Why the sudden interest in people going about their business or congregating in public places? Because I learned a new word whilst I was in Highsmith Country, Suffolk to be exact, which I hadn't heard or seen before: Ochlophobe. But before I explain that, I should mention it's not a Suffolk term nor is it Highsmithian, and that's Patricia Highsmith, the novelist and crime writer, whose country I was revisiting at the time. No, it's a recognised fear, which of course Highsmith specialises in, of mob-like crowds. And I got to wondering, after a day spent at home, if I had it. Or at the very least some shadow of that fear.
Is there a range? I'll assume there is because I don't know anybody expert enough to ask, not that I want to denigrate what is for somebody else a real concern. It's just sometimes after a whole day at home, it's harder to go out the following, but I don't think that's ochlophobe territory though the push to confront it is probably similar. There have been moments where I've been dressed and ready and at the door when I've thought: do I really want to? do I really need to? can it wait, be put off to the next?, and if the answer to the last is: it can, then occasionally I've given in. Whilst other times I've shaken it off, telling myself: C'mon on feet, which those in the know will recognise as a Labyrinth line. Google it – the late David Bowie was fantastic – as I can't afford the detour in this semi-serious autobiographical piece.
So, on those days when I stop in what is it that, ahem, stops me? I suddenly realise I'm not in the mood to be around Joe Public and it's a mood that will vanish, as others do, if I force myself out. Whereas the passing-through mood is like a scudding cloud i.e. by the time I'm out in the open it will have gone. Of course, there are days when you don't have that luxury, where you just have to cross your fingers and hope for the best.
Mood aside, I generally prefer to avoid crowds, but then I think that preference depends on your definition of mob: how large they are in number and if, for example, they're well mannered, rather than boisterous or braying. For a true ochlophobist, my guess is that wouldn't matter, the same symptoms of fear would arise. For me however, some situations are cope-able and some decidedly not, and then there are those you're unsure of and have to try. And keep trying, if only to raise the bar a little.
I hate feeling crammed in, squeezed or squashed. Of being pressed up against somebody, of having someone pressed up against me. The two scenarios aren't the same: the first can't be helped for there's hardly any breathing room, let alone a space for a body, and the second, when you're not the presser, feels like a deliberate invasion. Your instinct is to fidget and find a pocket but you can't, and so you reverse that attitude: go rigid and hold everything in. Does anybody find that enjoyable? Well, the perverse might do...those who like commutes, sporting events, sales or ticketing queues , and protest marches (you thought I meant something else, didn't you?) and yet, I don't really think that's an ochlophobist complaint, at least not in the manner I've described it: as dislikeable but not panicked like any animal caught or caged.
The eyes have it, that fear of bodies if escape is impossible and the feet can't break into a quick walk or run, though a sweat might come with the heart pulsating, fooled by twitching muscles.
Picture credit:The Umbrellas, Pierre Auguste Renoir
