"But whatever you do, Pamela . . ."

In an article titled “Richard’s characterization of Mr. B. and Double Purpose in Pamela,” Gwendolyn B. Needham contends that the average reader of Samuel Richardson’s first novel fails to recognize the complex character the author renders in its hero-villain, Mr. B.: “Convinced of Mr. B.’s wickedness, outraged by a seeming switch from black dye to whitewash, the reader doubts the ‘miraculous conversion’ and deplores Richardson’s ineptitude” (437).  Needham holds, instead, that Mr. B.’s motivations have been represented consistently throughout the narrative and that “Richardson’s psychological insight and conscious realism make convincing what happens to a Mr. B. when he encounters a Pamela” (452).  I am interested in Richardson’s characterization of Mr. B. because of an unbecoming characteristic I found to be as prevalent in him after his “reformation” as before, that of his nearly paranoid concern with others’ perception of him.  This is evidenced by a series of solemn counsels he administers to Pamela in regards to her behavior as his wife.  Fearing the opinion of their wedding guests, for instance, he asks that she adopt an artifice of lightheartedness at their nuptials: “But whatever you do, Pamela, be cheerful; for else, may-be, of the small Company we shall have, some one, not knowing how to account for your too nice Modesty, may think there is some other Person in the World, whose Addresses would be still more agreeable to you” (342).  Of her role as hostess, he enjoins, “[B]ut yet I will say, that I expect from you, whoever comes to my House, that you will accustom yourself to one even, uniform Complaisance: That no Frown take place on your Brow . . . That . . .  you signify not, by the least reserved Look, that the Stranger is come upon you unseasonably” (371).  Finally, he warns her against ever representing their marriage in an unfavorable light: “In all Companies she must have shewn, that she had, whether I deserved it altogether, or not, a high Regard and Opinion of me” (446). 

Prior to reading Needham’s article, I considered Mr. B.’s excessive vanity just another aspect of his unsavory character, despite the fact that his creator, Richardson, clearly wished me to have a far higher opinion of him by the latter half of the novel.  Needham, however, urges that Richardson’s continued representation of this prevalent fault in the hero is not indicative of the author’s inconsistency in characterizing him, but the opposite.  It is Mr. B’s ego that is at the heart of the novel’s initial conflict, as his inner struggle, in deciding whether a marriage to Pamela is worth the censure of his peers, “finally emerges as a clear case of Pride versus Love” (Needham 455).  However, as Needham also holds that “Richardson emphasizes pride of self as Mr. B.’s dominant and pervasive trait” and “convincingly demonstrates that Mr. B.’s ego and domineering disposition remain essentially unchanged,” I now question his characterization in but a different way (445; 468).  No longer does Mr. B. seem strangely converted from one who is thoroughly bad to one who is thoroughly good.  Rather, my own observations regarding his excessive fear of the judgment of others, coupled with Needham’s insistence that his vanity explains his psychological motivations throughout the novel and provides for his realistic rendering, lead me to newly question the likelihood of such a man marrying below his station. 

Of course, Needham also asserts that Richardson has created, in Mr. B., “a man capable of correcting and disciplining himself given sufficiently strong motivation” (446).  His love for Pamela may indeed provide just such motivation.  However, as he is hardly reformed in his vanity; as he seems, in his aforementioned cautions to Pamela regarding her behavior, to prize others’ perceptions over her comfort; and as, in marrying his servant, he would surely risk a far more extensive disapprobation of his peers than that afforded by any of the smaller matters over which he shows so much concern, I have my doubts.