Tove Jansson

Water takes four of her ten planets, air three, earth two and a single one fire. Six of the ten sit in the last four degrees of their signs, which is the most striking thing about this chart before a single angle is measured and means nothing whatever, since where a planet falls inside a sign is a matter of the calendar. Jansson was a Finnish writer and the record credits her with the Moomins.

Three contacts here sit inside a tenth of a degree, which is very tight wiring for one birth, and Venus is in two of them. It sits square Saturn at three hundredths of a degree, which is affection meeting a wall and the habit of withholding first rather than being refused, and sixty degrees from Neptune at a tenth, which is compassionate love and a real gift for beauty, colour and music. For a writer who was also an illustrator, those two at those orbs are the chart's whole argument: the generosity and the guardedness are the same planet.

Saturn sits in quiet contact with Neptune at eight hundredths of a degree, the third of the three, which is imagination made durable, faith that survives being examined, and artists who finish what they begin. The Sun sits at sixteen degrees of Leo, where identity is unusually solid and unusually visible. Her Moon sits at twenty six degrees of Pisces at noon, close enough to the next sign that it may have reached Aries, which costs this chart both of its T-squares, so neither is used here.

She died at Helsinki on 27 June 2001, at eighty six. Jupiter stood square her natal Mars at three tenths of a degree that day, with Saturn in easy contact with her natal Uranus at under nine tenths and Neptune conjunct that same natal Uranus from a degree further out. The Moon was a crescent at forty one per cent, the phase that pushes against the weight of how a thing has always been done.