Dawson's Landing: Chaos in a Small Town
Julie M. Riddle
Professor Teem
English 431
7 June 1998
Dawson's Landing: Chaos in a Small Town
Dawson's Landing is a seemingly peaceful town. Its inhabitants are content to go about their lives rather mindlessly, doing small things that seem huge within their limited existence. It exemplifies the slave-holding small southern town of the pre-Civil War era, and on the surface it carries itself with grace and a quiet dignity. The townspeople range from the typical gentleman (descended from the first families of Virginia), who considers himself to be of the highest moral and chivalric caliber, to the house slave, who plays the subservient role assigned him from birth. Between these two lies the average citizen of Dawson's Landing. He is a follower of the gentleman and a master to the slave.
All three of these elements co-exist quite contentedly, taking care of their everyday business and accepting their position in the community without debate. On the surface, Dawson's Landing could almost be considered a type of haven, with its pretty houses and nice, friendly folk. However, lurking immediately beneath this calm exterior is the potential for utter chaos. After careful scrutiny, it is apparent that Dawson's Landing is not the simple, heart-warming town it appears to be, but rather it is a breeding ground for moral misconceptions, environmental determinism, and ironic circumstance.
By digging below the surface of Dawson's Landing, the reader finds that the social organization of the town determines the values and morals of its inhabitants (Bradbury 34). The people of Dawson's Landing, in essence, cannot, or rather DO not think for themselves. They have no inherent sense of right or wrong; they only have what they see. Their values are more the product of events that happen around them rather than being their own personal beliefs (24). This could be said to have stemmed from Twain's personal opinion about morals. "We have no real morals, but only artificial ones, morals created and preserved by the forced suppression of natural and healthy instincts" (as qtd. in Bradbury 16). In saying this, Twain was stressing the point that man is as much a victim of his moral instincts as he is any other instinct (16). Despite his personal view of morals, Twain does not explore specific moral detail in Pudd'nhead Wilson, he only explores the general sources (25); because of this, there is a lack of moral clarity in the work (16). The morals of the inhabitants of Dawson's Landing are, in general, no deeper than a mud puddle, and this leaves the town members basically without hope. There is nowhere for them to turn for moral guidance because no one around them has morals superior to their own. As a result, Dawson's Landing is ultimately doomed to moral chaos (Gerber 138).
There is one character that may be considered a type of "saving grace" for Dawson's Landing. David Wilson, referred to as "Pudd'nhead" by natives of Dawson's Landing because of an unfortunate remark he made shortly after arriving in the town, emerges as a sort of moral center for the drama and can be taken as being very close in point of view to Mark Twain (Leavis 38). Although more apparent than that of the other characters, Wilson's morality is still veiled and often subdued. His morals, however much concealed, are genuine, and they show the good side of human nature.
Wilson knew Roxy by sight, and when the duel of wit began to play out, he stepped outside to gather in a record or two. . . . Wilson inspected the children and asked - "How old are they, Roxy?" "Bofe de same age, sir - five months. Bawn de fust o' Feb'uary." "They're handsome little chaps. One's just as handsome as the other, too." A delighted smile exposed the girl's white teeth and she said: "Bles yo' soul, Misto Wilson, it's pow'ful nice o' you to say dat, 'ca'se one of 'em ain't on'y a nigger. . ." (Twain 64-65).Regardless of how slight a compliment this may seem to modern-day readers, in 1830 it was a bold and extremely generous statement for a white male to make to a slave in public. This shows that Wilson has heart, not just for his "own kind," but for all of the human race.
In this portrayal of Wilson, Twain is somewhat undermining his own Calvinistic-deterministic belief that man is fundamentally evil and incapable of moral goodness (Wiggins 183). To illustrate this belief, he gives his audience Tom Driscoll. Tom has no moral standard, no personal ties of love or loyalty or even gratitude (Spangler 31). He is completely self-centered, has no pride, and has no apparent concern for anybody's well-being other than his own. When he finds out that his uncle, who was fighting a duel in his cause, has lived through the duel, he feels no pity. More decadent than that, he reflects on the fact of how much better things would have turned out for him if the Judge had been killed (Leavis 38).
Tom frequently vows reform throughout the tale but never out of any sense of moral precedence. He is afraid of being disinherited, and it is this fear that proves to be his only source of a desire to reform (Spangler 31). To add even more disbelief to his character, out of everyone in the book, Tom is the only one who ever outright addresses a REAL moral issue. "Why were niggers and whites made? What crime did the uncreated first nigger commit that the curse of birth was decreed for him? And why is this awful difference made between white and black? . . . How hard the nigger's fate seems, this morning! - yet until last night such a thought never entered my head" (Twain 117). Although apparently a deeply moving moral revelation, Tom's true nature returns shortly after this blurb of conscience. Under the influence of a great mental and moral upheaval his character and habits had taken on the appearance of complete change, but after a while, with the subsidence of the storm both began to settle toward their former places. He dropped gradually back into his old frivolous and easy-going ways. . . (Twain 119).
At no point is the town's moral code (or lack thereof) more apparent than at the end of the work. The townspeople basically learn nothing from what has happened, except that fingerprints differ (Gerber 133). Because there were no real morals to begin with, there is no moral order to restore; there is only a group of facts that must be established on a legalistic level (Bradbury 24). This shows that the one virtue of the town as a whole is honor rather than honesty, and the one moral instrument is legal proof rather than truth (27). The culmination of all these ideas is the fact that morality in the world of Dawson's Landing cannot be seen in its normal light. It becomes more like "a fiction of law and custom" (26).
Among the many unresolved questions in Pudd'nhead Wilson, one seems to stand out amid the others. Is Tom bad because of the treatment he has received, or is he bad because of his drop of negro blood? (Bradbury 45). This specific question will be dealt with at a later point, but for now, suffice it to say that it clearly establishes the premise upon which the town of Dawson's Landing operates. Twain had strong feelings about the doctrine of environmental determinism, and it is blatantly obvious in this book through his use of characters who are inexorably trapped by their training. Twain's belief in this doctrine had been growing stronger since the 1870s (Gerber 136) and shows itself in great evidence here.
The characters in Pudd'nhead Wilson are totally the result of their training. Because of this, we see that although the townspeople are generally kind, they are also provincial, prejudiced, and relatively mindless (137). They go about their lives doing and saying, but never really thinking or feeling. Their reliance is always on someone else to make their decisions for them, or if they do happen to make a decision of their own, it will often be swayed by the first opposition that comes along. The citizens of Dawson's Landing are a politician's dream. All it takes is a few impressive deductions, and they are at one's immediate disposal.
The town sat up all night to discuss the amazing events of the day, and swop guesses as to when Tom's trial would begin. Troop after troop of citizens came to serenade Wilson, and require a speech, and shout themselves hoarse over every sentence that fell from his lips - for all his sentences were golden now, all were marvellous (Twain 224).These people are now revering and praising the same man they have been calling Pudd'nhead for over twenty years, and they are marveling over one of the things that made him even more of a "pudd'nhead" in their eyes (his fingerprint hobby). This apparent victory for Wilson at the end of the story is in reality a moral disaster, for "Wilson is no longer a free agent; he emerges as the novel's most tragic example of man in the deterministic grips of circumstance" (Eschholz). He has lived among these people as the town "pudd'nhead" for the majority of his adult life, and now, when they offer him his redemption, he takes it willingly. This is his tragedy. He becomes a true "pudd'nhead" (Gerber 134).
If this doctrine of environmental determinism holds true, things become confusing for readers when suddenly confronted with Tom. According to Spangler, if man is determined solely by his training, Tom should exhibit characteristics of his fellow townspeople, especially those of his uncle, but he repeatedly steps out of these bounds, ever acting the town stranger (29). It is even more confusing when Roxy declares "It's de nigger in you, dat's what it is. Thirty-one parts o' you is white, en on'y one part nigger, en dat po' little one part is yo' soul" (Twain 157). If it is indeed Tom's negro blood that makes him murder Judge Driscoll, Twain's plot undermines the idea that 'training is everything' (Howe 498).
Although Tom does not seem to be a direct offspring of his environment, he can be viewed as the culmination of all the negative aspects of the people in Dawson's Landing. He exhibits his fear openly (something which the F.F.V.s would never do), he is debasing and cruel with his slaves, and everything he does can be traced back to his greed. In addition to this, the overindulgence Tom has experienced throughout his life leaves him feeling as if everyone owes him something. Because he was never forced to focus on anyone other than himself when he was a child, he is now unable to do so. Roxy tries to force Tom to a higher moral level at one point, but he is incapable of such a change (Spangler 34) because "man, once made, is not to be unmade" (Bradbury 46).
The irony found in Pudd'nhead Wilson is so widespread and intertwined with all the other elements, it is difficult to extract it from them and deal with it of its own accord. However, it plays such a large part in the characterization and the plot, it cannot be overlooked. The characters in this book "seem to exist primarily to suggest the idiocy of human behavior" (Gerber 131), and Dawson's Landing is seen as a "surrealistic world in which there are few certainties and life is simply a tissue of ironies" (129). Within this tissue of ironies, everything becomes uncertain - identity, freedom, moral absolutes (132) - none of these have any reliable standing in the story.
Roxy's general plight is undoubtedly the most ironic element in this book. All her efforts to make things the way she wants for her child end up causing the one thing she feared the most. Her attempt to save her child from being sold down the river by switching him with the real Tom Driscoll "ensures that, fatality working as it does in this world, that is exactly what must happen to him" (Bradbury 43).
"Tom's status as aristocrat and slave, two opposite social positions predicated on the privilege of genealogy in one instance and on the irrelevance of it in the other" (Howe 503). Tom is haunted by his own heritage in many ways before he even knows the truth of the matter.
. . . when Tom started out on his parade next morning he found the old deformed negro bell-ringer straddling along in his wake tricked out in a flamboyant curtain-calico exaggeration of his finery, and imitating his fancy Eastern graces as well as he could (Twain 85).This negrified parody of Tom's behavior unwittingly ironizes Tom's actual status as a slave (Howe 514). The irony surrounding Tom deals not only with his underlying racial secrets but with his inability to refrain from talking himself into trouble. At one point in the story, Tom gives us some foreshadowing of how he will finally meet his demise.
"It beats anything that was ever heard of! Why, a man's own hand is his deadliest enemy! Just think of that - a man's own hand keeps a record of the deepest and fatalest secrets of his life, and is treacherously ready to expose him to any black-magic stranger that comes along. . ." (Twain 129)The irony of Tom's exclamation points directly toward the fact that his fingerprints end up causing his downfall. Another point of irony in this speech is that Tom's own love of bravado adds wood to the fire of his demise. This is evidenced when he goes to Wilson's house the night before his defense of Luigi is to begin. He shows up and begins to goad Wilson about losing his first big case, and in the process, ends up inadvertently leaving a fingerprint on one of Wilson's slides. It is upon seeing this print that Wilson realizes who the murderer is. In point of fact, if Tom had never shown up at Wilson's house to torture him, he never would have been suspected of the murder (Howe 504).
Another highly ironic aspect of this book is the outcome of identity. In the case of Chambers, he is restored to his rightful place as Tom Driscoll, but because he grew up as a slave, he still has those mannerisms. He can neither read nor write, and he can never again fit into one role or the other. In essence, his life is ruined because of this unveiling of truth. Tom ends up meeting a fate worse than the punishment for his crime would have been. He fulfills his destiny and is sold down the river. David Wilson accepts his new role in the community as revered lawyer, but in truth becomes what he has been called for so many years, a "pudd'nhead." Roxy sees everything she ever worked for disintegrate in front of her, all because she thought she could take fate into her hands and mold it into her own desires and dreams.
Aside from a few small changes in persona around the town, Dawson's Landing eventually swallowed up all the unusual and exciting events that happened within its boundaries and returned to its normal state of mental and emotional drowsiness. In their minds, justice had been served. The bad guy was "sentenced" for his crime (more or less), the town had a hero, and they could now return to their own blissfully ignorant lives.
Works Cited
Bradbury, Malcolm, "Introduction." Pudd'nhead Wilson. by Mark Twain. England: Penguin Books, 1969. 9-46.
Eschholz, Paul A. "Twain's THE TRAGEDY OF PUDD'NHEAD WILSON." Explicator 31 (1973): Item 67.
Gerber, John C. Mark Twain. Boston: Twayne Publishers, 1988. Howe, Lawrence. "Race, Genealogy, and Genre in Mark Twain's Pudd'nhead Wilson." Nineteenth Century Literature 46.4 (1992): 495-516.
Leavis, F. R. "Mark Twain's Neglected Classic." Mark Twain. Ed. Harold Bloom. New York: Chelsea House Publishers, 1986. 29-43.
Spangler, George M. "Pudd'nhead Wilson: A Parable of Property." American Literature 42 (1970): 28-37.
Twain, Mark. Pudd'nhead Wilson. England: Penguin Books, 1969.
Wiggins, Robert A. "Pudd'nhead Wilson: A Literary Caesarean Operation." College English 25 (1963): 182-186.
28 January 1991