•
A few words on Jonas. In the section “The Sailor Who Fell From the Sky” I wrote of Jonas, “In Yesod, he apparently becomes fully biological; then he returns to Urth and becomes a soldier while searching for Jolenta, only to die of a disease. Resurrected by Severian, he takes on the new name of Miles.”
While that is possible, I now think it is more likely that the ghost of Jonas is drawn into the soldier’s body. I do not know if it displaces the other ghost or if the body has two. That is, bringing the ghost of Jonas into a fully biological body is fulfilling Jonas’s deep wish, and it happens at that moment, not before. If Jonas had returned to Urth already repaired, I cannot see why he would become a soldier and write undeliverable letters to Jolenta. The soldier wrote letters to someone who was not Jolenta.
As I wrote in Lexicon Urthus, Second Edition: “there seem to be two souls in that man’s body. Jonas’s soul was drawn down into the body of the anonymous dead soldier when Severian used the Claw upon the corpse” (“Miles” entry).
Naming the Star of Gene Wolfe’s The Fifth Head of Cerberus
This is for those who persist in playing with books; those who come up with answers to impossible questions, along the lines of “What song do the Sirens sing?”
Gene Wolfe’s novel The Fifth Head of Cerberus (1972) has a lot of puzzling little details that we use to answer mysteries and make up new ones. Most of these mysteries have to do with identity, sense of self versus sense of other, and other nebulous mazy things like that. This is what the novel is rightly famous for. But in a completely different direction, there are also many details about the twin planets (Ste. Anne and Ste. Croix) and the star they orbit, and at times it seems to me that I know exactly which star this is.
Then I lie down for a while and the mood passes.
In 5HC we learn the distance from Sol, the direction from Sol, the distance of the twin planets from their primary star, and key qualities of the primary. As part of my exercise I am going to rely heavily upon the seminal Planets for Man (1964) by Dole and Asimov as a good benchmark of what scientific thinking of the time was.
Distance from Sol
Dr. Marsch says, “The trip from here to Earth requires twenty years of Newtonian time; only six months subjectively for me, of course” (64). This suggests two things: that the target star is within twenty light years of Sol; and the humans onboard the ship experience a time dilation of 40:1 (where twenty years are squeezed down into a half year). A time dilation of 40:1 implies a velocity between .999 c and .9999 c, ignoring the time spent accelerating and decelerating.
A first-wave Anglophone colonist reports, “I was born [on Earth] and he put her and me to sleep the way they did and when we woke up it was twenty-one years afterward” (145). I read this as meaning that the starship drives have improved in the decades since that first ship was launched.
Because of the light speed barrier, the distance cannot be greater than twenty light years; but of course it could be much less (since a starship going “only” .5 c will cross ten light years in twenty years). Then again, the use of the term “Newtonian” implies relativistic speeds in excess of .5 c; and the ratio of 40:1 implies NAFAL (Nearly As Fast As Light). (If the ratio 40:1 is due to hibernation rather than relativistic speed, then “Newtonian” would seem to be a red herring.) So I will exclude those systems closer than sixteen light years as being too close, and our resulting field has around twenty-seven star systems.
Hypothetical Flight Profile
• The ship accelerates at 4 g for 0.25 years (Newtonian), crossing 0.125 light years, and experiencing 0.21675 years (Subjective).
• The ship glides at NAFAL velocity for 19.5 years (Newtonian), crossing 19.498 light years, and experiencing 0.0665 years (Subjective).
• The ship decelerates at 4 g for 0.25 years (Newtonian), crossing 0.125 light years, and experiencing 0.21675 years (Subjective).
• The totals: 20 years (Newtonian), 19.748 light years traveled, 0.5 years (or 6 months) experienced.
(Note: acceleration/deceleration velocities will average 0.5 c; time dilation at 0.5 c is 0.867)
Among the systems most likely to have habitable worlds, Planets for Man lists six star systems between sixteen and twenty light years (ly) away (data as per Dole):
1. 70 Ophiuchi A/B 17.3 ly (two stars)
2. Eta Cassiopeiae A/B 18 ly (two stars)
3. Sigma Draconis 18.2 ly (type G9)
4. 36 Ophiuchi A/B/C 18.2 ly (three stars)
5. HR 7703 A 18.6 ly (type K2)
6. Delta Pavonis 19.2 ly (type G7)
Direction from Sol
We are told that Sol is visible from Ste. Anne/Ste. Croix as a “little yellow gem” located in the tail of "the Fighting Lizard" constellation (88, 154). This constellation could be completely made up, or it could be either constellation Lacerta (“the Lizard,” located at 22h 20m 35N) or Chameleon (11h 30m 80S). For Sol to appear within these constellations, the viewpoint star would (I think) have to be located around either (10h 40m 35S) or (23h 30m 80N). Unfortunately there are no stars of the proper distance in either of those two areas.
That Sol is easily visible with the naked eye is another data point. The outer range for such a condition is 55.5 light years, where Sol would be a star of magnitude 6 (Gillet, 130); from our preferred range of 17 to 20 light years, Sol would be a star of magnitude 3 (Dole, 181), comparable to the dimmer stars of the Big Dipper.
There are many mentions of other alien constellations, but they cannot help us.
Qualities of the Primary
An Earthman’s diary gives us detail about the local sun:
Anyway it’s a cool climate, so the thermometer tells me; but it does not seem cool — the whole effect is of the tropics. The sun, this incredible pink sun, blazes down, all light and no heat, with so little output at the blue end of the spectrum that it leaves the sky behind it nearly black. (140)
The detail about cool climate might suggest that the twin planets are in an orbit near the outer edge of the ecosphere (closer to the orbit of Mars, in our system). The sunlight/star is "pink," which might mean stellar class K or M; “so little output at the blue end” reinforces this sense of a star smaller than class G.
Planets for Man feels that class M stars are too cool for consideration; K0 and K1 (the biggest of the K series) are barely possible candidates. If we target class K stars, our list of six systems is reduced to four:
70 Ophiuchi A/B
Distance: 17.3 light years
Type: ?/K5
Mass (Sol): .9/.65
Visual Color: yellow and purple
Eta Cassiopeiae A/B
Distance: 18 light years
Type: F9/K6
Mass (Sol): .94/.58
Visual Color: orange and violet
36 Ophiuchi A/B/C
Distance: 18.2 light years
Type: K2/K1/K6
Mass (Sol): .77/.76/.63
Visual Color: n.a.
HR 7703 A
Distance: 18.6 light years
Type: K2
Mass (Sol): .76
Visual Color: n.a.
In an attempt to isolate possible “pinkness” I have given the visual colors of some of the stars (from astronomy field guides). I was able to find a few visually pink stars, and while none of them are within the proper distance, still their existence proves that pink stars are possible: “pale rose” Aldebaran (Taurus) K5 III; “pale red” Aludra (Eta Canis Majoris) B5 Ia; “reddish” Kochab (Beta Ursa Minoris) K4 III.
Distance from Primary
The time required for a planet to move around its primary star is a function of the planet’s orbital distance. If we know the length of the local year in hours we can calculate the planet’s orbit in AU (Astronomical Units). The distance is crucial, since if the distance is too short the planet will be too hot (like Venus at 0.723 AU) and if the distance is too long the planet will be too cold (like Mars at 1.524 AU). “In our own Solar system, the ecosph
ere extends from 0.725 AU (where the illuminance is 1.9 times that of the Earth) to 1.24 AU (where it is 0.65 times that of the Earth)” (Dole, 112).
In 5HC we learn the number of days: “There were four hundred and two trees (the number of days in Sainte Anne’s year)” (188). We do not know exactly how long the local days are, but there are hints, as Earth-man Marsch writes: “It gives me an unbalanced feeling, which the too-long days and stretched nights don’t help. I wake up ... hours before dawn” (140). It seems that the days are long, but not double length, so we will guess a thirty-hour day.
402 days x 30 hours = 12,060 hours
12,060 hours/ 8,766 hours (Earth year) = 1.37577 Earth years
So if the days are thirty hours, then the years are 1.37 Earth years.
This has an effect on the text, since many episodes are related to a character’s age in local years. Thus, a test against the text:
• Age of seven (when Number 5 begins his new life) equals 9.63 Earth years.
• Age of twelve (when injections begin for Number 5) equals 16.5 Earth years.
• 13 years old (age of Sandwalker and Eastwind) equals 17.88 Earth years.
• 18 years old (when Number 5 enters prison) equals 24.76 Earth years.
• 27 years old (when Number 5 is released from prison) equals 37 Earth years.
• 30 years old (when Number 5 writes his tale) equals 41 Earth years.
Calculate Orbit:
P = square root of (D^3/M)
[where P is orbit in Earth years, D is orbital distance in A.U., and M is stellar mass]
1.37577 Earth years = square root of (D^3/M)
1.8927431 = D^3/M
Unfortunately this gives orbits that seem to fall outside the ecospheres of stars smaller than type G. For example, an F9 (like Eta Cassiopeia A) gives 1.21 AU, and a K2 (like HR 7703 A) gives 1.13 AU.
Reverse Engineering Strategy. Let’s assume that the orbit is at the outer edge of the ecosphere. Into the formula above let’s plug in the mass of Sol (“1”) to see what we get: the answer is 1.236 AU, which is just inside the 1.24 AU figure given by Dole. This proves that, given a star of Sol-like mass, the orbit could be “habitable.”
Of course, if the star is smaller than Sol, the habitability of such an orbit falls off rapidly (because the size of the ecosphere is determined by luminosity). Thus the long orbit argues for a star of type G; contradicting the visual color data (which argues for a star of type K or M).
Different approach. If the hidden name is “Wolf,” as many of the names in 5HC are, our task is much simplified, because there is a Wolf series of stars, two within our target range:
• Wolf 294—(6h 52m 33N), 19.4 light years (class M4)
• Wolf 630—(16h 53 m 8s), 20.3 light years (four stars, M4, M5)
Of the two, Wolf 294 is a better bet. As a special bonus, it is located in the constellation of Gemini (“the Twins”). Seen from Wolf 294, Sol would be in the area of Sagittarius. But it would be impossible for the habitable orbit of 402 days around this dim star unless it was actually somehow a G type star in heavy disguise.
So we are back to square one — or worse, since we have added a candidate rather than reducing them!
Final Candidates
1. 70 Ophiuchi A/B 17.3 ly (two stars)
2. Eta Cassiopeiae A/B 18 ly (two stars)
3. Sigma Draconis 18.2 ly (type G9)
4. 36 Ophiuchi A/B/C 18.2 ly (three stars)
5. HR 7703 A 18.6 ly (type K2)
6. Delta Pavonis 19.2 ly (type G7)
7. Wolf 294 19.4 ly (class dM4)
The best realistic bets are Sigma Draconis and Delta Pavonis: both are G, but so much smaller than Sol (G2) that they might begin to exhibit “K type” visual coloration. I should mention that while the details of solar output point toward a K or M type star, the “pinkness” itself can also be attributed to atmospheric elements on the worlds rather than an inherent quality of the star.
The Cloaking Effect
Then again, there is another angle to be considered. Following up on the notion that the primary is a type G star that is “in heavy disguise,” some thoughts on a possible “cloaking effect.”
We are told the star system had been passed over by earlier colonization efforts from Earth:
“Sainte Croix and Sainte Anne are called planetary twins; the phrase refers to more than their rotation around a common center. Both our worlds remained unknown when planets more distant from Earth had been colonized for decades.” (200)
One explanation for this “overlooked” quality is that the Shadow Children were projecting an illusion spell through their singing:
“We have sung to hold the starcrossers back. We desired to live as we wished, unreminded of what was and is; and though they have bent the sky, we have bent their thought. Suppose I now sing them in, and they come?” (129)
The text gives hints of a possible cloaking effect, which seems to have hidden the habitable planets from view or, possibly made the star seem to be of a stellar class unlikely to have habitable planets. Then the text gives a moment of unveiling:
The last Shadow child said firmly, “Nothing is worse than that I should die,” and something that had wrapped the world was gone. It went in an instant ... The sky was open now, with nothing at all between the birds and the sun.” (130)
This sounds like the cloaking effect only hides the planet rather than changing the look of the sun from other systems. Then again, there are two planets involved, so even this commonsense approach runs into complication.
If the star is cloaked, then supposition on the distance ranging from 16 to 20 light years from Sol would remain valid. It would presumably be a type G star disguised as something else, rendering moot all guessing at mass and visual color. Thus the system is hidden in plain sight: we cannot know which of the twenty-seven systems is the right one, except that it is probably the least likely candidate.
Bibliography
Allen, Richard Hinckley. Star Names: Their Lore and Meaning. Dover Publications, Inc. New York: 1963. [visual colors of stars]
Dibon-Smith, Richard. Starlist 2000. John Wiley & Sons, Inc. New York: 1992. [visual colors of stars]
Dole, Stephen H. and Isaac Asimov. Planets for Man. Random House, Inc. New York: 1964.
Gillett, Stephen L. World Building. Writer’s Digest Books. Cincinnati, Ohio: 1996.
Lions and Tigers and Bears ... of the New Sun
1. The Strange Bear Man at the Threshold
The first time I read The Urth of the New Sun, one scene tantalized me more than any other. I could see just enough to know that there was a great deal I could not see yet. The symbols were there, I just could not understand them. It was in chapter 14, “The End of the Universe,” where, in the rigging of the starship, Severian has single combat with a mutineer who has claws:
I paused for a moment to look at him, with some vague notion that the claws I had seen might be artificial, like the steel claws of the magicians [in The Sword of the Lictor] or the lucivee with which Agia had torn my cheek, and if artificial, they might be of some use to me.
They were not.... The claws of an arctother had been shaped from his fingers — ugly and innocent, incapable of holding any other weapon. (101)
The combatant he faces is a modified human who has bear claws instead of fingers, in contrast to the metal hand weapons used by both the magicians (at the foot of Mount Typhon) and Agia (at the jungle court of Vodalus). Severian triumphs against this bear-man and soon thereafter the starship passes from their home-universe Briah into the higher-universe Yesod: thus, the bear-man was in some sense a guardian of the threshold, even though as a common mutineer he was not tagged as such.
For a succinct definition of threshold guardians, I employ J. E. Cirlot:
Just as the powers of the Earth must be defended, so, by analogy, must all mystic, religious and spiritual wealth or power be protected against hostile forces or against possible intrusion by the unworthy.... From the psycho
logical point of view, guardians symbolize the forces gathered on the threshold of transition between different stages of evolution and spiritual progress or regression. The ‘guardian of the threshold’ must be overcome before Man can enter into the mastery of the higher realm (Cirlot, A Dictionary of Symbols, “Guardians” entry).
This definition captures much of what I saw in that first glance: while it is clear that throughout his narrative Severian is undergoing an evolution changing him from a torturer into the Conciliator (and beyond), the combat with the bear-man was a distinct threshold, beyond which lay the literally higher realm of Yesod (if we take Yesod to be a kind of hyperspace).
Identifying the threshold and the guardian was all I had initially: I did not know why the guardian in this case was a bear, or better, why it had to be a bear. So I began to investigate what “bear” means in the text.
2. The Atrium of Time Provides a Key
In tracking down the bears in Severian’s narrative, I found myself back at the beginning again, where I discovered an important clue.
In The Shadow of the Torturer, chapter 4 (“Triskele”), Severian chances upon the Atrium of Time, an enclosed garden hidden deep within the Citadel complex. Emerging from the underground maze that had led him to the place, he takes in the scene:
Statues of beasts stood with their backs to the four walls of the court, eyes turned to watch the canted dial [of a multifaceted time piece]: hulking barylambdas; arctothers, the monarchs of bears; glyptodons; smilodons with fangs like glaives. All were dusted with snow. (43)
Severian finds a garden where four types of statues are focused on a central clock that is tipped over and broken. All these statues are of animals extinct in our time: the barylambda was a cow-sized, primitive herbivore of Paleocene North America; the arctother was the very large bear of North and South America; the glyptodon, which possessed a carapace like an armadillo, was a cow-sized herbivore of South America; and the smilodon was a saber-tooth tiger. (A “glaive” is a poleaxe with a head like the blade of a sword.)
Gene Wolfe Page 6
