Ophelia and the Extroverts

Within one week, I saw a production of Hamlet and read a recent Wall Street Journal article reluctantly telling introverts that one way to be happier may be to act like extroverts. Of course, I had to combine the two seemingly disparate experiences into a reflective blog post. Did you expect any less of me?

Sitting in the dark on a blanket in the grassy dirt of Kingsmen Park, it occurred to me that, as Queen Gertrude was telling Hamlet the story of Ophelia's drowning, there was no mention of anybody trying to help her (Ophelia). Gertrude seemed to luxuriate in telling how Ophelia's robes alternately buoyed her up before dragging her down, but she never says anything about calling for help. Did anyone think of going for a rope or a a tree branch or of throwing their own robes out Rapunzel-style? To my thinking, if there was enough time to watch Ophelia sing old songs and for her clothes to fully soak, perhaps there was some time for someone to have done something. And of course, there is the fact that we the audience don't even see the drowning itself; we are only told about it by the jabbering queen. Ophelia's death becomes less about Ophelia's suffering than about the drama queen's telling of it.

In an extrovert-dominant culture, extroverts are always trying to tell introverts' stories. Advice, however well-meant, that starts with "Act Like an Extrovert!" is not going to go over well with us. The article's author and interviewees speculate as to why acting like an extrovert may sometimes feel good to introverts. One possible explanation is that introverts worry that they'll be humiliated at, say, a party, and when they're not, they breathe a sigh of relief and have a good time. Maybe...

The real explanation, I think, why introverts may feel happy, exhilarated even, by acting like extroverts is because it is exciting to finally be listened to. Acting extroverted is often the only way we can get attention. So, it's not the extroverted behavior that makes us happy; rather, it's being listened to that makes us happy. We will endure the draining extrovert act demanded of us if it means we finally get to share what makes us passionate. (I think that's how so many bookworms like me ended up as teachers.)

Remember, introverts don't like isolation; they like quiet thinking time, but not all the time. (Remember my yoga post? There's such a thing as too much introspection, even for us.) The rest of the time we like to speak in deep and sustained conversations with one or two close friends at a time.

Ophelia's drowning is an extreme metaphor; we introverts are usually not suffering that much. But sometimes we do feel invisible because we're easy to ignore when we don't act like extroverts. So, if you see a nearby introvert fading away, throw them a line. But don't make the lifeline one which involves the introvert going out to parties or clubs with you. Instead, just sing some old songs with me as we float in the stream.