Edmond Dantes: Playdough or no?

Within the first chapter of the book, Edmond Dantes has everything taken from him—his career, his fiancé, his father, his good name. However, through his time in the prison and with Abbe Faria, he learns so much more about the world, and also gains the knowledge of a vast fortune, more than anything he could have amassed as a Captain of a ship. Miraculously, he escapes, and then begins his violent and ingenious crusade of vengeance. This will to avenge becomes the sole motivator of his life. By the time he returns to France, the narrator of the book no longer refers to him as Dantes. The narrator refers to him as “the Count” or sometimes even just “the man,” and describes him no longer as a humble, earnest person, but a “Avenging Angel,” who holds “deep in his heart a roar which would have made (people) flee in terror to hear it.”

Creative Common 2.0/ Jake Gamage

Dantes clings to the idea that if you “examine (his) past and present, and try to guess the future” you can decide whether or not God shaped him into one of his “instruments.” So here’s my question, do you think Edmond Dantes’ story proves that he was made to be an “instrument of God,” and if so, do his actions accurately reflect that?                                    

In addition to this blog, I’m planning on asking this question to some of my coworkers who’ve read Count of Monte Cristo, some of my past English classmates, and also reviewers on goodreads.