Non-scientific astronomy in ancient Greece

Corvus the Crow, from Uranographicarum reworking at Hubblesource.

I’ve just picked up this month’s Sky and Telescope. It’s pretty rare that I get it because it’s not sold anywhere locally. The reason why I should perhaps make more of an effort, or else re-subscribe to the S&T archive, is Ed Krupp’s column Rambling through the Skies.

This month the article is The Bowl of Night and it’s a brilliant example of what I’d like to do if Ed Krupp wasn’t doing it better and before me on a regular basis. This month’s article looks at the relationship between three constellations, the Crow, the Cup and Hydra. The tale of the constellations is that the crow was sent by Apollo to fetch water, but instead of coming straight back he delayed a while to wait for some figs to ripen. The crow blamed Hydra for the delay, but Apollo knew this to be a lie, so punished the crow by causing him to thirst while the figs ripen. The connection is that the Cup which carries the water, was obscured by the glare of the Sun in ancient Greece between August and September. When it returns to the morning sky, refilled, it brings with it the autumn rains. This interests me more than drawing triangles over diagrams over stone circles, because it tells us a bit more about how people thought about the sky. It’s a bit of a neglected area. It’s not geometric astronomy, so it sits uncomfortably with History of Science. At the same time the treatment isn’t literary, so the application of the knowledge isn’t discussed. Yet this sort of tale probably does matter in how we think about the structure of seasonal tasks in ancient Greece.

The view of ancient astronomy that remains in vogue is one of accuracy and precision. For some reason it’s commonly accepted that people needed an accurate calendar to farm. I cannot see why. Why is it so important (agriculturally speaking) to plant on a specific day? What happens if there’s late snow that year? Do you accept that you accurately and precisely lose a large portion of your crop? A rough guide is certainly useful, but I’m not sure rigid geometry to calibrate a precise civic calendar. If you’re a shepherd watching your flock by night while seated on the ground, you don’t need angles or a law to say what season’s coming round. A simple familiarity with the myths associated with the night sky is close enough. Indeed the vagueness of this system might explain how Greek lunar months could shift against the tropical year without any major social strife.

If you’re interested in reading more stuff about ancient astronomy which is more than looking at which direction something points, then I highly recommend Skywatchers, Shamans and Kings. —–