Chapter Ⅵ

The Zodiac — Wheel of the Sun

Twelve figures standing along the Sun's yearly road — Babylonian bookkeeping that the Greeks dressed in myth. “Zodiac” means “circle of little animals”. Leo, Scorpius, Sagittarius and Aquarius appeared above; here is the rest of the wheel.

Aries — the Golden Ram

The ram of the Golden Fleece.

Sent by the gods to rescue the children Phrixus and Helle from a murderous stepmother, the flying golden ram carried them east — Helle fell into the strait named for her ever after, the Hellespont. Its golden fleece, hung in a sacred grove in Colchis and guarded by a sleepless dragon, became the target of Jason and the Argonauts (their ship sails in Chapter Ⅶ).

A faint constellation with a giant historical role: it once held the vernal equinox — the “First Point of Aries” where the Sun crosses into spring. Precession has moved the point into Pisces, but astronomers kept the old name.

In the sky: three stars in a bent line between Pisces and Taurus; brightest is Hamal — Arabic for “the lamb”.

Taurus — the Bull

Zeus in disguise, swimming to Crete with a princess on his back.

To reach the Phoenician princess Europa, Zeus became a snow-white bull so gentle she climbed onto his back — and he plunged into the sea, carrying her to Crete. Her name now covers a continent. Only the bull's front half is drawn: the rest swims below the horizon.

The bull's face is the V-shaped Hyades cluster; his furious red eye is Aldebaran — Arabic al-Dabarān, “the follower”, because it follows the Pleiades across the sky: the Seven Sisters riding on the bull's shoulder, the most famous star cluster of all. On the tip of one horn sits the Crab Nebula — wreckage of a supernova Chinese astronomers watched explode in 1054.

In the sky: follow Orion's Belt up and right to Aldebaran. The Pleiades answer to “how many can you count?” — six easily, more under dark skies.

Gemini — the Twins

One mortal, one immortal — who refused to be separated.

Castor the horseman and Pollux the boxer: twin brothers of Helen, born of one mother but two fathers — one human, one Zeus. When mortal Castor was killed, Pollux begged to share his own immortality with his brother. Zeus's compromise: they alternate together, one day in Hades, one day on Olympus — and shine side by side in the sky.

Sailors prayed to the Twins; the glow of St Elmo's fire on masts was their blessing. The “twin” stars are actually unalike: Pollux an orange giant, Castor a dance of six stars bound in one point of light.

In the sky: two bright stars a thumb-width apart, standing over Orion's raised arm all winter.

Cancer — the Crab

The sidekick who got squashed — and immortalised.

Hera's crab from the Hydra fight (Chapter Ⅲ): it pinched Heracles' heel, was crushed underfoot, and received the sky's most modest zodiac constellation as a consolation prize — the faintest of the twelve.

Its hidden treasure: M44, the Beehive cluster — to ancient eyes a mysterious “little cloud” called the Manger, flanked by two donkey-stars feeding from it. Its visibility was a weather oracle: when the Manger faded, rain was coming.

In the sky: a dim upside-down Y between Gemini and Leo; the Beehive is a fine binocular target.

Virgo — the Maiden

Justice, the last immortal to abandon the Earth.

Usually Astraea (or Dike), goddess of justice, who lived among humans in the Golden Age. As the ages decayed — gold to silver to bronze, each crueller than the last — she withdrew step by step, and at the coming of the iron age flew to the sky, holding her scales (Libra, next door). Others see Demeter of the harvest, or Persephone whose yearly return brings spring.

She holds an ear of wheat: the star Spica — in Arabic al-Simāk al-Aʿzal, “the unarmed Simak”. Behind her lies the Virgo Cluster: thousands of galaxies, the heart of our cosmic neighbourhood.

In the sky: continue the Dipper's arc past Arcturus: “arc to Arcturus, then spike to Spica”.

Libra — the Scales

The youngest zodiac figure — cut from the scorpion's claws.

The only zodiac constellation that is an object, not a creature. For the Greeks these stars were simply the claws of Scorpius; the Romans clipped them off to make the scales of justice, held by neighbouring Virgo/Astraea.

The amputation is still on record in the star names — pure Arabic: Zubenelgenubi (al-zubānā al-janūbī, “the southern claw”) and Zubeneschamali (“the northern claw”). The sky remembers what the figure forgot.

In the sky: a quiet diamond west of Scorpius; Zubeneschamali is reputed to be the only naked-eye star some observers call greenish.

Ophiuchus — the 13th Sign

Asclepius, the healer who cured death itself.

Taught medicine by the centaur Chiron, Asclepius grew so skilled he began raising the dead. Hades complained of the falling head-count; Zeus struck the physician down with a thunderbolt — then honoured him among the stars, gripping the great Serpent whose shed skin taught him renewal. His serpent-staff remains medicine's symbol today.

The Sun crosses Ophiuchus every year (Nov 30 – Dec 18) — spending more days here than in Scorpius. It is the “13th zodiac constellation” astrology quietly ignores.

In the sky: a huge dim pentagon between Scorpius and Hercules, splitting the Serpent into two halves — head west, tail east.

Capricornus — the Sea-Goat

Pan, caught mid-transformation.

When the monster Typhon attacked Olympus, the gods fled in animal shapes. The goat-god Pan dove into the Nile mid-change: goat above the waterline, fish below. The gods found the result funny enough to keep forever.

The joke is far older than Greece: the goat-fish was the symbol of Ea, Babylonian god of waters and wisdom, four thousand years ago — one of the oldest constellation figures in continuous use. In 1846 the planet Neptune was first spotted just inside this constellation, exactly where mathematics said it must be.

In the sky: a faint smile-shaped triangle in the autumn “Sea” region, west of Aquarius.

Pisces — the Fishes

Mother and son, tied together so the sea cannot part them.

Fleeing the same monster Typhon, Aphrodite and Eros leapt into the Euphrates and became fish — first tying their tails together with a cord so they could not lose each other in the current. The knot-star is Alrescha, Arabic al-rishāʾ, “the rope”.

Faint but historically central: Pisces now holds the vernal equinox — the spot where the Sun stands on the first day of spring, inherited from Aries by precession.

In the sky: two cords of dim stars meeting in a V below Pegasus's Square; the western fish is a small ring called the Circlet.