Pervasive Irony
Irony is pervasive throughout the novel for the simple reason that nothing Griffin expected from being invisible has really turned out anything like he expected. In fact, it has generally wound up being a completely ironic reversal of expectations. While talking to Kemp, Griffin confesses to ultimate paradox at the heart of this ironic letdown:
“I went over the heads of the things a man reckons desirable. No doubt invisibility made it possible to get them, but it made it impossible to enjoy them when they are got.”
Turns Out Clothes Do Make the Man
The most crushing irony that Griffin must face, perhaps, is that despite all the potential unmatched power invisibility offers, the single greatest obstruction to his plans—other than not being able to make himself actually visible—is to create the illusion of visibility by wearing clothes which inevitably only serve to draw the very same unwanted attention that he seeks with invisibility.
“to get clothing was to forego all my advantage, to make myself a strange and terrible thing.”
The Visible Man
The backstory that is conveyed through Griffin’s conversation with Kemp is a portrait of the driving irony of the story: Griffin was already seeking and attaining invisibility before he ever discovered the scientific secret to make it literally occur. Griffin reveals that his paranoia and misanthropic view of mankind so fully on display since his arrival at the inn is by no means symptomatic of his condition. To the contrary, his condition is a symptom of his basic fundamental character:
“...you know the knavish system of the scientific world. I simply would not publish, and let him share my credit. I went on working, I got nearer and nearer making my formula into an experiment, a reality. I told no living soul.”
Fame and Infamy
During that same conversation, Griffin also divulges an irony which he seems unaware of which itself predicts the ironic out of his experience. For some reason, the man working so hard to become unseen by the world actually entertains fantasies of becoming famous. The ironic outcome, of course, being that the best an invisible man can ever possibly hope for is to become infamous:
“I told no living soul, because I meant to flash my work upon the world with crushing effect and become famous at a blow.”
A Marvel-ous End
The book concludes with a short epilogue which reveals the secret to learning more about the Invisible Man than has been told in the story. One need only make the trip to Port Stowe and seek out an inn called The Invisible Man. The landlord there has much more to tell. That landlord turns out to be the former tramp whom Griffin had exploited for labor, Mr. Marvel. Ironically, the person who benefited the most from Griffin’s successful scientific experiment was the least likely person of all. Marvel ends up with Griffin’s perhaps priceless notebooks should anyone be able to figure them out and, much more to the point for him, all the money that working for the invisible man and relation his story of working for the invisible man could produce.
