Life of Pamela, a serial published in 1741, provided the reader with five hundred pages of text, nine narrative illustrations and one frontispiece for the affordable price of 4s.
John Carwitham, a little known but fairly talented illustrator, provided the images for Life of Pamela. Keymer and Sabor point out that the selection of an obscure artist was reflective of the book’s intended audience: ‘The expense of a more prestigious artist would have been too great for the downmarket Life of Pamela, but Carwitham’s illustrations are surprisingly effective. Although most of them depict scenes from Richardson’s Pamela, two represent incidents created by the author of the Life.’
This work that the frontispiece introduces, The Life of Pamela, was one of the earliest works deceitfully masquerading as the ‘true’ version of ‘Richardson’s’ Pamela. The anonymous writer of the spurious publication opens with a bold statement, exploiting Richardson’s silence on the subject of authorship: ‘Whoever put together the other Account that has been published of Pamela was entirely misinformed of the Cause of Mr Andrews’ misfortunes.’ he writes. To strengthen his argument, this author also provides a more thorough explanation of Pamela’s entry into service, including details of how her parents lost money when the South Sea Bubble burst, and supplying the last name ‘Belmour’ to Richardson’s abbreviated Mr B. The Life of Pamela exploits Pamela as the framework for its narrative and then continues the story beyond her marriage, the point at which Richardson had concluded his original narration. The author clearly believed that authenticity could be achieved through detail and realism and The Life of Pamela is over five hundred pages of excessive description. In the midst of this mediocre and murky prose, there are glimmers of insight and class sensitivity, and less of Richardson’s ambiguity. The ‘sham’ Pamela is more pragmatic and socially aware; the world she lives in is harsh and limited, expressed accurately in Mrs Belmour’s condescending comment: ‘Poor child, thou canst expect no Fortune, but a good Education will do you no Hurt’.
There are touching details of the frustrations of servant life when Pamela huddles on the balcony with the other servants to wistfully watch Lord Davers and Miss Belmour at a ball. While The Life of Pamela’s Pamela is more open in her admiration for the rich than Richardson’s - lustily observing a world beyond her reach - she is simultaneously more insistent on the limits of her station. She continually refers to herself as inferior, even to the vile Mrs Jewkes, and is honest with herself about the impossibility of wedding the aristocratic man she loves. The author articulates this awareness by describing Pamela’s thought process (with a bit of hyperbole to compensate for his sub-par writing skills): ‘His birth and fortune, she knew would not let him to stoop to such a slave as Pamela, and therefore all she had to desire was to be permitted to return to her native meanness unviolated.’
Carwitham’s illustrations are in concordance with this humble, lowly Pamela, and in his depiction of her attempt to return home dressed in peasant garb, Pamela’s honesty, innocence, and ingenuousness is highlighted. In this engraving, Pamela is shown planning to return home and thus rejecting all the supplied finery from her employment at the Belmours - the trappings of a mistress. She dresses instead in her original peasant garb to emphasize her humility and her virtue. When she enters the room, she is unrecognizable to Mrs Jervis, instigating Mrs Jervis’s trick of introducing Pamela to Mr Belmour as a stranger. Mr Belmour playfully mistakes Pamela for a fictional sister of hers, and aggressively kisses her: ‘“You are a very pretty child,’ the master jokes, ‘I would not be so free with your sister, you may believe, but I must kiss you.”’ His behaviour affirms his role as villain in the romance and demonstrates the degrading treatment lower-class women were expected to silently endure. Pamela is offended by this deceit, calling it a ‘sad trick’, and both the anonymous author and Richardson use the confusion bubbling in this scene to make a more specific point about the importance of dress, its role in class distinction, and its ability to both mask and expose the inner character of the wearer. Warner further emphasizes the sheer importance of this passage and its meaning to the entire genre of novel writing, asserting that: ‘nothing within the text appears more crucial than the disguise scene in which Pamela, the woman who claims not to have read novels, acts like a heroine from one, appearing incognito in her country dress. Here is the first episode of the novel in which Pamela becomes ambiguously complicit with the codes of love, disguise, and manipulation fundamental to the novels of amorous intrigue.’
Furthermore, this scene of deceit and departure subtly foreshadows the masquerade in Pamela II, and perhaps provides a subconscious motive for Pamela’s reluctance to attend the later costume event. Here Pamela has unwittingly participated in the popular eighteenth century past time, and in one of its moste she so desires, she would be reinforcing her lowly origins and prey to sexual exploitation; this fate is confirmed in Mr Belmour’s emboldened kiss. Bucolic clothing hinted at sexual laxity, and thus in this illustration, we have a heroine snared in the trappings of her liminality.
This scene was open to a wide range of interpretations, quite frequently split along class lines. Anti-Pamelists, mostly upper class readers, pointed to Pamela’s costume as strong evidence that she was artfully teasing Mr Belmour with her virtue and simplicity, while Pamelists asserted that her clothing confusion is confirmation of the veracity of her innocence and naivete. A close examination of Carwitham’s image leaves the viewer certain of his Pamelist stance and this image captures an honest young girl, only wishing to deescape with this luxurious attire, she wouldt her outfit as puritanical, not theatrical; her manner and posture are timid, not teasing. Pamela is a child, not a coquette, both in her gullibility and her clothing choice; she is subconsciously trying to appear and act as pre-pubescent as possible. The composition also clearly separates Pamela and Mrs Jervis, from Mr Belmour, and it is the Master that leans eagerly forward, while Pamela, with slightly bowed head and averted eyes, piously clasps her small hands. This is a tender portrait of a young girl trying to escape from her beauty and the inevitable complexities of sexuality and adolescence; Carwitham answers the narrative and the readers’ question - who is Pamela? - with a visual assertion of Pamela’s integrity, innocence, and vulnerability.
While the anonymous author of The Life of Pamela expanded Pamela’s original story, other editors condensed and abridged the narrative, making it even more accessible to the lower and less leisured classes. Warner points to the social and class-based implications of reading, stating ‘spart as she came. Carwitham chooses to depict her outfit as puritanical, not theatrical; her manner and posture are timid, not teasing. Pamela is a child, not a coquette, both in her gullibility and her clothing choice; she is subconsciously trying to appear and act as pre-pubescent as possible. The composition also clearly separates Pamela and Mrs Jervis, from Mr Belmour, and it is the Master that leans eagerly forward, while Pamela, with slightly bowed head and averted eyes, piously clasps her small hands. This is a tender portrait of a young girl trying to escape from her beauty and the inevitable complexities of sexuality and adolescence; Carwitham answers the narrative and the readers’ question - who is Pamela? - with a visual assertion of Pamela’s integrity, innocence, and vulnerability.
While the anonymous author of The Life of Pamela expanded Pamela’s original story, other editors condensed and abridged the narrative, making it even more accessible to the lower and less leisured classes. Warner points to the social and class-based implications of reading, stating ‘selecting what to read, so as to emphasize one thing instead of another, being provoked by incomplete descriptions...All these practices of reading may produce a more or less “qualified” reading which in turn becomes an index of a reader’s position in the social hierarchy.’
No comments:
Post a Comment