Lucy Looking Upward

In what I hope will be a more frequent occurrence for my blog in the future, I thought it would be interesting to write astrologically about things that coincide with my coursework, since after all, astrology and pretty much everything in the world are not mutually exclusive. In my biopsych class, we just finished the unit on reproductive behaviors, in which we covered intersexuality and gender identity, and I remembered that in an anthropology class a few years ago we’d read a primary source written by an intersex individual, Herculine Barbin, in the 1860’s, so for extra credit in biopsych I did a presentation on the case. Herculine Barbin’s memoirs are pretty well-known; they were found in the archives of the French Department of Public Hygiene by Michel Foucault, they were the basis for the novel Middlesex, and November 8th, Herculine Barbin’s birthday, has actually been designated as Intersex Solidarity Day, in which LGBTQ organizations are encouraged to raise awareness about intersexuality and further efforts not to pathologize intersex conditions. They’re so well-known, in fact, that Herculine Barbin’s natal chart is actually in the AstroDataBank, which pleased me enormously. So I thought that in the spirit of Intersex Solidarity Day, in addition to the scientific analysis I did of the memoirs, I might add an astrological analysis too.

First, a brief biography. Herculine Barbin was born November 8th, 1838, in Saint-Jean-d’Angély, France, and raised as a girl. Her father died when she was very young, probably not even five years old, and she and her mother lived in poverty for most of her childhood. However, there was a hospital attached to an Ursuline convent in the town in which she lived, and at about age seven, she was given an opportunity to study at the convent school. Herculine (who was also affectionately called “Alexina” or “Camille”) did extremely well in school and quite enjoyed it. She briefly left school at age fifteen to work as a handmaid alongside her mother, but with the encouragement of her employers resumed school at age seventeen, being accepted to a very selective teacher’s college. After passing her examinations and receiving her teaching certificate, she was almost immediately placed as a teacher in a girls’ boarding school. There she met her dear friend Sara, another teacher and the headmistress’ daughter, who would later become her lover. Their relationship was kept secret for pretty much the entire duration, although it was always viewed with a suspect eye by the students and school officials. Herculine was passionately devoted to Sara, but still felt twinges of guilt over the forbidden nature of the relationship; she even spoke of her feelings of attraction to women during confession to a priest at the school, who promptly berated and insulted her in between telling her how many Hail Marys to say, which did nothing to reassure her. The real scandal, however, would come when Herculine was twenty-one. She had been suffering from chronic abdominal pains, but having been a sick child and wanting to appear strong, she downplayed them. Sara, however, was concerned and alerted her mother the headmistress to call a doctor, who discovered upon examining Herculine that (to the surprise of everyone, even Herculine herself) she was not actually a she after all. The findings were confirmed by another doctor in Herculine’s hometown, and to avoid further scandal and protect the school’s reputation, he (formerly she) would have to leave quietly, with the majority of the school community believing that “she” was leaving to become a nun. His sex was legally reassigned to male, his name was changed from Herculine to Abel Barbin, and he moved to Paris, where he worked as a railroad worker, a valet, and other odd jobs while struggling to adapt to his new gender identity. Abel wrote his memoirs at approximately age twenty-five, which become increasingly bleak as he describes living alone and away from everything and everyone he had ever known. At age thirty, Abel Barbin was found dead in his shabby Paris apartment. He had committed suicide by asphyxiation in his charcoal stove, leaving only his writings.

(From this point on, to avoid confusion, I will refer to Barbin as “Herculine,” but I will use the pronoun “he.”) In the medical dossier and autopsy report (which are published along with the memoirs), and even in Foucault’s commentary, it is never clearly defined what type of intersex condition Herculine Barbin had, beyond “male pseudohermaphroditism”- probably because they did not know as much about the hundreds of different variations that exist as we do today. Herculine describes himself as having a flat chest and slim hips, not resembling in any way the figures of his female classmates. He writes about how as a female, he was embarrassed about his abundant body hair, and went so far as to trim his facial hair and cover his arms and legs whenever possible. It is easy to understand why he would have been believed to be female his entire life- he appeared to have female genitalia with a larger than normal clitoris. However, although he did have a shallow vaginal opening, his “clitoris” was actually a two-inch penis with only the glans protruding from folds of skin, and his “labia” was actually a divided scrotum with one descended testicle; the other testicle had not descended, hence his chronic abdominal pain. Herculine never menstruated, and upon his autopsy, they discovered that he indeed had no ovaries or uterus, but that his testes produced sperm. From what I had learned about intersex conditions, it sounded like he had something called 5-ª reductase deficiency, which is where a biological male is missing an enzyme that converts testosterone into dihydrotestosterone, which is necessary for masculinizing male genitals. So what will happen is that from birth onwards, it will appear that the child is female- until puberty, at which point the body makes increased amounts of another enzyme that converts more testosterone, accounting for rapid maturation of male genitals. So Herculine matured normally for a pubescent male, even though his external genitals still looked basically female. Still, that’s only a guess. But regardless, it’s a fascinating story historically and scientifically, and it’s no less fascinating astrologically.

Herculine Barbin's natal chart- November 8, 1838, Saint-Jean-d'Angély, France (Courtesy of AstroDataBank)

I know that some people believe that a chart can reveal gender and sexual orientation; I personally don’t, and this chart is a really strong example of why. It’s also part of the reason that I won’t just do cold reads on charts without knowing the person’s gender, which I’ve been asked to do before- because even though the same symbols can present themselves in multiple charts, they play out differently according to familial, social, and cultural norms expected for that individual’s gender. It sounds so freaking obvious, right? But so many astrologers and novices completely ignore them when interpreting charts, oversimplifying the aspects’ implications for the sake of “the astrology” and ultimately disregarding the individual’s experience. For instance, take Herculine Barbin’s Mars in Virgo in the 1st House. Without paying attention to gender, you could say that someone with that placement has a strong personality, an exacting mind and focused drive, and a distinctive way of saying exactly what they mean. That’s good… right? But then again, look at the cultural context. In 1838, that would have be applauded in a boy, but not necessarily something worth noting in a girl- unless it was getting her into trouble. And as humans, we have an inexplicable tendency to assume the best possible scenario whenever we can. So if you didn’t know the gender, it’s likely that you might see this chart and assume this individual was male. Well, he was- but he was raised as a female in exclusively female environments until age twenty-one. So how do you explain that? Context is everything.

Starting with that Mars in Virgo in the 1st, I also have to point out that I don’t always think the Ascendant and the 1st House are total indicators of physical appearance either, but it is interesting that Herculine’s appearance was, while primarily androgynous, definitely less typically female than it was male. He wasn’t well-known for his beauty, but he definitely stood out for being smart and driven, which helped to advance him as far as he did in his education and into one of the only acceptable careers for women at the time. This placement and also his full-up 3rd House (where the Sun, his chart ruler, Mercury and Venus live) were probably what drove him to actually pen his experiences and his depressed mental state. He couldn’t possibly know that his memoirs would be the most important primary account of intersexuality in Western history, but someone with those placements and his level of intellect wouldn’t record his life story if he didn’t think it would someday be useful for something. While we’re on the subject of his 3rd House Scorpio stellium, let’s notice how it makes an inconjunct to Pluto in Aries on the 9th House cusp. The Scorpio/Pluto emphasis not only highlights the taboo sexual nature of his whole story, and how it was viewed by the medical establishment and the press at the time as more salacious than clinically significant, but also the way it came to light in the 20th century. I see Michel Foucault as being a direct agent of Pluto in Herculine’s natal chart- Foucault, a philosopher (9th House) who among other things did critical work on the relationship between sexuality and power (Pluto) literally unearthed Herculine’s memoirs, medical dossier and autopsy report by accident while perusing the Department of Hygiene’s archives. Quite a happy accident, no? Something that was largely misunderstood in its own time found relevance in an entirely new cultural context, which fits nicely with the notion of the inconjunct as being a sort of “adjustment.”

Other interesting observations: his Moon in Leo in the 12th House makes an opposition to his Neptune in Aquarius in the 6th House, and this opposition makes a T-square to his Venus in Scorpio (which is in detriment) in the 3rd House. Also, his Mars in the 1st House opposes his Uranus in Pisces in the 7th House. The biggest stress Herculine suffered prior to discovering his intersexuality was trying to reconcile the love he felt for his Catholic faith and his religious institutions with the love he felt for women, particularly for his friend Sara. A 12th House Moon shows someone whose emotions are not totally externally apparent but are nonetheless deeply felt, and they also indicate a strong spiritual lean. Herculine loved the Catholic Church, and the nuns who raised him. He bore no grudge against the institution that ultimately rejected him, even later in life as a man, although interestingly, the only animosity he does reveal is directed towards men- the curé of the boarding school, to whom he confessed only to be shamed, and the doctors who dealt with him so insensitively and patronizingly. In his later writings, he regrets the stealth and caution with which he handled his relationship with Sara, in the hopes of concealing it from her mother the headmistress. “Here again my inexperience was my undoing,” he writes. “I cannot doubt that if I had known how to manage the situation… today, perhaps, I would be her [the headmistress'] son-in-law.” An important distinction I made in my presentation for class was that sexual assignment and sexual orientation are not one and the same- that is, Herculine did not like women because he was actually a man. Whether or not he had ever discovered the true nature of his biology, Herculine would have regardless been attracted to women- an attraction which was, unfortunately, fraught with anxiety for him either way. It stood up against his faith, his sense of family, his social standing, and even his own sense of self, or at least what he thought he should be.

I’m not sure if Herculine had had his Saturn return yet when he died at age thirty, but there is additional tragedy in his death as far as his Nodes go. His South Node in Libra in the 2nd House, conjunct Jupiter, completely and accurately describes his early experience: he always felt safe and well-loved among other girls in his friendships and later in his love relationship with Sara- but nonetheless, it was draining and difficult, because unbeknownst to him, it was not who he truly was. His North Node in Aries in the 8th House happened for him forcefully- literally thrust out of his comfort zone, he used his newfound male independence without familiar companionship to plunge into the depths of his soul through writing his memoirs, but he was unhappy; he unfortunately ended his life before he could fully come into his own as a man, enjoying the same kind of confidence and peace of mind he did as a young girl. The only thing that was able to nurture and sustain him was his 12th House Leo Moon, his unwavering love for God- “…You remain to me, my God!” he writes. “…Though I am a sad disinherited creature, I can still lift up my eyes to You, for You at least will not reject me!”