Tuesday, 14 May 2024

The Planetary Doctrine (by Dorijan Nuaj)


William Mortensen


Interpreting the astrological psychology of Marsilio Ficino, Thomas Moore, in his book The Planets Within, states that the soul is nourished by images because images are the source of spirit. Astrological and Hermetic images depicting the nature of planets and zodiac signs are key sources in cultivating the magical imagination in the West. The classical representations of planets as agents of spirit are a striking expression of the ancient understanding of the psyche as a reflection of the macrocosm. However, for the psyche to truly function in this way, one must possess a well-trained and strong imagination—for without an orderly imagination, there can be no orderly psyche. Only an orderly psyche can reflect the harmonious order of the cosmos.

Each planetary spirit or god—called an archon in Gnosticism—of which there are seven, corresponding to the planets known in antiquity (including the Sun and the Moon), has endowed humanity with a portion of its nature. Thus, human beings, in their character and nature, represent a mixture of planetary qualities. In this sense, the planets dwell within us. In an ideal state, the harmony prevailing among the celestial bodies naturally reflects in the microcosm. But the experience of earthly life disturbs this natural macro-microcosmic harmony. Our inner planets intermingle, collide, and conflict, disrupting the balance, which results in human misery, illness, madness, or misfortune.

Manly Palmer Hall, in The Secret Teachings of All Ages, described planetary spirits as a spectrum extracted from the white light of the Supreme Deity. Accordingly, he wrote that the worship of planets is based on their acceptance as cosmic embodiments of the seven creative attributes of God. Thomas Moore emphasizes the ancient text Asclepius, which contains foundational ideas for Ficino's theory of magic. According to Asclepius, what sustains life in all things is the breath, or spiritus. In Ficino’s view, spiritus is the intermediary in the magical connection between planetary daimons and the physical world—or a person’s life within it. The transmission of spiritus from planets to individuals, as described in Asclepius, occurs through the creation of images. Each image, as Moore notes—for example, a statue representing a planetary deity—has the power to gather, retain, and transmit the force of that deity to those who use the image. In this sense, Moore concludes, images carry deep archetypal power. The images he refers to are woven into the very foundations of the human mind.

Not only are the planets within us, but so is all of nature. In so-called primitive and ancient societies, we find beliefs regarding the soul’s origin—concepts of conception involving spiritual forces, from which the doctrine of the Immaculate Conception of the Virgin Mary ultimately stems. For example, the Egyptian goddess Neith was said to have conceived from the wind.

At this point, I would like to draw the reader’s attention to representations of the nature and essence of the seven traditional planets. The first, and mythologically the oldest, and physically the most distant, is Saturn. By observing the details in classical images, we can grasp the essential nature not only of Saturn but of each planet. As Moore states, Saturn represents hidden, simple knowledge, separated from movement and united with divine matters. To perceive mysteries within the soul’s depths, one must withdraw from ordinary activity and conventional patterns of thought. According to ancient tradition, the defining qualities of Saturn are weight, depth, contemplation, and orientation toward the abstract, the spiritual, the religious, and the artistic—all immersed in a melancholic atmosphere. Moore highlights two natures of Saturn: puer and senex. Puer is Saturn the revolutionary—wielding the sickle to castrate Uranus and dethrone authority. This is, one might say, Saturn’s martial aspect: energetic, youthful, rebellious, and power-seeking, as seen in The Emperor of the tarot’s major arcana. Senex, as Moore notes, is the senile old king jealously guarding his rule, the monarch of a golden past. It is precisely this golden past that is the most intriguing feature of Saturn’s nature, for it holds something valuable—like a dragon guarding hidden treasure.

In alchemy, Saturn represents the metal lead—the raw material that, through successive transformations, ultimately becomes gold. Thus, Saturn is the father of gold, identified with the Black Sun (Sol Niger), the stage of putrefaction in alchemy, symbolized by the raven. Saturn is the grave. His children are gravediggers, but also carpenters and masons—they build and bury, till the earth and dig graves. We can draw a parallel between Saturn and another major arcana: Death. This also points to Saturn's connection with Mars, as the puer figure, The Emperor arcana, and the zodiac sign Aries all relate to gold (e.g., the Golden Fleece), guarded by Saturn’s dragon. On the other hand, Saturn is linked to decay and death. As Fulcanelli explains, Saturn is the symbolic representative of the primal earthly metal—the parent of all others—but also their only natural solvent. Fulcanelli supports this mythological fact with an alchemical argument: when a metal is dissolved, it merges with its solvent and loses its identity. Thus, the solvent “devours” the metal—just as the old Saturn devours his children.

Sol Niger from the book Philosophia Reformata, (Johann Daniel Mylius 1583 1642)

Ficino wrote that Saturn dries out the soul, and he recommended various remedies to mitigate its malign influence. Still, he emphasized that perseverance, if practiced rightly, brings blessing—Saturn’s gift, the hidden gold. Gold is a solar metal, representing the link between Saturn and the Sun. In its residues and its leaden weight lies great treasure, as Moore remarks. Ficino suggested that we descend deeply into melancholy and remain there long enough for its work to be completed. Somewhere within lies that treasure. To approach it, we may turn again to Moore, who interprets James Hillman’s idea that depression is a response to manic cultural activism—a dying away of the literal world. Feeling slow and heavy, we turn inward, toward imagination. This inward turn is vital to the soul: it creates psychic space, a container for deep reflection, a place where the soul grows and surface events lose their urgency. Saturn pushes us to this threshold, Moore says, where representations become primordial—refined and freed from habitual thought and personal perspective.

These ideas align with Ficino’s teaching that a melancholic temperament aids the soul’s liberation from external distractions and is favorable for divination. Divination, oracles, and prophets are children of Apollo—embodiments of solar essence. Thus, the depths of depression and melancholy, if they do not destroy a person, lead to solar brilliance and the Sun’s gifts: clarity of vision, far-sightedness, truth-seeing, the perception of things as they truly are. Is this not like gold? Saturn, then, is both the cause and the cure of melancholy. The descent into melancholy—like a journey into Hades—is a kind of gathering inward, a withdrawal from the periphery to the center under Saturn’s gaze.

Moreover, as Moore explains, in Ficino’s theory of knowledge, Saturnine consciousness corresponds to the highest part of the soul—the function most detached from the material world. This is neither the spirituality of the Sun nor the reason of Mercury, but the depth of contemplation. Ficino also noted that both Saturn and Mercury share an inclination toward science and literature, but stand in opposition to Venus. Venus gives life; Saturn takes it away. Yet we must not forget Saturn’s association with old age. Old age is dry, but it also brings longevity. Ficino wrote that, to achieve long life, a Saturn talisman was made from sapphire during Saturn’s hour, while he was ascending and well-aspected. The talisman depicted an old man sitting on a high throne or riding a dragon, with his head veiled in a dark cloth, his hands raised, holding a sickle or a fish wrapped in dark fabric. Dark colors, the sickle, the fish, the dragon—these are all attributes of the chthonic powers of the Great Mother. Let us recall that Kabbalists associate the sephira Binah, the “Great Sea” of the Mother, with the planet Saturn.

Giordano Bruno portrayed each planet through seven phantasmagoric images. Meditation upon these images stimulates the imagination and memory, allowing a person to symbolically understand the influence or spirit of a given planet. A similar principle applies to tarot. For instance, Bruno’s first image of Saturn shows a man with a deer’s head riding a dragon. In his right hand, he holds an owl devouring a snake. One can research the meanings of such symbols in dictionaries, but more importantly, these images can be used in magical workings invoking Saturn’s influence. Through analogical thinking, one may arrange knowledge and experience in the corridors of memory based on their resemblance to these images. Thus, in Bruno’s first Saturnian image, one might place a series of events and concepts that resonate symbolically with its elements. This method, known as the art of memory, is central to occult practice. Such imagery represents one facet of Saturn’s spirit.

Another aspect is shown in a man riding a camel, holding a sickle in his right hand and a fish in his left. The third image shows a dark man in ceremonial black robes, palms raised. The fourth presents a dark man with camel feet seated on a winged dragon, holding a cypress branch. The fifth displays a dark figure in black, clutching a basilisk. The sixth shows an aged and lame man leaning on a staff, seated on a throne drawn by a mule and a donkey. The seventh and final image features a charioteer whose vehicle is pulled by two deer, holding a fish in one hand and a sickle in the other.

Through Bruno’s visions and Ficino’s insights, we gain a visually rich understanding of the classical Hermetic imagery associated with Saturn’s astromagical influence. And likewise, we can do the same for the other planets. Are these planetary images not a foundation for a certain kind of tarot? Have not many of these images already made their way into tarot cards?