Pamela

by Samuel Richardson, Thomas Keymer (Editor), Alice Wakely (Editor)

One of the most spectacular successes of the flourishing literary marketplace of eighteenth-century London, Pamela also marked a defining moment in the emergence of the modern novel. In the words of one contemporary, it divided the world into two different Parties, Pamelists and Anti-pamelists, even eclipsing the sensational factional politics of the day.

Preached for its morality, and denounced as pornography in disguise, it vividly describes a young servant's long resistance to the attempts of her predatory master to seduce her. Written in the voice of its low-born heroine, Pamela is not only a work of pioneering psychological complexity, but also a compelling and provocative study of power and its abuse.

Based on the original text of 1740, from which Richardson later retreated in a series of defensive revisions, this edition makes available the version of Pamela that aroused such widespread controversy on its first appearance.

Genres: Classics, Fiction, 18th Century, Romance, Literature, School, British Literature

592 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 1740

About the author

Pamela (1740) and Clarissa Harlowe (1748) of English writer Samuel Richardson helped to legitimize the novel as a literary form in English.

An established printer and publisher for most of his life, Richardson wrote his first novel at the age of 51. He is best known for his major 18th-century epistolary novel Sir Charles Grandison (1753).

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Samuel_...

Reviews

[Deborah Markus · Rating 3 out of 5]

Creepy 18th-century Guy: Hey, baby. Now that my mom died, I’m your boss now.

Innocent Maidservant: Um, yeah. I know.

CG: But don’t worry. I’ll take reeeeaaaallly good care of you.

IM: ...thanks?

CG: And I’m sure you’ll want to be nice to me right back, if you know what I’m saying. Wink, wink. Nudge, nudge.

IM: I always try to be nice, sir.

CG: Have I mentioned how hot you are?

IM: Okay, this is getting uncool.

CG: Hey, I’m all rich and powerful and you’re just some little nobody. You should be flattered I’m even noticing you.

IM: ...again with the thanks?

CG: I have a bleep-ton of money, and I’m willing to share.

IM: I’m happy with my salary, sir.

CG: But you could be making waaaaay more money. AND you could be making me happy. I mean, what are you – uptight?

IM: Please take your hands off me, sir.

CG: Okay, enough beating around the bush.

IM: Gross, sir.

CG: I’m ready to give you a lot of money. And a house. And cool clothes – girls like clothes, right? And I’ll throw in a nice little settlement for your parents, too, while I’m at it.

IM: If you think my parents would take money from a cad, you so don’t know them.

CG: Did you just call me a cad?

IM: I don’t know. Did I?

CG: Okay, that’s it. If you won’t accept my offer, I’ll just take what I want.

IM: You better not. I’ll scream and faint.

CG: Yeah, whatever.

IM: And I’ll fall into fits.

CG: What does that even mean?

IM: I’m not sure, but it’ll totally gross you out.

CG: Are you serious?

IM: Serious as cancer, sir.

CG: You’re not bluffing?

IM: I’m totally not.

CG: Holding out for more money?

IM: Nope.

CG: I’ll kidnap you and stuff.

IM: I feel a fit coming on.

CG: Ew, don’t.

IM: Can’t help it. I’m just that virtuous.

CG: The way you say no is making me hotter for you every minute.

IM: Yes, sir. That’s called being male.

CG: I can’t live without you! Marry me!

IM: Sure!

CG: Seriously?

IM: Heck, yeah. I had a total crush on you all along. I knew deep deep deep deep down you had to be a really nice guy.

CG: Just so you know: After we’re married, I’m going to do that thing where I talk about how you’re so much better than I am, and then I’m going to prove how much I believe it by being the total boss of you.

IM: Now who’s making ME hot?

CG: Awesome.

Okay, so it’s not exactly a feminist classic.

Although in a weird way, it sort of is. If you squint.

Fact: Pamela was the first English-language novel whose heroine worked for a living. It still stands almost alone in being a fictional portrait of a servant who has dignity, intelligence, and strong morality.

Other fact: At the time Pamela was written, it actually needed pointing out that servants were fellow human beings, and that the honor of a maidservant was, on a cosmic scale, every bit as important as that of a lady. (Sadly, this still needs pointing out to plenty of people.)

I read this because I’m working on a fictional diary of an early 19th-century girl. She’s a reader, and Pamela was the Twilight of the time. There was merchandise and everything. So I had to read this, because there’s no way she wouldn’t have.

That said: This is not a romp. If you’re not doing research, I don’t recommend this as a pleasure read. Pamela’s earnest notes on how she can strive to be the perfect wife will make any modern reader squirm, and the way he treats her after they’re married is actually creepier than his previous relentless sexual harassment. I mean, at least back then everybody knew he was being a jerk. Now he’s supposedly a reformed rake. And he’s still – well, ew.

Glad I read it. Glad I’m done.

Now I’m going to find Shamela and The Anti-Pamela, two short contemporary parodies that sound funny and have at least the virtue of being short.

[Charlotte · Rating 1 out of 5]

I did not finish this book. Because it is a million pages that boil down to:

PAMELA: I am a lowly maid. Yet my virtue, look at it.
MASTER-OF-THE-HOUSE: Ooh, dazzling. How 'bout you let me avail myself of some of that virtue?
PAMELA: No!
MASTER: YES.
PAMELA: No!
MASTER: YES.

[Insert cross-dressing in-bed-hiding country-house-involving shenanigans.:]

MASTER-OF-THE-HOUSE: Your virtue, it has won me over. Marry me?
PAMELA: But of course.

Ok, the shenanigans make it sound vaguely amusing? Just know that there are MANY MANY pages where Pamela details how awesome she is and the shenanigans are not nearly ripping or amusing enough to compensate for the remaining tedium.

Very popular in its day, though. Fathers bought it for their daughters. You could buy Pamela fans and tea-sets.

[Sasha · Rating 1 out of 5]

When I read classics, it's not all about just reading them. I'm also trying to discover what's made them classics. I want to know why people like them so much. And I can usually figure something out; that's why I end up with so many five star reviews. But this? This piece of shit escapes me.

The first half is entertaining enough, as the vaguely-named Mr. B---- kidnaps a servant and tries to steal her titular virtue. There are dastardly schemes and narrow escapes. He dresses up like a woman in order to sneak into her bedroom and try to rape her. He makes a good villain, as does the vile Mrs. Jewkes, his accomplice.

Around halfway through, as plots and threats have failed to pierce Pamela's iron hymen, he changes his strategy: the carrot instead of the stick, so to speak. And Richardson has laid enough clues to make us suspect the wolf can't change his ways, so there's some suspense as we wait to see what new depths he's sunk to, and whether Pamela will escape with her virtue intact. (Not that the title leaves us much in doubt.) But then...

nothing happens. It turns out he actually has changed his ways, and the last 300 pages of the book is nothing but them batting their eyes at each other. "Oh sir, you are so kind and pleasant, I shall never grow tired of you!" "But it's only your dear, sweet virtue, my beloved, that has made me into this paragon of spousely excellence!" "Oh, but it's only your excellence that makes me love you with such virtue!" "But if it weren't for your virtue, I fear I should never have become such a prince of love!" Leave aside the fact that his prior behavior has been so criminal that it's utterly impossible to feel anything but horror that she ends up marrying him; the bigger problem is how fucking tedious it is.

Don't misunderstand me here: nothing else happens. Nothing. That's it, on and on, for hundreds of awful pages. There are parts of Atlas Shrugged that are better than the latter half of this book. It sucks so hard, man. I'm so sad that I read it.

Pamela was important in its time; its characterization and use of the epistolary was groundbreaking, and it influenced great authors like Jane Austen. But it was and is also super shitty, so you don't have to read it unless you're into the history of literature - which is different from being into good literature. If you're not an academic, you don't need this in your life.

Do not read this book.

[Lynn · Rating 4 out of 5]

It saddens me that Goodreads has no love for this book. First of all, it's one of the earliest novels ever written, so it deserves more respect from that perspective alone. Secondly, you have to place it in its time. Early 18th century readers found this material quite titillating, and of course wanted to see a virtuous end to all the lasciviousness. That way, they could have their cake and eat it, too. For its time, this was really racy material. Naturally nowadays we find the idea of a woman who is nearly raped and yet falls in love with her rapist reprehensible, and rightly so. But you have to understand that back then, relationships were different. Once Mr. B, the antagonist, realizes that Pamela is determined to stay virtuous, his attitude towards her changes, which makes it permissible for her to fall in love with him.

I seriously think that Richardson wrote this novel with his tongue firmly in his cheek. It was published on an installment plan, which is why it seems to drag out for readers today. Think of it as the GAME OF THRONES of its time, if you will. There aren't as many differences between the two as you might think.

Oh, yes: it's an epistolary novel. Some readers might hate it for that reason alone. And the Version I read in College capitalized all the Nouns and important Modifers, because that's what Readers expected from the Author back then. Makes for some Ponderous reading today.

[Paul Perry · Rating 1 out of 5]

I encountered Samuel Richardson's Pamela many years ago as part of my History of the Novel module at university. I was introduced to some great works through that course, and there are two reasons I am grateful for being introduced to this; mostly, because it was the first year the class had read Pamela rather than Clarissa (which is more than twice the length), but also because it made it clear to us that even in an academic environment there are books which are considered as classics because of their place in history that it is perfectly acceptable to hate. And almost the whole class really, really hated this book.

Most of the defence of this book is that 'morals and social mores were different then', which is undoubtedly true, but for me misses the point entirely as well as being poor reasoning. Richardson was writing with the explicit intent of creating moral instruction manuals - and tracts rarely make good literature. Pamela, an attractive servant girl, is kidnapped by the dastardly squire and spends five hundred pages defending her honour, until - shock, horror! - the dastard is won over and offers to make her his wife. Cue several hundred more pages of fluttering eyelashes and betrothals of eternal love.

Lots has been written about this book defining the novel and illustrating the changing the changing master/servant relationships of the time. What? The novel had been around for more than a century and was already popular and in rude health. And there were far better writers working at the time, such as Henry Fielding who mercilessly lambasted this work with his parody Shamela. And as for throwing light on the master/servant relationship, this book bears no more relationship to reality than the reams of romantic Mills and Boon literature it has inspired. Let's not forget, this book was published twenty years after Moll Flanders, a book which has so much more to say about the possibilities of a woman's place in 18th Century England, as well as being far better written and still more relevant today - as I'm sure it was then - and more realistic (okay, in a different stratum of society, and realistic in the challenges Moll faces rather than her survival of them, but my point still stands).

Yes, it took books years to circulate, but Richardson was a publisher in London. He was aware of Moll Flanders and books inspired by it, and deliberately set out to write books that were 'conduct letters' on how a young lady should behave (he was also a publisher of some wealth and standing, and it is debatable that his books would have been the success they were had he not had the power to print and market them). He wasn't saying that virtue and a good marriage were the most a woman could expect from life, he was saying that ought to be the most she can expect from life. There are no grey areas. Pamela resists the squire's advances and her virtue is rewarded. I understand Clarissa does have much more depth (perhaps Richardson was truly stung by Fielding's riposte), but he still sticks with the horribly clunky epistolary style.

I would certainly recommend reading it, as I did, as part of a sequence showing how the English novel developed (Defoe, Richardson, Fielding, Fanny Burney, etc - although I also wish this had included some European literature which of course had a huge influence on Britain - remember most educated people read French, Latin and possibly Italian - and almost all forms and styles were imported from the continent).

[Patrick Hennessy · Rating 2 out of 5]

read the one thousand plus pages or just the title, which also tells the whole story

[Penelope Irving · Rating 4 out of 5]

Come on, Goodreads - surely Richardson deserves at least four stars for inventing the novel? Pamela was the first time the full potential of long prose narrative was realised as a form that could explore character and psychology as well as tell a story. By hitting on the concept of the epistolary novel almost by accident (Pamela grew out of a non-fiction book of letter templates that Richardson had been commissioned to write), Richardson's discovery of 'writing to the moment' set English and indeed world literature on a whole new path. He was a major influence on Jane Austen, and in his time was universally read.

While the thoughtworld of the mid eighteenth century is far removed from ours, some of the values central to Pamela should not be so difficult for us to relate to. Society today takes the issue of consent in a sexual relationship extremely seriously, particularly female consent - far more seriously, indeed, than it was taken in the 1740s, when there was a widespread assumption that lower-class women were probably up for it, and could only be blamed if they 'fell'. At the centre of this book is Pamela's spirited struggle to maintain her right to withhold her consent, in the face of a major power imbalance between herself and Mr B, and the prevailing social mores which (as more than one peripheral character comments) would have her be grateful for his attention and take his money in exchange for sex. Pamela might be preachy but she is also smart, strong, perceptive and gives Mr B no quarter until she can bring him to her own terms. At its core, it's a message modern readers ought to be able to get behind.

Yes, the book is a bit long and repetitive, but the novel was at such an early stage of development that it can be given a lot of leeway for faults in form. Clarissa, which followed it, is much longer - and much better.

I admit to a long-time soft spot for Richardson. I even considered doing postgraduate work on him at one point, and must be one of the few people alive who have actually read Sir Charles Grandison all the way through. But Pamela occupies a unique place in the history of English literature - in the history of media entertainment, overall - and it deserves respect.

[Michael · Rating 2 out of 5]

Undoubtedly I was far too young to appreciate this when I was assigned it as an undergraduate. I will have to revisit it at some point.

[Sherwood Smith]

Reading this is like watching the invention of literature before your eyes. Richardson began this as yet another work-for-hire series of "conduct letters" of the sort that Madame De La Fayette et al made popular during the 1600s, but the story took off in such a way that it became more like, oh, a reality show that develops into its own story. Richardson developed the narrative "a l'moment" approach, that is, slipping inside the character's skin and reporting on what they were thinking and feeling at the moment. The effect was riveting.

The plot is simplistic: Pamela spends 500 pages keeping her virtue from her lord and master, Mr. B--; like Beaumarchais's comedy, here, for the first time, we have a commoner as hero, who brings the lord to heel.

We also get a close look at relationships and how marriages were made. The lists the two made up for marriage are quite enlightening.

This novel became a multimedia event: there were plates and fashions and posters and all kinds of Pamela stuff . . . and of course the satires! Even Eliza Haywood got into the act, with her Anti-Pamela but the most famous is Fielding's Shamela with its long beginning full of puffery between writers busy praising each other, and its pokes at the government of the time for barefaced piracy in order to make the rich richer, and shaft the rest of the nation.

Nowadays few read it outside of school, and for the average eighteen year old yawning through an Intro to Lit course, this story of the maid who protects her virtue despite various attempts against it until she is rewarded with love, position, wealth, and respect, seems really silly. One might even wonder why the heck it was so popular a best seller as to propel its author to the front ranks of 1740s fictioneering.

Well, part of the answer lies in the plot—instead of writing about a protagonist in high life, Richardson chose a working girl from a humble background. She’s a housemaid. There were a whole lot of people of ordinary walks of life who really liked this story of a humble girl making good. But for the more sophisticated readers, it’s the narrative voice that was so stunning. The accepted frame of novels had been the narrator writing after the fact, and though there were epistolary novels aplenty, they too largely affected that flat distance. Richardson’s novel engaged successfully with immediacy–Pamela and the rest desperately writing letters within minutes after the exciting events they relate.

Exciting as it was, the novel also opened Richardson up to parody: at one point in Fielding’s Shamela the eponymous heroine notes in one of her desperate letters that there are three people in a bed, and two of them are shamming sleep so they can scribble their latest adventures. People are hopping in and out of rooms, busily scribbling to one another in secret in between bawdy adventures.

Fielding actually suppressed Shamela after two quick editions (the second with fast emendations to poke at some political developments of the time). The book that drew my eye was one scarcely mentioned by my English prof way back when: Joseph Andrews, the companion volume Fielding wrote. This novel concerns Pamela’s brother, who is a good-looking young man taken in as a footman, and who wishes to preserve his virtue, despite the strenuous efforts of the various women of his acquaintaince, from the lady who employs him down to her own servants, to romance him. After a long, extremely funny scene of hinting around, and Joseph being steadfast in his refusal to take the hints, Lady Booby cries out, “Did ever Mortal hear of a Man’s Virtue?”

Fielding goes on to stick his quill into the complacent, civilized, and practiced corruption of the government of the time, the selfish attitudes of people toward those in want, and he makes a lot of really nasty jibes against the actor Colley Cibber, whose recent autobiography had not just dismissed Fielding with one condescending reference, but apparently is most disingenuous in its self-aggrandizement. No version of Entertainment Weekly or Jon Stewart could be more gossipy or satiric about current celebrities, or governmental shenanigans.

I love eighteenth century novels for their bawdy freedom, their slapstick action trading off with wit. Few are written in stylish prose, they are bumpy and jerky in construction as their authors, writing fast, explored the possibilities of narration, plot, character, and voice–they were busy inventing the novel, as there were no rules. Those novels are chock-full of real life detail that the more refined writers of the 19th century draw the veil of delicacy over, but which are most enlightening to us. The plots creak with what later became cliché, but one discovers where the clichés originated.

[Abbie · Rating 2 out of 5]

Anyone who's had the Sisyphean task of reading this shares a cosmic bond: if you have, you know what I mean. This and "Dear Mr. Henshaw" make me want to slit my own wrists in reaction to the idea of the epistolary novel. Fucking Pamela is one dipshit of a girl, but Richardson himself is no better. Any time I see a terrible, modern didactic novel I feel reassured knowing it will end up as beloved & well-known as this one in the future.

[Heather · Rating 2 out of 5]

I really didn't like this book. My British novel professor assures me that my affection for it will grow over the years, but I somehow doubt that at this point. Pamela is a dangerous picture of womanhood... she is largely responsible for the whole "women have power in powerlessness" idea that left many, many women abused and riddled with the sexually transmitted diseases their husbands brought home in the 18th and 19th centuries. Because of Pamela, I'm sure they often believed that if they were just virtuous ENOUGH, their husbands would be shamed into changing their ways. Richardson is also clearly fascinated with the many near-rape scenes he writes in great detail, and places a great deal of importance on the role of Pamela's letters (his own writing) in the narrative. The only good things I have to say about it are that it is occasionally beautiful (I really like the line that goes something like, "Why Pamela, you are like an April day - you cry and laugh in a breath.") and in a way, it is ridiculously funny at times. Overall it was worth reading as an an enormously influential classic novel, but the feminist in me wishes it had never been written.

[Cristal · Rating 1 out of 5]

(I would like to point out that the following review is more of a rant than a proper review and will be of no benefit for those wishing to ascertain the quality of the novel)

I have rated this book so low, not because it lacks literary value, but because the plot alone is abhorrent to my delicate sensibilities. This poor girl is sexually assaulted several times as Mr. B makes multiple attempts to rape her and THEN (because she refuses to be violated) she is tricked into a several month long imprisonment with cruel and unrelenting servants of Mr. B, driven to desperate escape attempts and suicidal thoughts. And when Mr. B comes to this prison home, he tries to rape her AGAIN by having the housekeeper hold her down. Did I mention he hides in closets (plural, as in he does it more than once!), steals her letters, and disguises as a maid in the name of his 'love'? I could spend days yelling about the wrongness of what happens.

And what is to be the reward of her virtue? SHE GETS TO MARRY HER ASSAULTER!

Seriously, she marries the 'reformed' Mr. B. Yeah, she's rich now. Good for her. But she is married to the man who did all of ^that^ to her. Not ok.

Another thing. She spends the rest of the novel married and effusively thankful to him. No. She should not be on her knees, groveling for how he has raised her above her station. She hasn't been given a great honor. She has suffered from a severe case of Stockholm syndrome.

And I'm telling you what, if this were real, and (like in the novel) her father tracked them down, he would not be mincing words and wringing his hands. No matter how poor he was, he'd be grabbing a musket and getting poor Pamela out of there, any means necessary.

[Classic reverie · Rating 5 out of 5]

After reading Samuel Richardson's Clarissa Harlowe, I knew I had to read his first novel "Pamela; or, Virtue Rewarded". Richardson was a printer and was urged by his friends to help illiterate population by examples of some form letters to help guide & instruct. His epistolary style was praised & the idea of Pamela came to be. He also wanted to instruct young people about the importance of God & virtuous living. Pamela was received with favorable following that he soon followed up with a sequel "Pamela in Her Exalted Condition". After finishing the first Pamela, I could not wait to read the whole story. This story had many of the same themes as Clarissa but with a different spin. The story is told in letters instead of chapters. The letters are not dated but the receiver & writer is revealed to us. In Virtue Rewarded Pamela Andrews is writing to her parents who are extremely poor due to occurrences of not their doing. Pamela is sent away at a young age of 10 years old to become a Lady's maidservant & becomes the favorite. In the letters to her parents she tells them of her Lady's death which recently occurred. Mr. B. (who is 25 years old), the Lady's son takes a liking to 16 year old Pamela. Unaware of any trouble coming her way & wondering about certain kindness the son gives to her she writes her parents for advice & they give it to her. She finds herself in a precarious situations which are governed by her wise & prudent behavior learned early in life by her parents, her religion & her Lady. Mr. B. is soon found to have a libertine background which makes Pamela fearful for herself & her virtue. Lady Davers, Mr. B's sister is concerned for the young girl & her brother's reputation. Pamela being poor & the Lady's family being rich. Lady Daver's is quite cross with her brother who seems to be thinking of his own desires which are not honorable. The second book tells of Pamela in her married state which has her dealing with jealously & an unknown future. Lady Davers & her husband's relative Mr. H. & his character comes into question.Both of these books compare living life with & without virtue & examples of both are given. Many different characters & their results of which path they took are the focus of both these books. The second book has several letters commenting on John Locke's Treatise of Education which was quite interesting in comparing life in the 18th century & present day. I found the arguments for & against breast feeding an infant extremely interesting because many classic novels have wet nurses so the mothers are free from this activity. Pamela is so desirous of this activity but her husband is against this. She is disappointed but submits to his wishes. Reading older books you have an idea what some of societies' problems & issues were living during that period in time. A few quotes- that caught my eye-"Mr. Locke says, that he has known a child so distracted with the number and variety of his playthings, that he tired his maid every day to look them over: and was so accustomed to abundance, that he never thought he had enough, but was always asking, "What more? What new thing shall I have? -"A good introduction," adds he, ironically, "to moderate desires, and the ready way to make a contented happy man."This quote reminds us all that no matter who we are rich or poor we come to the same end & God is the judge of all our doings & only our actions are important."Does various parts for various minds dispense: The meanest slaves, or those who hedge and ditch, Are useful, by their sweat, to feed the rich. The rich, in due return, impart their store; Which comfortably feeds the lab'ring poor. Nor let the rich the lowest slave distain: He's equally a link of Nature's chain: Labours to the same end, joins in one view; And both alike the will divine pursue; And, at the last, are levell'd, king and slave, Without distinction, in the silent grave."

[skein · Rating 3 out of 5]

Finally relinquished this to Goodwill, but not before re-reading the scribbles I made in the covers during my "The Origins Of The Novel" class, circa 2001:
"It's like a manifesto! Serving girls! Throw off your chains and marry your masters!"
... actually, my professor said that one.


Confession: I love Samuel Richardson. I love Pamela. I love Clarissa. I love the wicked Mr. B-, who practically twirls his mustache as he looms in corners, waiting for 'poor unhappy Pamela' to drop her defenses (and her drawers) so he can steal her sweet, sweet virtue. I love the ridiculous plot that somehow is not ridiculous when drawn out & elaborated piece-by-piece by Richardson. (A reader's version of Stockholm syndrome, perhaps? After spending 300 pages on a book, do we automatically believe anything?)

Other readers criticize unhappy Pamela for her docility, her passivity, her calf eyes and willingness to trust Mr. B- after having proof time and time again that he is just up to no good. I remind them of her escape, her lies, her dissembling and her general under-the-radar intelligence. She's hampered by virtue, not stupidity.

And oh! most of all I love the sunflower scene.
"What are you doing there, sauce-pot?"
"Just - uh - smelling a sunflower."
"Sunflowers have no scent, idiot."
"... so I find."

[Pam · Rating 5 out of 5]

BUT,of course I had to read my name sake!It was INDEED a hard read.
Pamela, or Virtue Rewarded is an "epistolary novel" by Samuel Richardson, first published in 1740. It tells the story of a beautiful but poor 15-year old servant-maid named Pamela Andrews whose master, Mr. B, a nobleman, makes unwanted advances towards her after the death of his mother whose maid she was since the age of 12. Mr. B is infatuated with her, first by her looks and then her innocence and intelligence but his high rank hinders him from proposing marriage. He abducts her and locks her up in one of his estates and attempts to seduce and rape her. She rejects him continually refusing to be his mistress though she begins to realize that she is falling in love with him. He intercepts and reads her letters to her parents and becomes even more enamored by her innocence and intelligence and her continuous attempts to escape. Her virtue is eventually rewarded when he shows his sincerity by proposing an equitable marriage to her as his legal wife. In the second part of the novel, Pamela attempts to accommodate herself to upper-class society and to build a successful relationship with him. The story was a bestseller of its time and was very widely read, even though it also received criticism for its perceived licentiousness.
British Literature at it's BEST..your Patience will be rewarded!

[Patrick · Rating 5 out of 5]

Apparently the psychological and literary brilliance of this pioneering novel are largely lost on contemporary readers and university students, to judge by the reviews here at Goodreads. So let me offer a countervoice. Not only is Pamela a completely absorbing read, but if you have any interest at all in understanding the historical development of the novel form (and not just in English), this is an essential book.

One of Richardson's strong suits is how the novel anticipates and provides fuel for ANY opinion the reader could have of the titular heroine. Is Pamela virtuous or cunning? Active or passive? Smart or stupid? The text will readily support any of those interpretations.

The preferred edition is the Oxford World's Classics paperback, which prints the original and most revolutionary edition of the much-revised novel.

[Michael Kneeland · Rating 2 out of 5]

Hello, dear reader, my name is Pamela and I am the human embodiment of the loftiest and most admirable virtues. Over the course of my tedious, overlong, and mind-numbingly predictable narrative, I will show you how I am the human embodiment of the loftiest and most admirable virtues.

For a woman.

In the 1700s.

Um, and how I am nearly essentially raped by the man I work for and how I inexplicably end up falling madly in love with him.

This will be a good read for you. It really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really will.

[Nancy · Rating 4 out of 5]

"This little Book will infallibly be looked upon as the hitherto much-wanted Standard or Pattern for this Kind of Writing. For it abounds with lively Images and Pictures; with Incidents natural, surprising, and perfectly adapted to the Story with Circumstances interesting to Person in common Life, as well as to those in exalted Stations....For as it borrows none of its Excellencies from the romantic Flights of unnatural Fancy, its being founded in Truth and Nature, and built upon Experience..." from the editor, 1740 edition of Pamela

Samuel Richardson's novel Pamela, Or Virtue Rewarded was on my reading list in a course on the early novel back in the 1970s. When I saw the Dover edition based on the 1741 edition of the novel on NetGalley I requested it to see why we should read it today.
Pamela's Story

Samuel Richardson (1689-1761) was over fifty years old when a bookseller asked him to write sample letters to teach the art of letter writing to the unskilled. Richardson had little formal education, having been born in the working class, but he loved to read.

He created the character of Pamela, a fifteen-year-old girl who writes letters home to her impoverish parents. Pamela is a maidservent to a titled lady. As the book opens the Lady has died and her son is now Master of the house. He realizes that the little girl Pamela has grown into a sixteen-year-old beauty. Pamela has been educated and dressed to pass flawlessly among good society.

The Master is a Rake. He does not believe in marriage, but he believes in the seduction of powerless young women. Pamela is a devote Christian and an obedient child who has been taught that her Virtue must be kept intact. She fends off the Master, even as he turns up the pressure and changes his tactics. Pamela endures a near rape experience, kidnapping, isolation, temptation to commit suicide, an offer of fiscal security for herself and her parents, and even professions of love.

After several hundred pages (both in the novel and in his letter reading!) the Master realizes that Pamela is the real thing-- and worthy of becoming his bride. In fact he decides she is the only woman he could marry. She has proven herself to be a better person than the high born ladies he has known: obedient, humble, open, pure, wise, obedient, and virtuous.

Suddenly Pamela realizes she loves the Master, that she always did, and now he is a reformed Rake she can admit it.

Questions arise in the reader: Was Pamela play acting, holding out like Anne Boylan who teased Henry VIII into marriage, or was she honest? How can she forgive the Master for months of terror and hell and marry him? She always said she did not and could not hate him, that if he would only behave properly she could forgive him. But there is a lot to forgive.

Pamela continually thanks God for her good fortune--and her Master for such condescension as to marry so below him. Because Pamela is aware of the great sacrifice her Master has made in marrying her she retains his old title of her Master.

Pamela's ordeal is not yet over; she has to meet his friends and prove herself all over again to his vengeful sister. Finally even sis has to agree that Pam is not a gold-digger, but is virtuous and pure and worthy of her brother.

"...when you are so good, like the slender Reed, to bend to the Hurricane, rather than, like the sturdy Oak, to resist it, you will always stand firm in my kind Opinion, while a contrary Conduct would uproot you, with all your Excellencies, from my Soul." --the Master to Pamela

All is not yet well. The Master gets mad at Pamela lectures her on how to behave like a proper wife: bend like a reed to his whims. The book ends with a 48-point list of all Pamela has learned about proper behavior and expectations.

Pamela in 1740

Richardson's book had a strong story line and a sympathetic character. The melodrama brought men and women alike to tears as they feared for Pamela's well being. The book flew off the shelves--the first best seller.

The book was a cultural game changer. People marketed Pamela mop caps and tea cups and fans and Richardson playing cards. It was quoted in sermons. The story was turned into plays and operas.

The sexual situations pushed the borders of the acceptable: as Pamela resists her Master's increasingly forceful attentions she finds herself in ever more tenuous situations. Undressed and in bed, her Master in disguise climbs in with her. When Pamela is kept hostage he tries to rape her; she is saved only because she passes out. There was controversy: Is this a book about proper conduct, or was it "thinly veiled pornography"?

Literary Influences

Writers satirized and copied the book. Henry Fielding's copycat book stars Shamela Andrews who sets out to seduce the squire to trick him into marriage. (Richardson's squire (a.k.a. the Master) was seduced while at college; the lady immigrated to America and a new life, leaving their child behind for the squire's sister to raise.) Novels about the trials of females in love proliferated; Pamela showed that people wanted to read about the female experience.

Richardson went on to write two more books, Clarissa and the Austen family favorite, Sir Charles Grandison. Richardson's books influenced Jane Austen whose first drafts of Sense and Sensibility and Pride and Prejudice were epistolary. The use of letters is important in Austen's novels.

Richardson's epistolary style allowed Pamela's voice an immediacy that brings the reader into her emotional and mental life. After the failure of Pamela's fake suicide to escape from her Master she is brought to her lowest point, even to considering actually committing suicide. She grapples with the implications of such an act:

"And wilt thou, for shortening thy transitory Griefs, heavy as they are, and weak as thou fanciest thyself, plunge both Body and Soul into everlasting Misery?...because wicked Men persecute thee, wilt though fly in the Face of the Almighty and bid Defiance to his Grace and Goodness, who can still turn all these Sufferings to thy Benefits? And how do I know, but that God, who sees all the lurking Vileness of my Heart, may not have permitted these Sufferings on that very Score, and to make me rely solely on his Grace and Assistance, who perhaps have too much prided myself in a vain Dependence on my own foolish Contrivances?"

This dramatic scene had to make readers weep for Pamela, even as it instructs readers to a Christian attitude toward suffering: complete reliance upon and trust in God.

Ways to Relate to Pamela

Today's reader can learn about the society of 1740. From coaches to dress to class to coaches to drinks, every aspect of life can be discovered. In a happy scene a drink with a toast and spices is shared, with everybody having a piece of the toast. Now I know where 'toasting' came from.

The book is democratic. Richardson's working class viewpoint is evident. His titled and privileged classes were NOT superior. In fact, in the last part of the story the Master himself confesses that his kind were badly coddled and not taught self restraint.

The subtitle Or Virtue Rewarded could have also been The Reformation of A Rake, as Pamela brings the Master to choose marriage over debauchery and reform his manners and morals. His sister is shocked to hear her brother talking like a 'preacher'!

Pamela faces every instance of abuse against women, all of which continues to this day: kidnapping, rape, pressure for sexual favors from those in power, workplace abuse.

In Pamela we get a foretaste of the Victorian Angel in the House, the female whose presence raises the moral fiber of the entire household.

Class in 1740 is well described: A man raises a wife into his class whereas a woman of rank debases herself by marrying beneath her. Pamela has all the attributes the Master considers primary in a woman to make him happy, including her setting him as her Master to whom she is obedient in all things. Actually, she is the only woman who could fit the bill. No high born lady would tolerate his demands for primacy in all things.

"...I am not perfect myself: No, I am greatly imperfect. yet will I not allow, that my Imperfections shall excuse those of my Wife, or make her thin I ought to bear Faults in her, that she can rectify, because she bears greater from me." said by the squire to Pamela

In that list of rules Pamela has compiled is No. 21: That Love before Marriage is absolutely necessary. A very contemporary idea! Also one Jane Austen professed; that is why she backed out of an accepted proposal of marriage--she knew she didn't love the man.

Other rules, such as "the words Command and Obey shall be blotted out of his Vocabulary" and "a Man should desire nothing of his Wife but what is significant, reasonable, just" are surprisingly humane at a time when women were powerless in marriage.

Did you watch Poldark on Masterpiece Theater this past year? What happened? Poldark bedded then married his scullery maid, who then underwent social ostracism until she proves herself? That is very like the second part of Pamela's story. It was Richardson's book that started a landslide of books about the female experience.

Conclusion
There were times when Pamela's voice and character were strong and moving. And many pages which I couldn't wait to get through; often this happened when Pamela was retelling her story to new people or in the second volume when Richardson was refreshing readers on events from the first volume. Pamela is heroic in her standing up to adversity with moral fortitude. She is also always humble and non-confrontational, engendering Non-violent resistance. In these ways we can admire her.

I am glad to have read the novel after forty years. I would love to be back in a classroom setting to discuss it. My book club members, especially the women, would hate Pamela for her passivity and acceptance of her rank in the class structure. They would rail at her marriage to the undeserving Master. They would leave the book unfinished. The wish fulfillment ending for the 1740s audience would not appeal to contemporary liberated gals. Those who enjoy the classics and the experience of reading works that established the genre will find much to learn and enjoy from Pamela.

The Dover edition offers exactly what the original readers found in their hands. There are no footnotes or articles about Richardson or the novel.

I received a free ebook from the publisher through NetGalley in exchange for a fair and unbiased review.

[Matthew Gatheringwater · Rating 3 out of 5]

I imagine that most people today read this book to laugh at its outdated morality. Certainly, there is something funny in the premise of the story: Pamela, a poor but dignified servant girl, attracts the attention of a rich squire who deceives and kidnaps her but somehow is so impressed by her natural modesty and virtue that he is reluctant to take outright from her what she is unwilling to give.

One way to read the novel (a way that must certainly have contributed to the book's initial popularity and controversy) is to take a kind of perverse pleasure in anticipating what new indignity poor Pamela will next be subjected and how her next attempt at escape will be thwarted by the evil (but attractive) squire.

I laughed at the outdated sexual morality, too, but found other, surprisingly progressive, aspects of the novel to be sobering and touching.

For example, it is Pamela's behavior, not her class or economic position, that makes her admirable both to the squire and to the reader. One may argue that Pamela would not have been a representative waiting-maid (her education and vocabulary, for example, are more than one would expect), but her nobility of character seems to foreshadow a redefinition of gentility that would become such an important theme to Victorian-era novelists.

For all her primness, Pamela is unexpectedly powerful. A pair of docile cows may once thwart her escape from the squire, but it is ultimately she who prevails over him. Her words have the power to change minds and character. The novel is presented as a series of letters from her to her parents, but they become mixed up in the plot, when her captor discovers she is writing. Nowhere in the novel does their symbolic power get more mixed up with her sexual power than when the squire reaches up under her dress to steal letters hidden in her petticoats--a salacious scene indeed, for a novel the author claimed was “to Divert and Entertain, and at the same time to Instruct, and Improve the Minds of the YOUTH of both Sexes.”

[Kim · Rating 4 out of 5]

Oh great, now I'm going to have to read this again. Not that it is a bad thing, I see I gave it four stars the first time, although some days when I read I have the total opposite reaction to a book I've read before, I don't know why. Maybe it was just the mood I was in. Anyway, I am putting my books in order, or trying to, and came across another thankfully short book that brought this book to mind (everyone's mind other than mine that is), so now I have to read this again just to see what I think of it. Reading some of the reviews it sounds slightly familiar in a foggy sort of way, but it certainly isn't clear. So, I guess I will put it back on the read again shelf in the living room. One of the shelves anyway, when I make room for it.

[Abigail Bok · Rating 3 out of 5]

For the first half of this book I wanted nothing so much as to take a shower, so icky did I find its drawn-out rape fantasy. For the second half of the book I wanted to vomit at the treacly virtue-signaling. But after I finished it I was reluctantly impressed by its aims and strategy, by its subversive effects. What changed my mind, or at least expanded my view? Read on.

First, a bit about the story. Pamela Andrews is a fifteen-year-old maidservant in a wealthy woman’s household. She is beloved of her mistress, who treats her kindly and is training her in some of the skills and accomplishments of a girl of better breeding. Her mistress dies suddenly, and Pamela finds herself now in the household of the elder lady’s twenty-something son. Pamela is initially not too worried; the son has always been kind and respectful to her.

(If you are particularly sensitive to spoilers, skip this paragraph and the next.) But soon he starts trying to take liberties with her, and she resists. In a series of letters to her parents and later a journal written for their perusal, she writes of her fear and attempts to protect her virtue. Her master is angry and punishes her for her resistance; eventually he has her kidnapped and taken to another of his houses, where he has a housekeeper who is compliant to his wishes and keeps her prisoner till he can have his way with her. This persecution continues for half the book, with endless variations on the master’s attempts and Pamela’s near escapes.

Late in the first half, the master, Mr. B., after reading some of her writings, becomes moved by all he has made her suffer. He vows to allow her to return to her parents, then calls her back and his attitude toward her begins to change. Soon they are married, and the book changes into an extended moralistic screed about proper behavior in marriage, obedience, humility, generosity, spiritual virtue erasing worldly hierarchy, etc. etc. Mr. B. slowly gains in respect, Pamela slowly gains in confidence, everyone loves them at last and all is well.

The first crack in my resistance to the book came as I realized that it was revolutionary for Samuel Richardson to write the book from the point of view of a servant. Not only is she shown throughout to be a human in a dehumanizing situation, she is the one sitting in judgment on everyone else. In the world of mid-eighteenth-century England, this was a startlingly bold act. The reader is invited to see that world through her eyes, to sympathize with her, and to find fault with those placed above her. Mr. B. is constantly claiming his right, his virtue, and his honor while behaving coercively and dishonorably, and we are invited to see that as hypocrisy. Other characters are shown to be wicked to the extent that they do not show Pamela respect. We can be shocked when one squire expresses a broadly accepted sentiment: “Why, what is all this . . . but that our neighbour has a mind to his mother’s waiting-maid! . . . I don’t see any great injury will be done her, he hurts no family by this.”

The door thus opened, I realized that a book like this was an early salvo in the feminism wars, even though written by a man. Women, despite the constraints placed on them by convention, are presented as rational creatures who think, feel, and fight for a share of freedom. The men standing in their way are despised. And this leveling tendency is extended to class warfare: at one point reference is made to Diogenes, who looked at the bones of Alexander the Great and his slaves and could tell no difference between them—they were equal in God’s sight. Much is made of the idea that Pamela’s devotion to virtue and godliness makes her the equal of anyone, regardless of rank or wealth or even education.

I also found a good deal to interest me in the subtleties of Richardson’s language. Although the bulk of the story is told by Pamela, each character has his or her own dialect and habits of speech and mind. Richardson revised the book continually till he died (the version I read was his final one, published posthumously in 1801), and the notes indicated that in some spots he made the text more vulgar, in others more genteel, as he refined his vision of the characters. There’s a lot of shrewd observation and some comic relief; they are believable humans, not just melodramatic embodiments of villainy or heroism. And at least some of the characters grow and change as the tale progresses, learning from experience.

In short, while the structure of the book may be clumsy, the plot distasteful, it has a lot going on. For fans of Jane Austen, there are enough echoes of familiar scenes to show that she used Richardson’s work as a major source of inspiration, copying some ideas and challenging others, building and refining on the foundation he provided. Like Mr. B., I ended with a good deal of respect for Pamela.

[George · Rating 3 out of 5]

An interesting, long epistolary novel (around 500 pages), about the trials and tribulations of virtuous sixteen year old Pamela, who is beautiful, virtuous and perfectly behaved, always. Pamela has been the servant of an elderly rich woman who treated Pamela kindly. Just after the rich woman dies, her son, the Master of the estate, takes a liking to Pamela and tries to seduce her on a number of occasions. The Master is so taken with Pamela that he stops her leaving his property. Pamela begs to leave the Master’s house and return to her poor parents residence. Pamela must deal with being imprisoned in a house against her will and poorly dealt with by the Master’s servants as they had to obey his instructions. Much of the novel is about the struggles and negotiations between Pamela and the Master.

The novel is about the inequalities of status and power. I liked the part when the Master’s sister bursts in on Pamela whilst the Master is away. The sister berates Pamela, showing Pamela not the least bit of respect. The sister asks the servant to bring Pamela to her, stating, “Bid the wench to come down to me.”

I prefer Richardson’s novel, ‘Clarissa’, as there is more wit and clever dialogue between the two main protagonists. ‘Clarissa’ was written some years after ‘Pamela’. However, ‘Clarissa’ is three times longer that ‘Pamela’, being over 1,500 pages!

This book has particular relevance to readers who have an interest in the history of English literature. This book was first published in 1741.

[Rachel · Rating 1 out of 5]

Man, reading this book for 18th century literature was like a bad hangover except with no booze involved - just a headache. It was so very very long and so very very bad. I had to skim through the last half of the book, because I couldn't be bothered to give a damn.

The main character Pamela irritated me to death. Her virtue is her defining point and while I understand that morals and sexuality were VERY different in the 1700s, I didn't want to sit there and read page after page about a servant girl protecting her virtue from her CREEPY employer. The parody take on her (Shamela) was much more entertaining.

And don't even get me started on Mr. B. I wanted to throttle him and thrust a chastity belt in his face. This isn't to say I don't enjoy morally ambiguous characters ("A Clockwork Orange" is one of my favorite novels ever and we all know how sweet Alex is), but Mr. B and Pamela felt so flat to me. A cardboard box has more personality.

Of course, being forced to read this book for class and then being told repeatedly that it was the Greatest Thing Ever probably had a negative impact on my overall opinion. *sigh* Thank you, dear professor!

[fatma · Rating 1 out of 5]

DNF at 37%. brb gonna go purge this book's shittiness outta my life

(I was gonna finish this for class but then realized I didn't need to so adios richardson and your disgusting rape apologism) :)

(I usually don't rate books that I DNF but this book was such a dumpster fire that it doesn't deserve the mercy of a no-star rating)

[Arukiyomi · Rating 1 out of 5]

Start to finish: badly-written, moralising drivel. If this book hadn’t been as influential as it had been, this would probably have received my lowest rating. It did however prove inspirational to many in its time. I’m sure the world is a better place for it. Absolutely.

Pamela is a woman who sincerely believes that the best way to resist emotional and sexual abuse from her employer, Mr B., is to believe the best about him. She seems oblivious to the fact that he is an unrepentant predator nor to the fact that by not removing herself from the situation, she contributes to both the cause and result of what must be, oh, three quarters of the novel.

But after being a despicable lecher for most of the book, he suddenly turns over a new leaf and she, dim girl, decides that this is satisfactory and ends up marrying him. They settle down happily and she begins to work on his acquaintances and friends, sorting their debased lives out as well through her pious example. And then, suddenly,

right at the end, just when you think things are going to continue in the same vein they have for over 300 pages, absolutely nothing happens.

Oh, dear. Now I’ve spoiled it for you.

I thought this was a poor book from beginning to end. At the very least, this is misguided rubbish by a man who had absolutely no idea what it was like to be a vulnerable female in a male-dominated society where women’s needs came slightly lower down the scale than those of the family dog. To suggest that women who found themselves subject to compromise from the likes of Mr B., could simply hold fast to their virtue and defeat evil is naive at best and downright dangerous at worst.

And it’s written in the most laborious and over-elaborate style conceivable. Things happen but the whole thing is so drawn out you feel like nothing does. It’s epistolary, which is an entirely pointless structure which I don’t think a single author has ever pulled off to their credit.

So, I’ve read it to save you the bother. Go and find an author who can write a moral tale without sermonising and leave Richardson for lit. buffs to analyse.

[Alberony Martínez · Rating 3 out of 5]

Siendo una de las novelas más influyentes publicada en Gran Bretaña, Pamela o Virtud recompensada, marcó un momento decisivo en el surgimiento de la novela moderna, al punto que su publicación creó dos bandos, los parmelistas y antipamelistas, eclipsando la vida política de la época.
Un texto escrito bajo la forma epistolar, con una trama ajustada y un mensaje didáctico, dieron lugar a que esta forma fuera elogiado, imitados por algunos, pero a la vez surgieron algunos detractores, que llegaron a satirizarla. La hermosa Pamela Andrews, quien a través de esta carta dirigidas a sus padres, nos cuenta como la criada de quince años resiste a los intentos de seducción del acaudalado Mr. B hasta que escarmentado por su virtud, termina casándose. Para la época fue denunciada como pornografía disfrazada, por la larga resistencia de Pamela a los intentos de seducción por parte de su depredador.

Qué vemos en este novela, sino un complejo escenario psicológico, de una que intenta a toda costa no dejarse envolver de los encantamiento de su verdugo, y un verdugo que hace todo lo posible agarrado de las estratagemas psicológica, y con la ayuda del poder, utilizar el abuso para atraerse a Pamela Andrews. Un personaje que hizo todo lo posible para tenerla a su lado, cuando ella creí tener las alas de la libertad, dichas alas estaban siendo hiladas por Mr. B.

Una novela que en momento, claro si nos salimos un poco de la época, vemos a una mujer que aunque quiera relatar su virtud, hay momentos que nos preguntamos, y que mujer es esta tan floja, que en un sin numero de ocasiones quiso escapar del secuestro al que estaba sometido, pero el astuto Mr.B siempre tenia un as bajo la manga, terminaba en caer en su circulo. Los repetidos intentos de seducción del maestro enamorado -enfocados una y otra vez por la criada ingeniosa, condujeron al secuestro y encarcelamiento, en este circulo epistolar. Las ambiguedades de la novela es la que la hacen bestseller de la ficcion inglesa, como dije anteriormente, por un parte promueve un manual de comportamiento, pero por otra parte es ponografia encubierta.

[Pablo Livianos · Rating 1 out of 5]

El primer libro que puntúo sin haberlo acabado. Pero no podría acabarlo ni aunque me pagaran. Después de 200 páginas no necesito más. Esta es la obra más tediosa, insufrible, desesperante, monótona, e infumable con la que me he cruzado. Su valor histórico no la redime de ser un auténtico ladrillo.

Damn you, Samuel Richardson, you pretentious boring bastard!

[Gisela Hafezparast · Rating 4 out of 5]

Probably more a 3.5
I listened to this book through Audible and I think this suits this book very well. Like all of Richardson's books this has been written in monthly installments like many 18th Century books and just like Clarissa (which I loved) most of it is written in letter form, which makes it very entertaining.

The book is basically exactly what it says on the cover. It is all about virtue rewarded, although with 21st Century eyes it looks very unlikely and I am sure it did so to many 18th century eyes. Moreover, I had to remind myself constantly especially in the second half of the book that this is an 18th Century novel with 18th Century values and views about women and their role as well as that of "Masters" and Servants. If you don't do that, the story is really hard to take and my feminist and socialist side was very often outraged at the role of the "Master" could get away with just because he was first Pamela's Master to her being his servant and then as her Master to her being his wife.

Basically it is the story of a rich, spoiled rake trying to seduce his dead mother's chamber maid and not being in the least scrupulous to use all his power and money for this end. The virtuous and at least in the first half of the book, very clever Pamela however, manages to save her virtue and even converts his lust into love by rejecting him time and time again, including his offers to basically buy her favours. Moreover, through clever ploys and very well timed fainting fits she even stops him several times from raping her. The conversion from lover to husband, i.e. from wanna be seducer and rapist to lover and loving husband is, I am sure, even for 18th century readers, difficult to buy, although it is very entertaining.

What I found interesting is that Samuelson clearly still felt that a rich master marrying his servant because of her outstanding beauty and virtue would make his upper class society also to accept this marriage, as happens in the book. I am sure a Victorian writer, would have not felt the same way. If he is right, the boundaries of what a rich man could do were still more fluent. And Samuelson should know, by all accounts he was quite a rake himself and stopped at not much.

The conversion from clever maiden fighting for her virtue, frightened and disgusted by her Master to loving wife was difficult to believe. Her slavish, gratefulness and that of everyone around the Master however, only sounded too true and reminds me very much of what many a rich mans trophy wife might even experience these days.

The book also shows the 100% dependency of servants on their master. The book shows that this single man because of his standing in society and his money can destroy almost anybody who is "beneath him" and especially those financially dependent on him whenever he feels like it. The master treats most of his servants appallingly and some do his dirty work despite their better natures, whilst others are being encouraged by him to show their worst. He has total power and only his will counts and when he "forgives" them, they have to be grateful and clearly nobody thought anything wrong in that.

At the end of the book Samuelson explains to his readers the morals of the story and how various people should take it as a lesson. I am sorry, I am sure there has been many an 18th Century women who at this point was very tempted to throw the book against the wall.

Despite all this the book, like Clarissa, is extremely well written, the language beautiful, it's twist and turns never fail to amuse and sometimes you hold your breath because you fear for Pamela and others so much. Therefore, to anybody who can suspend their modern self and who loves classic literature, I would very much recommend this book. It is very entertaining for sure.

[Jessaka · Rating 1 out of 5]

Okay, I only got half way through the book. Then I realized that I was wasting my life, my time, my energy, and losing the joy of reading. This book is so boring............but I gave it two stars since it had some things of interest in it.


I began reading it because it was the first novel ever written and based on a true story. It is filled with letters from Pamela to her parents, and she tells her parents about how her Master is constantly trying to get her to sleep with him, and so he is harassing her. In her letters she keeps talking about virtue, and refers to herself as "Poor Pamela." I don't think I can ever look at another person named Pamela without putting "Poor" in front of her name.

After a while I realized that I didn't care if I couldn't really claim to have read this book and other classics like it, so I took it and a few other classics back to the library and picked up a good book, "Half Broke Horses."

P.S. Finished the book today. Still hated it, so I really wanted to be able to claim that I read it after all. Ugh!!

Here is my new take on the book: Woman resists sexual advances from her Master. She finally marries her, which is one of her rewards. But because she is so kind to others and so proper in speech, as well as forgiving, his relatives and friends take to her. He turns out, somehow, but every doubtful, to be a kind and generous man, so he rewards everyone, and Pamela gets a mansion, new clothes, jewelry, and everything a virtuous woman desires. Oh, to be so virtuous and to get such riches, because, you know, material things are what really matter i life, and the way to obtain them is to fight of sexual advances. It would have been better to have run away and risked getting killed by wild wolves. She reminds me of those who are kidnapped and fall in love with their kidnapper. Well, at least this book incensed me. I would have loved to have listened to those women who read this book back when it was written and sat around discussing it.

[Emmy B. · Rating 2 out of 5]

So this was like the Twilight or the Fifty Shades of its time, in that everybody was talking about it and people either were absolutely bonkers for it or they hated it. And I can kind of see both sides' points after reading it.

It's not a particularly enjoyable book to read. The good bits are short-lived, to be honest, and it is very repetitive and by the end I was skipping quite a bit since the endless recitations of how good Pamela was and is and always will be can make you want to track her down and smack her. Nor is it very satisfying to see the man-baby that is Mr B. be rewarded by Pamela's hand in marriage and her undying love and devotion. Especially since the only change in his character by the time he proposes is that he, well, proposes. I realise that's a big thing for a rich guy to do for a maidservant at the time, but still. She's all into virtue and he's a gross, raping man-baby.

But.

So, first of all, it's a book about a working class heroine. And the whole point of it is that she maintains her right to her body and choices from the very beginning, even though she's poor and a woman. And though it hardly seems that way to a modern reader, she is in a way being rewarded for this stance by getting the rich guy and, moreover, the approval and love of all the servants, the neighbouring gentry and even, eventually, his family. That was pretty radical at the time.

So I can see why people would have been fascinated and horrified by it, and why it was such a sensation at the time (though back then people were more interested in whether this was borderline porn or a morality tale...). For a modern reader, aside from being of interest to those who are passionate about the history of British literature or about the social history of the 18th century, there really isn't much there to enjoy, unfortunately.