Function Order: Fe-Si-Ne-Ti
Florence delights in praise and wilts under criticism, so much so that her husband goes out of his way to feed her delusions about being a singer, by hiring people to surround her who will only affirm her desire to sing and not tell her the truth. She loves the spotlight, and to be the center of attention, even though she confesses to nervousness. Florence is opinionated, and doesn’t hesitate to share her feelings, from her complaining that a pianist is making her ears bleed to her tearful wish that she could have provided her husband with children. She lives in her own little reality, shaped by her experiences; her own memories and experiences matter very much to her, and she’s also interested in other people’s lives. Florence cannot see herself, or those around her, clearly, because she clings to a more imaginative interpretation in her mind. She is fussy about having things “just so”, to the extent that for fear of not having enough potato salad for their guests, her maid stocks the bathtub full of it. New ideas intrigue her. She loves to try out new things in her performances. She has an inkling after awhile that her husband is up to something, but doesn’t catch on that it’s a bad review until she reads those terrible words. Florence’s imaginative spirit and sense of whimsy is part of what people love about her. Still, she can be very naive about her husband’s mistress, as well as his need for private spaces. Logical detachment is difficult for Florence, but she does accept that some portions of her life are inescapable – such as the husband who gave her syphilis. She doesn’t question herself much (when asked if she wants to make a second recording, Florence says, “No, I think that one was flawless.”), but whenever she does, others quickly reassure her that it’s all right.
Enneagram: 2w3 so/sp
When Florence visits her pianist at home and sees the messy state of his apartment, she starts washing his dishes for him, insisting on it, because “if I don’t do them, they won’t get done.” She is active in charitable fundraisers and wants to do good for “our boys overseas” in the war effort. She takes the love she has to give, since she has no children, and puts it into public service and organizing instead; she’s an active socialite, forever holding dinners and encouraging others to get involved. She wishes she could contribute more, so she turns to music, her first and only passion. Since she can no longer play the piano, she starts to sing, hopeful that she can “bring joy” to people, and does not realize she sounds awful until people start to mock her in public, or assume she is a comedian who sings badly on purpose. The crushing realization of this causes her into a health collapse and she soon passes away, humiliated because no one had the courage to tell her the truth.