7 Fictional Characters That You’ll Relate To If You’re An INFJ

What fictional characters do you relate to as an INFJ?

Just as we can describe real people using the Myers-Briggs® typology system, we can also type well-written fictional characters. Some of fiction’s most iconic and intriguing characters are INFJs and today we’re going to talk about seven that I think real-life INFJs will find relatable.

One great thing about looking at character personality types is that it helps us better understand people who have different types than we do. Fictional INFJs can serve as examples for what real-life INFJs might be like, and also show how much variation can exist between individuals with the same type.

The things that makes INFJs such great fictional characters are some of the same things that make them such interesting people. Though the rarest personality type on the planet, INFJs are fairly common in fiction. They’re thoughtful, introspective characters with a unique way of looking at the world and a keen interest in other people.

Alyosha Karamazov

It’s fascinating to read the narrator of Fyodor Dostoevsky’s The Brothers Karamazov discuss the story’s hero Alexi Karamazov (more often called by his nickname Alyosha/Alesha). He spends most of the introduction apologizing for presenting readers with such an unusual hero. “He is by no means a great man,” the narrator explains, but he is doubtless “a strange man, even an odd one.” He was strange “from the cradle,” growing up a quiet child preoccupied by something inside him while at the same time loving people. I’m sure many INFJs can relate to that in their own childhoods — liking other people but being too preoccupied by their inner worlds to be considered sociable.

As the story progresses, we see Alyosha dreads conflict with a loathing that I think all INFJs (and the other FJ types as well) can relate to. We see him weeping when others are hurt, displaying the empathy that’s so much a part of real-life INFJs. We see him make social blunders in an effort to make everyone happy and at peace, all with an INFJ’s insistence on working toward harmony in all situations. Like so many INFJs, he’s sensitive, emotional, indecisive on certain things (though quite decisive in others), and isn’t afraid to appear weak so long as he’s being true to his beliefs. Read more

The Curious Case of the INFJ Hero

Today we’re going to talk about INFJ heroes in fiction, especially male heroes. But before we get to that, let’s talk about Russian literature for a moment. The Brothers Karamazov by Fyodor Dostoevsky opens with an apologetic explanation from the narrator about his hero, Alexei Fyodorovich Karamazov. Here are a few highlights:

“While I do call Alexei Fyodorovich my hero, still, I myself know that he is by no means a great man …

One thing, perhaps, is rather doubtless: he is a strange man, even an odd one. But strangeness and oddity will sooner harm than justify any claim to attention …

If I, that is, the biographer himself, think that even one novel may, perhaps, be unwarranted for such a humble and indefinite hero, then how will it look if I appear with two; and what can explain such presumption on my part?”

p.3-4, Pevear/Volokhonsky translation

As you may have guessed from the title of this post, Alyosha is an INFJ (most characters and the narrator use this nickname throughout the novel. In the Cyrillic alphabet, Alyosha is two letters shorter than Alexei, which makes this something like calling a man named Robert “Bob”). And I suspect that it’s his personality type that makes the narrator so worried about how people will respond to his hero.

It’s not that there aren’t other INFJ heroes in fiction. Just take a look at my post about 10 Stories You’ll Relate To If You’re An INFJ if you want some examples. Jane Eyre, Amélie, Yoda, and Atticus Finch are all INFJs in fiction who play a hero role. But even though there are male characters on this list, I’m going to go out on a limb here and say that if Alyosha was a woman with all the same personality characteristics the narrator wouldn’t have felt the need to apologize for her.

FJ-type men

A large percentage of women in real-life are FJ types. There’s a much smaller percentage of FJ-type men. ENFJ and INFJ men are particularly rare, each only making up 1% to 3% of the population. Because of this many FJ qualities are stereotyped as “feminine” (even though they really shouldn’t be exclusive to one sex) and FJ guys don’t always fit with society’s idea of how men “should” act.

I’ve talked with several ENFJ and a few INFJ men about this issue, and I know it comes up for ESFJs and ISFJs as well (though to a lesser extent, since Sensing types make up about 70% of the population and they tend to “fit in” better). Because FJ types interact with the world using a function called Extroverted Feeling, they tend to show up as more relational and emotional than Western culture typically considers “manly.”

In her TED talk “Listening to Shame” Brené Brown talks about how shame is “organized by gender.” For men, shame is tied up in one expectation: “do not be perceived as weak.” She talks about one man who told her, “when we reach out and be vulnerable we get the shit beat out of us.” But that’s exactly what FJ types are hardwired to do — to reach out and connect with people in a vulnerable, empathic way.

FJ types are deeply relational people who seek to create harmony in human relationships. I know it takes incredible strength to make peace instead of sow discord, but society at large doesn’t see it like that. If you’re a woman you might get away with preferring harmony to conflict, but it’s perceived as weakness in men if they choose peace instead of standing up for themselves.

"Thinking" Women and "Feeling" Men | marissabaker.wordpress.com
Photo credits: USEPA Environmental-Protection-Agency and Camp Pinewood, via Flickr

He was “already very strange”

Let’s go back to Alyosha. The narrator takes considerable time to introducing his character in chapter 4 and his backstory reads like a textbook example of an INFJ. As the rarest personality type, INFJs often seem strange or out of place compared to the people around them and Alyosha (who enters a monastery early in the book) is no exception.

Alyosha, was not at all a fanatic, and, in my view at least, even not at all a mystic. I will give my full opinion before hand: he was simply an early lover of mankind. … However, I do not deny that he was, at that time, already very strange, having been so even from the cradle. …

In his childhood and youth he was not very effusive, not even very talkative, not from mistrust, not from shyness or sullen unsociability, but even quite the contrary, from something different, from some inner preoccupation … But he did love people; he lived all his life, it seemed, with complete faith in people, and yet not one ever considered him either naive or a simpleton.

p. 18, 19

Though I don’t particularly like the phrase, INFJs are often described as “old souls” because they tend to have a different perspective on the world than other people their age. Indeed, Alyosha is only 19 when the novel starts out and already people much older than him seek him for advice. Even his father, a self-described buffoon who doesn’t respect anyone, treats Alyosha well. In fact, it seems almost impossible to dislike Alyosha. He was never bullied by peers for being weird (something many real-life INFJs will, I’m sure, envy) and the few people who resent or dislike him as an adult are clearly an exception to the rule. They see him almost as other-worldly and above the common concerns, vices, and pitfalls of humanity as a whole (a description which reminds me of how Rochester sees Jane Eyre, another fictional INFJ).

from The Brothers Karamazov (1958) with William Shatner as Alyosha

A sensitive hero

Perhaps some of my readers will think that my young man was a sickly, ecstatic, poorly developed person, a pale dreamer, a meager, emaciated little fellow. On the contrary, Alyosha was at that time a well-built, red-cheeked nineteen-year-old youth, clear-eyed and bursting with health. He was at that time even quite handsome … it seems to me that at that time Alyosha was even more of a realist than the rest of us … to say that he was slow or stupid would be a great injustice

p. 25-26

It’s a sad fact that humans tend to think in stereotypes, but the narrator for The Brothers Karamazov is having none of that. After spending a whole chapter convincing us that Alyosha is a strange young man devoted to a faith that makes little sense to those around him, he next makes sure that readers won’t assume Alyosha is “unmanly” in appearance or in any way intellectually deficient.

This is an important point to make because Alyosha is going to continually defy the idea that a male hero has to be decisive, unemotional, or never weak. We see Alyosha dreading conflict with a loathing that I think all INFJs (and the other FJ types as well) can relate to. We see him weeping when others are hurting. We see him making social blunders in an effort to make everyone happy and at peace. We see him struggling to define his own ideas of a situation because he would like to accept what others say as true, but realizes that’s not always a good idea. He’s sensitive, emotional, undecisive on certain things (though quite decisive in others), and isn’t afraid to appear weak so long as he’s being true to his beliefs.

Why we need FJ men in fiction

The Curious Case of the INFJ Hero | LikeAnAnchor.com
Photo credit: Marisa_Sias via Pixabay

INFJs often seem like a (barely) functioning bundle of contradictions. We’re conflict-avoidant, but will stand up passionately to defend someone we love or a belief that’s very dear to us. We can be among the most intellectual of the types, but also demonstrate spectacular naivete in certain areas. We want to build deep relationships, but we’re scared to peel back all the layers that would let you to get to who we really are.

When cast as fictional heroes, the contradictions can all show up in ways that might make an author feel the need to justify why such an odd creature should be given the main character role. I’m glad that they are, though. The ISTP action hero or charismatic ENTP genius can be wonderful characters, but if their stories are the only ones we tell then we’re missing something.

I think it’s especially important that we tell stories of thinking-type women and feeling-type men. A lot of traits that we assume are gender-based are actually associated more with Thinking and Feeling in personality types (though not all — I do believe God created men and women with some innate differences in how we bear His image). I don’t want to go into too much detail on this here, since I have a whole post on “Thinking” type women and “Feeling type men, but in many cases cultural expectations of gender cause more stress for women with a “T” and men with an “F” in their Myers-Briggs type.

One of the things that can help with this is seeing possessive portrayals of people with your type in fictional stories. That’s why it’s sad that there are so few Thinking-type Disney princesses. For male characters, we need nurturing, supportive ESFJs and ISFJs like Leonard McCoy and Samwise Gamgee (and more which you can read about in “7 Fictional Characters You’ll Relate To If You’re An ISFJ“). We need ENFJs who are mentors and leaders like Mufasa in The Lion King, and also ones like Neil in Dead Poet Society who force us to question the practice of shaming people for having a personality that doesn’t perfectly fit what society wants. And we need INFJ men like Alyosha Karamazov and Atticus Finch who prove you can be a hero by sticking to your convictions and fighting on behalf of the people around you.

Classics Club: Anna Karenina

At 817 pages, Anna Karenina by Leo Tolstoy is the most daunting book I’ve yet read for The Classics Club. I chose the translation by husband-and-wife-team Richard Pevear and Larissa Volokhonsky. Their work translating Russian literature is highly acclaimed, and I liked the idea of a native Russian speaker and a native English speaker working so closely together on the translation. I found their Anna Karenina very readable.

It took me quite a while to read Anna Karenina, but I did enjoy it. The book was just so large it was hard to take everywhere, and I finished several thinner books for more portable reading. I think ‘intermittently’ was probably the best way for me to read Tolstoy. Usually I would read whole Parts in a chunk, but when it switched between different character arcs (and there were several), I needed a short break.

The main reason I was excited to read Anna Karenina was because my creative writing professor always talked about Russian writers as examples of superb character building. In this regard, Tolstoy did not disappoint. My sister, who’s reading War and Peace, said she noticed the same thing. The characters, especially his male characters, are nuanced people with depth of personality. I particularly enjoyed Levin and his story.

Three couples are at the centers of the novels main plots: Stepan and Dolly Oblonsky (Anna’s brother and sister-in-law), Kostya and Kitty Levin (Kitty is Dolly’s sister), and Anna Karenina with Alexei Karenin (her husband) or Alexei Vronsky (her lover). I know why Tolstoy chose Anna Karenina’s name as the title — she’s the only character which connects and influences all the others — but I was a little surprised not to see her play a more prominent (or at least more active) role in all the main plots.

Anna makes one decision — to enter an adulterous relationship with Vronsky — and then everything else just sort of happens. Her affair takes Vronsky out of Kitty’s life, which leads to Kitty’s very wise decision to marry Levin, but that’s the only affect Anna has on that plot line. Her main influence in the Oblonsky family storyline takes place at the beginning of the novel, before she even meets Vronsky. As relatives they cross paths throughout the book, but don’t influence each other much. For all the talk about her strong personality, Anna may be least active main character I’ve read. She takes the easiest road from the moment she throws her life in with Vronsky. She tells her husband only when she can’t bear not to. She won’t accept Karenin’s forgiveness because the self-awareness, growth and repentance necessary is too daunting. She doesn’t accept a divorce because it seems like such a final step that would separate her from her son. She refuses to take an interest in her daughter. She throws herself under a train because she can’t stop sabotaging the one relationship she has left, with Vronsky.

Here we get back to my caveat about Tolstoy’s really great characters mostly being male. I liked Kitty, I sympathized with Dolly, I partly understood Anna, but I didn’t empathize with them and they didn’t always feel real. Or maybe they were realistic, but I just didn’t like Anna and Dolly much? I’m not sure.

Plot wise, it did seem odd to me that the book continued so long after the title character’s death. These last chapters did tells you the main things that happened to Anna’s Alexies after her death, but didn’t follow them closely. Instead, it switched to wrapping up Levin’s subplot of spiritual awakening, which had absolutely nothing to do with Anna. Ending on that note made me wonder if the main point Tolstoy wanted his readers to take away wasn’t the tragedy of Anna’s unhappy families, but the beauty of Levin’s spiritual quest. Levin is also tempted by suicide, but he doesn’t take that route, and instead finds hope in his newly re-awakened faith in God that sits apart from any organized religion. Perhaps Tolstoy hoped his readers would progress on a path of faith, hope and happiness as well.


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