating mixture of the new and the old. On one hand, its natural place is in the 19th century. It is something that a man of Rhett's stand and education could have actually used in a conversation. But on the other hand, it is new with something that rings of the century to come. I remember reading a negative 1936 review of Gone with the Wind once, saying that Rhett's lines smell of historical hindsight. While I don't agree with the spirit in which that assessment was made, I do believe that a part of Rhett (the best part, I am tempted to say) is quite strikingly modern.

Oh, and randomly? This line: "... precisely as those worthy matrons in the corner would talk about you, should you appear tonight in a red dress and lead a reel." always makes me think of the movie Jezebel.

The Quotable Rhett Butler: Nihil Desperandum

I heart Horace. I just thought we'd get that out of the way first. A weird sympathy, I admit, made even weirder by the fact that Gone with the Wind is what started it in the first place. I come from a country where torture Latin is among the subjects one has to take in high school. I liked grammar, but in turn resented most of the dead Roman poets they forced upon us. Horace was an exception because--well, to be honest, because I  knew that lines like "dulce et decorum est pro patria mori" and "non sum qualis eram bonae sub regno Cynarae" came from him, and I figured nothing that had the slightest connection with GWTW could be all bad (and that in the background is my Latin teacher fainting at the blasphemy).

And now that our short medium-length episode of Bugsie's autobiography is covered for the public's enlightenment, let me introduce this week's Rhett Butler (mis)quote, which yes, actually comes from Horace:

"'Nihil desperandum' is my motto."

--Gone with the Wind, Chapter XXXIV

As you all know already, this is from the famous jail scene; it's Rhett response to Scarlett's (fake) worry over his fate. Of course, she's oblivious to the meaning of his motto and unashamed of her ignorance, in typical Scarlett fashion, which prompts him to elaborate, somewhat misleadingly:

"'What does that mean?'

'It means 'maybe,' my charming ignoramus.'"

--Gone with the Wind, Chapter XXXIV

The literal translation of what he said in Latin is actually "nothing to be despaired of," which of course sounds much better as "no cause for despair" or, with more of a stretch, "never despair." The slight problem is that the expression, initially taken from Horace's Odes (Carmina) and become a popular saying, is in fact "Nil desperandum." Rhett is misquoting it, but without actually committing any grammatical fault, as "nil" is the contraction of "nihil," and often used in poetical contexts  to attain the right number of syllables for a particular meter. Both words have the same primary sense, "nothing," and are used interchangeably (as you can amply see if you have the patience to  read through the dictionary entry linked above).

But what does "Nil desperandum" stand for in its original context? It's actually a very interesting thing, for the ode in which this expression appears (I.7, that is) seems quite fitting for Rhett. Horace refers to the mythical hero Teucer, a participant to the Trojan War whose father had disowned him and banished him from his city of birth, because he had failed to prevent his much more famous half-brother Ajax from killing himself. Teucer is to leave and found a new city, and naturally he finds this a good opportunity to address a pep talk to his crew, to assure them that there is no reason for despair while they are under the guidance and auspices of Teucer ("Nil desperandum Teucro duce et auspice Teucro").  Here is a poetical translation of the entire fragment:

 "Where Fortune bears us, than my sire more kind,
There let us go, my own, my gallant crew.
'Tis Teucer leads, 'tis Teucer breathes the wind;
No more despair; Apollo's word is true.
Another Salamis in kindlier air
Shall yet arise. Hearts, that have borne with me
Worse buffets! drown today in wine your care;
To-morrow we recross the wide, wide sea!”

--excerpted from Horace, Odes, I.7

"Drown today in wine your care; To-morrow we recross the wide, wide sea." That actually sounds like something that not only the wandering Rhett, but also Scarlett with her "Tomorrow is another day" could adhere to, doesn't it?

The Quotable Rhett Butler: Old Joe at Thermopylae

I can write short posts. Or at least that's my goal for today, to deliver a short and concise post, quite in contrast with my usual rambling. So, cutting to the chase, our Rhett quote for this week is:

"'They died to the last man at Thermopylae, didn't they, Doctor?' Rhett asked, and his lips twitched with suppressed laughter."

--Gone with the Wind, Chapter XVII

At the beginning of Part Three in the book, where this line is uttered, Margaret Mitchell describes Sherman's troops advance into Georgia in the late spring of 1864. In November of 1863, the Union army won the Battle for Chattanooga, which opened their way to Georgia (Chattanooga, Tennessee was one of the dozen places that claimed the honor to be the "Gateway to the South"). They would be opposed by the Army of Tennessee, under the command of Gen. Joseph E. Johnston, fondly nicknamed Old Joe, and the series of battles that ensued would eventually lead to Atlanta's siege and fall.

General Joseph E. Johnson

But at the time Rhett expresses disbelief at Old Joe's capacity to resist the Yankee attack, in a conversation with Doctor Meade, things were not so grim yet. We can actually date their exchange with a fair degree of precision, for MM mentions that Aunt Pity's party took place in May and Doctor Meade is still convinced that "General Johnston was standing in the mountains like an iron rampart." Those mountains would be the Rocky Face Ridge, that Johnston was forced to abandon on May 12. So, considering that the Spring Campaign started on May 4, that leaves us with a window of one week.

Doctor Meade's reference, picked up by Rhett, is quite obviously one to the Battle of Thermopylae fought by Leonidas' Spartans against the invading Persian army, that greatly outnumbered them. The Spartans resisted for a few days at the mountain pass of Thermopylae, but eventually, as Rhett so graciously points out, they were killed to the last man.

"'Our men have fought without shoes before and without food and won victories. And they will fight again and win! I tell you General Johnston cannot be dislodged! The mountain fastnesses have always been the refuge and the strong forts of invaded peoples from ancient times. Think of--think of Thermopylae!'

Scarlett thought hard but Thermopylae meant nothing to her. 

'They died to the last man at Thermopylae, didn't they, Doctor?' Rhett asked, and his lips twitched with suppressed laughter. 

'Are you being insulting, young man?' 

'Doctor! I beg of you! You misunderstood me! I merely asked for information. My memory of ancient history is poor.'"

--Gone with the Wind, Chapter XVII

There are many things to admire in the scene above. First of all, of course, Rhett's wit and skillful use of ancient history, which allows him to point out the self-defeating character and the irony of Doctor Meade's analogy. But, as usual with Margaret Mitchell's scenes, there is more than one layer to this. 

With historical hindsight, there is actually one resemblance between the two battles. Unlike Leonidas, Old Joe retreated from Rocky Face Ridge, but in both cases the reason why the mountain position was not impregnable, as it should have been, was that the enemy outflanked the resisting armies. Under cover of night, both Sherman and Xerxes, the Persian king (who had been alerted to the existence of a mountain path by a traitor), managed to get their troops behind the enemy lines, avoiding the deadly frontal attack. For Leonidas that spelled the end of his life and the beginning of a heroic  and military legend like few others in history. 

The Battle of Thermopylae is perhaps one of the most often quoted events in ancient history, but it is a particularly nice touch that Doctor Meade, as a Southerner, chose this particular battle. Not only because Sparta, who was ruled by a strict honor code, could to an extent appeal to the Southern ideals of chivalry, but also because this was a battle the Greeks fought against their invaders, which emphasizes the way Doctor Meade and his fellowmen saw their own war--as a war of Northern aggression. By contrast, Sherman referred to Etowah, the river he crossed in his Spring Campaign as "the Rubicon of Georgia," which, alluding to  the famous river Caesar crossed in his march against his own capital, stresses the idea of it being a civil war.

Oh, and that thing about me writing short posts? Obviously a lie. Maybe next time.