The findings presented are taken from an intensive study of 10 cases of severe cerebral palsy (study in progress at time of publication). The summary emphasises the extreme importance of considering mid-points together with degree areas.

Data of 7 charts is presented and thoughts on the phenomenon that the Moon/Saturn midpoint appears in 6, are invited.

Since 1963, sections on astrology and astronomy have appeared regularly in the Index Medicus, a catalogue of periodical literature compiled annually by the American Medical Associaton (until 1964) and the U.S. Department of Health, Education and Welfare. A list is presented of all titles under “Astrology” from 1963 to May 1969. Titles under “Astronomy” have also been included, except for articles on telescope optics and similar matters not related to astrology.

Point by point discussion of various terms in astrology. What do they mean in terms of “scientific astrology”? Clarity of definition may help in developing better research strategies.

Success and failure of IVF oucome is examined for association with astrological indicators. A case study is presented of a woman who experienced two failed attempts and a subsequent successful one. Saturn’s association with failed attempts is discussed together with the association of Venus, Jupiter and the Moon with success. Brief discussion of other astrological techniques associated with successful conception is presented.

Success and failure of IVF oucome is examined for association with astrological indicators. A case study is presented of a woman who experienced two failed attempts and a subsequent successful one. Saturn’s association with failed attempts is discussed together with the association of Venus, Jupiter and the Moon with success. Brief discussion of other astrological techniques associated with successful conception is presented.

Astrology has been studied for millennia and practiced and accepted for as long. To understand astrology and its benefits for timing and even mehtods of conception, one must begin with a view of the zodiac and an examination of the couple’s birth charts.

Two case studies of couples who have exeprienced difficulties with conceiving are presented and the astrology of their birth charts is discussed in this context.

Book review:
This has proved a difficult book to review, not just because a Zodiac of twelve authors have participated in its creation, each brings different concerns to the finished work, which embrace psychology, mathematics, art history, architecture, philosophy, anthropology and much else, but because it forces me to confront fundamental philosophical differences with the majority of its contributors, many of whom I know personally, and hold in high regard for their contributions to astrology, and from whom I have benefited. The papers represent a selection of those delivered at two conferences held during 2005; conferences I was unable to attend due to work commitments, and now have the unfair advantage of putting into print thoughts that would have been far better debated at the time.

In the penultimate paper (which perhaps should have come first, as it sets the scene so eloquently) Richard Tarnas clarifies much current debate with an account of modernity’s rejection of the human being as situated in a mysterious world governed by meaningful principles, in favour of an ego-driven, technological environment in which individual desire is the sole driving force. While his general analysis cannot be faulted, his fleeting reference to Nietzsche identified a door that was not opened. Nietzsche’s central thesis was that humanity had to re-evaluate its sacred ideas, and strip away all illusions. He predicted, accurately, that humanity’s reaction to this would be a retreat into Nihilism, which he called a ‘pathological response’ (God is dead, everything means nothing, so let’s give up). But Nietzsche challenged that attitude with his passionate belief in the fundamental power of the natural world and, like Heidegger, demanded that theory should be set aside so that the world could ‘show itself as it is’. While Nietzsche and Heidegger were exceptional scholars of the ancient world, drawing on much pre-Socratic thought (both thinkers essentially rejecting the Platonic above/below, timeless/temporal, theory/experience divide as quasi-Cartesian) their re-thinking of the past has led, in the hands of others, to both the very post-modern sterility that Tarnas describes, but also to new visions of the human being that Tarnas hints at in his closing paragraph. However, like many of the contributors, he primarily couches his views within the orthodoxies of neo-Platonism and Jungian psychology, and thus side-steps alternative readings. And herein lies my problem with this volume: there is virtually no engagement with the present, and the shifting nature of ideas. If Sky and Psyche are one, an ancient idea that Nicholas Campion invokes in his introduction, then what is happening now? After all, it is only in the now that we exist, albeit a now that simultaneously contains a shifting understanding of our past and our expectations of the future, which in turn are made possible, as Heidegger (and astrologers) claim, by the fluid nature of time.

Of course, there could come a speedy –and valid – response to my disquiet from many of the contributors, who might observe that they were essentially engaged in historical research. But research conducted within the astrological paradigm should contain astrology’s implicit assumption: that everything –including human thought- is in flux, and thus my world is fundamentally different from the world of the ancients. In Heideggarian jargon, we cannot disclose the world of the ancients because we are not situated within their time. Only the now can be disclosed because only in the now do we exist. And there is very little attempt to explore the now of Sky and Psyche within this volume. The Platonic response might be to suggest that there is within me some inchoate knowledge of essential forms, which I draw upon to make sense of their temporal equivalent, as if there is within me some sort of map that makes my immediate landscape partially comprehensible. But such a claim holds a conundrum. If I need something ‘inner’ to recognise its outer portrayal, then how can I recognise the meaning of the inner in the first place, or even know that it has any meaning at all? If we say that “I just do” then I could similarly recognise meaning in the ‘outer’ without any need for recourse to a hypothetical ‘inner’ to explain my understanding. Much psychological theory founders in similar waters, with concepts of unconscious processes, psychic mechanisms and so on, all allegedly framing conscious perceptions, but are post-facto constructs of its theorising.

I labour these points partly to bring to the fore the unquestioning nature of many of the papers: a particular truth is assumed, and is supported by evidence framed in a language that only engages with its own terms of reference, and partly to acknowledge my own struggles with the profound issues raised by the various authors. And profound they are. There is little doubt that the publication of Sky and Psyche is a considerable achievement, and along with Campion’s Culture and Cosmos journal is an important contribution to the history of ideas that inform some of astrology’s paradigms, though the volume tends to ignore others. To put it bluntly, there is little engagement with the lived experience of astrology –and, indeed, virtually no astrological examples. Yes, Liz Green includes some welcome charts, but their circles are encompassed by an unquestioned, and familiar

mythology. Has nothing of philosophical importance happened since the time of Plato (or before) has nothing taken place within psychology after lightening struck Zurich’s old oak?

This is not a demand for new techniques -which, at face value only echoes current scientism – but rather a call to explore the evolving nature of ideas. Both John Addey and Charles Harvey were convinced neo-Platonists, and from their work emerged theories of harmonics, of which little is to found amongst current astrological writings, yet both authors drew on the same Plato that informs the majority of this volume’s contributors, but were always tilted towards a horizon that has found little recognition here.

Of course, some contributors contradict a few of my complaints. Noel Cobb’s paper wickedly portrays the manner in which current politicians wish to extend their suspect mastery of the firmament with delusional aspirations for controlling space, and includes some beautifully written passages extolling the centrality of the geocentric worldview: this is our world, which we can revere or contaminate. In this essay he shares many of his personal experiences, and brings them vividly to life. And, as ever, Robert Hand attempts to bring together ancient modes of thought within a modern, and in this case mathematical model, one which demonstrates the manner in which abstract calculus disconnects us from out physical sense of the world, and offers an alternative, though one that requires considerable pondering as to its applicability within the ebb and flow of life. In his preamble he puts into parenthesis the question what is space? What, indeed! In his lectures to psychiatrists at Zollikon, Heidegger posed the same question. The transcript records that ten minutes of silence followed…

But to return to this volume, and its treatment of embodied space. While Angela Voss offers an illuminating, and beautifully illustrated essay on the capacity for statues to evoke the ineffable, not all contributors manage to catch the book’s central theme with the same clarity. Both Nicholas Pearson and Cherry Gilchrist generously share their moments of illumination, Pearson with an account of a personal journey of discovery and Gilchrist with a fascinating description of Russian shamanism. But Pearson makes no reference the volume’s theme, and Gilchrist offers only the most generalized account of sky and psyche for the shaman (that the layout of a house may mirror concepts of above and below and so forth) a theme which has been extensively explored by many philosophically-orientated anthropologists, and the omission of disparate views, even if forcefully rejected, seems at odds with academic endeavour. But she is not alone here, and perhaps this is how astrology is caught when it knocks on University doors seeking re-admittance after 400 years. There may be a hovering between scholastic demands, which are partially acknowledged, and a wariness of rushing in with a radically different world-view. Of course, I have been spared the tribulations of the book’s editors, who have tried so hard for so many years to hold the doors ajar against the weight of orthodox opinion, that I feel a disquiet at my various criticisms, but, nevertheless, they clearly surface here. In this volume the practice of astrology, which is implicit in the title, finds little voice within its pages, though it has ultimately been made possible by those whose lives have been dedicated to its cause. As ever, astrology, the bastard child of innumerable cultures, still seeks parental acknowledgement, and does not quite know which way to turn under the endless revolve of a sky that is mainly illuminated by the Sun and the Moon.

And here two papers really stand out, in that they capture the volume’s title most directly. Bernadette Brady’s examination of the astro-geography of Chartres cathedral and Jules Cashford’s exploration of lunar mythology. In her paper on Chartres Brady has distilled essential information and diagrams into a clear, and highly informative essay that really brings to life the ancient masons, and the manner in which the solar world may have informed their architecture. But, for me, the paper offered by Cashford steals the show. Though staying within the Jungian/Platonic paradigms, she is the only contributor who reminds us that our perceptions change over time, and that we can never claim to comprehend the sky/world of the ancients. Her theme contrasts Brady’s with its focus on the evolution of Lunar imagery, and she presents it within the poetry, mythology and iconography of various cultures, identifying both the similarities and divergences of the Moon’s enduring influence on humanity’s consciousness. And here this word -consciousness – which forms part of the book’s title- reminds us again that we are all moulded by the slow tread of time. Consciousness is a comparatively modern concept, stemming from Descartes, and only finds it way in common usage in the 17th century. Were the ancients ‘conscious’ – are we? – or has the invention of yet another abstract concept come between us and the immanence of the world that this volume aims to explore? If I see something in the sky that is meaningful for me, am I ‘conscious’ of this, or do I just see/experience it? Endless papers have been written on ‘consciousness studies’, without there being a single, clear definition of the subject’s enquiry. And such could be said of the astrologer, who sees/experiences the transient moments of transits as something that is shown and felt, but still defies, a clear analysis.

There is no doubt that its various authors have combined to create a book of considerable importance, and one that can be strongly recommended to astrologers, psychotherapists, and all who are concerned with trying to understand our place within the cycles and images of the world. All the papers are written with commendable clarity, and are well referenced; many have extensive bibliographies that urge us to further reading. While the ideas presented will have the greatest appeal for those whose life has been illuminated by Plato, Jung and similar thinkers, the uncertain readers will also find in this volume a richness of ideas, imagery, and accounts of life-experiences that demand recognition and thoughtful re-reading. Despite my various objections, I would urge serious students of astrology to engage with the thoughts and experiences of its various contributors, as I have tried to do, and offer their own response to what, for me, has been both an illuminating and a problematic text.

Book review:
This is a revised and expanded version of a classic text that was first published in 1998. Ever since I got that first edition, it has been one of the very few books I keep within arm’s reach while I work, and this new edition is even better.

The book’s particular angle is stated on the first page of the Introduction:

…despite all the books that speak of the essential message of house meanings, very little exists in contemporary literature to foster a true appreciation of that essence by illustrating where the meanings come from. The origin of their symbolism is poorly understood, and little effort has been made by modern astrologers to investigate and define their meaning. (p.ix.)

The book fulfils two distinct functions. Firstly, it is a ‘cook-book’ for houses – and in this role it is the best there is. (The meanings of each house are covered on pp.61-92, and there is also a rulership index, pp.160-168). Secondly, underpinning the entire text is an enquiry into where the house meanings come from, and an attempt to purge the misinterpretations that have crept into this area of astrology.

Probably the worst source of distortion, Houlding judges, is the attempt to equate signs and houses:

Although modern natal astrology allows a considerable exchange of meaning between houses and signs, the suggestion that houses derive their meanings from signs is clearly contradicted in traditional texts, where a much stronger distinction is readily apparent. (p.x).

There is much very interesting material in her description of what is needed in order to understand the houses correctly. The two things that stand out in my mind are:

– the observation (p.19) that while there is mileage in considering the houses as a ‘cycle of life’, this works only if we judge the cycle to move according to diurnal motion – i.e. from the 12th house to the 11th, and so on. As she points out, this is the opposite motion from the (counter-clockwise) numerical sequence of houses which modern authors have often taken as their starting point.

– The author’s illustration of how the joys of the planets have fed back into the understanding of house meanings – with perhaps the most significant single instance being the Venusian qualities which have been assimilated into the definition of the 5th house (see p.32 – 40).

What Houlding offers here is a way of understanding the houses which is more hard-edged than is met with in many modern astrology books, as for example when she insists:

The 8th house remains the house of death, loss and grief, no matter how pleasantly we wrap that up in digestible phrases such as ‘personal-transformation’. (p.21.)
I think the perspective offered here might be of interest to many researchers, both insofar as it challenges certain common assumptions about the core meanings of the houses, and also for the way that it lays out the philosophical basis for the houses’ meanings, making it possible by working from first principles to figure out which house might be expected to rule any given subject. The final two chapters are devoted to the problem of which house system is ‘the best’. Houlding concludes that this is an unanswerable question:

…there are so many valid frames of reference, and it is impossible to fully recognise the potential of them all within any one technique. (pp.122-3.)

Anyone who already has the first edition will find the text thoroughly overhauled, and often expanded. Much of the expansion is by way of further explanation and definition of terms, so if you have the first edition and already understand everything in it then this new version should count as ‘desirable’ rather than ‘essential’. Otherwise, this is simply a must-have for anyone with a serious interest in astrology.

Review:
Astrologers of the reviewer’s generation, who drew on the works of Addey, Harvey and Ruperti, will at once recognise the central theme of Scofield’s thesis: that an understanding of planetary cycles is an essential prerequisite to an understanding of human development. But there is an important difference: the Platonic/Spiritual ideas that informed these writers are substantially replaced by the demands of biology. Scofield asks us to consider whether biological development in both human and non-human subjects is causally entrained with the planets. He proposes that the cycles of the planets actually trigger developmental changes within us in a factual, rather than a symbolic manner, and offers a variety of evidence to support his claim.

In doing so, he draws mainly on the developmental theories of Freud, Piaget and Erikson, but also includes Percy Seymour’s work on resonance, Bowlby’s attachment theory, and also the work of Timothy Leary. This is a heady and complex mixture, which Scofield acknowledges. Although the psychologists frame much of his argument, they are far from a solid foundation. Freud’s psychosexual stages, as originally described, have very little use within current psycho-analysis, and in his later years Freud was far more interested in the seven-year dentition cycle, with which he associated his own creative process, and also constantly returned to Wilhelm Fliess’ hypothesised 23/28-day cycles, which were the precursor of biorhythms, and which Freud believed could predict illness and even death. As the moment of birth determined the start of these cycles, they should hold an interest for astrologers. However, with so many models on offer, there is a surfeit of cycles. Erikson’s extension of Freud’s epigenetic principle postulated eight developmental stages, beginning with Trust vs. Mistrust up to age one, to Integrity vs. Despair at 50 and beyond, and mixed biological functions with more culture-dependent interpretations. While Piaget makes more precise observations, and has tighter time periods, there are still stages such as the Intuitive Phase, from four to seven years, which gives an enormous orb of time relative to the child’s age, and for which a wide range of planetary cycles could be invoked as causal agents. Jung’s work is also drawn upon, but profound as it is, does not really lend itself to temporal analysis, as concepts such as ‘youth’ and ‘middle-age’ are open to endless re-definition.

While those influenced by Freud and Jung have their own interminable arguments, they do share a central theme, echoed by both Erikson and Piaget: that of the developing ego, or self. Here, Scofield readily admits that there is a philosophical problem at the core of his work: there is no real understanding of what might be meant by ‘a self’ (the development of which is the theme of his book), and here seems to come down on Adler’s side, who suggested that the concept of an ego may not be needed. Freud, Jung and Adler each owed a debt to Nietzsche, who first suggested that the concept of the ego was primarily a consequence of language, that we are now stuck with – an observation taken to heart only by the Lacanian and Existential schools of psychotherapy. However, nothing illustrates this problem better than the oft-repeated claim that the planets revolve around the sun: the classic ego symbol. In truth, they revolve around an empty space, the centre of mass, which the sun occupies for erratic periods. As good a symbol of the ‘self’ problem as one could hope to find.

Leaving such observations aside, Scofield’s picture is a challenging one. The cycles of planets literally switch on various developmental processes as they resonate to their natal positions, much as the function of a gene may be switched on by a chemical agent. With so many personality variables, and so many different ways of developing, we must be in train with innumerable cycles, some of which may coincide with others and bring early development, or slip out of phase and delay growth, depending on the specific natal arrangement. While this thought may offer a reason for the wide time frames observed by the psychologists referred to above, it also raises a perplexing question: why has Scofield omitted any reference to the work of John Addey, even though he uses the term ‘harmonic’ and asks us to pay attention to phase angles? This is particularly puzzling, as Addey’s method of work would seem to offer an ideal template for exploring the complexity of interlocking cycles. Interestingly, Addey was pursuing a similar direction – the possibility of a relationship between astrology and genetics – and was studying for an MA in genetics at the time of his death.

All of the above might suggest that the reviewer has great reservations about this book. Not so. Scofield has had the courage to engage with a massive raft of influential ideas, many of which have never been properly addressed by astrologers, and which form the basis of acceptable theories of human development. No less a figure than Darwin acknowledged that many creatures have lunar-related developmental periods. He felt that the full moon made successful mating more likely, and thus this factor became selected. For him (and for Freud) current examples are the product of evolution, which are now genetically embedded. If the moon were to disappear, the rhythms would presumably remain, for they are not currently caused by the Moon but are a consequence of evolutionary history. In the field of chronobiology, such arguments continue. Do we have inbuilt biological clocks, or do we actually respond to external factors such as the sun, moon, or the rotation of the earth? Scofield’s thesis pushes this discussion towards the astrological paradigm with commendable honesty, recognising that his book is ‘work in progress’ and that he may ‘have published too soon’. But such is the case with many scientists; indeed the constant re-drawing of ideas is virtually the paradigm for scientific exploration, and should be no less for the astrologer.

This is a book that will provoke many thoughts and reactions – as it has done here – for it opens up new ways of thinking about the astrological paradigm, and it does so with a clarity that is admirably ‘waffle-free’. I would urge all astrologers to read it for themselves, and engage, thoughtfully, with Scofield’s ideas.