Mitchell has my upmost respect. Her protagonist finds a way to resonate with us all, whether it be through her tenacity, shrewdness, petulance, or her survival instinct.
Habitually deemed as a romance, “Gone with the Wind” is anything but. Despite her insistence that society not seeing her as she truly is, Scarlett finally sees that she is misunderstood as tragically as she misunderstood herself. Love becomes something that is withheld from her reach and her charms fall flat when faced with the tragedy of the old south.
Scarlett, the epitome of strength and survival, falls short when faced with the true meaning of love and sacirifice. She warms her heart with pride and wealth—both of which she grasps tightly in the face of the reconstruction and poverty. She earns the love and respect of few, and scorns everyone around her in turn.
Mitchell cunningly uses a third-person limited point of view to charm her readers. Through Scarlett’s eyes, we mourn the loss of the Confederacy and fear the invasion of the Yankees—despite our own political and moral views.
Mitchell wields the sharp weapon of psychic distance and pulls her readers in with a violent curiosity and leaves them with a desolate feeling of loss.