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Saturn Through the Ages: Between Time and Eternity
A historical overview of Saturn's meaning in the history of astrology, combined with a philosophical background to help the fullness of the traditional meaning of Saturn come through in the modern world.
- GenresAstrologyNonfiction
250 pages, Paperback
Published December 9, 2019
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Displaying 1 - 2 of 2 reviews
July 25, 2025
“Do not castrate Kronos—Ouranos has already suffered that fate, and quite spectacularly at that.”
Assuming the author’s Christian leanings (and they are rather evident), I can at least respect the sincerity of his view. But from a Heathen—or shall I say, Orphic—perspective, I approach the Saturnine sphere with far less sanitized reverence and far more esoteric precision.
I found nothing un-Saturnine in this work. No surprise, as it was written by a mortal man (yes, a man, not a myth), laboring under the weight of the Saturnine Sphere. His individuation, much like his prose, seems obedient to that current. He’s done his homework, I grant him that. The writing is dry—gloriously so. Rigid, plain, perhaps unintentionally charming in its academic aridity. As a fellow traveller, I appreciate the discipline, if not always the flair.
On historicity and his attempts to escape the shadow of malevolent Saturnine frameworks—well, allow me to betray a secret (one he might’ve stumbled upon had he gone deeper): the Mithraic gold of Pater Patrum is Saturnine. So is the Sumerian Il-Anu. To the noble soul, it opens the gates to stars. To the dilettante? A lovely little abyss. It reveals its imperial face to those walking this path properly, with love and torment and total dissolution. And yes—some of us know that the Egyptians called it “Horus of the Twin Horizons.” One must applaud Mr. Obert for almost knowing.
In fact, I agree entirely with the paradigm—just not always the execution. As a magical realist (with the decency to believe in ontological forces), I see what he was trying to do: to enchant the world again, gently, like an old man whispering myths over weak tea. A noble pursuit, truly.
I found no grievous fault in the work—merely agreeable snippets of thought in bold, commendably unannoying. It’s a pleasant interlude in a library, a small Saturnine bonbon alongside greater tomes on theology, myth, art, symbolism, and—dare I dream?—actual depth.
Alas, when he turns to ethics and philosophy, we descend. Questions requiring intellectual weight and spiritual training are handled with all the finesse of a Saturn Return crisis at Burning Man. One might suggest, gently or not, that he focus on astrology, where he shows more promise, rather than donning the mask of philosophical sage—especially when the mask is made of papier-mâché.
At sixty-something, one might expect a bit more gravitas, a touch more lived Saturn. It seems he began his Saturnine walk not in the fires of youth, but in the embers of late middle age—hence the relative lack of experience and the overconfidence in place of gnosis.
With cruel nobility, I wish him a hundred more incarnations upon this Earth—may he walk this path again and again until, finally, Saturn opens its gates to him in full. Not out of spite, of course. Out of love—the hard kind.
Assuming the author’s Christian leanings (and they are rather evident), I can at least respect the sincerity of his view. But from a Heathen—or shall I say, Orphic—perspective, I approach the Saturnine sphere with far less sanitized reverence and far more esoteric precision.
I found nothing un-Saturnine in this work. No surprise, as it was written by a mortal man (yes, a man, not a myth), laboring under the weight of the Saturnine Sphere. His individuation, much like his prose, seems obedient to that current. He’s done his homework, I grant him that. The writing is dry—gloriously so. Rigid, plain, perhaps unintentionally charming in its academic aridity. As a fellow traveller, I appreciate the discipline, if not always the flair.
On historicity and his attempts to escape the shadow of malevolent Saturnine frameworks—well, allow me to betray a secret (one he might’ve stumbled upon had he gone deeper): the Mithraic gold of Pater Patrum is Saturnine. So is the Sumerian Il-Anu. To the noble soul, it opens the gates to stars. To the dilettante? A lovely little abyss. It reveals its imperial face to those walking this path properly, with love and torment and total dissolution. And yes—some of us know that the Egyptians called it “Horus of the Twin Horizons.” One must applaud Mr. Obert for almost knowing.
In fact, I agree entirely with the paradigm—just not always the execution. As a magical realist (with the decency to believe in ontological forces), I see what he was trying to do: to enchant the world again, gently, like an old man whispering myths over weak tea. A noble pursuit, truly.
I found no grievous fault in the work—merely agreeable snippets of thought in bold, commendably unannoying. It’s a pleasant interlude in a library, a small Saturnine bonbon alongside greater tomes on theology, myth, art, symbolism, and—dare I dream?—actual depth.
Alas, when he turns to ethics and philosophy, we descend. Questions requiring intellectual weight and spiritual training are handled with all the finesse of a Saturn Return crisis at Burning Man. One might suggest, gently or not, that he focus on astrology, where he shows more promise, rather than donning the mask of philosophical sage—especially when the mask is made of papier-mâché.
At sixty-something, one might expect a bit more gravitas, a touch more lived Saturn. It seems he began his Saturnine walk not in the fires of youth, but in the embers of late middle age—hence the relative lack of experience and the overconfidence in place of gnosis.
With cruel nobility, I wish him a hundred more incarnations upon this Earth—may he walk this path again and again until, finally, Saturn opens its gates to him in full. Not out of spite, of course. Out of love—the hard kind.
December 23, 2025
I think it's interesting that my working knowledge of astrology has expanded over time. I guess a way to summarize this is that there is an old tradition, well-established astrology that's less glamorous and a modern one that's more bent of psycho analysis personality and bent to our contemporary ways of seeing the world. this new astrology is also affected by consumerism and this dangerous drug we are all imbibing on that tells us there's no limits, not on the solar system. there's a fundamental rejection and negation of the planet Saturn, as the ruler of boundaries, death, and restriction, responsibility and religious wisdom in this new astrology and in our society. new astrologers talk about daddy Saturn as a stern parent and those ruled by "benefic" planets like Jupiter and Venus sneer at this whose fate is written to be full of "setbacks" and hardship. it's worth asking "where are we going?" because all of this is a conversation on climate, conservation, and the earth as well. it's also about aggrandizing the ego of the human, knowing no bounds, and it's a psychosis we are all forced to deal with with the imbedding of artificial intelligence centers everywhere. where are we going? the reality of limit is there whether we acknowledge it or not
Displaying 1 - 2 of 2 reviews