Would 'Gone with the Wind' Get Published Today?
Would “Gone with the Wind” Get Published Today?
By Arelya J. Mitchell
Over the years, I have pretty much assessed that I am a rarity among my friends and colleagues by having actually read the entire novel, “Gone with the Wind”, by Margaret Mitchell (No relation, of course). I figure Margaret must be somewhere in heaven or, at least, gone where the wind has gone and thanking her lucky stars that she published GWTW when she did (1936) and that she received the Pulitzer Prize for fiction when she did (1937). Today, the classic novel would more than likely not be published due to its overall depiction of slaves. Today, descendants of those slaves are mainly known as African Americans and the ‘N-word’ is no longer tolerated due to the state of justifiable political correctness.
Years ago my late uncle, Charles Mitchell (a journalist), said he “hated” the movie because African Americans were depicted as happy slaves. I told him I liked the movie, and that in my mind I just threw all the alleged Black folk happiness out the door and into the garbage can and chalked this depiction up to the time frame in which “Gone with the Wind” was written. Even in this novel where the slave dialect sticks out like an arm in a white cast, I had to once again ditch that part of it into the time frame in which GWTW was written. Once I threw out all of the ‘Black’ parts—except “I don’t know nothin’ ‘bout birthin’ babies, Miz Scarlett,” a line made famous in the movie by the late Butterfly McQueen as General Sherman closed in on Atlanta to literally burn it to the ground. Ironically, Ms. McQueen died in a tragic house fire in Augusta, Georgia, which is about three hours from Atlanta.
For those who have taken the time to see the movie (nearly four hours long) and now categorize it as one of their favorites as I have (still with my brain knocking out the happy slave syndrome), you will find the novel even more enjoyable and astounding. But you will understand why movie mogul David O. Selznick decided to depict Scarlett O’Hara with one child instead of the three she had in the novel, which, of course, is more realistic as self-control was the only birth control back then. Face it, having a slew of babies would have diminished the romantic storyline on the motion picture screen; however, in the novel, it didn’t diminish the conflicted romance between Scarlett and Rhett who didn’t mind pursuing a woman with two ‘young-uns’ and later he would add the third one to permanently kill Scarlett’s chance of ever having that 16-inch waistline. The characters of Scarlett, Rhett, Melanie, Ashley—and yes, Mammy (portrayed by the marvelous Hattie McDaniel) have secured their places in literary folklore. The novel has gone from being spoofed in comedic portrayals by Carol Burnett and Harvey Korman to being reincarnated in the novel “Scarlett” (1991), a sequel by Alexandra Ripley (who had the blessings of the Mitchell family). The latter, in my opinion after having read it, could have remained un-written. In the original, Rhett had pretty much said that he had a weakness for ‘lost causes’, and seeing that Scarlett was a ‘lost cause’ even if he “frankly, didn’t give a damn,” she was going to get him back. Then there was the Black spoof of “The Wind Done Gone” (2001) by African American author Alice Randall. This one ended up in federal court with a cease and desist and other litigation that wasn’t settled until 2002. “Frankly” I couldn’t see why the Mitchell family was so upset over Randall’s version, seeing that it was no worse than Carol Burnett et al having fun with it, and how Carol’s Scarlett wearing the famous full drapery regalia with curtain rod and all, because she ‘saw it in the window and couldn’t resist it’ has now in itself ended up as a television classic. I had the pleasure of reading an advance copy of “The Wind Done Gone” before the federal court litigation, before the ‘Unauthorized Parody’ seal was pressed onto it. In all honesty, I felt a double standard of a Black novelist not having the freedom to spoof white characters—even if Randall did it under the guise of a Black ‘parody’ (more on this point later).
If you take the time (and it does take time but it is still a page turner) to read “Gone with the Wind”, you will appreciate the research, the historical significance with its socio-economic ramifications of the Great War Between the States, and the overall story-telling. And it is a good story in spite of Black caricatures.
Some years back when I was touring Margaret Mitchell’s house in Atlanta and yakking with a tour guide, I could not help but think even on that particular day (well post Civil Rights Movement) that Margaret was at the right place at the right time.
In one sense, Margaret Mitchell would be in the same boat in which many African American novelists have found themselves when they were relegated to writing about the ghetto and sharecropping or any other Black subject in the stereotypical ilk. Only recently has the mainstream publishing industry realized that African Americans can read. And this realization only came when a slew of African American independent publishing houses sprung up to accommodate Black readers who were hungry for non-monolithic Black characters. In the same spirit that it took the commercial world to realize that it could make money off Black History Month, it took mainstream publishing houses to see that they could make money off untapped, unsatisfied Black readers. This Eureka (black gold) moment created in the ‘white/mainstream’ houses what are now euphemistically called “Black Imprints” or “African American Imprints”. The ‘white’ houses began hiring a Black editor or three, and a few Black publicity personnel to serve as ambassadors to Black readers and Black media. Bookstores and retail outlets began sticking in new shelves and sections showcasing these new Black novelists. Gee! They actually discovered that African Americans as in any ‘human’ race had a cross-section of ideas, ideals, characters, socio-economic make-up, preferences, interests, etc. But the sad thing about this is that it has been less than 20 years ago that novelists who just happen to be African American were given a precarious freedom to depict Black characters who did not have to be ghetto-nized or sharecropping-nized. These characters could be professionals, live in a house with indoor plumbing, travel on jets, and speak without the proverbial ‘Negro’ dialect as depicted so prominently in a “Gone with the Wind” where one would not think that a Frederick Douglass, a Hiram Revels, or a Benjamin Banneker existed, as most southern white writers and most white writers in general have a propensity not to go beyond their allusion of a comfort zone (mediocrity) when it comes to African American characters.
Years ago I interviewed Gwendolyn Parker, author of “Trespassing: My Sojourn in The Halls of Privilege”, who told me how hard and frustrating it was to get her second work “Trespassing” published because it related to her life as an upper middle class African American youngster. Gwen, then among a handful of African American women who dared to conquer Wall Street, simply caught hell from publishers with some flat out calling her a liar in so many words because they knew there was no such ‘thing’ as a Black having grown up with maids and all the other accoutrements of white upper middle class America. In literature, they could only phantom Black females in roles of maids or other forms of subserviency, a practice that continues to this day – an example being the ‘mammy-esque portrayal of the Black maid as found in “The Secret Life of Bees” (2002) by Sue Monk Kidd. Of course, Gwen Parker wasn’t lying as she did in fact come from the family that founded the North Carolina Mutual Insurance Company, which to this date remains one of the oldest African American-owned businesses in the nation. It was founded at the height of Jim Crow. This rejection of Gwen Parker depicting her autobiography occurred in the late 1990’s! Underneath it all African American novelists cannot quite understand why in the 21st Century they are not truly allowed to depict white characters when white novelists have always had a perfunctory freedom to depict Black characters and to do so 99.9 percent in stereotypical fashion (as in GWTW) or in their interpretation of the Black rebel as did William Styron in “The Confessions of Nat Turner” (1967) or Harper Lee’s classic “To Kill a Mockingbird” (1960) as society’s victims portrayed from extreme left to extreme right.
This is not to say there is no legitimacy in these Black characters created by white novelists, but must they remain the well from which practically every Black character is drawn? Will the well ever run dry?
The segregation of African American writers and white characters persists pretty much as it did when James Baldwin dared to have a white female protagonist in his “Another Country” and all hell broke lose. One can only think that “Another Country” either got through the cracks of the Black writer-white characters apartheid because James Baldwin was James Baldwin embarking on an edgier 1960’s—1962 to be exact-- when ground-breaking Civil Rights legislation was two years from legally doing away with America’s legal segregation and one year from the famous Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.’s March on Washington. And as aforementioned, Alice Randall caught holy hell for “The Wind Done Gone”.
Again, this is not to say that white novelists should not present their novels and historical treatments of Black figures but rather to say that Black novelists should have that same freedom (privilege) to depict white characters and not always under the auspices of ‘Black Imprints’. Sue Monk Kidd’s “The Secret Life of Bees” certainly was not put on the ‘Black shelves’ of bookstores even though there is a dominant protagonist who is Black. Should “The Confessions of Nat Turner” go onto a “Black Imprint” and onto the shelves of Black novels (or other Black works)? Should John Grisham’s “A Time to Kill” go onto the ‘Black shelves’ seeing that one of his main protagonists is Black? Though I must say that Grisham has managed to be one of the few white novelists to un-stereotype a Black protagonist.
Again, this is not to say that giving space to novels by African American writers is wrong; it is merely to say that this ‘segregation’ of Black writers and white characters should not be the Rule of Literary Law. Yes, I have digressed a bit (and I do plan to elaborate on this digression later in another topic one day before the close of the 21st Century).
All this is to say that a novel is a creature of its time and should be read in that context. GWTW takes its place in the classic category because it was written at the ‘right and ripe’ time by the ‘right’ author, and it was translated into movie legend because it had the ‘right’ producer who chanced it at the ‘right’ time.
But do take heart and know, dear readers, that if Margaret Mitchell were to rise from the dead with this bulky manuscript tucked under her arms, she, too would be walking out of publishing houses with rejection slips… she would be pounding the pavement and her monumental status would be ‘gone with the wind’. And if per chance, Margaret got it published in today’s market, it would be relegated to a slender paperback romance with Fabio on the cover; yet, being a white novelist she still would be allowed to have Black characters who would be one level up from the original depictions and more than likely would land in the Sue Monk Kidd depiction of Black folk where there remains a thin line between Black characters of the 1860’s and 1960’s. Surely, Margaret must have known some Black people who could use ‘you are’ instead of ‘you is’ just as there are Blacks who know some whites who say ‘you is’ instead of ‘you are’.
Margaret Mitchell was a lucky d.o.g. (daughter-of-a-gun) to have written “Gone with the Wind” when she did, and since GWTW made literary history, it should be read with the same respect and discernment as “Uncle Tom’s Cabin” -- by keeping it in its time frame and historical context.
When it comes the Rule of Literary Law that says it’s okay for white novelists to have the freedom to have Black characters (no matter how stereotyped they are) and that Black novelists should only write about Black characters then—well, we have not come a long way, baby, in a publishing industry that by all accounts remains on a level of sophisticated apartheid that screws creativity and treats it as its bitch instead of its lady.
***
Arelya J. Mitchell is an award winning journalist and the author of “Puppy Love”, a novel available on Kindle. She is also a Goodreads author.
By Arelya J. Mitchell
Over the years, I have pretty much assessed that I am a rarity among my friends and colleagues by having actually read the entire novel, “Gone with the Wind”, by Margaret Mitchell (No relation, of course). I figure Margaret must be somewhere in heaven or, at least, gone where the wind has gone and thanking her lucky stars that she published GWTW when she did (1936) and that she received the Pulitzer Prize for fiction when she did (1937). Today, the classic novel would more than likely not be published due to its overall depiction of slaves. Today, descendants of those slaves are mainly known as African Americans and the ‘N-word’ is no longer tolerated due to the state of justifiable political correctness.
Years ago my late uncle, Charles Mitchell (a journalist), said he “hated” the movie because African Americans were depicted as happy slaves. I told him I liked the movie, and that in my mind I just threw all the alleged Black folk happiness out the door and into the garbage can and chalked this depiction up to the time frame in which “Gone with the Wind” was written. Even in this novel where the slave dialect sticks out like an arm in a white cast, I had to once again ditch that part of it into the time frame in which GWTW was written. Once I threw out all of the ‘Black’ parts—except “I don’t know nothin’ ‘bout birthin’ babies, Miz Scarlett,” a line made famous in the movie by the late Butterfly McQueen as General Sherman closed in on Atlanta to literally burn it to the ground. Ironically, Ms. McQueen died in a tragic house fire in Augusta, Georgia, which is about three hours from Atlanta.
For those who have taken the time to see the movie (nearly four hours long) and now categorize it as one of their favorites as I have (still with my brain knocking out the happy slave syndrome), you will find the novel even more enjoyable and astounding. But you will understand why movie mogul David O. Selznick decided to depict Scarlett O’Hara with one child instead of the three she had in the novel, which, of course, is more realistic as self-control was the only birth control back then. Face it, having a slew of babies would have diminished the romantic storyline on the motion picture screen; however, in the novel, it didn’t diminish the conflicted romance between Scarlett and Rhett who didn’t mind pursuing a woman with two ‘young-uns’ and later he would add the third one to permanently kill Scarlett’s chance of ever having that 16-inch waistline. The characters of Scarlett, Rhett, Melanie, Ashley—and yes, Mammy (portrayed by the marvelous Hattie McDaniel) have secured their places in literary folklore. The novel has gone from being spoofed in comedic portrayals by Carol Burnett and Harvey Korman to being reincarnated in the novel “Scarlett” (1991), a sequel by Alexandra Ripley (who had the blessings of the Mitchell family). The latter, in my opinion after having read it, could have remained un-written. In the original, Rhett had pretty much said that he had a weakness for ‘lost causes’, and seeing that Scarlett was a ‘lost cause’ even if he “frankly, didn’t give a damn,” she was going to get him back. Then there was the Black spoof of “The Wind Done Gone” (2001) by African American author Alice Randall. This one ended up in federal court with a cease and desist and other litigation that wasn’t settled until 2002. “Frankly” I couldn’t see why the Mitchell family was so upset over Randall’s version, seeing that it was no worse than Carol Burnett et al having fun with it, and how Carol’s Scarlett wearing the famous full drapery regalia with curtain rod and all, because she ‘saw it in the window and couldn’t resist it’ has now in itself ended up as a television classic. I had the pleasure of reading an advance copy of “The Wind Done Gone” before the federal court litigation, before the ‘Unauthorized Parody’ seal was pressed onto it. In all honesty, I felt a double standard of a Black novelist not having the freedom to spoof white characters—even if Randall did it under the guise of a Black ‘parody’ (more on this point later).
If you take the time (and it does take time but it is still a page turner) to read “Gone with the Wind”, you will appreciate the research, the historical significance with its socio-economic ramifications of the Great War Between the States, and the overall story-telling. And it is a good story in spite of Black caricatures.
Some years back when I was touring Margaret Mitchell’s house in Atlanta and yakking with a tour guide, I could not help but think even on that particular day (well post Civil Rights Movement) that Margaret was at the right place at the right time.
In one sense, Margaret Mitchell would be in the same boat in which many African American novelists have found themselves when they were relegated to writing about the ghetto and sharecropping or any other Black subject in the stereotypical ilk. Only recently has the mainstream publishing industry realized that African Americans can read. And this realization only came when a slew of African American independent publishing houses sprung up to accommodate Black readers who were hungry for non-monolithic Black characters. In the same spirit that it took the commercial world to realize that it could make money off Black History Month, it took mainstream publishing houses to see that they could make money off untapped, unsatisfied Black readers. This Eureka (black gold) moment created in the ‘white/mainstream’ houses what are now euphemistically called “Black Imprints” or “African American Imprints”. The ‘white’ houses began hiring a Black editor or three, and a few Black publicity personnel to serve as ambassadors to Black readers and Black media. Bookstores and retail outlets began sticking in new shelves and sections showcasing these new Black novelists. Gee! They actually discovered that African Americans as in any ‘human’ race had a cross-section of ideas, ideals, characters, socio-economic make-up, preferences, interests, etc. But the sad thing about this is that it has been less than 20 years ago that novelists who just happen to be African American were given a precarious freedom to depict Black characters who did not have to be ghetto-nized or sharecropping-nized. These characters could be professionals, live in a house with indoor plumbing, travel on jets, and speak without the proverbial ‘Negro’ dialect as depicted so prominently in a “Gone with the Wind” where one would not think that a Frederick Douglass, a Hiram Revels, or a Benjamin Banneker existed, as most southern white writers and most white writers in general have a propensity not to go beyond their allusion of a comfort zone (mediocrity) when it comes to African American characters.
Years ago I interviewed Gwendolyn Parker, author of “Trespassing: My Sojourn in The Halls of Privilege”, who told me how hard and frustrating it was to get her second work “Trespassing” published because it related to her life as an upper middle class African American youngster. Gwen, then among a handful of African American women who dared to conquer Wall Street, simply caught hell from publishers with some flat out calling her a liar in so many words because they knew there was no such ‘thing’ as a Black having grown up with maids and all the other accoutrements of white upper middle class America. In literature, they could only phantom Black females in roles of maids or other forms of subserviency, a practice that continues to this day – an example being the ‘mammy-esque portrayal of the Black maid as found in “The Secret Life of Bees” (2002) by Sue Monk Kidd. Of course, Gwen Parker wasn’t lying as she did in fact come from the family that founded the North Carolina Mutual Insurance Company, which to this date remains one of the oldest African American-owned businesses in the nation. It was founded at the height of Jim Crow. This rejection of Gwen Parker depicting her autobiography occurred in the late 1990’s! Underneath it all African American novelists cannot quite understand why in the 21st Century they are not truly allowed to depict white characters when white novelists have always had a perfunctory freedom to depict Black characters and to do so 99.9 percent in stereotypical fashion (as in GWTW) or in their interpretation of the Black rebel as did William Styron in “The Confessions of Nat Turner” (1967) or Harper Lee’s classic “To Kill a Mockingbird” (1960) as society’s victims portrayed from extreme left to extreme right.
This is not to say there is no legitimacy in these Black characters created by white novelists, but must they remain the well from which practically every Black character is drawn? Will the well ever run dry?
The segregation of African American writers and white characters persists pretty much as it did when James Baldwin dared to have a white female protagonist in his “Another Country” and all hell broke lose. One can only think that “Another Country” either got through the cracks of the Black writer-white characters apartheid because James Baldwin was James Baldwin embarking on an edgier 1960’s—1962 to be exact-- when ground-breaking Civil Rights legislation was two years from legally doing away with America’s legal segregation and one year from the famous Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.’s March on Washington. And as aforementioned, Alice Randall caught holy hell for “The Wind Done Gone”.
Again, this is not to say that white novelists should not present their novels and historical treatments of Black figures but rather to say that Black novelists should have that same freedom (privilege) to depict white characters and not always under the auspices of ‘Black Imprints’. Sue Monk Kidd’s “The Secret Life of Bees” certainly was not put on the ‘Black shelves’ of bookstores even though there is a dominant protagonist who is Black. Should “The Confessions of Nat Turner” go onto a “Black Imprint” and onto the shelves of Black novels (or other Black works)? Should John Grisham’s “A Time to Kill” go onto the ‘Black shelves’ seeing that one of his main protagonists is Black? Though I must say that Grisham has managed to be one of the few white novelists to un-stereotype a Black protagonist.
Again, this is not to say that giving space to novels by African American writers is wrong; it is merely to say that this ‘segregation’ of Black writers and white characters should not be the Rule of Literary Law. Yes, I have digressed a bit (and I do plan to elaborate on this digression later in another topic one day before the close of the 21st Century).
All this is to say that a novel is a creature of its time and should be read in that context. GWTW takes its place in the classic category because it was written at the ‘right and ripe’ time by the ‘right’ author, and it was translated into movie legend because it had the ‘right’ producer who chanced it at the ‘right’ time.
But do take heart and know, dear readers, that if Margaret Mitchell were to rise from the dead with this bulky manuscript tucked under her arms, she, too would be walking out of publishing houses with rejection slips… she would be pounding the pavement and her monumental status would be ‘gone with the wind’. And if per chance, Margaret got it published in today’s market, it would be relegated to a slender paperback romance with Fabio on the cover; yet, being a white novelist she still would be allowed to have Black characters who would be one level up from the original depictions and more than likely would land in the Sue Monk Kidd depiction of Black folk where there remains a thin line between Black characters of the 1860’s and 1960’s. Surely, Margaret must have known some Black people who could use ‘you are’ instead of ‘you is’ just as there are Blacks who know some whites who say ‘you is’ instead of ‘you are’.
Margaret Mitchell was a lucky d.o.g. (daughter-of-a-gun) to have written “Gone with the Wind” when she did, and since GWTW made literary history, it should be read with the same respect and discernment as “Uncle Tom’s Cabin” -- by keeping it in its time frame and historical context.
When it comes the Rule of Literary Law that says it’s okay for white novelists to have the freedom to have Black characters (no matter how stereotyped they are) and that Black novelists should only write about Black characters then—well, we have not come a long way, baby, in a publishing industry that by all accounts remains on a level of sophisticated apartheid that screws creativity and treats it as its bitch instead of its lady.
***
Arelya J. Mitchell is an award winning journalist and the author of “Puppy Love”, a novel available on Kindle. She is also a Goodreads author.
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