“Moving Forward, Looking Back” NCGR Research Journal 2010
Reviewed by Joseph Crane
January, 2011
The most recent NCGR Research Journal brings together ten prominent
astrologers of traditional and contemporary orientations; six introduce
astrology from different historical eras and the remaining four address current
trends. The journal came out of a symposium that was part of an NCGR conference
in February 2009 in Cambridge, MA. The symposium was entitled Moving
Forward, Looking Back: Future Direction in Post-Modern Astrology. Chris
Brennan, who edited this issue, also wrote its introduction and afterward, and
helped organize the original conference. Brennan feels that astrology is at a
crossroads today and anticipates a future era of astrology, one which brings
together traditional and modern approaches into a discipline with a solid
foundation but also flexible in light of future possibilities and challenges.
These articles display many areas of influence in astrology’s world as well as
some large disagreements among astrologers. Although these ten writers are not
all on the same page, their differences point to important questions for
astrologers to consider. This is the intent of this review.
Anybody who reads this journal already comes to it with his or her own ideas
about astrology and will respond to some of them positively, some negatively.
Even though the quality of these essays varies, together they may help you
clarify some important issues about the nature of astrology and criteria for
best practices. Even unsuccessful essays can raise important issues.
I’m particularly interested in how we determine a previous astrological
tradition, how we ascertain validity for astrology’s features and specific
techniques, how astrologers think of freedom and free will, how we sort
extra-planetary bodies and arrive at their meanings, and basic issues of human
freedom and astrologically depicting inner and outer human life. Because there
is so much conceptual territory covered in this journal, my presentation is
closer to a “critique” or “reaction” than a standard book
review.
I come to these articles as a consulting astrologer who began working with
traditional astrology about fifteen years ago from a background teaching and
practicing modern astrology.
Most of these ten essays begin with a historical introduction and present their
distinct techniques and their “philosophy” – the concepts from the
broader culture that influenced concept and application of astrology. Most
articles end with a discussion of future possibilities. All but one article
contains endnotes with references.
This volume would have been more complete with the addition of a few articles.
I would have liked to see an article on the Egyptian contribution to astrology,
the trend toward astrological magic in the Renaissance, and developments in
spiritual astrology from the past century.
The first article, on Mesopotamian astrology, is by Rob Hand. This is an
unexpected contribution, since the author is most recently a medieval
historian. Hand’s article is clear and informative as we have come to expect
from him. He also practices a scholar’s parsimony, refraining from drawing
conclusions without adequate justification from facts and corroborating
scholarship. Hand summarizes the general history of the times as they relate to
the origins of Western astrology. He shows that much of our astrology, including
a proto-tropical zodiac, the planetary deities, divisions and groupings of the
signs, and declination, have Mesopotamian origins. He also gives an example of
an individual delineation that contains planets’ positions and purported
outcomes in life.
What was the purpose of astrology in Mesopotamian culture, what was the purpose
of astrology, and what was the role of the astrologer? It was not to tell a
determined future but to help negotiate the outcome with the gods through
ritual. At astrology’s beginnings the stars and planets were not causes but
cosmic language, and astrology was part of an ongoing interaction between the
human and the divine.
Next Chris Brennan introduces Hellenistic astrology. His article
contains an interesting list of astrological techniques that the Hellenistic
tradition inherited and what was developed by the tradition. Toward the end of
his article he focuses on this tradition’s tendency toward outer events in life
within a Stoic justification of necessity.
There are a few omissions that I feel detract from his article. I regret the
lack of information about the important contributors to the Hellenistic
tradition. Brennan mentions many astrologers from the Hellenistic time from
which we have writings, but only in endnotes. I would have liked to have read
more about the Hellenistic origins of modern vocational and relationship
astrology and the astrology of personality. The omission of available primary
sources plus the lack of a bibliography may hinder an interested reader from
learning more about the Hellenistic tradition.
Brennan devotes much of his article on the origins and course of Hellenistic
astrology. I would like to consider this matter more fully, for it raises some
important general concerns.
Did ancient western astrology begin gradually from many sources or did this
tradition come to us fully formed from one or a few individuals? Some assert
that Hellenistic astrology appeared suddenly from a single source and
maintained consistency through many centuries; others consider astrology as
having developed more gradually. Considering the scarcity of historical records
about that era’s astrology, an assertion about astrology’s sudden emergence
seems more speculative than factual. As we know from the Corpus Hermeticum that
was so highly valued in the Renaissance, neither attribution to the wise ones
(plural) of the past nor a foundational Urtext supports a single origin
of a tradition.
How do new kinds of astrology develop? In an article later in this journal, Gary
Christen presents the origins of Uranian Astrology. This may serve as an
example of how a new school of astrology could begin within a small group:
although acknowledged to be founded by one individual, its development occurred
over decades and included many variations.
At this time, especially if modern astrologers like Gary Christen or
researchers like Ken Irving were reading this, they might be thinking, who
cares about origins? Are not modern criteria of validity far more important
than the historical record of a tradition? Yet for astrologers who work with
material from the ancient and medieval worlds, it is necessary to have
historical precedent for the astrology they apply. This is standard for the
practice of traditional astrology. As many modern astrologers don’t trust
naively relying on precedent, traditional astrologers don’t trust the modern
tendency to improvise.
Traditional astrology’s criteria of historical accuracy carry a hidden risk,
especially if records of the tradition are incomplete. There may be is a
tendency to focus on the original formulation or its most complete expression
as the most real and most wise. This implies that variations and further
developments are secondary and even deviant. I do not want future historians of
our contemporary astrology to consider Reinhold Ebertin the “original
tradition” and Liz Green “deviant”, or the other way around.
Brennan cites a systematic nature of Hellenistic astrology. In my view there is
indeed an orderly relationship between signs and house position (in whole sign
houses), domicile rulership and triplicity, lots, aspects between signs, yearly
profections and some planetary period systems. I also see areas of substantial
difference from the beginning and over time.
How does astrology change – are changes progressive as we may see in science
or, like cultural and intellectual developments, are there fluctuations that
can go back and forth? There are different trends within the six hundred years
of Hellenistic astrology. Some reflect the overwhelming influence of Ptolemy
from the second century and a division between a divinatory and a natural
astrology, what Ken Irving calls “mantic” and “metric”
dimensions of astrology. There were fundamental disagreements among
astrologers, at least theoretical astrologers, about the nature of their art –
just as in modern times.
Another question arises from Brennan’s article. Would a modern astrologer apply
Hellenistic (or medieval) techniques as its astrological literature reads or
use them in a more modern setting? In my view, the Hellenistic and medieval
traditions were flexible enough to address all dimensions of human experience,
not simply outer events.
The NCGR Research Journal follows with an introduction to Indian
Astrology by Ronnie Gale Dreyer. Her depictions of the origins of the
Indian tradition are based on what scholarship is available on the subject.
From what we already know, there had been an astrological tradition in India
that incorporated lunar mansions, and to this there were added many later
contributions from Hellenistic astrology. This occurred in the centuries after
Alexander’s conquest of neighboring regions. Dreyer notes that much is unclear
about the transmission of astrology to India from the west and what we have
exists in many variations.
Dreyer’s depiction of the philosophical and religious connections to astrology
was the most interesting part of her article. The horoscope, she states, can
show the status of a person’s spiritual development along the lines of three
kinds of karma: that from previous lifetimes, from the habitual patterns of
this lifetime, and future conditions based on our insights of this lifetime.
This strikingly corresponds to various depictions of “fate” from the
ancient world and presages modern contributions by Alice Bailey and others. I
would like to know much more about this, especially how they may relate to
different features of a horoscope. Fortunately, Dreyer gives sources for these
important ideas.
I was struck by Dreyer’s depiction of the role of the astrologer in traditional
Indian astrology. As with modern western astrology, timing for life events is
important, as are specific ways to work with problems in life that are called
“remedies.” Yet the purpose of all this is for us to be less
distracted by our personal issues “and more dedicated to acts that are
driven by faith and compassion” (p. 27). In the context of this
astrological tradition, human freedom consists of working directly with your
life by applying remedies for difficulties, and to learn how to live a happier
and more virtuous life.
Benjamin Dykes’ introduction to Medieval Astrology follows. Like Hand
and Dreyer, Dykes also demonstrates a scholar’s parsimony; he presents a broad
outline of the development of medieval astrology from what we call the Middle
East to medieval Europe. I would have liked more information about the factors
that contributed to the transmission of astrology to Europe. This article’s
bibliography indicates that Dykes has translated many works that were part of
this transmission; his work will surely contribute to our understanding over
time.
Dykes lists important contributions of the medieval era that include a
fully-formed horary, mundane, and medical astrology, several quadrant house
systems and the development of the almuten or combined planetary lord of a
position or several positions. He attempts to uncover the origins of the point
system for essential dignities that is found in much astrological software. It
might be useful for today’s traditional astrologers to assume this doctrine
less and scrutinize it more.
Dykes raises some conceptual issues that have been and are important in how
astrologers understand their work. He gives an account of different
philosophical schools and their ideas, beginning with the
Ptolemaic/Aristotelian depiction of stellar and planetary causation. I feel
this is a rather complex matter. Until the time of Kepler and Newton it was
assumed that the heavens obeyed a different (and more perfect) set of principles
than our elemental life down here. Throughout late antiquity and the medieval
era, efficient causation was blended in different ways with the more Platonic
metaphysical and hierarchical view of the universe. Issues of astrological
“causation” are very much alive for astrologers today and modern
astrology contains many Neoplatonic and Aristotelian strands.
This brings me to Dykes’ assertion that Christianity’s primary influence was
its doctrine of “an indeterminate free will” (p. 37). It seems that
he is right. However, a major difficulty is that it was not clear in medieval
or in modern times what we is meant by “freedom” and by “free
will” and its relationship with influences of stars and planets.
The theoretical medieval approach, best known from Thomas Aquinas, was to
acknowledge that the stars and planets cause physical effects on earth,
including our bodies and our lower natures, but not our “higher”
intellectual soul that is inherently free. This presupposes the ancient concept
of personal freedom.
In the ancient world freedom was defined as our capacity to adopt attitudes and
activity based on intellect and right perspective, to control our bodily
impulses and emotions. This may also include our ability to cooperate with
God’s will or the divine order of the universe or our “cosmic
blueprint” as shown by our astrological chart. This kind of freedom can be
enhanced through developing positive habits of activity and mind. When we
choose differently the result is that we are unhappy and unfulfilled.
The Judeo-Christian concept of “free will” is different: for it is
our ability to decide and be responsible for our moral decisions, to freely
choose good or evil, happiness or misery. This is an inherent quality of human
beings who are not mentally incapacitated. This kind of “indeterminate
free will” was emphasized later in the medieval tradition and has long
legs in the history of modern philosophy and literature, ranging from Kantian
rationalism to Kierkegaard’s psychologized theology to postwar existentialism,
but is generally outside the realm of astrological delineation, psychological
or otherwise. This reflects in modern astrology’s assertion that we can choose
different ways to manifest our natures as shown by the astrological chart; to
use modern theosophical language, the chart itself does not tell how
“evolved” one is. That part is up to us.
J. Lee Lehman, whose article follows Dykes and is concerned with the
later medieval tradition, notes that astrologers tended to give the concept of
free will lip service while ignoring it in practice. This seems also true of
most modern practicing astrologers, for whom this is a non-issue.
J. Lee Lehman’s introduction to Late Traditional Astrology spans the early
fourteenth century to the late seventeenth. Her article attends to medical
astrology and its conceptual system, and discusses historical developments
(e.g., the invention of the printing press, the establishment of universities
to teach medicine, political upheavals in the 17th century) that impacted
astrological practice.
Lehman notes intersections between astrology and culture and addresses some
issues that others do not address. I am particularly intrigued by a
circumstance that periodically afflicts astrology that I call “the
seduction of respectability”. By becoming allied with a more mainstream
discipline, astrology temporarily attains a new popularity, one that lasts just
as long as the discipline it has become allied with. Lehman’s example is the
medical practice of the late medieval era that gave once astrology great
influence. Yet when modern medical theory began to replace that of the previous
era astrology was left an orphan. Although many kings and princes had their own
astrologers, in the 17th century astrology was allied with political reform
movements. When those reform movements ended, astrology was orphaned again.
May we also see this within today’s astrology? Everybody knows that the
psychological work of C.G. Jung has been enormously influential to some modern
astrology, yet Jungian studies and psychotherapy itself have declined over the
last twenty years. One may say the same for the “New Age” movement
that astrology has been allied with these days. In the future astrology may
find itself in alliance with something completely different and attain new
respectability – for some time.
Lehman, a veteran of American astrology’s culture wars of the past few decades,
gives us a rousing defense of using traditional astrology in modern times. To
think that our concerns as humans have outgrown of the same interests from the
past – to think we have “evolved in ways that make old forms of knowledge
obsolete is merely a blind form of egotism” (p. 47). She concludes by
waving the flag of traditional astrology, asserting that it “illuminates how
people have succeeded, time and again, in finding creative solutions to their
problems” (p. 47).” And all this was without the outer planets.
The journal follows with “Twentieth Century Astrology” by Keiron
Le Grice, athough the original talk from the NCGR conference was given by
Richard Tarnas. From time to time every traditional astrologer has had to
counter charges that traditional astrology is inherently fatalistic,
closed-minded, and basically un-evolved. In the first paragraph Le Grice
writes, “Previously astrology’s language was somewhat antiquated,
fatalistic and moralistic in tone, it gave the sense of destiny that was set in
stone, with personality descriptions more befitting the Victorian era” (p.
49). Bravely I continued. I discovered that Le Grice’s article describes not
“Twentieth Century Astrology” but something more like “Astrology
from Marin County to Palo Alto” and thereby misses much.
Le Grice mentions some important technical contributions from modern
psychological astrology: Sabian symbols developed by Jones and Rudhyar, a
reformulation of astrology’s symbols into phases of cycles, developed by
Rudhyar. I would have included aspect configurations, chart patterns, and the
“12-letter alphabet.” Le Grice is right about the important contributions
by Stephen Arroyo, although it seems that Arroyo’s enduring legacy is his
psychological application of the four elements to the astrological chart. Many
astrologers do not know how recent all these developments have been.
Le Grice is somewhat misleading in his section on astrology’s technical
advances. Because he focuses on psychological astrology and the theory of
astrological archetypes, he does not acknowledge different agendas for some
technical advances. He invokes Ebertin’s Combinations of Stellar Influences and
Working with Astrology by Harvey and Harding, ignoring the fact that both
works show astrology’s usefulness in interpreting outer circumstances and may
even have features one might call “fatalistic”. I will say the same
for astrology’s use of the modern planets Uranus, Neptune, and Pluto; most
contemporary astrologers comfortably use these planets in a variety of settings
that differ from an exclusively psychological approach. Le Grice does not
mention important work in the 20th century by western siderealists, by
proponents of heliocentric astrology, and on eclipses and declination. Indeed,
the twentieth century has added much wealth to astrology.
Le Grice addresses one important concern about psychological astrology: does
its emphasis on inner experience inadvertently perpetuate the same Cartesian
dualism it prefers to move beyond? Le Grice rightly cites this as
“intrapsychic reductionism”: if you use astrological symbolism solely
to describe inner dynamics, this can isolate the person from the outer world
and even his or her own body.
For a solution, Le Grice lauds Richard Tarnas’ Cosmos and Psyche (2006).
Tarnas advocates using astrological archetypes to allow astrology’s symbolism
to be multivalent and flexible. (I prefer Dennis Elwell’s The Cosmic Loom
(1987) that has the added advantages of having stood a longer test of time and
being far shorter.) Taking a point from Elwell, the universe need not speak the
language of differences between inner experience and outer world, nor need our
astrology. As in the areas of freedom and free will, most practicing
astrologers tend to get this one right.
Kenneth Irving’s following article “Science and Astrology”
gives us something completely different: the future of astrology lies not in
recovering the past but applying modern scientific criteria to validate
astrology’s methods, eventually utilizing only those that can be shown to work.
If this results in throwing out the bathwater of houses and signs and idealized
circles, astrology will then have a firmer foundation and be more acceptable to
modern culture.
I found Irving’s article challenging, since I, like many practicing
astrologers, do not spend much energy on matters of scientific validation.
However, reading his article is timely because of recent studies correlating
between season of birth and personality in life. How might we understand this
kind of research?
In his first paragraph Irving makes an interesting distinction between
astrology’s “mantic” and “metric” layers. The “mantic”
layer is the unobservable realities of the tropical zodiac, houses, rulerships,
and most things practicing astrologers rely upon. Statistical studies seem not
to validate this layer. The “metric” or “measurable” layer
is the celestial sphere and the planets as physical observable entities. The
Gauquelin findings fall under a metric dimension. Recent research on season of
birth and personality also confines itself to the metric layer. Irving’s
purpose is to find and promote proven connections between celestial conditions
and human characteristics that occur without recourse to the interpretative
dimension provided by the astrologer.
Irving persuasively argues that valid scientific research has great potential
to contribute to a workable astrology in the future, as the Gauquelin studies
and other studies have done already. Taking traditional methods “as
revealed truth in the face of challenging evidence is like treading water in a
shifting sea” (p. 62). To the criticism that this cannot result in a workable
astrology, Irving feels that openness to new creative possibilities will bear
fruit – if you “think outside the circles (i.e., the zodiac and
houses)”.
Possibly. Irving’s discussion brings up a fundamental question about the nature
of astrology – is it a “geocosmic science”, or interpretative art, or
is it both? If astrology is a geocosmic science, will better software replace
even the best of astrologers like the computer “Deep Blue” now
defeats the world’s greatest chess players? On the other hand, if astrology is
primarily an interpretative art, what must “reality” be like in order
to render the astrologer’s interpretations accurate?
Next is Gary Christen’s introduction to Uranian Astrology. After going
through a history of Uranian astrology’s development, he discusses its many
technical contributions to astrology. Its various uses of symmetry have roots
in many of astrology’s traditions and appeal to the orderly arithmetical mind;
unfortunately, Christen’s description of sums and differences on p. 66 is
comprehensible only to the initiate. Those familiar with Ebertin’s Combination
of Cosmic Influences will appreciate Christen’s depictions of the six
personal sensitive points, although he seems a bit touchy in his defense of the
Transneptunian Planets or TNP’s.
Although Dane Rudhyar famously conceived astrology to be an “algebra of
life”, Uranian astrology really looks like algebra – and acts like
physics. The modern mind has a good intuitive understanding of this kind of
thinking: those of us who have taught predictive astrology know how easily
people understand and use transits and solar arc directions but they wince at
secondary progressed charts and solar returns, to say nothing of ancient
planetary period systems. Christen is right to say that the Uranian approach
approximates some features of modern thinking, although I disagree that our
minds have somehow evolved into it. My attempts to learn more about the Uranian
approach are thwarted, since Christen gives neither bibliography nor endnotes
to his article.
Next is an article by Frank Clifford on data collection. For most of
astrology’s history we have not had reliable birth records. After great neglect
in the past, only in the past few centuries have countries issued standardized
birth certificates with birth times on them. Decades ago the Gauquelins
collected many of these timed charts for his research.
The patron saint of the data collection movement was Lois Rodden: with great
effort over time, she eventually prevailed on most of the astrological
community to account for sources of birth information in a standardized manner.
Her own collections of charts helped bring about Astrodatabank and other
important sources of natal information for astrologers.
Consequently, our modern era better accounts for its charts, and this has made
our astrological work more confident and fruitful. Clifford stresses the
necessity of accurate natal charts for purposes of statistical research but I
have a more immediate concern: without being confident in a chart’s reliability
the quality of my interpretative work diminishes.
The journal closes with an interesting article by Demetra George on
asteroids and mythology. At first glance these two issues seem unconnected but
both raise important questions about astrology in the modern era.
- How do we admit newly discovered heavenly bodies into astrology? Beginning in 1781 we discovered Uranus, then some asteroids, then Neptune and Pluto, finally hundreds of bodies in the asteroid belt, Chiron and other “centaurs,” and other bodies outside Pluto’s orbit large enough to cause tiny Pluto to be decertified as a planet by them. Daily we are finding other planets that orbit nearby stars. How does contemporary astrology deal with this new mass of astronomical information? If there is a limit to inclusion, what is it?
- The visible planets were once named for Mesopotamian deities and later those names were translated into those of Roman deities. Before that, Greeks and other cultures named constellations from their own mythologies. Beginning with the discovery of outer planets and then asteroids, astrologers connected their names with motifs in ancient myth to help derive astrological significance for them. Are there criteria for appropriate or inappropriate connections to mythical motif? Do we confine ourselves to the myths of some cultures and not others? And, ultimately, what’s in an object’s name that gives it a mythic dimension?
One difficulty I had with George’s presentation is that she
never defines exactly what she means by “myth”. The word itself means
“story”, yet her historical account seems to merge stories of ancient
deities (and others) for whom there is a literary account and the abstract
divine Beings we see in ancient Platonism and medieval Christianity. One may
also argue that mythical motifs may show up in literature but not in a
culture’s religious practices – should this make a difference? Her lack of
specificity about myth made her essay confusing to me.
If, as George says, the discovery of a new heavenly body stirs a new center of
mass consciousness, then its knowledge can be awakened more fully through an
investigation of the myth associated with the name of the new body discovered
(p. 84). This presupposes, for example, that the discoveries of Uranus,
Neptune, and Pluto corresponded with major changes of planetary consciousness.
Many astrologers take this as a matter of faith, but I am no longer so sure. As
a group we tend to cherry-pick our history.
In our Jungian age we interpret ancient myths in the light of modern concerns
but usually not from the perspective of the cultures that gave rise to them,
although that kind of scholarship is increasingly available to us. Is this a
problem or not? Are we being carelessly anachronistic or are we uncovering
universal motifs of our common humanity?
Although she clearly has her mind made up and I have not, Demetra George’ essay
brings up some important issues about heavenly bodies and myth and this helps
make her article a very interesting read.
In conclusion, these essays from the NCGR Research Journal 2010 have
provoked a number of responses in this reviewer as they will to whoever reads
this journal. Unlike the standard of our Internet age where people tend only to
read what they think they will agree with, I recommend that you read all
its articles. Some will inspire, others will irritate and one or two may even
infuriate. There are some fundamental disagreements among some very smart and
influential astrologers and though they opened up some areas of fundamental
disagreement, I also found myself provoked by these ten articles and I have
learned a lot from them. If they raise important questions for you, as they
have with me, this is a very good thing.