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Between the Lines |
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Interview with David Berlinski |
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The Secrets of the Vaulted Sky
Astrology and the Art of Prediction
David Berlinski
With a genius for storytelling and penetrating analysis, David Berlinski takes us through the history of astrology, tells us how it works, and explains how astrological ideas relate to
modern science. |
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Biography |
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| David Berlinski, author of the bestselling A Tour of the Calculus received his Ph.D. from Princeton University and is a regular contributor to Commentary
and Forbes ASAP. He lives in Paris. |
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Interview |
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Q: What was your motivation and inspiration for writing a book about astrology and its influence on modern
science?
A: I was intrigued by the idea of a failed science, the more so since the science in question has a very long, very curious history. Astrology has been
present in Western culture from its very beginning in the Sumerian era. With the advent of mathematical physics in the 17th century, astrology comes to an end both as an intellectual and
as a social force. And yet the science that replaced astrology—Newton's science of mechanics—and astrology itself, although differing very considerably in intellectual power, nonetheless
share a strong family resemblance—the same strong bones, wide-set eyes, and slightly goofy expression. What I found most interesting about astrology as a failed science is that in some
sense it lives on despite its official and widely-noted death rattle. Astrological forms of thought are present in biology, a most astrological endeavor, and even in contemporary mathematical
physics itself. Astrology has always been a magical discipline inasmuch as it has always been committed to some form of action at a distance, the very mark of magical thinking. Magical
thinking has not disappeared from modern science: It has simply been disguised by a brilliantly effective mathematical screen. Where the screen is thinnest, as in molecular biology, the
magic is still very notable.
Beyond this, the problems that the astrologers faced had the quality of great depth—action at a distance, free will, causes that incline but do not compel; and the men and women struggling
to meet these problems evoke a sense of shared sympathy—in me, at least.
Q: In the process you cast your own horoscope and found that you will probably be a "writer of obscure books." You don't seem to mind the description
so please share your take on the definition of a "writer of obscure books” and explain how you fit into that category.
A: No, I don't mind being a writer of obscure books at all. There are writers who like stately ocean liners are mainline if not mainstream. I'm not one
of them. I am an intensely personal writer; I like to follow my nose; and I have my own prose style. It's a matter of taste, of course, but no doubt a matter of talent as well. In any
case, when I had the occasion to read Firmicus Maternus and I saw that according to him I was bound to be either a corpse watcher or a writer of obscure books, I felt right at home.
Q: Secrets of the Vaulted Sky meanders through a history marked by the rise and fall of astrology—sometimes popular as a science, sometimes as a religion,
and often as a mystical guide. How did you approach and conduct historical research knowing that there would be large gaps in time where astrology had fallen into disuse or disrespect?
A: I did the best I could. A true scholarly history of astrology from ancient to modern times would swallow a man's life and require an immersion into a
primary literature written in at least a dozen languages. It can't be done, and I didn't do it. Research followed an obvious plan of management: look at the chief secondary sources, so
long as they were written in an accessible language; and then follow the trail back to the primary sources, with the inevitable provision that the primary sources also had to be in an
accessible language. My son and I had Greek, Latin, French, German, and English at hand; and we had help with Arabic. Scholars in the field will understand that this comprised an extraordinarily
modest background.
Q: Your son, Mischa Berlinski, served as a research assistant on this book. Tell us about your experiences working with him.
A: Mischa is a trained classicist with a degree from the University of California at Berkeley. I certainly could not have written this book without his help;
and in every respect, save the actual writing of it, it is as much his as it is mine. Working together was a pleasure. Of course it was . . . he's my boy.
Q: Which period in history do you think is the most interesting in terms of astrology's influence and use?
A: There are so many periods of great interest, and each is interesting for a different reason. The most gripping drama involving astrology took place in the high Middle Ages. On the one hand, the extraordinary noble discussion of signs and causes one finds in Thomas Aquinas, and on the other, one hundred years later, the frantic effort by the masters of medicine at the University of Paris to find a coherent astrological explanation for the Black Death.
Q: You reference many historical periods where high-ranking government officials used astrologers as guides—in ancient Rome, in the ninth-century Moslem
world, and during Hitler's reign, to mention a few. Given that several of these government leaders had their astrologers executed when they didn't like their predictions, why would anyone
want to be an astrologer in these times—what was the reward?
A: I suspect that astrologers, like moths, wandered close to the lights of power because they had no choice. They were persuaded of their gift, and they
had to get to the place where their gifts could shine. Many physicians, by the way, met similar fates while attempting to cure various powerful men.
Q: How does the modern science of mathematics relate to the ancient science of astrology?
A: I would say that pure mathematics has no connection today to classical astrology—none whatsoever. There was a moment in the 16th century where one could
see an alternative universe almost in the process of wriggling its way into being. I am talking now about Kepler not as a great observational astronomer but as a passionate and committed
astrologer, albeit an astrologer with little use for traditional astrology. The moment died before it ever lived. Here and there one does run across competent mathematicians with a guilty
fondness for astrology. But there is no connection between astrology and mathematics.
Q: Astrology is still very popular in today's world—including with our government officials (or at least their wives, e.g., Nancy Reagan). What then do
you mean when you call it a "failed science"?
A: Yes, astrology is still very popular; but so are many vaguely intellectual pursuits. Astrology is a failed science in a simple but inescapable sense:
When measured by the standards of success of our own serious empirical science—mathematical physics—it simply does not measure up. It has no rich mathematical basis; it cannot predict
the future.
Q: If you were to summarize the findings of your research in one sentence, what would you say?
A: I really don't think I have any findings; I've had a chance to do what every writer dreams of doing and that is to bring to life what would otherwise be dead.
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