As a work that is traditionally hailed as being antithetic to male comfort, I find that Germaine Greer’s “Female Eunuch” probably says more about the negative stereotyping of women by women than it does about men. Of course, she argues (throughout her writing) that this is merely the extension of a patriarchal tyranny, that culturally we accept some pretty astonishing subtexts as normal – when they are anything but – and our ingrained themes of sexual interaction, both inter and intra-sexually are pretty weird. That is as much as I can say easily because I am not a scholar of feminism, I have not read her works exhaustively and I am a man (I guess) and I have been told (by more than one radical feminist I have known) that I lack the insight of subjectivity, so I can comment, but I cannot truly experience.
Fair enough. I have no issue, but neither am I apologising; I do the best that I can, I treat women as absolute equals (insofar as I am able with a lifetime of cultural programming in tow) and in fact I much prefer the company of women as a generalisation than I do of men. I also found that in circa 1987 when I first read large swathes of The Female Eunuch that it seemed fundamentally out of date in parts even then. The book belonged to my dear friend Vicki who is a (somewhat) radical feminist; at least she never shaves any part of her anatomy and neither does she wear a bra although I cannot attest to whether or not she has physically burned it. I also spent one summer acting as an observer for CND in the late 1980s, a job which required me to sit outside of RAF Greenham Common from 4am until midday in a car and watch for any missile transports. I eventually got to know several of the women on that camp and they of course had built a community which more or less excluded men completely. One of those women, Pippa, a slightly loony ex-midwife at least twice my age became a good friend and although I lost touch with her a few years hence. I talked to her once about psychology, which I studied at University and beyond, and she quoted Germaine Greer to me during that discussion, she said: “Freud is the father of psychoanalysis. It has no mother.”
It has since occurred to me that the same sentiments are found in the study of astrology, with Sun, Mars, Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus, Neptune and Pluto all being essentially male energies; Mercury is possibly male but at best androgynous, leaving (traditionally) only Moon and Venus to speak for the feminine. How patently ridiculous that is, but also, and thankfully, it is a situation that is gradually being addressed with the inclusion of Pallas, Ceres, Vesta and Juno into the mainstream of astrological thinking. In terms of psychoanalysis I often think of Freud as Saturn, Jung as Uranus, but there are no essential feminine powers because (as Pippa told me) even psychology is fundamentally masculine. In my view, psychology falls down in all sorts of places, but astrology does not have to fall into the same trap. Traditionalists will disagree of course, but that to me is resonant of the self-same dichotomy between psychoanalysis and behaviourism in psychology; they are utterly incompatible systems that are mixed through long habit, not through best practise.
It is for this reason that I believe a whole new avenue of astrological research is opening up. It will evolve into something meaningful in step with the onward march toward acceptance of the divine feminine in human society, and even at a personal level I am doubly compressed, by my innate astrological dissociation complex, and by a society that can only accept my male sexuality as a narrow spectrum of aggression that identifies with cars, jobs, bunny girls and team sports.
Back to the (very brief) astrology of Germaine Greer then. I have not included Eris, but of course she sits at the trined midpoint of Ma/Pl. A near fanatic mischief-maker? Undoubtedly! With Scorpio Midheaven, there is a calling to deal with sexuality, and with Mars in the anaretic degree of Scorpio the impetus to tip over from sex and control to freedom and equality is self-evident. Mercury opposes Pluto, which explains her need to tell it unadorned (just like good old blood and guts Patton remember?) but here a trine to Neptune softens, refines and takes all the edges off. Moon is conjunct Uranus too: and that alone says “radical feminism” right?
So, Germaine Greer: with a grand trine to the Midheaven and peregrine Saturn in Aries in the 3rd, may you keep going it alone and telling it like it is until your last breath, because whilst you’re quite clearly a nutjob, you’re also brilliant, beautiful and absolutely, undeniably genuine.
I read the original mythology regarding the abduction of Persephone was in fact distorted. She went to the underworld voluntarily but the Greeks masculinised her form into a Pluto.
Is Pluto a masculine energy?
That’s an interesting idea Kelly. You seem to be saying that Persephone and Hades have been confused and that she was not in fact abducted into Tartarus but instead that she *is* Hades.
I am not sure I see the need for the confusion. If anything the abduction itself may be debatable, possibly Persephone went voluntarily with Hades, the story is then one of a willing submission to death and the themes of rape and domination are not then included. The myth of Persephone and by extension that of Demeter is though an allegory for the seasons, if Persephone was in fact Hades personified then there would be no requirement for her to return each spring and make the earth fruitful again.
Is Pluto masculine? I would say, as a brother of Zeus and Neptune, yes, although he rather subverts concepts of gender in my view.
I’ve been working and loving astrology since 1980. Keeping it in close rings for family and friends, i found myself extremely puzzled last month with a B.Lundsted book stating that because my youngest daughter has moon conjunct uranus, i “didn’t teach or show her what a woman should be”. That sentence troubled me to the core. I am a woman all right but NOW i am wondering (at 52) what the hell is a woman… Then i realized that this astrologer whilst blooming in the 60’s, is from another era or as you put it “the extension of patriarchal tyranny drives negative stereotypes of women by women”. So here i am looking for feminist astrology (which seems non-existent in France) that could help me help my daugthers. I was a victim of domestic abuse as a child and as a woman and i am today trying to break that cycle of violence and free my girls. So, i deseperately need enlightment, references, books about an astrology with women NOT being slaves but just other human beings.
I see this thread is almost 10 years old but i’m reaching out anyway. Your wide intelligence is like a sunny morning at “Howard’s end” so perhaps you have the cognition of my quest.
(If my english is quaint it is because i’m french : )
Avec mes respectueuses salutations,
p.s: Before Persephone was abducted her name was Kore. She was 14, a child. She is not Hades. Her allegory is the one of adolescence, not death. Some will see it that way for they feel that adolescence is the end of childhood but it’s merely the expression of the beginning of seeking sexuality. This mythology also represents the wholesome departure of children from the mother’s nest. Hence the despair of Demeter who doesn’t know what to do with her life and go through the turmoil of becoming herself. Greek mythology is awesome : )