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deathtocapslockWhy on earth should Astronomy be one of the seven mandatory subjects for five years at Hogwarts? (Though none of the Trio, not even Hermione, considered it worth further study.)
It’s a Muggle science, dammit! The first to attain that status in Western culture, no less—part of the Quadrivium, one of the Seven Liberal Arts. Next we’ll see wizards studying Logic!
What does the Muggle science of the sky have to do with magic?
Do we ever see astronomical observations actually used in the Potterverse?
The Centaurs certainly practice a form of Astrology—but they are scathingly dismissive of the human version of that art, claiming that only the fate of nations and races, never of individuals, can be read in the stars, and then not easily interpreted. What Sybil teaches as Astrology, they claim, is simple nonsense, human self-deception.
Moreover, Divination itself is an optional course, and one not well-regarded by all witches and wizards. In fact, particularly not well regarded by those most characterized by common sense and a desire for measurable results. Whereas Astronomy is a science, requiring exact and unbiased observation.
If the only or primary use for Astronomy were Astrology, one would think it would be taught simply as an adjunct to Divination—not even as an independent, much less as a mandatory, field of study.
Where else do we see Astronomical calculations come into play in the magical theory or practice taught at Hogwarts?
Well, the moon pops ups periodically. Werewolves transform in the light of the full moon. So knowing when the moon is full could save your life.
We further hear the moon mentioned in connection with two potions: Polyjuice Potion requires its fluxweed to be picked at the full moon. Then the leeches need to simmer for 21 days, so what with one thing and another, Polyjuice takes in total at least a lunar month to make.
While Veritaserum, Snape told Umbridge, requires “a moon cycle” to mature.
And then there’s Felix Felicis, which takes 6 months to brew. Er—is that 180 days, or 183, or six lunar months, or half a solar year, or what? (Or a particular half of a solar year, even?)
Well, and then there’s Alchemy, a subject NOT currently taught at Hogwarts (though Albus himself is not only a master, he apparently studied it at school in his time). Alchemy is full of Astrological references, which however are not taught under Albus’s leadership.
Whereas Divination is a subject (another subject) Albus considered dropping altogether.
So what is Astronomy good for? I don’t need to learn the constellations to keep track of when the moon is full, and that’s the only celestial phenomenon that we observe producing any significant magical impact.
Well, so what was Astronomy invented for? In the real world?
Well, for Astrology, partly.
But more—to accurately predict seasonal phenomena (in Egypt, the appearance of Sirius signaled the imminent rise of the Nile).
To correctly time seasonal rituals.
And to tell time and determine position accurately.
Before the GPS, celestial navigation was what one used to determine position, in the absence of known landmarks. (And also direction, if one had no compass.)
As for telling time—we moderns think of time as absolute numbers, shared by all the people in a time zone. Hours are of a set length, there are twenty-four of them in a day, you and I can both look at clocks and agree what time it is, even if you live on the far eastern edge of a time zone and I on the far western edge. Or in the polar region versus on the equator.
Even though our sunrises might, by the clock, be hours apart. Seven am—time to get up! Even if for you, it’s two and a half hours before dawn while for me it’s been light for an hour.
But the old idea of time was based on daylight. This idea of people in widely separated places keeping their clocks at the same time—that’s modern, contrived, and really rather silly. Without coordinated clocks and nearly-universal artificial lighting, the day naturally begins at sunrise (or at first light) and goes through sundown (or last light).
Islam still keeps to this idea in timing its prayers: local first light, dawn, midday (which will almost never be noon), midafternoon, sunset, and last light. And the pious check to be sure they’ve got the times right for their specific latitude and longitude as carefully as they orient themselves toward Mecca. The medieval Christian church did the same: Vespers started at sunset, Matins ended at dawn, Sext was supposed to correspond to midday. The Jewish calculations went even a little further—an “hour” was defined as one-twelfth of the day—as in period of daylight. So in high latitudes, summer hours were longer than winter ones.
And this view of time makes much more sense for magic, doesn’t it? There’s no apparent reason why a spell should work differently at 11:52 am than at 11:59:59 than at 12:19 pm, looking at the numbers, is there? Which are arbitrarily assigned anyhow, to 1/24th of the earth’s surface, and calibrated according to some Muggle device.
But that some spells might be most effective cast exactly at midday—whenever midday is locally—or precisely at midnight (not at 12 o’clock)—or that a ritual might ideally run from sunset to last light—well, that makes more sense.
And if so, then astronomy would be absolutely required to navigate the night hours (and to add precision to the day ones). Even if you had an extremely accurate clock (a distinctly modern innovation), it could still only tell you the time according to some arbitrary standard (Greenwich mean time, or Green Witch Time, or whatever). Knowing that won’t in itself tell you when it’s precisely midnight where you’re standing right now, or when it’s twenty-two minutes before moonrise (for a twenty-two-minute-and-one-second ritual that’s supposed to climax exactly as the moon appears).
But a sufficiently good grounding in Astronomy will. When this star is at this angle above the horizon in winter, then it’s an hour after sunset. And two people in different places, doing the same spell one hour after local sunset, can correctly do it at different times, each synchronizing with the earth itself rather than with an arbitrary timekeeper.
Which takes us, finally, to the testimony of Professor Snape—the only of his teachers that Harry ever noticed trying to give a theoretical underpinning to his lessons. Severus said something to Harry in Occlumency lessons that’s very germane here: “Space and time matter in magic.”
Well, is that true? Or rather, have we seen that be true?
Well, proximity matters to many spells—most that we see have to be cast line-of-sight. (Including run-of-the-mill Legilimency, which is the example Severus was discussing with Harry.) But, space in general? Location? Have we seen spells that required or benefitted from being cast in a certain place? Or that were hindered? (Apparition at Hogwarts, yes—but that’s a ban enforced, and lifted at will, by the headmaster.)
Really, if Severus simply meant that most spells required you to be close, he should just have said that!
And… time? When have we ever seen specific times be an issue in Potterverse magic?
Well—with that one dark creature, the werewolf. And with those three potions—what were they again?
Oh, yeah. Polyjuice, Veritaserum, and Felix.
All arguably Dark.
What were Professor Snape’s particular areas of expertise, again? Potions, mental magic, and… what?
In the Dark Arts, in ritual magic, one might call upon (or be acted on by) powers (or even Powers) outside oneself. And for that, space and time most definitely might matter. One might well sometimes need to be in the right place, in the right time, as well as in the right frame of mind.
(Tom chose to postpone his resurrection not just to use Harry’s blood but to stage it at night, dark of the moon, sun waning, in his father’s graveyard… random choices on his part? Procrastination and laziness? Because clearly it’s harder to steal, conceal, and transport a femur than a kidnapped celebrity, so he had to bring Harry to the bone…. As Tom also waited patiently until Samhain to attack the Potters, or picked the Lammas-Eve baby, the Holly King, as his greatest potential threat?)
If “space and time matter in [Dark} magic,” as we’ve no evidence either does in the magic taught in the present Hogwarts curriculum, then being able to orient oneself accurately in space and time on this earth—mastering practical Astronomy—would be a critically important base skill.
To anyone (say from the old families) still practicing the Old Arts.
Which, however, are no longer taught at Hogwarts, not even as electives.
Though the very oldest, richest, most influential families are still privately tutoring their children in them.
And these families would probably be annoyed if Astronomy—an uncongenial, highly technical subject rich in tables and calculations and exact observations—were suddenly added to their private tutorial burden.
Whereas the Muggleborns’ parents are just happy to see so comprehensible a subject as a respectable Muggle science appear on the Hogwarts syllabus. Even if it is an oddly specialized one.
So, my contention is that Astronomy was taught originally in conjunction with the Dark Arts. And its continued retention on the syllabus reflects mostly natural conservatism. We’ve always taught that; why should we stop now? But only those still practicing the Dark Arts actually regularly use it.
Which would be why that ultimate swot, Miss Granger, saw no need to keep up with her Astronomy. No magic that she’d been taught seemed to use it.
Little fool.
Or rather, poor little ignoramus.
It’s a Muggle science, dammit! The first to attain that status in Western culture, no less—part of the Quadrivium, one of the Seven Liberal Arts. Next we’ll see wizards studying Logic!
What does the Muggle science of the sky have to do with magic?
Do we ever see astronomical observations actually used in the Potterverse?
The Centaurs certainly practice a form of Astrology—but they are scathingly dismissive of the human version of that art, claiming that only the fate of nations and races, never of individuals, can be read in the stars, and then not easily interpreted. What Sybil teaches as Astrology, they claim, is simple nonsense, human self-deception.
Moreover, Divination itself is an optional course, and one not well-regarded by all witches and wizards. In fact, particularly not well regarded by those most characterized by common sense and a desire for measurable results. Whereas Astronomy is a science, requiring exact and unbiased observation.
If the only or primary use for Astronomy were Astrology, one would think it would be taught simply as an adjunct to Divination—not even as an independent, much less as a mandatory, field of study.
Where else do we see Astronomical calculations come into play in the magical theory or practice taught at Hogwarts?
Well, the moon pops ups periodically. Werewolves transform in the light of the full moon. So knowing when the moon is full could save your life.
We further hear the moon mentioned in connection with two potions: Polyjuice Potion requires its fluxweed to be picked at the full moon. Then the leeches need to simmer for 21 days, so what with one thing and another, Polyjuice takes in total at least a lunar month to make.
While Veritaserum, Snape told Umbridge, requires “a moon cycle” to mature.
And then there’s Felix Felicis, which takes 6 months to brew. Er—is that 180 days, or 183, or six lunar months, or half a solar year, or what? (Or a particular half of a solar year, even?)
Well, and then there’s Alchemy, a subject NOT currently taught at Hogwarts (though Albus himself is not only a master, he apparently studied it at school in his time). Alchemy is full of Astrological references, which however are not taught under Albus’s leadership.
Whereas Divination is a subject (another subject) Albus considered dropping altogether.
So what is Astronomy good for? I don’t need to learn the constellations to keep track of when the moon is full, and that’s the only celestial phenomenon that we observe producing any significant magical impact.
Well, so what was Astronomy invented for? In the real world?
Well, for Astrology, partly.
But more—to accurately predict seasonal phenomena (in Egypt, the appearance of Sirius signaled the imminent rise of the Nile).
To correctly time seasonal rituals.
And to tell time and determine position accurately.
Before the GPS, celestial navigation was what one used to determine position, in the absence of known landmarks. (And also direction, if one had no compass.)
As for telling time—we moderns think of time as absolute numbers, shared by all the people in a time zone. Hours are of a set length, there are twenty-four of them in a day, you and I can both look at clocks and agree what time it is, even if you live on the far eastern edge of a time zone and I on the far western edge. Or in the polar region versus on the equator.
Even though our sunrises might, by the clock, be hours apart. Seven am—time to get up! Even if for you, it’s two and a half hours before dawn while for me it’s been light for an hour.
But the old idea of time was based on daylight. This idea of people in widely separated places keeping their clocks at the same time—that’s modern, contrived, and really rather silly. Without coordinated clocks and nearly-universal artificial lighting, the day naturally begins at sunrise (or at first light) and goes through sundown (or last light).
Islam still keeps to this idea in timing its prayers: local first light, dawn, midday (which will almost never be noon), midafternoon, sunset, and last light. And the pious check to be sure they’ve got the times right for their specific latitude and longitude as carefully as they orient themselves toward Mecca. The medieval Christian church did the same: Vespers started at sunset, Matins ended at dawn, Sext was supposed to correspond to midday. The Jewish calculations went even a little further—an “hour” was defined as one-twelfth of the day—as in period of daylight. So in high latitudes, summer hours were longer than winter ones.
And this view of time makes much more sense for magic, doesn’t it? There’s no apparent reason why a spell should work differently at 11:52 am than at 11:59:59 than at 12:19 pm, looking at the numbers, is there? Which are arbitrarily assigned anyhow, to 1/24th of the earth’s surface, and calibrated according to some Muggle device.
But that some spells might be most effective cast exactly at midday—whenever midday is locally—or precisely at midnight (not at 12 o’clock)—or that a ritual might ideally run from sunset to last light—well, that makes more sense.
And if so, then astronomy would be absolutely required to navigate the night hours (and to add precision to the day ones). Even if you had an extremely accurate clock (a distinctly modern innovation), it could still only tell you the time according to some arbitrary standard (Greenwich mean time, or Green Witch Time, or whatever). Knowing that won’t in itself tell you when it’s precisely midnight where you’re standing right now, or when it’s twenty-two minutes before moonrise (for a twenty-two-minute-and-one-second ritual that’s supposed to climax exactly as the moon appears).
But a sufficiently good grounding in Astronomy will. When this star is at this angle above the horizon in winter, then it’s an hour after sunset. And two people in different places, doing the same spell one hour after local sunset, can correctly do it at different times, each synchronizing with the earth itself rather than with an arbitrary timekeeper.
Which takes us, finally, to the testimony of Professor Snape—the only of his teachers that Harry ever noticed trying to give a theoretical underpinning to his lessons. Severus said something to Harry in Occlumency lessons that’s very germane here: “Space and time matter in magic.”
Well, is that true? Or rather, have we seen that be true?
Well, proximity matters to many spells—most that we see have to be cast line-of-sight. (Including run-of-the-mill Legilimency, which is the example Severus was discussing with Harry.) But, space in general? Location? Have we seen spells that required or benefitted from being cast in a certain place? Or that were hindered? (Apparition at Hogwarts, yes—but that’s a ban enforced, and lifted at will, by the headmaster.)
Really, if Severus simply meant that most spells required you to be close, he should just have said that!
And… time? When have we ever seen specific times be an issue in Potterverse magic?
Well—with that one dark creature, the werewolf. And with those three potions—what were they again?
Oh, yeah. Polyjuice, Veritaserum, and Felix.
All arguably Dark.
What were Professor Snape’s particular areas of expertise, again? Potions, mental magic, and… what?
In the Dark Arts, in ritual magic, one might call upon (or be acted on by) powers (or even Powers) outside oneself. And for that, space and time most definitely might matter. One might well sometimes need to be in the right place, in the right time, as well as in the right frame of mind.
(Tom chose to postpone his resurrection not just to use Harry’s blood but to stage it at night, dark of the moon, sun waning, in his father’s graveyard… random choices on his part? Procrastination and laziness? Because clearly it’s harder to steal, conceal, and transport a femur than a kidnapped celebrity, so he had to bring Harry to the bone…. As Tom also waited patiently until Samhain to attack the Potters, or picked the Lammas-Eve baby, the Holly King, as his greatest potential threat?)
If “space and time matter in [Dark} magic,” as we’ve no evidence either does in the magic taught in the present Hogwarts curriculum, then being able to orient oneself accurately in space and time on this earth—mastering practical Astronomy—would be a critically important base skill.
To anyone (say from the old families) still practicing the Old Arts.
Which, however, are no longer taught at Hogwarts, not even as electives.
Though the very oldest, richest, most influential families are still privately tutoring their children in them.
And these families would probably be annoyed if Astronomy—an uncongenial, highly technical subject rich in tables and calculations and exact observations—were suddenly added to their private tutorial burden.
Whereas the Muggleborns’ parents are just happy to see so comprehensible a subject as a respectable Muggle science appear on the Hogwarts syllabus. Even if it is an oddly specialized one.
So, my contention is that Astronomy was taught originally in conjunction with the Dark Arts. And its continued retention on the syllabus reflects mostly natural conservatism. We’ve always taught that; why should we stop now? But only those still practicing the Dark Arts actually regularly use it.
Which would be why that ultimate swot, Miss Granger, saw no need to keep up with her Astronomy. No magic that she’d been taught seemed to use it.
Little fool.
Or rather, poor little ignoramus.
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no subject
Date: 2014-01-17 02:52 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-01-17 04:38 pm (UTC)But why the need to 'clear' classes in person. Why couldn't it be done over the summer by owl? Not that it matters much to today's discussion and Minerva did need to talk Neville into taking charms (I think it was). But it is clearly all a plot device that means Harry shows up needing a book.