This
piece on Julie Burchill first appeared in The Astrological Journal
earlier this year under the title 'Julie Burchill: the crab that roared'. It's part-astro-analysis, part mini-memoir
Julie Burchill: the crab that roared
By Victor Olliver
British writer Julie Burchill’s middle name may as well be Acrimony (making the acronym JAB). Whichever publication she writes for (it would be simpler to list the no-go titles) controversy is certain to follow. In addition to her countless print media opinion pieces and reviews, she has written books – including bestselling novel Ambition and lesbian teen romance Sugar Rush, adapted into an Emmy award-winning Channel 4 TV series. The self-described militant feminist and ‘Christian Zionist’ lives a hedonistic lifestyle by the English south coast in Hove, East Sussex. How come she seems not to be like her Crab Sun-sign but more a Lion?
Over the last
four decades Julie Burchill has discharged a prose blunderbuss at assorted
targets, scattering brilliant and irregular shot for the entertainment of the
cross-legged or hunched: for tetchy seated people who post a lot of short
messages on Facebook and Twitter.
Her word-projectiles
rip through the faux flesh of exaggerated or self-concocted or celebrity
stupidity or cupidity so that we, the seated, may wallow vicariously in the
tomato sauce of manufactured gore. No one really dies or suffers injury –
though a hit may trigger performance rage in ‘victims’ prior to return fire in
self-serving media storms comparable to a Mardi Gras. No one loses in Burchill
rows, least of all Burchill herself: she lives in some comfort on England’s
sunny south coast for which she gives her money’s worth. She produces all the
effects of controversy without the risks of real-world fatwa or vendetta. Her
genre is like a video war game such as Call
of Duty through which the ambient and purposeless anger of consumer loafers
can be vicariously doused. Recliningly.
God knows how
many murders and random acts of violence she has headed off. Arise, Dame Jules!
Burchill’s
passions may be countless and variable, long- or short-term: Israel,
transsexuals, Madonna, Thatcher, ex-husbands, God or god; you name it – but
each hate or love lacks nothing in authenticity. She’s even taken a pop at
astrology. A visceral passion is stirred, precipitating an internal storm of
memorable phrases in a chain-reaction of guided, populist irrationalism. These
phrases are the building blocks of (at best) sublime comic invective (or
occasional, romantic billet-doux, depending on her mood) that can be tailored
to suit just about any medium’s demographic profile, whether The Sun’s or The Spectator’s or The Jewish
Chronicle’s or anything in between or beyond.
Around the time
of her second Jupiter-Jupiter opposition, she was plucked from nowhere at the
age of 17 by a youth-slavering New
Musical Express. She never really looked back and these days is still the
biggest of the very, very few big freelance beasts of British journalism, the
periodic newspaper star-signing and banner marketing name. She is also a
notable salonnière,
drawing any number of writers and others to her table – once at London’s
Groucho; these days, at Brighton venues – for friendship or a cross-pollinating
natter. Her manner at these leisurely craics is that of an adoring fan who
seeks your instant intimacy (personal space soon narrows as she fills you in on
her alcohol, drugs or literary consumption): yet, no matter the opiate of
choice under which she claims to steer, the wise guest will notice how very
alert she remains to her company, preternatural in her mind-reading and
conversational anticipations. And she exudes a great blast of mind-altering
warmth.
All this contrasts wildly with the public persona
which is uncompromising, predatory, boastful, bombastic, insulting; sometimes
cruel or shameless – culturally sussed and super-canny and dedicatedly
notice-moi. The pose prose is crystal sharp. Humour is her weapon of choice. No
vogue word or idea dodges her conscription. She is a creative, hot-desking
opportunist with multiple causes, even if at this moment she calls herself
“semi-retired” and is planning an autumn life of voluntary work.
The
Burchill natal chart
She was born on 3 July, 1959, in Bristol, UK. Burchill
told me herself that birth clock-time is unknown so I have drawn up the midday
chart and we should ignore houses and angles. I’ve heard people express
surprise that she is a Cancerian. Her ‘superior’, mercurial, erratic and
confrontational life-approaches hardly fit the traditional profile of the
conservative, supposedly risk-averse Crab. Her horoscope reveals why the
apparent disconnect. She’s not labelled a ‘firebrand’ for nothing. She has four
planets in fiery, proud Leo – Mercury, Venus, Mars and Uranus in a dominant stellium
– and pars fortuna in Leo, an
indicator of means of success. She needs others’ recognition to experience
contentment, as well as ample space to demonstrate her gifts in a showy, noisy,
possibly flamboyant way.
Self-expression is integral to her primal nature to a
highly advanced extent.
Horoscopically, she’s one of nature’s show-offs, a
conclusion any astrologer would reach even if s/he did not know the chart in
question was Julie Burchill’s. An added power bonus to this stellium is
out-of-sign Pluto, just seven degrees off in Virgo; the sign of its putative
fall (unlikely to be of discernible relevance in my view in a personal chart).
Here is the execution through the rigour of self-control. This underlines,
among other things, her prose punch and analytical/critical bent, the
withdrawal into the solo world of the mind and keyboard where her power is
sourced (Mercury ruler and Pluto).
So, in many respects, Burchill is leonine: the
socially adventurous queen bee (to mix species), generous and loyal – and
capable of amazing generosity (Venus); bold, passionate and courageous, and an
excellent organiser (she does not miss deadlines) – but inclined to pushiness,
impulsiveness and boastfulness (Mars); an expressive and versatile ‘dramatist’
in speech and writing (Mercury); and abundant with creative energy, hugely
self-confident but probably highly stubborn and bossy and certainly inclined to
perversity or surprise perspectives (Uranus).
Though Leo is traditionally a warming sign, Uranus
masks calculation and perhaps signals a blowy hot-cold sort of person: this,
with social Venus close by in the blending stellium, suggests an individual who
can adeptly and quickly turn on the charm but often for specific ulterior
purposes. Leo Venus ramps up the showiness and likelihood of good earnings and
a dynamic social life. Note, also, that her Venus is exactly conjunct pars
fortuna, often denoting exceptional charm, striking good looks and the role of
‘partnership’ (business or personal) as integral to progress. Uranus here draws
her into unconventional relationships and friendships: even if I didn’t know
her personal history I would have to say that private life is likely to be
turbulent and prone to sudden partings (she is twice divorced). Saturn trine
Venus can denote major difficulties and duplicities in close bonds, but also
growing happiness in partnership with maturity.
Uranus however assures a break from the norm in
domestic set-up. She says she now lives with husband Daniel (who otherwise
occupies a place in another part of town), but who knows? Few outside their
long union are certain. Does she still talk to his sister Charlotte Raven, her
former lover? She has been very rude about ex-husband Cosmo Landesman yet last December
the pair made an appearance together at a public reading, recalling
affectionately their first-ever meeting (lots of hot sex and cold vodka).
The Leo archetype blazes in an unhindered natal chart
– as in the case of Burchill – displaying an almost regal sense of entitlement
to life’s gifts and perquisites. If her Cancer Sun inclines her, perhaps
surprisingly, to the personal security and cosiness of family – and/or to the
adopted ‘family’ of her social coterie – then Leo makes her their
uncompromising defender. She will be ferocious in seeing off attackers, though
the large-heartedness of Leo may allow forgiveness even if Cancer clings
quietly to the hurt. When the newspaper columnist Suzanne Moore was accused of
transphobia in 2013, close pal Burchill valiantly counter-attacked critics as
self-appointed champion and drew a lot of flak. Burchill’s personal needs are
expressed overtly. The home theatre seeks a drama.
(Fans of Black Moon Lilith [i.e. not a planet but a
geometrical point - Moon’s farthest point from Earth] – defined by some as an emerging
feminine power archetype in the horoscope – may note that it is square the Leo
stellium via Mars and Venus, indicative of power-related conflicts in the life
and, at the very least, turbulent associations.)
When
I met Burchill
I had some small experience of Burchill’s leonine
nature a few years back, for good or not. The summons arrived by email one day:
my then Madame Arcati media blog pleased her and she invited me to join her and
others for lunch at the Hotel du Vin, Brighton. The moment we met she soaked me
in charm, affection and admiration, as if we were old friends. Venus-pars
fortuna could not be bettered in display. I was responsive: her Venus conjoins
my Pluto (opposition Lilith); so that’s another story of complicated mutual attraction
and power triggers. How we all purred. I wondered whether we’d rubbed noses
before. At table she seated me between herself and her local vicar. When in
later conversation the man-in-frock asked me what was the point of my Madame
Arcati website, she suddenly turned from mid-bantering with someone to her left
and replied for me – “to tell the truth”. I was impressed by that. Not just by
the answer (judged correct if not flattering) but by her perceptual
multi-tasking and feline sharp ears. Afterwards, she invited some of us back to
her apartment in Hove. There she said to me, “I read your blog - and I never
read blogs.” It was meant as a compliment but it was also another way of saying
that big is looking down on small. I thought it mean-spirited of me to
interpret her otherwise big heart in this way, especially after she
spontaneously took down an Italian ceramic wall tile (featuring a pussy cat with
the words “Attenti al Gatto” – beware the cat) and gifted it to me on my way
out.
The next day she emailed me an invitation to join her
and another at very short notice on a 5-star overseas holiday at her expense –
yet another example of extraordinary Leo-Venus liberality. I refused of course.
Friends thought I was mad not to say Yes to a freebie with (omigod!) Julie
Burchill. But experience has taught me to beware idiosyncratic charm offences.
It had struck me as odd, for instance, that she had asked me no questions about
my personal life situation at the lunch or her flat – she never did. Later, she
wrote of our “bromance” in an email. And she sent me a truly excellent lyric
poem she’d penned for a pop star. Leo was in full gush; Leo-Venus at her most
Santa-esque.
But the truth in my mean suspicion was proved to me at
a subsequent get-together in London. She’d invited a few friends to join her
and husband Daniel at a drinks in One Aldwych’s Lobby Bar – she was celebrating
a Sunday Times Magazine deal or
something – I think she’d sold them a short story. One well-known female
tabloid hack was off her head on booze and gazed at me with undisguised
dismissiveness as she draped herself over a sofa and chirruped at Julie. A
small-time radio jock treated me to his absolute certainty that there’s no such
thing as an afterlife and that all psychics are frauds. No research was
mentioned. I prepared to get away sooner than planned. Perhaps Julie sensed an
attitude in me – I was now in an offish mood - but at some point she leaned over and muttered
in a pissed, whispery snarl, “Just remember, I’m the star here”, before quickly
moving on and talking sweetly about something else.
The distant roar of the lioness had just been heard in
this boutique hotel jungle. Attenti al gatto? I had been put me in my place. It
was a mark of her journalistic royalty that she had not even bothered to
discover what my place might be.
Burchill
and Israel – a love story
Returning to Burchill’s horoscope: Cancer Sun usually
bestows a maternal air, moodiness and/or fluctuating interests (likely more so
in Burchill’s case with Moon in capricious but ever-curious and clever Gemini).
In person the Crab tends to gentleness and accommodation as a rule, resorting
to sidling ways if confounded.
The combination of Cancer-Leo upholds fidelity and
self-responsibility. Leo’s wild, creative exuberance is restrained by the Sun-Saturn
opposition – this is an individual who does not in general forget her
responsibilities, but she tends to clash with authority. An uneasy alliance
exists between others’ power and her ego.
What else? As I just mentioned, her Moon (emotional
nature – and ruler of her Sun-sign) is in Gemini (the communicator/writer,
ruled by Mercury in Leo): this tells me that she is a dominant presence, and
comfortable in media settings. She will like the company of fellow
communicators, writers, speakers and teachers. Her responses are sharp and
direct. She won’t be slow in repartee or reply to emails or texts. The instinct
to speak up and out will be irresistible; nervous strain sometimes palpable.
She has a need for much surface stimuli; is easily bored. Moon’s trine to North
Node in Libra speaks of excitability and a pronounced admiration for courage
and achievement; but also of a less obvious quest for serenity and/or soul
connection – through partnership, or relationship with a god or God or Life.
Her growing interest in volunteering may apply here.
Astrologically, the life challenge is to view all
sides of an argument (see the nodal Aries-Libra axis). Given the tyrannous Leo
richness of the chart this may appear to be a tall order. Nonetheless, the
lesson is indicated – beneath the posing, posturing, blather and noise, the
soul yearns for synthesis or harmony even if the ‘professional’ in her seeks
this through vain, one-sided victory. Perhaps her sense of kinship with Israel
is part of this.
On this last point, astrologers may like to note that
modern Israel – which Burchill strongly identifies with - has (like Burchill)
four planets in Leo (including Mars, widely conjunct Burchill’s Mars) and that
Israel’s Mercury is one degree short of exact Burchill’s Moon in Gemini,
suggesting that the nation’s extremely bold and courageous or ruthless
qualities resonate sympathetically with her internal need to live life through
passion, demonstration and certainty. Her heart is drawn to the country’s spirit
and turbulent narrative, quite aside from other considerations.
Typical Cancerians are already sensitive to mood. In
Burchill, both Jupiter and Neptune are found in delving, sensitising Scorpio.
Neptune here especially intensifies peripheral awareness, bolstering capability
for picking up on all sorts of subtle cues (social, psychic, etc – think about
the way she followed my conversation at the Hotel du Vin with her vicar while
she spoke with someone else) and using this data both for insight and assault.
Her claim to be indifferent to criticism is not really borne out by her Neptune
(or Moon) – quite the reverse in fact. This blustery hubris is her Leo stellium
talking, a proud beast that rarely admits a bleed. Neptune trine Sun, sextile Pluto
(which co-rules Scorpio) - artistic talent and psychological insight are
formidable. Square the Leo stellium, Neptune’s love of dreams and glamour can
get the better of Burchill – her celebration of a hedonistic lifestyle being
but one expression of this escapist trait. Jupiter square Leo stellium points
to huge creative energies but also to larger-than-life characteristics, a
tendency to exaggerate, dramatise, over-spend or distort. These are not
inevitable features, simply potential.
The chart shape of Burchill’s chart is called a
Locomotive because the principal planets fill about two-thirds of the wheel,
leaving about one-third unoccupied: the planetary arrangement resembles a train
and is often associated with people who leave their stamp on all that they do.
The primary ‘engine’ of this pattern is the Gemini Moon. If I did not know this
was Burchill’s chart I would say: “At a glance this tells me of highly emotive
judgements, excitability, volubility, endless curiosity about people and
powerful reaction to opposition or disapproval. At best, intellect and
intuition form a powerful duo for analysis and expression. This person knows
how to hit a nerve. In some with this combination, distrust of the so-called
irrational way of life sits uncomfortably with a highly subjective life
perspective.”
With
a beneficial sextile between Moon and the Leo stellium planets, media
accomplishment is directly linked to contentious, mischievous and lion-hearted
performance. It would be entirely fair to say that Burchill is making the most
of her natal gifts – and you don’t have to be an astrologer to see that.
PS: This piece, but for a few amendments, appears in my book Lifesurfing: Your Horoscope Forecast Guide
2015. At the time of release, I was no longer in touch with Julie – partly
because of the goings-on at One Aldwych (as described above), partly because I
didn’t like her public comments on transsexuals following the Suzanne Moore
social media eruption; and generally because as much as I admire the Beast That
Is Burchill I did not feel any sense of personal communication between us: we
were just semaphoring at each other in a one-sided opiate haze.
One Monday
morning in February 2015 there was a warm surprise message for me on my
Facebook page – from Julie. This is what she wrote: “I'm reading your book
LIFESURFING, with me in it! The Israel stuff is UNCANNY! It's SO good! - JB XX
PS Sorry if I was a pain, I was in my Neely O'Hara years. Failure has made me
FAR nicer”. How could I not be moved by such an outrageous play to my ego,
leaving aside the hearty compliment?
What impressed me most was her
failure to be predictable. She could have said, “How dare you write about a
private occasion and not seek my permission first! How you’re going to suffer!”
A surprise can cause me to warm to just about anyone, provided it’s not a kick
in the butt. But then her Mercury conjoins my Uranus, making a mutual friend of
impulse and open communication.
If I know JB at all it’s largely
thanks to her horoscope. And she has not challenged anything in this piece
(yet).
Julie Burchill’s latest book is Unchosen: The Memoirs of a Philo-Semite
