Of Scarlett and Other Heroines : An Interview with Author Erin Blakemore

Editor's Note: Here's the promised interview with author Erin Blakemore, whose first book, The Heroine’s Bookshelf: Life Lessons, from Jane Austen to Laura Ingalls Wilder just came out earlier this week. It was a great pleasure for us to get to chat with Erin about Scarlett, Margaret Mitchell and Gone with the Wind in general and we think you'll find her insights  very interesting as well. Enjoy!

1. Erin, tell us a little about your book. What was your inspiration for starting this project and how did you go about selecting your material, deciding which heroines would feature in the book and which ones would have to be left out?

I've always wanted to write a book about books, but this book in particular started with a conversation with my agent about (of all things) how the Ingalls family might react to the publishing crisis of late 2008. I put together a proposal and outline and once the project sold to Harper, I finalized the character list with my editor after a long process of painful elimination.

2. Your book explores twelve very different female figures from classic literature. Of this group, who is your favorite heroine and why?

Wow...this question is almost impossible to answer. I must say I have an increased sense of appreciation for Jo March after learning more about Louisa May Alcott's struggles as a daughter, writer, and woman.

3. What do you hope readers will take away from your book?

I like to think there's plenty in the book for both the hardcore book addict and the dabbling reader. Overall, I want to impart my passion for these books, characters, and authors, and encourage people to read and reread when times get tough.

4. Gone with the Wind is a story about a crisis, published in a time of economic crisis. You briefly mention the current economic situation in your preface. Is Scarlett O’Hara’s example as inspiring today as it was for readers in the ‘30s?

Honestly, I think Gone With the Wind and Scarlett's story are examples of how bad things can truly get. If you're not down to shoving your wallet in your nephew's diaper as Yankees charge up the steps of your ancestral home, you may not have hit rock bottom quite yet. Like Scarlett, most of us will make do with what we're dealt, even when it seems we can't go on. I'd say that's great solace for uncertain economic times.

5. In the book, you mention that you first read Gone with the Wind in sixth grade. What were you initial impressions of the novel and how has your relationship with Gone with Wind changed as you’ve become an adult?

Surprisingly, upon many, many rereadings the book has not grown any less compelling (though my own impressions of romance and love have changed a lot since my first reading). Now I see the relationships in the book quite differently. As a child who had a contentious relationship with many of the women and girls in my life, it was easy to dismiss the book's treatment of the relationship between Melanie and Scarlett. As I've grown up, I've come to recognize the true mastery and sensitivity of those passages. What a monumental study of female relationships and the true meaning of love-hate.

6. One of the aims of your book is to show how an author’s life and personality are reflected in the their writing. When it comes to Margaret Mitchell, you say Gone with the Wind was an episode in her “lifelong struggle to make sense of a tradition-bound world that expected her to content herself with her family name and her deft grasp of Southern customs.” Do you see Gone with the Wind as her way of criticizing that society or rather justifying it and making peace with it?

Great question. Mitchell herself acknowledged that she was born and bred to tell a Southern story, but I think she did so on her own terms. I see Gone with the Wind as her attempt to reconcile her rebellion with her birthright, just like Scarlett must reconcile her heritage as a planter's daughter with her fundamental discomfort around "good Southern women." The result is so much juicier and more complex than a one-sided treatment could ever be.

7. A puzzling aspect given how close Margaret Mitchell was to Scarlett in some aspects is that she considered Melanie to be the novel’s true heroine. Scarlett definitely overshadows her in Gone with the Wind, but is Melanie on a par with some of the other heroines you discuss in your book?

Though I can't help but think that Mitchell's Melanie remarks were her way of deflecting conversation about how what Scarlett did or didn't reflect on her own character, I have grown to appreciate Melanie much more with the years. Remember when Frank Kennedy muses that a "he had caught a tropic bird, all flame and jewel color, when a wren would have served him just as well. In fact, much better."? Melanie is the wren, the unassuming one, the steadfast woman and a definite heroine in her own right. But her flaws are never deep (or exposed) enough to string me along like Scarlett's. One knows that Melanie will always opt for good over bad, but one waits for Scarlett to choose.

8. You describe Scarlett as “literature's most lovable bitch." What do you think makes her an admirable character despite her shortcomings?

Scarlett is a fighter, a wounded warrior, and that ability to charge into battle on behalf of herself and her loved ones despite the most devastating circumstances is something to love and admire. Like every Gone with the Wind fan I long to know what Scarlett the older woman would do...would she grow into that impulse to fight or keep wounding herself with it? Would she change, or go on in perpetual denial? I guess we'll never know.

9. Would you say Scarlett O’Hara is a feminist icon?

Though she kicks ass and takes names, Scarlett is far too obsessed with the opinions of men to qualify as a feminist icon for me. But the part of the book in which she realizes she could run Frank Kennedy's store better than Frank Kennedy himself is among my favorite feminist passages in literature.

10. The heroines in your book all have different personalities and stand for different values. Which of these women do you think Scarlett O’Hara would have gotten along with, if any?

Not many, given that it would mean sharing the spotlight! I could see a grudging truce with women like Lizzie Bennet, Celie, and Jo March. Jane Eyre would cancel her out entirely, while I can see Claudine fitting in nicely in a New Orleans scene complete with enormous crawfish and two dashing husbands.

11. At one point during the proposal scene, Rhett Butler asks Scarlett “Did you ever in your novel reading come across the old situation of the disinterested wife falling in love with her own husband?” Of course, Scarlett never willingly opened a book, but if she did, do you think she could have learned something from other literary heroines? If you could choose one heroine (from any time frame) whose story could have changed Scarlett O’Hara’s life, who would it be?

Ah, but if she'd read books, would she really have learned from them? I would gladly introduce Scarlett to Katie Nolan of A Tree Grows in Brooklyn, whose own gritty temperament and can-do attitude would have earned Scarlett's grudging respect and taught her a thing or two about holding your own.

12. One of the features of your book is a little section called “Literary Sisters” where you highlight other literary characters that are close to the heroine in the respective chapter. One of Scarlett’s literary sisters is Lily Bart from Edith Wharton’s House of Mirth, another 19th century belle that fights to maintain her social and economic status. It’s a very interesting topic of compare and contrast. What would you say are some characteristics Scarlett has and Lily doesn’t?

I'd say that Scarlett is willing to let everything go, while Lily clings to the trappings of the society she's always known. While Scarlett soon learns to rely on physical labor and grit, Lily grasps the chains that bind her to her own time (the corset strings, shall we say?) more strongly. Also, amusingly, Lily is a discreet woman despite her indiscretions, while Scarlett's inability to hold her tongue or keep her peace long gives Gone with the Wind a constant feeling of motion and peril.

13. Continuing from the previous question, you also list Maud Bailey and Christabel LaMotte from the novel Possession as Scarlett O’Hara’s literary sisters. This is a subtler choice, given the difference in time frame and intellectual background between Byatt’s heroines and Scarlett. What were the main similarities that made you choose them?

Like Scarlett, Maud and Christabel both represent vitality, sexuality, and promise. The chase for Possession, with all the word's layers and meanings, seems to parallel the many futile chases in Gone with the Wind...Scarlett's unfulfilled passion for Ashley, Rhett's desire and abhorrence of Scarlett, a society's chase for relevance and survival after the worst has happened. Finally, both books (and all three characters) are far more dense and complex than they seem at first glance!

14. You talk both about Scarlett’s qualities and her amazing struggle to survive, but also about the price she has to pay for her way of dealing with things. What do you think is the most important lesson we have to learn from her? Is her story ultimately an inspiration or a warning?

To me, Scarlett is a story of a gamble gone wrong, a woman who risks everything and then loses everything for her pains. Ultimately, she's an antiheroine and a bad example of what happens when you dump everything out with the bathwater...but one that we love to read and rediscover. As Grandma Fontaine says, "...There’s something unnatural about a woman who isn’t afraid…always save something to fear—even as you save something to love." We can take that message to heart or, like Scarlett, choose to meet that obtuse advice with a deaf ear and a frightened heart like Scarlett's. Either way, life within the struggle promises to be a hell of a ride. 

 

Liked what you read? You can order Erin's book here. 

Poster of the Week

Scarlett and Rhett get the single-color treatment in this set of matching Spanish posters (date unknown). Rather trippy looking, don't you think?

Images from movieposterdb.com.

The Heroine's Bookshelf: Life Lessons, from Jane Austen to Laura Ingalls Wilder

Editors' Note: A while back, we received a lovely email from Erin Blakemore, who had some very kind words for the blog. But that's not the cool part. This is: you see, not only is Erin is a longtime Gone with the Wind fan, she is also a first-time author! Her first book, The Heroine’s Bookshelf: Life Lessons, from Jane Austen to Laura Ingalls Wilder, debuts in bookstores today.

Erin was kind enough to send us a review copy of her book, which explores classic literary heroines and includes a chapter on our much-loved Scarlett O'Hara. So today we're delighted to offer you a look at The Heroine's Bookshelf.  Also, be sure to stay tuned later this week for an interview  with Erin about her book, literary heroines and, of course, GWTW and Scarlett. Thank you to Erin for her generosity and kindness in sharing her book with us. Congratulations to you!

--iso and Bugsie

It starts with a heroine—a larger-than-life, unforgettable heroine. Boil down the many divergent reasons why all of us are fans of Gone with the Wind and you’ll find that the reality is actually quite simple: the story of Scarlett O’Hara moved us at some intrinsic level, so much so that we return to her story again and again, trying to unlock what made her tick, sharing in her triumphs, mourning in her epic defeats. Scarlett’s journey is both her own and ours. 

And it is this very kind of intersection—the literary journey of the heroine and the emotional journey of reader—that Erin Blakemore explores in her insightful new book, The Heroine’s Bookshelf: Life Lessons, from Jane Austen to Laura Ingalls Wilder. The Heroine’s Bookshelf takes twelve classic heroines down from the bookshelf to explore the enduring values modern women can learn from their literary sisters. You’ll find many familiar and well-loved characters within its pages: Jane Eyre, Elizabeth Bennet, Jo March, and Anne Shirley, among others (including Scarlett O’Hara for us Windies).

The Heroine’s Bookshelf examines each heroine in light of her defining characteristic (ex: Anne Shirley embodies ‘Happiness,’ while Scarlett O’Hara naturally represents ‘Fight’). Blakemore offers reflections, at turns both poignant and funny, about how women can thoughtfully apply these timeless values in a modern world that can be infinitely harried and complex, one that all too often does not allow for moments of introspection. Each chapter also ends with two fun tidbits, “Read This Book” (life situations especially suited to the heroine’s novel) and “Literary Sisters” (a list of literary characters similar to the heroine).

But The Heroine’s Bookshelf doesn’t just discuss these remarkable heroines’ stories in a vacuum. For behind every literary heroine stands another powerful and even more important woman—the author of each book. Blakemore weaves in insights about how each author’s life informed the literary world she chose to create, from great personal joys, in some cases, to devastating life blows, in others. Taken together, the vignettes of both authors and literary heroines come together to offer a meditation about the nature of writing, the enduring meaning of literature and the power of the human spirit. 

Ultimately, there are many adjectives to describe The Heroine’s Bookshelf. “Clever,” “touching” and “insightful” are but some. But if we had to pick just one it would be “timely.” In today’s world, fraught with economic turmoil and flooded with problems large and small, who couldn’t use a little inspiration from some of the bravest, coolest women in literature? We here at How You Do Run On obviously can’t turn that down. We really enjoyed this charming book and we know you will too.

So be sure to check The Heroine's Bookshelf and reacquaint yourselves all over again with the tremendous heroines you know and love. You won't be disappointed.  In fact, it might just make you square your shoulders, gather up your strength and declare "Tomorrow is another day..."

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. 

Rue de la Paix

In keeping with our look yesterday at period inspirations for Scarlett's white dress, here's a little collage I made of Scarlett in all her white-ruffled glory at Tara. Enjoy!

Scarlett O'Hara at Tara by gwtwscrapbook featuring gold plated jewelry

Doppelganger Dresses, Part 7: Scarlett's White Ruffled Dress

Doppelganger Dresses returns from a small foray into accessories and back to our main focus--that's right, dresses! And this week we're highlighting one of my favorite dresses from Gone with the Wind, the white ruffled dress that Scarlett wears in the opening scene. It's such a great 'statement' dress, conveying volumes about Scarlett's pampered existence and coquettish personality from the very first moments of the film. I love it because it's so full and flouncy. It's also a familiar find in fashion plates.

After the jump, you'll find two period styles that resemble Scarlett's white ruffled frock. One exception to note, though: both of our look-a-like dresses are long-sleeved. Day dresses were universally long-sleeved in the 1860s. But don't let the discrepancy between history and Hollywood keep you from enjoying the fashion plates.  

And as always, we welcome your thoughts. Which one looks more like Scarlett's dress to you? Let us know in the comments. 

Mastering the Art of Ladyhood: The Education of Ellen Robillard

“From the day when Ellen first came to Tara, the place had been transformed.  If she was only fifteen years old, she was nevertheless ready for the responsibilities of the mistress of a plantation.  Before marriage, young girls must be, above all other things, sweet, gentle, beautiful and ornamental, but, after marriage, they were expected to manage households that numbered a hundred people or more, white and black, and they were trained with that in view.

"Ellen had been given this preparation for marriage which any well-brought-up young lady received, and she also had Mammy… She quickly brought order, dignity and grace into Gerald's household, and she gave Tara a beauty it had never had before.”

--Gone with the Wind, Chapter III

Gone with the Wind presents Ellen Robillard O’Hara as many things—a vivacious young belle, a melancholic woman doomed by a star-crossed love affair, Scarlett’s childhood idol, the embodiment of Southern ladyhood. We know Ellen’s sedate reign at Tara transformed Scarlett’s girlhood home into one imbued with “order, dignity, and grace” as MM describes in the passage above. But exactly what kind of schooling did young aristocratic women like Ellen receive towards achieving this end?

Before we move forward with answering that question, let’s quickly reacquaint ourselves with Ellen Robillard O’Hara’s vital stats. These clues will prove important in deciphering what kind of education a young lady like Ellen would have received. From her age (32) at the start of GWTW, we know that Ellen was born in 1829, the child of a coastal aristocratic family of French descent. She was raised in Savannah, Georgia, of course, but her mother’s family lived in and then fled Haiti during the revolution of 1791. Ellen grew up reared in the ways of the Southern elite, became a charming belle, and then married Gerald O’Hara at the tender age of 15.

Why is this all important? Several reasons. First and most importantly, women’s education in the antebellum South has traditionally received rather light attention from historians, meaning some level of detective work is involved in writing a post like this one. Secondly, American education in the early 19th century was in a constant state of flux. There were many different formats of schooling available and advances in education tended to blur into one another. So Ellen’s background is the very best evidence we have to examine what her formal education might have looked like.

Before we begin, some quick notes on sources: Much of my research for this post comes from a tremendous book called The Education of the Southern Belle: Higher Education and Student Socialization in the Antebellum South by Christine Anne Farnham. This book is also rounded out by a memoir of an antebellum girl of Ellen’s generation: Social Life in Old New Orleans, Being Recollections of my Girlhood by Eliza Moore Chinn McHatten Ripley. Eliza Ripley was born in 1832, making her three years younger than the lovely but fictitious Ellen Robillard. She also grew up in very similar societal context--planter class, living prominent Southern city with French influence. 

Fair warning: there's a lot of information to take in here, so I'm going to try to break it down as much as possible. First up is a brief overview of women's education in the South from the late colonial era through the early antebellum period.  Using this, we'll then move on to examining in greater detail what kinds of things a lady of Ellen's social stature would have learned in school.  

An Overview of Women's Education in the South 

By the mid 1700s, French schools started to became a means for girls' education in the South. These schools were largely concentrated in bigger coastal cities and operated by unmarried women, widows, or husband-and-wife teacher teams. As the name suggests, instruction in French was a core part of the curriculum, along with writing, reading, arithmetic, and needlework.  Instruction in the ornamental arts (dancing, music, drawing, and handicrafts) was an essential focus as well. Evidence indicates that French schools were likely more prominent in the South than the North. 

Why? First, Southern society was aristocratic in nature and, as such, sought to model itself upon European nobility and manners. Knowledge of French was considered to be an barometer of upper-class status. But the predominance of French schools was also likely a matter of mere geography. The South was a stone’s throw from the Caribbean—and many native French speakers originated from the Caribbean, particularly as immigrants fleeing the Haitian Revolution.   

French schools varied from small day schools to posh boarding schools with a number of additional academic subjects, such as history, philosophy, and geography. French schools were popular among the Southern elite, as they served two essential functions.  First, the schools afforded young belles the opportunity to cultivate "refinement" and master womanly arts such as needlework, French, and proper etiquette. But just as importantly, French schools offered girls the chance to mingle amongst the proper social set and thus expand their horizons for their true calling--marriage.  Because education, as we will soon see,  was largely designed towards this end, emphasizing the veneer of learning over, well, actual learning. 

But there's one more advancement in women's education that we need to note before moving on our subject list. And that is academies. Academies for girls began to appear in the late 1700s and gradually supplanted the earlier French schools throughout the South. But this transition was a slow one and the difference in educational offerings  between French schools and academies tends to be hazy. But one key distinction exists:  unlike French schools, academies emphasized academic subjects over the decorative arts (music, dancing, painting, needlework, etc.), minimizing these courses to elective offerings. 

Still with me? There's extra credit for all those pupils who follow me after the jump...that and a full curriculum of ladylike subjects a well-bred young girl like Ellen Robillard would have studied in school.