Margaret Mitchell's Gone With the Wind (39 page)

Two years after the movie contract had been signed, Selznick had not shot one foot of film for
Gone With the Wind
. As Mitchell had warned, difficulties abounded in bringing her epic story to the big screen. The script proved a major complication and ultimately involved more than a dozen writers, including F. Scott Fitzgerald. Also slowing things down was the casting. Clark Gable, the reigning he-man of Hollywood, seemed the obvious choice for Rhett Butler, but Selznick did not have the authority to cast him. Gable was under exclusive contract to Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer (MGM), Hollywood's largest and most powerful studio that just happened to be run by Selznick's father-in-law, Louis B. Mayer. MGM's legendary boss was not about to loan his biggest star to another studio without exacting a hefty price. Family ties went only so far in Screenland. Selznick could have Gable only if the producer agreed to give MGM half the film's profits. In addition, MGM's parent company, Loew's, Inc., wanted to distribute the movie and take its own cut of the grosses. With the public overwhelmingly in favor of Gable, Selznick felt he had no choice but to accept the terms.*

Selznick International had a distribution contract with United Artists that ran through the end of 1938, which meant that for Loew's to be involved in
Gone With the Wind
the movie could not be released until the following year. The delay worked to Selznick's advantage as he needed all the time he could get to find the perfect Scarlett to go with his perfect Rhett. Russell Birdwell, Selznick's public relations director, had launched a nationwide search for Scarlett that, much to Mitchell's frustration, had been dragging on since late 1936. Established screen sirens and would-be stars overwhelmed the studio with pleas to play the famous vixen, and many approached Mitchell as well. Despite denying that she had any responsibility for the film or its casting, people still believed the author was their inside ticket to Hollywood. She received countless letters about it; people stopped her on the street; and the telephone rang with fans anxious for the latest scoop.

The studio consumed her time as well. Although she had made clear after the movie contract was signed that she would not offer Selznick any assistance with the film's production, his staff continued to hound her with questions and pleas for help. She lost her patience and finally told them that if they did not leave her alone she would sue them for breach of contract.
⁴⁰
As the months dragged into years, the author grew increasingly bothered at the annoyances associated with the movie. She complained to Kay Brown in 1938: “Selznick International Pictures may think
GWTW
is a headache to them, but, dearie, the film has been a Grade A headache to me!”
⁴¹

With the film still in the preproduction stage, Selznick's attention wandered to future projects he might pursue with Mitchell. The producer sent a memorandum to Brown asking her to approach the author about writing a sequel to
Gone With the Wind
for the movies. If she did not want to write the story herself, he was open to the idea of the studio taking on the job and maybe releasing a series of sequels, along the lines of
The Thin
Man
movies.
⁴²
Selznick felt sure Mitchell would agree to one of these options once she understood how much money was at stake. Brown predicted Mitchell would say no and was proven right.

Mitchell had no interest in discussing a sequel to her book. She still did not want to write one herself and did not want a third party doing it for her, whether it be Selznick or one of her many fans who seemed to think they were up to the task. When readers began writing continuations of her story the previous year, Mitchell had been unsure of the legalities involved and left it up to Macmillan to decide what to do. As time wore on and Mitchell gained her bearings in the world of copyright law, she became angry at the number of people who felt no compunction about using her characters for their own purposes. One instance that especially irritated her was an elderly Christian woman who wrote a religious sequel to
Gone With the Wind
aimed at saving souls.
⁴³
That Selznick was offering Mitchell money for the authority to prepare a continuation was a good sign that she did have some control of the sequel rights, but the author did not know whether she had the power to prevent the woman from publishing her religious tome. In the fall of 1938, Mitchell asked Cole for Macmillan's thoughts on the matter. Cole did not know, nor apparently did anyone else at Macmillan. It was not likely an issue many—if any—of its authors had faced. The publisher turned for guidance to C. L. Bouve´, the register of copyrights at the Library of Congress. Although not allowed to give legal advice to private parties, Bouveóffered his personal opinion that, because Mitchell's characters were an idea they were not protected by copyright. Therefore, Mitchell probably had no right to stop third parties from writing sequels, and the best she could do was to sue for damages if one negatively reflected upon her reputation as an author.
⁴⁴

Ultimately, Mitchell dropped the matter of the religious sequel because the woman agreed not to publish her story. Yet, the Marshes disagreed with Bouve´'s interpretation of the legal rights at stake. In their minds, all unauthorized sequels were an unfair appropriation of Mitchell's skill, which inherently caused her damage, regardless of the quality of the writing or whether Mitchell could prove damages.
⁴⁵
They considered it theft, plain and simple. Though no expert on copyright, Stephens Mitchell took matters into his own hands and conducted an extensive survey of the law. He unearthed a decision by a New York court that supported the idea that authors control their characters. Although not binding legal precedent outside of New York, the Mitchell team felt confident with the decision in its back pocket should anyone try to publish a sequel without the author's permission.

In the fall of 1938, the Marshes saw a glimmer of light at the end of the international rights tunnel—and it was not another oncoming train. Taft finished registering the copyrights, and Mitchell felt she had done all she could to meet her obligations to Selznick regarding protection of the copyright. With Brett's and Taft's guidance, Mitchell approached Selznick and asked for assurances that she had fulfilled her duty under the “God Almighty clause.” In December, Selznick agreed Mitchell was off the hook as long as she continued to fight the Dutch piracy.

Another positive development occurred when relations with Saunders improved. For Mitchell, their association began to take on a friendly aspect when the two women finally met in person that spring. They had been communicating by letter, telegram, and telephone for the previous two years—a situation not ideally suited for building relationships. In June, Saunders visited Atlanta while on a business trip. Their conversation apparently branched beyond business into girl talk, and their correspondence afterward was chummy and good-natured.

Saunders and Marsh took longer to forge a bond. They had met on business matters during the agent's visit to Atlanta, and Saunders made a stab at sending him some friendly letters after her trip. Marsh remained distant, insisting on calling her Miss Saunders though she freely used his first name. Later that summer, they had some further disagreements over the handling of the foreign accounts, and Marsh let Saunders know he viewed her as “highly emotional” and prone to “temperamental outburst,” which he found ironic given it was usually agents who complained about dealing with high-strung artists.
⁴⁶
Sensing she may have finally pushed him too far, Saunders retreated. She did not exactly beg his forgiveness but apologized for her attitude and agreed to do better going forward. “To sum up: I have decided to cooperate with and represent your interests on a more liberal and tolerant basis than before, and I trust that this will be acceptable to everyone concerned, and that our relations may, through the difficulties we have weathered together, become even more close and happy than they would have been without them.”
⁴⁷
Her one request of him was that he stop addressing her as Miss Saunders. Marsh agreed to give her another chance and began calling the agent by her first name.
⁴⁸

The situation improved further when, later that year, Saunders took an extended tour of Europe. She corresponded with the Marshes throughout her trip, giving every impression that she was working diligently to advance
Gone With the Wind
in overseas markets. She met with several of Mitchell's publishers and sent back informative and entertaining anecdotes. After visiting the Polish firm operated by a man named Wydawnictwo J. Przeworski, Saunders regaled the Marshes with the story of an elderly white-haired woman “crouching like a bird behind the counter” who bowed deferentially to every visitor who came through the door. A few days later, while detained in Kraco´w by a snowstorm, Saunders struck up a conversation with a bookseller who informed her that the old woman was Przeworski's mother and the one who ran the business. According to the bookseller, the son never introduced his mother despite her being the brains behind the firm. Saunders also reported that she had discovered one of the largest publishing houses in Latvia was preparing an unauthorized edition of
Gone With
the Wind
. She jumped on the problem and convinced the publisher to sign a contract, impressing Marsh with her quick work.
⁴⁹

With the foreign rights moving along smoothly—except for the pending Dutch case—the Marshes looked forward to life returning to a slower pace.
Gone With the Wind
had finally dropped off the American bestseller lists that year, an event that caused celebration in the Marsh household. “That was a happy sign that the turn had come,” Marsh told his family. “We hope nothing will happen to prevent public interest from subsiding further and further.”
⁵⁰
As Mitchell described it, a lull had come that allowed her to attend to matters that had been neglected “while the
Wind
was blowing a gale.”
⁵¹
She wanted to get her personal affairs in order, which included making arrangements for what would happen to the
Gone With the Wind
rights when she died. She had her brother draw up a will that bequeathed her literary property to Marsh and devoted several paragraphs to her feelings about privacy. It was her desire that her personal life remain personal, even after she was gone, and that her standing before the public rest upon her published work. She was not interested in the affairs of other people and did not think they should be interested in hers. She specified that she did not want a biography written and asked that her papers, including letters, manuscripts, and corrected proof sheets of her novel, not be “sold, given away, published or otherwise exposed to public view.”
⁵²
In case people remained curious about her life in the future, she wrote a brief biographical sketch for her executors to use as they saw fit. She also expressed opposition to any sort of memorial being created in her honor, something fans already were proposing. She saw no need for such a tribute.
⁵³

On December 10, 1938, Selznick finally began filming
Gone With the Wind
. He started with the now famous scene of the retreating Confederate soldiers in Atlanta setting fire to their supply warehouses. Scarlett had yet to be cast, but fans were thrilled the movie was underway at last.

Mitchell, too, was relieved things were moving along but dreaded the inevitable surge in public attention the movie's production was bound to bring. She had maintained her public hands-off policy over the past two years and intended to continue with that approach. However, she did not turn her back on the project entirely. She had recommended the studio hire as advisers two fellow Georgians—historian Wilbur G. Kurtz and newspaperwoman Susan Myrick. Kurtz, who had reviewed parts of Mitchell's manuscript in the fall of 1935, became a technical adviser on everything from period architecture to sign lettering. Myrick offered guidance on Southern speech, manners, and customs. Having her friends in Hollywood deflected the studio's constant questions and also provided Mitchell the latest scoop from behind the scenes.