ANNA VALERIOUS, EIGHT

She’s so brave and beautiful. And she can run like a boss in high-heeled boots! My favorite thing about Anna? She has a clear goal that she pursues relentlessly and achieves at the end. Who has that kind of perseverance?

Like Van Helsing, Anna has huge stunts and big action pieces. Body Type? I really can’t see a Nine being so driven. Probably an Eight. When the vampire wives corner her Anna is afraid but she’s still going to fight rather than wilt. Her first instinct is always to go aggressive when in doubt.

She is a kind of superhero, and Hollywood stories tend to make women the Eight in these cases. That willingness to fight when the physical odds are always against you is the key trait. In Anna’s case they’ve married her strength with a determined will. Her Eight-ness suffuses her character, which is wonderful. “I want to kill Dracula in order to save my family from eternal damnation” is one of the great action phrases an actor can play. Simple, clean, moving.

She might be my top Woman Eight. I’ll have to check!

VAN HELSING, NINE

I refer, of course, to the Van Helsing played by Hugh Jackman in the eponymous movie. I love this version of the classic monster tales!

He is brave, of course. He hunts the worst creatures and slays them under the imprimatur of the Church. Physically difficult and spiritually difficult. This is a high action movie, so the stunts are big and the character is daring. Must we immediately decide that he’s a Body Type?

He’s a Nine. Of course. He’s a superhero, after all. Also, he really doesn’t want to engage in emotional conflict. Kill the demons, bless their remains, and move on to the next one. His own personal biography is something he tries to avoid.

Cool, disconnected, physically capable. As a Nine, he would also be a good judge. Fair and impartial. If you’re going to kill a hell-damned abomination, you want to get the judgment right.

For the more traditional Dracula story (with its briefly seen Van Helsing), I really couldn’t think of an angle. Bela Lugosi, Gary Oldman, Frank Langella, Christopher Lee — all great vampire portrayers, but I didn’t want to write about any of them. Another time, perhaps.

Cormorant’s Lament

3″ x 3″ on wallboard.

Listen at bandcamp.

Settled as a governess at Thornfield, Jane has no reason to be dissatisfied, yet she can’t help but feel restless.

(JANE)
PRETTY SAIL A’SEA
BEWARE THE SURGE,
THE BLOW, THE SWELL,
THE CRASH, THE PURGE,
FOR ALL’S NOT WELL
AS THE STORM FINDS THEE.

WHEN THE MAST DOTH BREAK
THE FAIR ONE’S LOST:
AN ARM, A SHOE,
A BRACELET TOSSED,
A CORPSE ASKEW,
AS SHE RIDES THE WAKE.

AND THE BIRD WILL BLIGHT
WHAT WON’T SUBMERGE —
A CROAKING LOUD
YOUR ONLY DIRGE,
A WING YOUR SHROUD
AS YOUR SOUL TAKES FLIGHT

KAHN’S ELIZABETH, FIVE

Victor Frankenstein’s girl — fiancee, cousin, whatever she’s called — is a non-entity. She’s fridged! She basically dies so that Victor can feel something. Her arc is incidental.

Frederick’s girl is a whole ‘nother matter. Go Madeline!

She’s fussy. “Taffeta, darling.” Precise, prissy. Appearances, order, decorum, are all important to her. Partly she’s portrayed as uptight because it gives her an arc, a very funny one. Also, she represents society and civilization to Frederick. His arc is to leave all that behind and embrace his wild ancestor side. Although her character is stylized as a comedic tool, Kahn crafts all this into a true portrayal. 

Like Frederick, she also is set free by the end: she loves the Monster. He, reversing our expectations, becomes civilized. This Elizabeth has it all. Order, social appearance, dignity on the outside. Passion on the inside.

The Monster, with half of Frederick’s brain, becomes the Seven that can live in society without losing his wildness. (Frederick becomes a Seven who lives in the wild while holding onto some semblance of society.) This is the version of the man that suits Elizabeth best.

Passion on the quiet, dignity on the outside? Five.

FREDERICK FRANKENSTEIN, SEVEN

That’s Frankensteen.

In the Young Frankenstein story, Frederick is Victor’s great-grandson. He is the creator, the protagonist — like Victor — but he’s also a separate character with a different Enneagram. Possibly. What do we know?

He’s actually kind. He loves his Monster. (“This is a good boy! This is a mother’s angel!”) Everything frustrating about the original story — why won’t Victor show compassion toward his creation? — is addressed here. Love begets love. This Frankenstein taps into that.

He’s worried about the world’s opinion, at least for a while. Once his curiosity is engaged, he tosses that concern aside. And when he’s in, he’s all in. He solves the problem! Not only does he bring the Monster to life, he integrates him into society.

The castle, Frau Bluecher, Inga — Igor! — all the oddities, are nothing to him. Strange events come at him and he rolls with it. Accepting of all the weirdness the moment brings? Willing to try obscure paths? Non-judgmental of the loons around him? Seven.

THE MONSTER, FOUR

Again, we have split between the original Monster and the Young Frankenstein version. All iterations of the Monster have a sympathetic tendency, but the comedic one has almost no threat in him. Boris Karloff’s Monster is beloved because it can terrify. He pushes that little girl down the well!

Can a being brought to life by man have a soul? He can certainly have an Enneagram number.

The problem is the amount of versions. Some of the Monsters are deeply emotional, hurt, lonely and abandoned. Some are more brutish. Isn’t there always, to one degree or another, a level of envy? Because he’s given life and then rejected by his creator, the Monster is jealous of a relationship that other humans have naturally. When he realizes how he’s been cheated of this by Victor he becomes bitter and violent.

His lows are so very low. I want to say Four. This story is so poignant, so eternal, because the Monster expresses so much emotional pain. He has much to give, and yet he never has the chance to share and express it. Another number wouldn’t rock us with this heartache.

The Monster in Young Frankenstein is more a comedic tool than a character. He doesn’t arc, he just changes due to an operation. He doesn’t really speak. I don’t consider him to have an Enneagram. He’s a great foil for Wilder and Kahn, and is portrayed brilliantly by Boyle, but he’s a punch line rather than a person.

VICTOR FRANKENSTEIN, SIX

It’s funny to me that when I think of Frankenstein and its characters I go first to Mel Brooks’ comedic take, Young Frankenstein. The novel, the Boris Karloff movie, even later versions such as Kenneth Branagh’s, are secondary in my memory.

And so, in this post, I will try to isolate the original character, Victor. His hubris is one of the main themes. The advances of science mattered more than moral considerations. He is the protagonist, his is the arc, and he falls hard along the way.

What Enneagram number does that make him? First, I would say not a Heart Type. The story is particularly cruel regarding his treatment of the Monster. God the Father loves us, no matter what. Victor the Father cannot love his creation, even though he should. This is a heartless act.

He pursues the Monster to the ends of the earth, dying in an ice-bound ship. What number has the dedication, the fanaticism, to go to these limits? Ah. What about a Six? Their sense of right and wrong, white and black, will carry them through many trials. It’s also what got Victor in trouble in the first place. Once he’d convinced himself he had an obligation to dig up dead bodies and stitch them together, moral qualms were ignored. His sense of duty carries him all the way to the end and requires he tell his story to the narrator, no matter how embarrassing or ugly for himself.