Gone With the Wind is, no doubt, one of America's best and most famous works of literature.
Which is probably why I discovered the 1037-page beaut in a middle school library. What with all its rumored positive critical acclaim, plays, and movies, I managed to check it out to see what the fuss was all about. I had never read any reviews about it, so I opened the book with eyes virgin to everything but Scarlett O'Hara's name and Rhett Butler's famous one-liner.
Margaret Mitchell spins a well-developed tale around a spoiled Southern belle named Scarlett O'Hara. Of course, she cannot be without her unforgettable counterparts: Ashley Wilkes, the handsome, empy scholar whom the world chewed and spat out; Melanie Wilkes, the fine soul that has more loyalty than Jesus and Lassie together; and Rhett Butler, the rich scoundrel that always sees right through Scarlett.
With them, Mitchell takes you back to the Civil War, before, during, and after. The story starts in Georgia of 1861, introducing our ruthless heroine with two brothers not unlike Fred and George from Harry Potter. You are shown the other side of the joys and torments, mentally, physically, financially, and emotionally of the Confederacy. Then soon someone winds up scratching their head and wondering who was right and who was wrong.
The story doesn't take your hand and brings you into its world, it snatches you by the scruff of your neck and suddenly the characters' worries are yours. And frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn.