The O’Haras’ plantation, Tara, represents survival. Before the war, in an attempt to comfort a heartsick Scarlett, Gerald tells Scarlett that land (rather than love) is the only thing that lasts. At that point, she’s too upset that Ashley is going to marry Melanie to believe him—but when she returns to Tara near the end of the Civil War, she realizes he’s right. By this point, Ellen has died, Gerald has gone mad with grief, and Ashley is married to Melanie and they have a child together. When Scarlett is at her lowest point and Ashley hands her a lump of Tara’s red clay, Scarlett is inspired to keep going: the plantation is all she has left, and if she means to survive, she must revive it and make it into a moneymaking enterprise once again.
Scarlett ultimately does just that. Returning Tara to a functional state both helps Scarlett survive (by enabling the property to make money through farming) and gives Scarlett a reason to keep trying to do more to ensure her family’s continued ownership of the land. Some of what Scarlett must do to support Tara, such as run Frank’s mills and use her sexuality to try to manipulate men into helping her, aren’t considered ladylike in post-Civil War Southern society—but to Scarlett, stepping outside the confines of traditional gender roles in service of her family’s plantation is necessary. Tara, Scarlett believes, is the only thing she has in the world that will always be there for her—if she loses it, she’ll lose the one thing, aside from money, that makes her feel powerful.
Tara Quotes in Gone with the Wind
“Land is the only thing in the world that amounts to anything, for ‘tis the only thing in the world that lasts.”
It was a man’s world, and she accepted it as such. The man owned the property, and the woman managed it. The man took the credit for the management, and the woman praised his cleverness.
There was something exciting about this town with its narrow muddy streets, lying among rolling red hills, something raw and crude that appealed to the rawness and crudeness underlying the fine veneer that Ellen and Mammy had given her. She suddenly felt that this was where she belonged, not in serene and quiet old cities, flat beside yellow waters.
What a little while since she and everyone else had thought that Atlanta could never fall, that Georgia could never be invaded. But the small cloud that appeared in the northwest four months ago had blown up into a mighty storm and then into a screaming tornado, sweeping away her world, whirling her out of her sheltered life, and dropping her down in the midst of this still, haunted desolation.
Was Tara still standing? Or was Tara also gone with the wind that had swept through Georgia?
“I’ll think of it all tomorrow, at Tara. I can stand it then. […] After all, tomorrow is another day.”