 by Dr. Jeffrey Lant. Author's program note. Is there a person alive (or at least a movie goer) who doesn't know about Scarlet O'Hara, the spit-fire whom author Margaret Mitchell (1900-1949) originally wanted to call "Pansy" and was only persuaded to change with the greatest difficulty. Pansy, indeed! Why not "Shrinking Violet", or some other botanical faux-pas? It may be true that "a rose by any other name would smell as sweet", but naming her protagonist "Green O'Hara" (for all that "Pa" Gerald was as Irish as the day is long) would have cost several million in profits, not to mention a few of the film's bumper crop of 10 1940 Oscars. And so Katie Scarlet O'Hara she was christened and Katie Scarlet O'Hara she has remained, perfectly named for the character Rhett Butler enjoyed watching (and infuriating) so much, "What a woman!"; now in the headlines again, improbably one might have supposed; in "Forbes", "The Wall Street Journal" and "The Economist", to name but a few of the world's leading financial and business publications, now tripping over themselves to see, and so report, the facts of this intriguing matter. They, however, can but hint at what may be forthcoming. But you, dear readers, will be gratified before the panjandrums of the media... all because of one indefatigable researcher, on the case early and late, his encyclopedic knowledge of every occurrence at 12 Oaks and Tara, even unto the contents of Miss Pittypat's sewing box and why she just couldn't help herself when rapscallion Rhett turned up with blockade-run presents far too useful and scarce to decline, whatever the social consequences. How could a lady valiantly get through the long evenings without her indispensable pins and needles? That Butler was a clever man all right. That researcher, Harvard-trained mind, is me... and as I find false modesty to be in appalling bad taste, I ask you to acknowledge my achievement and perfect your well-turned compliments which I have so well and thoroughly earned. For this I thank you. The process of discovery. As any honest researcher will admit, and rightly so, it is painstaking work and careful process that produces the serendipitous outcomes we call "discoveries"; these discoveries are not random, not accidental, not unexpected, but come to be because dedicated and resourceful researchers set out and consistently remain dedicated, resourceful... and organized to a fare-thee-well. Thus only hoi polloi are surprised when these seminal finds occur; the researchers fully expect them and are gratified rather than astonished when they occur. And so it was with my own researches into this important matter. Rumors, conjectures, hypotheses advanced, considered, discarded, reconsidered. For many years rumors had been rife in Hollywood about a particular piece of furniture found in Tara's home office, the place where, amongst so many scenes, Miss Ellen tells her husband about the illegitimate child fathered upon white-trash Emmy Slattery by Tara's randy, Yankee foreman, Jonas Wilkerson. The piece in question was the desk, the desk which in one way or another was accessed and used by Scarlet, Melanie and Ashley Wilkes, Gerald, Miss Ellen, etc. It was also the desk from which Gerald, unhinged by his wife's death, eerily extracts a pair of diamond ear bobs, almost his last remaining asset. Speculation about the desk's contents. Guessing just what the desk's contents may have been grew into a parlor game at every star-studded soiree. One said it was the long and exhaustive list of Leslie Howard's amours with complete phone numbers, addresses and the dizzying list of their particular expertises and their ability to satisfy his exacting requirements. Others suggested Clark Gable's false teeth, the contours of which helped give him his instantly recognizable grin, so suggestive and impertinent. ( After all, a set had been lost during the great burning of Atlanta scene.) Or the packet of salacious photographs taken by a crew member of the complete cast. He was fired. His photos abided. And, of course, the idea was mooted that the ear bobs belonged to the adamant wife of David O. Selznick who hid them there, because he had mortgaged their every asset, often multiple times to produce his masterpiece. But because the desk itself had been misplaced, maybe even sold (those pesky debts again), no one could say with authority... until now. Needle in the hay stack. Enter your worker of wonders, your prestidigitator of renown, your man of protean energies, imaginations, inspirations and luck... and, yes, that would be me! And I did what every good researcher must do... I went to the movies, this time to watch, and in the middle of a beautiful afternoon at that, GWTW ("Gone with the Wind") all over again... and all over again to be swept away by a film that remains the chief of its ouevre, quite simply the single best film ever made. And because I am and have been throughout my life the most loyal and tenacious of fans, the film granted my wish. Not for the object itself... that would be too easy; rather for the significant lead that would deliver the object in question and burnish my already bright reputation as the discoverer of dazzling discoveries. Thus after I swept away the mandatory tears that flow at GWTW's conclusion, the moment when Scarlet comes to know, for the first time, that love is not about what you take... but what you give without stinting, without thought of gain or recompense... at this poignant moment of reverie and recognition... I took my hunch and went to the UCLA film school and, with trepidation and fast beating heart, asked to see their extensive records on the film, its production, script, actors, costumes, and so much more. There, in a file simply marked "Tara, properties therein, Gerald O'Hara desk and contents" was the grail (if not holy, at least venerable) ... a yellowed page in what turned out to be Scarlet's anything but copperplate hand... to be followed by over 200 such pages, dated and numbered, with her razor sharp observations on the business of business, a subject she was more than qualified to discuss... Here are just a few of her trenchant recommendations: 1) Surround yourself with the team of people every business owner needs to succeed... and reward them handsomely. It pains me today when I think of how much I relied on Mammy and how little I did for her. It was Rhett after all who gave her the bright red petticoats she loved. 2) Don't fall in love with your partners or, far worse, your employees unless you have an author of genius at hand to tell the story and reap the profits. A love affair with Ashley Wilkes in real life would have been the very devil, disruption to business being just the beginning of the problem. 3) Know who your friends are and be good to them. Every business owner needs a friend or two to let off steam with, share tragedies and triumphs. I had the best of these in Melanie Wilkes but let my own selfishness get in the way. I rue her passing every day and squirm when I think of how I treated her. But she was a true lady... and never complained. 4) Honor the employees who give their time, loyalty and heart's blood to help you move up and up. I am proud that young as I was, I didn't have to think twice about giving Pa's gold watch to Pork. He was the best, even to the extent that he filched from others to help feed me and my family. No O'Hara ever forgets that. 5) Treat your employees with kindness and humanity. I am chagrined when I think that I gave Johnny Gallagher, the supervisor of my lumber mill, "a free hand", knowing what he would do with it; working the convicts I employed to their very deaths. Ashley warned me... but I wouldn't listen. 6) Take time for charity and good works. No person can lead a balanced, worthy life without empathy; not just in words either. You might think that because my saintly mother died by performing a charitable act, I'd be firmly opposed to any charitable act. However it is because of what she did, when she did it, that made her a saint. 7) Work your investments... first by having and keeping a good trustee. Even when I was a young woman I was rich, though after Sherman swept through Atlanta on his punitive, punishing march to the sea, it didn't seem so. However, my first husband Charles Hamilton and my second, Frank Kennedy, were both wealthy, until the war. Luckily I had the best trustee, Charlie's uncle. He moved heaven and earth to preserve what I inherited. I hardly gave this a thought then; I'd advise you to be more intelligent and informed. 8) Listen to the "old goats". They're often lonely and firmly believe they are helping when they deliver their jeremiads and admonitions. Dr. Mead, Atlanta's physician of choice, was windy and dull but good hearted. I could have been kind. Melanie was. But then Melanie Wilkes was.... (Editor's note. Here the manuscript seems smudged as if a tear had fallen on it.) 9) Don't worry about the hurtful criticisms and verbal brickbats thrown at you by people who are so often jealous and envious of your success, whatever they may say to the contrary. They aim to hurt, but can only hurt if you let them. Never, ever respond in kind; as the Good Book says, gentle words turn away wrath. If I'd known this way back when, I would have treated India Wilkes with more kindness. After all, she lost the love of her life in Charles Hamilton. She was entitled to more than my irritation and impatience with her very presence. 10) Fight for love and loved ones. God knows, the world knows how I treated the great love of my life, Rhett Butler; how I ignored him while pursuing the false chimera of Ashley Wilkes. I learned the hard way that you must fight and fight hard to keep the good people, the loving essential people in your life, for they are the best people of all. Rhett, when you read this, come home to me. After all tomorrow is another day and given good will and love, above all love, we can find happiness and serenity with each other... well, at least happiness.... A dedication The author dedicates this article, the first based on Scarlet O'Hara's honest, timely and practical business management and life enhancement advice, to three wonderful people, each of whom has contributed to the enthralling ambiance and worldwide success of GWTW and Scarlet herself. These include score composer Max Steiner (1888-1971), the lyric genius behind "Tara's Theme" and a host of Hollywood's grandest films. Ironically this stupendous achievement failed to win him the Oscar; that went to "The Wizard of Oz." Go now and listen again to Steiner's music, sublime, soaring, note perfect. While you're at the search engine, listen to Itzhak Perlman's entrancing rendition, pure magic. The Maestro (born 1945) is ill now and needs our prayers. May they be as heartfelt and beautiful as the genius he brings to music. As for my final dedication, it is to my beloved grammie, Victora Burgess Lauing When I was 10 or 11 or so, she invited me, and just me, into the cool recesses of the movie house in Downers Grove, Illinois. It was a place of dreams, excitement, of high comedy and searing drama. During GWTW, she held my hand and squeezed it when the drama was fiercest and most pronounced. I didn't understand just why over 50 years ago, but I understand now. |
