THE SEMINAR
A Saul Vogel Mystery
I began to read a very well written handbook of astrology – and I was stunned. The idea that the forces of my psyche correspond to the locations of the planets in my horoscope, a planet-chart cast exactly for the time and place of my birth, appealed to me. At last, I felt connected to the Greater Whole, a feat neither religion nor philosophy had been able to achieve. And I had considered astrology a superstition!
In the final chapters, the authors used Frederic Chopin to illustrate what astrology can provide. Historical sources have two different dates of the composer’s birth. By comparing the two charts of Chopin to that of George Sand, his feminist writer-mistress, whose date of birth is certain, the authors concluded that should the composer be born on date A, he would not have attracted her – or the other way round. The chart for date B, however, shows that Sand and Chopin could give much to each other, as they did. Chopin must have been born on date B.
Ascertaining whether Chopin was born a fortnight later or earlier did not matter to me, but that you can compare charts of two living persons and warn them – before they commit themselves to marriage, partnership or whatnot – did. And what information can be elicited from comparing your chart to that of your mother, father or child! A spouse or lover! A business associate! A skillful astrologer can actually read people’s problems and complexes from their charts!
I was hooked. I paid cash for lessons in the use of astrological tables to calculate and draw horoscopes. I paid more to learn the techniques to interpret, correct and compare them. I bought and read dozens of books. I engrossed myself in charts of famous personalities. I studied history of astrology dating back to Babylonian times – and earlier. I bought my first computer because manual chart making is too cumbersome. I could hardly think and talk about anything else than astrology. I paid more cash to learn more about transits, progressions, midpoints, harmonics… But this is a record of Saul Vogel’s adventures, not mine.
Vogel was eyeing my astrological endeavors with interested though critical eyes. For some years now, I have been pestering my friends and acquaintances, demanding their birth data and interpreting charts for them quite successfully, so I finally asked for his.
“You feel wise enough to cast my chart? Are you telling me that the stars actually decide if and when I get married and when I die, not me or Fate?”
“No,” I said, “but if your birth data are correct I will be able to predict in what periods and in what way you will be most susceptible to dying – accident, sickness, boredom, other – or to marrying, say: for money, love or lust?”
It was a joke, as he is an inveterate bachelor.
He gave me his data and they were excellent, his father, a small-town physician, having meticulously noted down the exact time of birth during the delivery.
Vogel was quite impressed by some of my revelations (unless they were the fruit of our longstanding cooperation and cohabitation) and by some he was not. He remained, however, a much more sympathetic and participating witness than before.
For some years, I have been contacting a group of like-minded astrologers over the Internet. As we live in different parts of planet Earth, we were trying to meet in the flesh in one place, but the costs of transportation, accommodation and rental of suitable premises being so tantalizing…
One day (by this time Vogel was positively pumping me for astrological knowledge) I was explaining the tenets of a prediction technique called secondary progression:
“Imagine every of your first days on this new planet as long as a year because of the enormous bulk of impressions, thoughts, feelings and intuitions overwhelming the newborn. You the newborn make some unconscious decisions, important for the rest of your life. Let’s assume you are 20 years old now: the decisions you have taken on your 20th day of life have powerful influence on your 20th year of life. By comparing the chart for your 20th day of life with your birth-chart, you will be able to see what this influence was…”
“I’ve got it. Does it work?”
“I think I’ve seen it work all right for me. For example, I felt a great change in my life attitude and in my proclivity for action as soon as my progressive Mars had crossed over to the next Zodiac sign, a fiery one.”
“What do your colleagues say about these progressions?”
“Some swear by them, some call them bullshit.”
“What do you call them?”
“I don’t know what to think,” I replied and let him hear about the plan I have been incubating for the last couple of weeks: “Couldn’t I organize a seminar here in Domicile to find out?” And I volunteered half of my savings towards the costs.
He thought about it and said: “You must be joking: your own money? I’ll make sure the Members will sponsor our seminar!”
In my excitement, I forgot to ascertain the exact moment of the decision, so no chart could be erected, but the planets must have been in an extremely favorable alignment because many a honorable Member of Philosophers’ Circle (our club where homebred philosophers meet) have contributed to the project, even the miserly Chairman ($ 200) and the skeptic Federberg (“Astrology as a philosophical experiment, Mr. Vogel? I figured it was all humbug!”). The contributors have been invited to the opening banquet (some actually came) and to the seminar proper (none came).
The biggest donor, however, was the taxpayer. General Rubin, ashamed of his parsimonious and pusillanimous treatment of Vogel in connection with the wacky computer affair[1], has contributed with Army assistance. Naming it an exercise in preparation for an event of natural disaster, he sent tents, field kitchens, field rations, field hospital, chemical toilets, XXL-size staff-tents, beds, chairs, tables, a communications center and all the other materiel and personnel to run and coordinate it all. The clearing in front of Domicile became a sizable military encampment. And adequately so because as soon as I spread the word: “a seminar in a middle of a pristine forest, free accommodation, food and drink, just pay your way” to my Internet like-minded, I got well over 200 entries, instead of the 25-30 I had expected. People were spreading on to their masters and colleagues. One entered his wife (she became the star of the social evenings held in the bar tents; drinks for participants and staff were supplied by a Member, a liquor merchant) and another entered his 3 motherless children; they were to become a hit with the hospital’s nurses. There were cases of overdrinking and overeating for the medics to tackle but nothing more serious. And there is no shame in hospital staff’s promiscuity: the more encounters with death, the more need for life-confirming statements.
One master-astrologer has chosen to pass on from here, surrounded by his disciples, but it was a non-medical matter and no medic interfered.
I phoned Rubin when the participant list was ready, and he roared:
“274 instead of 30! You’re bothering me for that trifle? There are logistics there for 2.700!”
The Army has even provided hostess service for the participants arriving at Pegasino, the international airport, and at the Main Railway Station as well as transportation to Domicile.
Vogel’s share was to vacate Domicile. He moved over to Retreat, a log cabin surrounded by bog, and every morning he made the half-hour’s walk to eat and partake in the activities.
I moved over to the arbor in the garden behind Domicile, but as my garden is beautiful, people wanted to use it all the time – also at night for amorous purposes – so I budged to the boathouse by the lake deeper in the woods.
In every available room in Domicile we installed one of the aged masters, conveniently near bathrooms, the Army having provided additional beds, lockers and so on; a nurse was permanently stationed on the porch, just in case. The other participants and the staff lived in the pool of living-tents before Domicile. The tents and the numerous showers and toilets provided were all in camouflage patterns.
I was to be the mastermind-organizer-administrator of the seminar itself and I was relieved to find a willing substitute in Lt. Jacobsen, the Army having descended on us full two weeks before the event. In command of the Army effort, this young officer, a knowledgeable astrology-fan, overtook my Internet contacts and did a splendid job of fitting last-minute entrants and entries into the program. His efficiency enabled me to work on my own entry, and when, after the event, I was thanking Rubin I spoke highly of him. Jacobsen made Captain shortly after.
There was only one general assembly – at the welcome supper (wines and liquors courtesy of a Member, a distiller) – held on the evening of the third and last day of arrivals and billeting. The guests were assigned to one of the twelve “Zodiac-groups” (Lt. Jacobsen’s idea). The spontaneously forming subgroups – within the main groups or between them – just took one of the vacant meeting-tents and used its field-phone to call for refreshments. There was a communications center manned by military experts, a constantly updated website, and every tent and every room in Domicile had access to the Web as well as transformers for outlandish sockets and voltage. Practically all the astrologers brought laptops and communicated by e-mail and cellular phones. Seven bars and cafés took care of non-electronic communications, and the military cooks who toiled for our three square meals a day received a standing ovation at the farewell lunch. It is only fair to mention, though, that they were greatly abetted through lavish donations from a Member, the managing director of a delicatessen chain, and from another Member, the representative for a company importing foods. Every willing member of the military staff had his/her chart cast and interpreted free by up to three astrologers.
It’s been a great seminar, astrologically. In my main group and subgroups I heard a lot of interesting stuff:
- About the houses i.e. ways of dividing the horoscope and problems arising from the differences between the variety of house systems used by astrologers.
- A tribute to the British astrologer Liz Greene who had predicted the fact and the time of the Soviet Union’s collapse many years before it actually took place.
- An explanation of the heliocentric astrology system devised by Willi Sucher.
- About the great Johannes Kepler’s astrological prowess.
- A tirade against the astronomers who think themselves qualified to denounce astrology as pseudo-science although they know dick about its tenets.
- About Tycho Brahe’s astrological proficiency.
- About the importance of the last planet in the chart (my own entry) and the Nodes.
- About a great many things, which were debated officially or privately over a drink.
- Made new friends, strengthened bonds with old ones, cast and discussed charts.
Vogel participated in the agenda and took his meals with the rest of us. During the fortnight, I met him twice or thrice in subgroups and he was asking advanced questions of the type a student would ask. It dawned on me: he is taking a two-week astrology class; how practical! And everyone was so respectful and patient knowing him to be the host: not only this was his woods and place, but he also got the Army to help. He was present at the passing on of the old master. I met him many more times in the bars; very sociable. He even contrived to invite a nurse and a lady-astrologer over to Retreat.
The farewell lunch was sponsored by Member Wilcox, a multimillionaire, prepared by his fabulous French Chef-in-Chief and served by his waiters: thus the Army cooks and orderlies could take time off and enjoy a meal without having first to make or serve it. Everybody was invited: the military, the guests, the hosts and the sponsoring Members.
General Rubin put up an appearance and looked proud while the orators were heaping praise on the Army. Then the other sponsors got praised.
An old master stood up with a nurse and they announced their engagement. We drank to them and someone proposed a toast to the host.
All got up and drank (other tents were visually connected with the VIP tent by CC TV), and as the guests sat down, Vogel rose to his feet:
“Ladies and gentlemen, it’s been a pleasure to receive you all here. And I am very grateful to those of my guests, who are astrologers, for their patience with my amateurish inquiries. I’ve learnt a lot from you. I have not yet learnt, though, whether secondary progressions are bull or not. Perhaps we should repeat this one day?”
He bowed to Rubin and the sponsors at the high table; they looked unresponsive, though.
“I have learnt, however,” he went on, “that regardless of whether an astrologer uses progressions – secondary or tertiary – or whichever house system he or she employs, it is always the planets which decide, irrespective of whether she or he believes them to dictate our fates or only to influence them. Why is it so? The fundamental tenet of astrology, I was led to understand, is “as above so below”. Why is it always us – below – who are determined or influenced by the planets – above – and not the other way round? Why not “as below so above”?”
He took a sip of champagne, letting his words sink into the spellbound audience.
“Whether you believe that the planets influence us or that their positions are synchronic to what happens down here or you don’t believe in any of it, please do me a favor and participate in a philosophical experiment consistent with the tenets and aims of Philosophers’ Circle, the club of the Sponsors.” A bow to the high table again. “I’m asking for two minutes of your time. Whether you are military, astrologer, sponsor or a member of Mr. Wilcox’ staff, please halt whatever you are doing, close your eyes and concentrate on the planet Jupiter. Focus on Jupiter’s picture, glyph, house (the 9th), sign (Sagittarius the Archer) or name, whichever you prefer. Mentally, send the planet the following message on my signal: 'Jupiter, give us a sign that we humans can influence you,' until I tell you to stop. We’re a strong constellation of humans here. Why shouldn’t we be heard? All right, ladies and gentlemen, are you ready? Close your eyes… now!”
How typically Vogel, I thought, to choose the biggest of all the planets!
I glanced at the TV-screens from the other tents and saw people following his instructions. Even the waiters stood motionless, trays in their hands, eyes closed.
I closed mine.
“Thank you, much obliged,” Vogel opened his more than five minutes later, sat down and we went back to whatever had been interrupted.
Those who had an expectation of something Jovian happening at once were disappointed: the lunch ended without any incident, the guests departed, only the military, Vogel and me were left.
One more day and the military were gone, too, leaving some of the installations behind: they were proclaimed obsolete. Obsolete, my ass: I can access Cyberspace even from my arbor's chemical lavatory to this day!
Some months later I read in the press that astronomers had discovered an anomaly in Jupiter’s orbit. It was a slight one, but it rendered Jupiter’s expected positions – as recorded in the ephemeris – a minute of a grade or so inaccurate.
Astronomers blame it on the recent bombardment of the planet by the nine Shoemaker-Levy comets, but the participants of the seminar all share quite a different view.
Copyright © 2007 Peter Billig
