The Language of Alchemy

In alchemy, the lost royal art, there is a language that has crept into the vernacular that you may recognize. If you've ever been told to turn lemons into lemonade, or that you're full of sulpher dust, or ever heard the phrases 'the philosopher's stone', 'aqua vitae', or 'spiritus mundi', then you've had some exposure to alchemy. Granted, most of these phrases would mainly pop up in medieval literature and before. But if you've ever had the urge to turn something bad into something good, then you've experienced the magic of this art.

Today, much is made of the psychological aspects of alchemy, and from what I've gathered, you don't see much written about the operative form of the art where you would set up a laboratory with alembics and furnaces and begin the great work of turning lead into gold. This is largely due to modernization and organic chemistry, but mostly, in my view, is due to Carl Gustav Jung. Jung wrote a book running into nine hundred pages plus about the aspects and symbolism of alchemy and how those apply to the modern psyche. He carries forward a rich tradition, which arguably began with Hermes Trismegistos, the thrice greatest, and which has continued, sometimes more often than not, secretively, down through the ages even to us in our postmodern age.

In alchemy, the seven ptolemaic planets are associated with various metals. From memory, Saturn is lead, Jupiter is tin, Mars is iron, Mercury and Moon are silver, the Sun is gold and so on. The seven planets beginning with Saturn and working to the moon are ranged from most to least powerful in order, but curiously, the metals beginning with Saturn again and working to the Moon, are associated in the opposite order, where the most base, lead, is associated with Saturn the most powerful, and working it's way to silver, more precious, in the moon, least powerful. In other words, there is a 'mirror' effect at play here.

Ironically, no pun intended, iron was the metal of choice to be manufactured over gold before the middle ages, as it was used to make tools and armor and weapons. Later, in the medieval times, the literature speaks of eschewing 'vulgar gold', the kind that would line your empty pockets with some quick cash, for the 'philosopher's gold', which is a spiritual, wholly redeemed state. So even before modern times, the psychological aspect of alchemy was already in the works.

I find the study of alchemy rewarding, if for no other reason than it's assigning meaning to what we consider to be arbitrary physical entities. The planets take on aspects and are charged with personalities that modern science would scoff at. A heaven is imagined, in the planets which move and change, which fixes the earth and it's inhabitants and rules man's soul and body. The fixed stars beyond these and in the firmament, are seen as 'more' eternal since they don't change, and are said, in alchemy, to guide the eternal spirit housed in us each and every one.

Suddenly, the skies are filled with personalities, agents of action, and a harmony can be realized, where you're not just staring at a globular cluster in a photo sent back from Hubble. The universe is not seen as mostly empty, black and boundaryless space, populated here and there by astronomical objects, but instead is charged with meaningful and more, purposeful objects that effect our lives in various ways.

Now.

I do not read my horoscope. I don't think my free will is hemmed in and constrained by some planet I've never been to or seen.

But.

I do find it interesting that there is a harmony between the heavens and the earth that has been lost to most of us, and that we are just given dead, lifeless clusters millions of lightyears away that make us feel more and more insignificant the more we look at them.

And perhaps I like the intuitive way this art works, for example in that when I feel 'leaden', I really do feel base and heavy burdened, and that conversely, when I feel 'ight' I can imagine myself being made of pure silver, and being shiny with no corrosive nature to myself or others around me.

This type of thinking, and this kind of language, for me, makes heaven reappear, where modern astronomy had all but dissolved the skies into a vast nothingness and endless parade of random, albeit at time beautiful objects.