David "Pudd'nhead" Wilson

Character Analysis

Loser, misfit, freak: David Wilson might be called any of these (as if being called Pudd'nhead weren't bad enough). Before our narrator gives us the lowdown on how this guy came to be known as the town laughingstock, we don't really know him too well. And as we come to find, Pudd'nhead's reputation tells us way more about the people judging him than it does about Pudd'nhead himself.

A Reputation Goes to the Dogs

It's really too bad about David Wilson, isn't it? As our narrator explains, the dude was all set to take Dawson's Landing by storm. That is, until he made a comment that rendered him the town's resident moron:

But for an unfortunate remark of his, [Wilson] would no doubt have entered at once upon a successful career at Dawson's Landing. But he made his fatal remark the first day he spent in the village, and it 'gaged' him. (1.14)

D'oh!

In case it's somehow slipped your mind what exactly that fatal remark was, let's take a quick look back at the infamous (and pretty absurdly funny) scene that brings about Pudd'nhead's demise. Recall that Pudd'nhead is hanging out with a crowd of men when a dog nearby starts yapping away. Annoyed by the incessant barking, Pudd'nhead announces to everyone that he wishes he owned half of the dog so that he could kill his half.

Say what?!? The crowd is outraged, but it's not because they're all members of PETA. No, they just can't believe what a dummy this guy is: they assume his remark implies that Pudd'nhead expected the other half of the dog to still be alive after he killed his half. And that makes him a complete, well, Pudd'nhead.

Sure, Pudd'nhead's idea for shutting the dog up is a little strange (hasn't this guy ever heard of a muzzle?), but the townspeople themselves come off looking pretty foolish for jumping to conclusions about Pudd'nhead's thought process. And let's face it: the mere fact that they're taking Pudd'nhead's offhand remark (and one that was probably a joke to begin with, albeit a strange one) so super seriously makes them look downright silly.

Indeed, later in the novel, we get plenty of hints that these folks aren't the brightest bulbs in the box and probably aren't in the best position to be judging the intelligence levels of others. The narrator tells us, for instance, that "irony was not for those people; their mental vision was not focused for it" (5.6). Burn.

Regardless of how questionable the public's judgments are, though, they still end up having a profound influence on Puddnhead's life. Check it out:

Within a week he had lost his first name; Pudd'nhead took its place [. . .] That first day's verdict made him a fool, and he was not able to get it set aside, or even modified. (1.30)

Pudd'nhead's bad wrap also puts the kibosh on his career aspirations. When he hangs up his shingle, he soon finds that no one's jumping to hire a pudd'nhead for a lawyer.

Pudd'nhead's character shows just how baseless, superficial, and plain crazy public opinion can be, which (listen up, everybody!) is a central concern of the novel as a whole.

Moreover, the story of Pudd'nhead suggests that no matter how ill-founded public judgment may be, it has the power to profoundly shape people's lives. Pretty scary.

And this gets us to thinking about more than just the reputation of one little guy (sorry, Pudd'nhead). Sure, it's outrageous for the townspeople to condemn Pudd'nhead's entire character on the basis of one tiny remark and render him a social outcast. But the impact of public opinion is even more destructive in this slaveholding culture that deems whole groups of people utterly inferior on the basis of equally superficial things like skin color.

Twain's critique of slavery and of racial prejudice shines through in characters like Tom, Roxy, and Chambers (go check out their Character Analyses to see for yourself). Pudd'nhead's character is a subtler but no less powerful means for Twain to get his readers to think about how shallow and damaging the assumptions we make about others can be.

The Perks of Being a Pudd'nhead

But, hey, don't cry for Pudd'nhead just yet.

It turns out that being branded the town fool comes with some pretty nifty benefits. In fact, we might even say that being stuck in a crappy situation is what allows Pudd'nhead to show us and everyone else what he's really made of.

After finding out that his legal career has gone down the toilet, for example, Pudd'nhead becomes even more determined to succeed:

With Scotch patience and pluck he resolved to live down his reputation and work his way into the legal field yet. (2.2)

All of those attempts by others to keep him down only succeed in lighting a fire under Pudd'nhead. And his determination is what helps him solve the murder case and become the star of the town.

At the same time, it's not like Pudd'nhead is under a whole lot of pressure to become a workaholic. In fact, without a high-powered career to consume all of his attention, Pudd'nhead is free to channel his energy into other areas of life:

He had a rich abundance of idle time, but it never hung heavy on his hands, for he interested himself in every new thing that was born into the universe of ideas, and studied it and experimented upon it at his house. (2.3)

Rather than moping around the house in his pajamas all day and spiraling into some deep depression over his ruined career prospects, Pudd'nhead focuses on cultivating his weird (uh, we mean, eccentric) interests.

Specifically, he studies palm reading, creates an almanac full of witty sayings, and, of course, collects people's fingerprints—the pastime that eventually leads to his triumph in court. In short, as a result of his difficulties, he becomes a more well-rounded, interesting, and resourceful person (hmm, wouldn't an interest in palmistry look great on a college application?).

Once again, this pays off big time in the trial when his crazy fingerprinting hobby helps him save the day.

Pudd'nhead's reputation as a lamebrain also allows him, ironically enough, to think more freely. In particular, no one in town bats an eye over Puddn'head's membership in the Free-thinker's Society, an organization in Dawson's Landing with a whopping two members (which, incidentally, tells us a little something about how many people in this town aren't thinking very freely now, doesn't it?).

Our narrator explains that, while Judge Driscoll's power makes it acceptable for him to do all the free thinking he wants, Pudd'nhead's powerlessness gives him that same opportunity:

Judge Driscoll could be a free-thinker and still hold his place in society, because he was the person of most consequence in the community, and therefore could venture to go his own way and follow out his own notions. [Pudd'nhead] was allowed the like liberty because he was a cipher in the estimation of the public, and nobody attached any importance to what he thought or did. (5.7)

As a "cipher," or someone without any power (the word literally means a "zero" for all you math geeks out there), Pudd'nhead is someone whom nobody expects or suspects anything of. The beauty of that situation is that he can get away with thinking whatever he wants. He could be plotting the overthrow of Dawson's Landing and these people wouldn't be any the wiser. So who's got the power now?

But, stand-up guy that he is, Pudd'nhead uses his powers for good not evil.

Pudd'nhead's ability to think outside the box serves him well as he's working to put together all the pieces of the murder case. His willingness to think outside the box opens up his mind to the possibility that, contrary to what everyone else assumes, it's not a woman who committed the murder but a dude dressed as a woman. Bingo!

So being a Pudd'nhead may not be such a bad thing after all. In fact, being cast out on the fringes of the social world can actually be a place of freedom to build character, to be who you are, and to think more freely. As Pudd'nhead shows us, that kind of freedom can even enable some people on the outskirts of a society doing their own thing to become heroes:

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 marvelous. (Conclusion.1)

How's that for a comeback?

Pudd'nhead's Timeline