Erich Fromm

Fire takes five of his ten planets, with two apiece in earth and air and a single one in water, and six of the ten are mutable. The Moon, Jupiter and Uranus fill twelve degrees of Sagittarius, the sign that measures a thing by how far it got from where it started. The record calls Fromm a German American psychoanalyst and names The Art of Loving.

Venus sits in quiet contact with Pluto at thirteen hundredths of a degree, close enough to call exact, which is depth in relating: loyalty that survives difficulty, and an instinct for what somebody actually needs. In the author of a book called The Art of Loving, taste and concentrated force in quiet agreement at thirteen hundredths of a degree is the contact that reaches the record, and it does so without anybody having to stretch.

The Sun sits a fifth of a turn from that same Pluto at four tenths, power that is usable rather than overwhelming, so both the Sun and Venus are tied to it. Mercury sits square Saturn at four fifths, thought meeting doubt and a mind that treats its own uncertainty as evidence of stupidity when it is usually evidence of care. The Sun sits on the third degree of Aries with Mercury on the sixth and retrograde, and the Moon answers from Sagittarius at twenty three, certain, needing room. It sits directly opposite Neptune at just over a degree and a third. In a psychoanalyst the record names for one book about love, the Sun and Venus both tied to the same planet is the arrangement worth printing.

He died at Muralto on 18 March 1980, at seventy nine. Neptune stood conjunct his natal Moon at just under a quarter of a degree that day and Saturn square the same natal Moon at four tenths, so the two slowest things working that day were both on the one placement his chart puts in the sign of distance. The Moon was new and four per cent lit.