New writing by John Frawley

September 8, 2009

Quick one: John Frawley has been publishing extracts from his new book on his Facebook fan page. Fixed stars, and very compelling stuff it is. Have a look.

Snippets and paraphrases, parked here mostly for my own reference as I study Ben Dykes’ translation of Bonatti’s Book of Astronomy.

#16 – Bonatti refers to Sahl: “after the malefic planet were to transit the planet whom it was impeding, by one full degree, the planet is said to be freed from the malefic. But to me it seems that after the malefic has transited him by 1 minute of arc, the planet may be said to be free, and to have escaped, because [the malefic] cannot introduce anything after that unless it is fear.” So: in a horary question, if there’s a conjunction or aspect to a key significator by a malefic AND it is just separating, even by as little as 1 minute of arc, it indicates fear, but not the failure of the endeavor.

#17 – Same thing in reverse for separating aspects from benefics. “After [the benefic] has transited [the significator] by 1 minute of arc, it is not perfected, nor does the matter send anything to him but hope…. And the hope which the benefic gives is such that the querent believes that the matter will be perfected for him.” Again: if the desired aspect by the benefic is separating, even by just a minute, at the time of the question, it brings hope but not help.

#9 – “The Moon is always to be put as a significatrix of every matter and every beginning, and every nativity;… And it is her virtue alone, and only her power, that even if the Lord of the Ascendant or another significator of some matter were impeded, indeed so that it could not do or perfect what it ought, and she were found to be strong, nevertheless the matter will be perfected.” So even when Lord 1 is weak, look to the Moon, and if she’s strong enough, what you ask about can still come to pass.

#64 – “Look to see whether the Moon is in Cancer, or in Taurus, or in Sagittarius, or in Pisces:… nor does voiding of course harm her in this case as much in those places as much  as in others, provided that she is not combust.” Note that these signs are dignities of Moon or Jupiter (or in one case, both).

#31 – “A corporal conjunction will prohibit an aspect, and cuts it off, but an aspect will neither prohibit nor cut off a corporal conjunction.” I just used this one the other day, but couldn’t remember where I’d seen it.

I’m studying natal astrology the traditional way. Part of my current homework involves comparing the birth chart of a celebrity of my choice with the most recent eclipse preceding his or her birth. So, with the members of U2 playing DJ on the radio in Chicago tonight, I thought I’d peek at Bono’s chart and the eclipse prior to his birth.

bono-eclipseJohn Frawley says the important points in the prenatal eclipse chart are the degree of the eclipse, the degree of the lord of the eclipse, and the angles in that location. So let’s peek.

Is Bono’s chart connected to the eclipse degree? Yes. The prenatal solar eclipse is at 6 Aries 38, conjunct Bono’s North Node at 23 Virgo 13 by antiscion.

With the eclipse in Aries, its ruler is Mars. Any connection? Yes again. Mars at 25 Aquarius 24 is pretty nearly conjunct Bono’s Moon at 2 Scorpio 56 by antiscion (Mars is also his Moon’s dispositor). That also makes it nearly opposite Bono’s Venus at 7 Taurus 37 by antiscion.

Mars in the eclipse chart shines down from the top of the chart, not literally from the midheaven, but in mundane square to the eclipse ASC/DESC, 21 Taurus/Scorpio 14.

Do the eclipse chart’s angles connect to Bono’s chart? Yes. Bono’s Sun at 19 Taurus 22 is parked right on the eclipse ascendant at 21 Taurus 14. Bono’s own ascendant at 22 Capricorn 47 is conjunct the eclipse midheaven at 21 Capricorn 05. Actually, if you stretch it a bit, the eclipse angles and Bono’s angles connect surprisingly closely – eclipse ASC/DESC to Bono’s IC/MC, eclipse MC/IC to Bono’s ASC/DESC.

So, yes, this is a notable chart: an individual who has been swept into bigger things as shown by the eclipse chart. We know that much because of the repeated connections between the two charts: eclipse and native. What to do with this? I’ll let you know as I learn more.

There are at least two charts I’d love to peek at, if I only had their birth times. One is Gordon Ramsay (8 November 1966, birth place cited by different sources as Johnstone or Elderslie or Glasgow, Scotland), the choleric chef/owner/personality behind some of the world’s top restaurants – and some of my favorite television programming. The choler is just blinding, from his ceaselessly competitive nature to his famously foul mouth and temper. And he works with fire! I would love to see where the perfectionist is in his chart, the relentless quality control, and how he has bubbled up to the top of the cooking pot. Sun/Venus closely conjunct in Scorpio are sextile Mars in Virgo, and are ruled by it; Moon looks to be in Virgo too. Hmm, could be!

Fascinating for entirely different reasons is Yusuf Islam, the former Cat Stevens (21 July 1948, London), internationally renowned musician who renounced popular music when he converted to Islam. I’d love to see that chart too, and how and where it rhymes with a life that, so far, has featured an early rise to fame, two near-death experiences, that renunciation of his fame and music, years of philanthropic work for peace, and a return to secular music thanks to his son’s influence. Venus, recently direct and still slow, opposes Jupiter in its rulership but retrograde; Sun in Cancer exalts that Jupiter.

Who’s on your  wish list?

After giving up studying birth charts many, many moons ago, I’m back in the saddle. Only this time, I’m starting from absolute ground level. And it is a challenge.

Ground level in my case meant starting with the assessment of temperament, that silk or burlap or boiled wool that is at the foundation of the person’s nature. That was the first lesson: studying the Ascendant, its ruling planet, the Moon, the Sun, and the Lord of the Geniture to determine whether the native is hot or cold, moist or dry, and to what degree. For each factor, you’re twiddling some imaginary dials – a little more hot, a little less moist – and then looking at the sum of what you’ve determined. Is this person a warrior, a farmer, a scribe, or a slave, or a combination of two of these?

The second lesson, which I finally turned in to my teacher this weekend after weeks of stalling, takes the process up a step, studying two factors called wit and manner. Wit, as you’d imagine, revolves around the person’s Mercury and Moon, but finding the significator of manner (or motive) requires going down William Lilly’s laundry-list of factors, scouring the chart to see if any planet meets the requirements. It’s fascinating stuff, but I’m not sure I’ve got a grasp of it yet. Thus the procrastination on getting my homework turned in.

I think what is making this challenging is that I can’t yet see the top of the mountain. We are at the foundations, the foothills, and I have no idea how high the climb is. Okay, I have temperament, manner, wit… what does that tell me, what can I do with it?

I won’t shift off the path. I know my guide knows what he’s doing. But it’s a very funny thing to learn anew all this stuff, and make connections I didn’t make before – such as, that Pisces Moon of mine is actually choleric, who would have thought?

So you’re a Libran, let’s say. (Hey, me too. Go equinox babies!) How come you’re not like all the other Librans on the planet? Sure, you’ve got all those other planets and the Moon and the ascendant coloring the picture, that’s true. But there’s an even deeper layer we need to study first, before we pile all your birth planets on top.

That deeper layer is temperament, the essential stuff you’re made of, the horizon note to every other melody and harmony you lay on top of it. As I’m learning in the natal astrology course I’m taking, there are four of these. And, how conveeeeeenient, I’m finding it easier to remember the four temperaments by thinking of… the Fantastic Four! (Yes, the comic book heroes.)

Choleric: this is the soldier or warrior type. All about action. Shoot first and ask questions later. Start building the bookshelf without reading the directions. My way or the highway. Fantastic Four mnemonic: Johnny Storm, the Human Torch.

Sanguine: the scholar or scribe type. The record-keeper, the analyst. Approaches everything from a purely mental standpoint. (As my teacher points out, that doesn’t necessarily mean the mind is sound; only that the mind is their primary tool for interacting with the world.) Can dissect your position six ways to Sunday. Fantastic Four mnemonic: Mr. Fantastic, Reed Richards, the scientific genius of the quartet.

Melancholic: the farmer or contemplative type. Hangs on with both hands to what it’s got. The strong, silent type. Tradition! Finders, keepers. Fantastic Four mnemonic: Ben Grimm, The Thing, a big stony guy with superhuman strength and endurance.

Phlegmatic: the slave, ruled by desires. Goes with the flow. Like water, conforms to the shape of the vessel its in; wears down its path by pure habit and persistence. Sure, I could exert myself… if I have to… I guess. Fantastic Four mnemonic: Sue Storm, The Invisible Woman, who blends effortlessly into the background.

Which temperament is at the root of your personality? That’s another blog post. The method I’m learning involves studying factors such as Ascendant and its ruler, Moon phase, Sun season, and Lord of the Geniture. It is a bit like fiddling with the dials on a shortwave radio to get the clearest signal you can; and some charts signal more strongly than others. But in this old-school astrology, you would no more start talking about the person’s chart without considering their temperament than you would call them on the phone without knowing what language they speak.

Walking through Harvard Square with a frozen yogurt last night, I discovered a copy of Robert Burton’s 1621 classic The Anatomy of Melancholy on display in an antiquarian bookshop. Neat, as I’m currently learning about temperament. Melancholy is the cold and dry temperament: the contemplative.

Here’s the best my camera phone could do. The images on the frontispiece all have astrological symbols expressing different planetary combinations. Impossible to see here, even if you click to enlarge the image, but cool.

The Anatomy of Melancholy

The Anatomy of Melancholy

And a shot of the opening poem, which specifically calls out Saturn as melancholy’s primary purveyor.

The opening poem...

The opening poem...

Thanks to astrologer Judy Westley for showing me the unusual birth chart of modern astrologer Isabel Hickey, author of Astrology: A Cosmic Science.*

Notice anything unusual?

Isabel Hickey: 19 August 1903, 12:30pm, Brookline, Massachusetts, USA

Click to enlarge it if you like. Every single traditional planet is in its own domicile. That is…

  • Sun is in Leo.
  • Moon is in Cancer.
  • Mercury is in Virgo.
  • Venus has just entered Libra.
  • Mars is in Scorpio, which it rules in the tradition.
  • Jupiter is in Pisces, which it rules in the tradition.
  • Saturn is in Aquarius, which it rules in the tradition.

To which I said, “Wow.” But what I meant was, “Whoa.”

Judy’s question is, how do you determine the Lord of the Geniture when you have so many promising candidates to choose from? Which of these planets would the native want to put in charge of the ship, piloting her soul? I know which one I would choose. Let’s have a look.

First, knowing there are so many strong choices, I’d eliminate planets in the 6th, 8th, and 12th houses. In these traditionally malefic places, planets are hard pressed to express themselves. They might be pillars of virtue by essential dignity, but they’re less able to help us if they’re accidentally imprisoned or down a well. So strike Mars (in the 12th) and Moon (in the 8th).

Next, given a choice of retrograde or direct planets, I’d prefer a direct one. Saturn and Jupiter, though highly dignified essentially, are both retrograde. They’re leading the vessel in the wrong direction. So let’s drop them from the running.

We still have Sun in the cadent 9th, Mercury in the angular 10th, and Venus in the succedent 11th. I vote for Mercury, being angular, and therefore best placed to shake what its mama gave it.** This pilot, this Lord of the Geniture, has the best combination of essential and accidental dignity of all the seven. That said, Sun is in its joy in the 9th – the house in which it is most delighted to find itself – and thus gains somewhat in accidental dignity. But I think Mercury wins the day for being angular.

But seriously, embarrassment of riches. We should all have such problems. What I wonder is how all of these planets interacted with each other in Hickey’s life. All admirals, no sailors. Plus, the receptions! Sun and Saturn can’t stand each other, being in each other’s detriment. Same with Venus and Mars. Same with Mercury and Jupiter. Moon hates Saturn but Saturn doesn’t reciprocate its animosity. There’s some exaltation among some of them: Moon exalts Jupiter, Jupiter exalts Venus, Venus exalts Saturn… but how can any one of these monarchs persuade the others that its way is best?

 

* I actually haven’t read this or any of Hickey’s work. Too 20th century for me. :-)

** this is straight out of Ptolemy, I swear on a stack of Tetrabibli

Notice anything unusual?

Notice anything unusual?

Click to enlarge it. What makes it special? More commentary coming soon.

I’m going to need some proper astrology software for the PC soon. Some full-featured package that’s friendly to the traditional astrologer. What do you use? Do you like it? What do you wish you’d known about it before buying?