To the unschooled traveler, the very suggestion that Gone With the Wind is the South’s second bible seems, well...a bit cliché. The very thought that Margaret Mitchell’s epic romance would be so revered in the South nearly 65 years after its first publication often elicits a smug "frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn" from some unenlightened individual of foreign descent (usually a Yankee) in the crowd. But when tour guide and Charleston historian, Jane Kiser, steps up to respectfully readjust a few attitudes, no one ever, EVER forgets that in the Holy City of Charleston, it’s a sin to use God and Scarlett’s name in vain.
Kiser often begins her Charleston tours with a little education about the pre-Civil War South. "The first thing you must realize," says Kiser in her authentic Charleston accent, "is that all that appeared on the surface, all this wonderful gracious way of living was only for the 15 percent of the population with the money and power. Women were chattel, and as such were little mindless bits of fluff who were put on pedestals and expected to host parties and have babies, and that was about it. Having no work to do, these ruling class women were waited on hand and foot. They even had slaves to brush their hair."
After a pregnant pause, Kiser, in her most provocative tone asks the weighty question of the day. "But was there contentment?"
She contends that perhaps the women were content on the surface, but the diaries penned in the 1860s reveal many great and strong women women like Kate Stone, and Sarah Morgan, and Mary Boykin Chesnut, whose day-to-day diary of the Civil War years is today considered one of the most important documents in Southern history.
"I think Margaret Mitchell displayed keen insight into Southern mentality when she wrote Gone With the Wind," suggests Kiser. "We jokingly call it the second bible here, but its a fairly accurate statement. If you remember, Scarlett went from being a little twit worrying about her 16-inch waistline to a strong woman running an empire. Scarlett represents the many little mindless bits of fluff who were left here in Charleston with their children and their slaves while their glorious young men went off to do battle. And soon deprivation set in, and hardship set in. The female who had never washed a dish or made a bed had to feed her babies had to survive. And thats when she showed her true grit.
"And with the days of reconstruction arrived the carpetbaggers and the scallywags words that still curl the Southerners top lip with contempt. And they told the woman the taxes are due on your fine old house right here on the waterfront, and she said all I have is this worthless Confederate paper, and my babies are hungry, and I cannot pay the taxes. But they didnt care and they took the family homes. And property to a Southerner is practically his soul, definitely his blood. So these women dug in their heels and they fought back because theyd had enough of being dictated to. And they hid their family silver, and they sold grandmamas diamond rings, and they paid taxes, and they fed babies, and they held on for dear life. And from that moment to this, there has never been a mindless bit of fluff in the South."
Today, Scarletts legacy is reflected in the fine old homes that line the historic downtown streets. Strong Charleston women are, in large part, credited for leading the charge in the preservation movement that saved many of the old mansions beginning with the Joseph Manigault House, which had been slated for demolition to make room for a service station and parking lot. It was a woman who, having had enough of the disgraceful slum tenements on East Bay Street, began renovating one only to uncover priceless cypress paneling. Her discovery inspired others, and lo and behold, Charlestons Rainbow Row was born.
Thankfully, the essence of Scarlett lives on here. Without the vision of the many women who have played Scarletts role through the last decades, perhaps the charming, gracious Charleston we know today would be gone with the wind.
To the learned traveler, the very suggestion that Margaret Mitchells classic 1936 novel is the Souths second bible seems fitting. The learned traveler smiles knowingly, remembering the energy and rebellion of the fiery Scarlett, and lifts a glass in her honor.
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