What's a blanc mange?
We recently passed the 78th anniversary of GWTW's original publication. The novel is older than my parents and the events of Scarlett's life take place approximately 150 years before the present day, but MMs word choice is strikingly modern, isn't it? The Civil War and the Reconstruction era are practically ancient history to us today, yet there are very few phrases in this novel that leave me scratching my head in confusion. I spent the past month watching The World Cup and it is much more difficult for me to understand the rules of soccer and the worldwide fascination with all those flopping pretty-boys with funny names than it is for me to understand Scarlett and the gang. To put it another way, at this point I think I'd have a much better conversation with Ashley and Melly than I ever could with Messi and Neymar.
Except--
What's a blanc mange?
Chapter 47 of GWTW opens with a very bummed out, fairly drunk Scarlet ruminating on her sins on the day of Frank's funeral. She's feeling down and lonely, which is understandable given that 1.) her husband is dead, 2.) it's sort of all her fault, and 3.) even if it's not her fault, everybody else thinks it's all her fault. Scarlett never has had any girlfriends in the novel beside Melly, and even Melly isn't there to comfort the recently widowed protagonist. Everybody paid their respects to Frank, and in doing so many, many of the Atlanta town's folk brought blanc mange. I had to google blanc mange in order to figure out what it was, and precisely what message MM was trying to send by emphasizing this particular dessert. And here's what I found:
Blancmange (/bləˈmɒnʒ/ or /bləˈmɑːndʒ/, from French blanc-manger French pronunciation: [blɑ̃mɑ̃ʒe]), also known as shape, is a sweet dessert commonly made with milk or cream and sugar thickened with gelatin, cornstarch or Irish moss[1] (a source of carrageenan), and often flavored with almonds. It is usually set in a mould and served cold (WIKIPEDIA).
Blanc mange looks like a big white blob. I tried to convince my mother to help me make some this weekend, but she declined. Because who in the hell would want to eat something so bland and unappetizing? It's almost as if blanc mange is the Frank Kennedy of desserts, something that's just sort of boring and bland and there. I'm not exactly certain what other desserts people in that part of the world traditionally eat during times of bereavement, but...it wouldn't have killed the neighbors to bring over some peach pie, right? I realize it's winter and peaches are therefore probably out of season, but still.
No wonder our girl hasn't had much to eat, right?
So perhaps Scarlett's inebriation in this scene isn't really her fault. The first rule of drinking is to eat something first in order to coat your stomach and avoid getting tipsy too fast, and who in the hell would want to eat blanc mange?
Every college student in America knows that you have to pace yourself when you binge, but in the 19th century nobody apparently told women when and how to drink because, as we learn later, there was absolutely no possibility that a woman like Scarlett (i.e. upper class, white, attractive, feminine) would ever turn to hard liquor to escape the pressures of her life. Lots of men were alcoholics I guess, but the men Scarlett knows are cultured, mannered alcoholics in the style of the boys from Southern Charm, not the sullen, dangerous drunks our girl encountered the day Sherman took Atlanta. Actually, come to think of it, I'm not sure if we're supposed to think that Scarlett is actually the only female alcoholic in upper class Atlanta. After all, we know very, very little about the private lives of the women in this novel, and there's a distinct possibility that every single one of them drinks booze for breakfast.
Anyway, so here we are.
The stage is set, isn't it? Frank Kennedy is dead, Scarlett is on the cusp of retiring and heading home to Tara, and she's actually sort of remorseful for once. As a matter of fact, Scarlett's depression and binge drinking have combined to give her a sort of clear-eyed sobriety that allows her to step outside of herself and her own problems and her obsession with Ashley for a few precious moments. Scarlett normally doesn't pay much attention to Rhett whenever he's around. She rarely takes much time to consider his motivations or evaluate his words, and she's always sort of distracted whenever he starts talking. But not here. And as their conversation unfolds Scarlett has a few of her rare moments of insight.
"Sometimes she thought that all the people she had ever known were strangers except Rhett."
And this is where...I mean, just think about that for a moment. Scarlett loved both of her parents, she loves Ashley, and she loves/respects Melly, but all those relations are strangers except Rhett. Of course Scarlett muddies the waters almost immediately by padding this observation with a spot-on but somehow off base evaluation of Rhett as "someone who was bad and dishonorable and a cheat and a liar," and yes he is all of those things. Or is he?
He may be bad. I'll give you that. He owns a whorehouse and gambles for a living, so he's not exactly an angel. But whom has he dishonored? And didn't the folks he cheated sort of deserve to be cheated? Interestingly enough, of all the characters in GWTW who are supposed to be honorable, Rhett is the only one who's not a slave owner. I realize MM's views on the institution probably differ from mine (probably), but surely that counts for something? And as for lying...actually, I've found that Rhett tells more truths per sentence than anybody else in the novel. He talks in riddles most of the time, but what's wrong with that? Even Jesus spoke in riddles and metaphors to get his point across, ya'll.
So Scarlett's assessment of Rhett is incorrect. But she thinks it's correct because she is still unable to see him clearly, because she cannot see the true nature of things, because she is still caught up in doing a weird comparison between Rhett and Ashley. Ashley is supposed to be the honorable one, so Rhett therefore must be a horrible cheat and all of that, I guess.
So anyway, this is going to be a long post because Chapter 47 contains another one of those lengthy conversations that form a linchpin in the novel. The flow of the conversation goes like this:
I. Scarlett confesses her sins. Rhett makes her feel better.
II. Scarlett explains away all her bad behavior by telling him about her nightmare.
III. Rhett asks Scarlett to marry him. She says no. Because she doesn't love him.
IV. He kisses her.
V. She changes her mind. After all, he's rich and she's "fond" of him.
He's quite the kisser, isn't he?
I don't love everything about GWTW the movie, but Gable and Leigh do a great job with this scene. Gable looks very debonair when he arrives in Pitty's parlor, but he's also very physical and imposing and masculine which is quite a difficult combination. Very few actors can manage to be charming, funny, sexy-as-sin, dominating, and dominated all in the same scene but he does it here. Maybe Steve McQueen, maybe Indian Jones/Sabrina Harrison Ford, definitely Robert Redford, but other than that I can't think of anybody off the top of my head who could have pulled this off. And Leigh is just as good, saucy and scatter-brained and vulnerable but still incredibly strong, standing up for herself and charting her own course even when it's clear that her character has absolutely no idea what in the hell is happening. Because--
Why does Rhett want to marry Scarlett?
Really. I'm asking. Because I honestly don't know.
At the end of the book, when Melly's dead and he's leaving and they're both sitting down at the Table of Honesty, he tells us that he wanted to marry her because he was in love with her and wanted to make her happy. And I think it's clear at this point in the novel to all but the most obtuse and naive reader (i.e. readers like me when I was 16) that Rhett is definitely infatuated with Scarlett. He likes talking to her, likes messing with her head, thinks she's pretty, etc. And he certainly wants to have sex with her, although he's clearly a sensual being and he owns a whorehouse so it's not like his libido is a big surprise. But why does he want to marry her?
Really. I'm stumped.
The Rhett at the end of the book says this was all about love, but by the time GWTW ends Rhett is an old man remembering a much earlier period in his life. I mean he's not really old and not all that much time passes between this scene and the end of the novel, but he's practically a senior citizen by the time 1873 rolls around. There's a certain inevitability about earlier events that sets in as you age, and there's a lot of back dating and misremembering. Lines get blurry and it can be very, very difficult to remember exactly why you did something and why you felt the way you did. I can't find the exact quote, but Ernest Hemingway once said that visiting your own battlefield is just as difficult as visiting an old love affair. You can remember what you did and how you did it, but it's almost impossible to reconnect with your old feelings be they terror and rage on the Western Front or passion and desire in a former relationship. 1873 Rhett says he was madly in love with Scarlett from their first meeting back at 12 Oaks, but I'm not so certain he's a reliable narrator in this case.
I guess I should wrap this one up now, because I could probably go on forever recapping an analyzing this conversation. I think this scene definitely encapsulates everything that goes wrong between the two of them: Scarlett is devoted to Ashley and an independent woman who is convinced that Rhett is too bad to love, and Rhett is the blank-faced poker player who never explains his motives or admits to feeling anything besides lust for Scarlett. It's all very strange. This is a marriage proposal scene, and marriage is supposed to be a meeting of the minds just like any other contract, but neither of the principals appear to have any idea about what they want from this relationship. And they certainly don't negotiate. They just agree to marry and...that's a recipe for disaster.
