In the last two paragraphs of Frankenstein, the creature gives a farewell, for both himself and the entire novel. “But soon…I shall die” he says, and proceeds to tell the audience what will happen. He does not say if, he never says maybe. His entire speech is delivered with calculated certainty; it is in this certainty that the unity of the new critical method is found.

The creature uses specific words, such as “soon” and “I shall” several times, to create both a sense of immediacy and a sense that the monster is not guessing at his future, but has planned it, or been told by some outside force what will occur. When the monster says “I shall ascend my funeral pile triumphantly, and exult in the agony of the torturing flames,” there is tension between the verbiage of triumphantly…exult” and “agony…torturing.” These words seem disjointed when separated, but in the context of the paragraph, they make sense; the certainty of the creature in what will happen make it easier to accept that the he will “exult in the agony.”

Between the two paragraphs, also, there is tension. The first paragraph, with the end of the creature’s speech, give promises of what will happen, but the last paragraph, ending “he was soon borne away by the waves, and lost in darkness and distance,” does not resolve the expectations of the creature’s speech. The actual action of the resolving plot seems to be missing. The certainty of his speech, however, tie together the detailed description and the ambiguous ending, in that the creature, so sure of what will happen, has resolved the end already. The last paragraph does not need to describe what happens, because the creature already has, and with an assuredness that makes it clear that it truly is what will happen.

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