For the Love of Flammarion
Flammarion in his observatory in Juvisy. |
The scientist, astronomer, spiritualist, and psychic researcher Camille Flammarion, a contemporary of Jules Verne, came of age in mid-nineteenth century France at a time when young men quickened to the new life that technology and science offered, and steam-age France was a center of technical expertise and romantic thought. Flammarion would eventually become a key figure in encouraging Mars mania, but throughout his life he spread enthusiasm for astronomy, education, and imagination.
Born in rural France in 1842, at age five he
became enamored of astronomy after witnessing an eclipse of the sun—his fascination
intensified at eleven when he carefully tracked the movement of a comet. A
local priest helped his early education, but after the family lost their land,
Flammarion became an apprentice to an engraver in Paris—continuing his studies
in night school. A physician treating him for exhaustion discovered the
teenager’s lengthy manuscript, Cosmogonie Universelle, was impressed,
and with his recommendation, Flammarion, at age sixteen became a “pupil
astronomer” at the Paris observatory. His career as an astronomer,
meteorologist, popular author, and cosmic visionary ensued.
At age twenty Flammarion jumped into a
centuries-old debate and published The Plurality of Inhabited Worlds
(1862) that made a case for life on different planets and even speculated what
forms such life might take. His position was based on the argument from
design—that is, God created planets for a purpose, and the obvious purpose was
to harbor life—ever since Copernicus established the earth was not the center
of the universe, this argument had appealed to leading philosophers.
Flammarion’s notions of extraterrestrial
life, however, which included species of sentient plants, were more
sophisticated than the usual assumption that all inhabitants of space would be
virtually identical to human beings. In this and later books he endowed his extraterrestrials with the
ability to sense in infrared or ultraviolet, and gave them spectroscopic
abilities (to analyze chemicals), and an “electric” sense. Flammarion’s further
catalog of intelligent species—which could be from a 1940s science fiction
novel—included the plant-like, star-fish footed men of Theta Orionis, and the
floating beings of Delta Andromedae who have no need to eat, but must
frantically breathe nutrients from their planet’s dense atmosphere; all were
adapted uniquely to unique worlds. Flammerion’s book was wildly popular; it
went through thirty-three editions by 1880 and remained in print until 1921.
By age twenty-three, while continuing to
work in observatories, Flammarion, an avid balloonist, had become president of
the French Aerostatic Society. He made numerous ascensions while conducting
meteorological experiments. These ballooning outings included his honeymoon, a
flight in 1874 with his new wife Sylvie Petiaux-Hugo Flammarion (a grand-niece
of Victor Hugo), and culminated in a work about the earth’s atmosphere.
From Flammarion's L'Atmosphere. |
Flammarion was also intensely interested in the field of
psychic research and wrote a book about the afterlife, relying on the pen-name
Hermès. He alternated books on popular astronomy with books on psychic research
as well as fiction that fused both realms. In 1877 Flammarion published his Catalog
of Double Stars that became a critical tool for astronomers, and followed
this with a lavishly illustrated book called Popular Astronomy
(1880)—which argued there was likely life not only on Mars but also the Moon.
In 1877, Flammarion founded the French
Society of Astronomy and in 1882 the magazine L’Astronomie. He also
organized France’s first observatory open to the public. Central to the science
of astronomy in the late nineteenth century, he was forgiven his outsized
speculations.
Flammarion’s cosmology—which sought to fuse
the physical and spiritual universes, offered a view in which the planets of
this solar system and other star systems might be “heavens” or new Earths that
humans went to after death where they were reincarnated. He offered this vision
in Lumen (1872), and later in Uranie (1891), in which the muse of
astronomy takes Flammarion on a tour of the universe, and Flammarion recounts
meeting on Mars a friend who had died young in a ballooning accident only to be
reborn on the Red Planet. He also proposed that by traveling at a speed
faster than that of light, one could move backwards in time, catching up with
old light rays and so witness earlier events.
In Flammarion's Omega: The Last Days of the World (1894),
scientists gather in 25th century Paris (this, even though the world's
capital has become Chicago), amid airships and communiques from (friendly)
Martians, to discuss the likely end of the world as a comet approaches the
earth. While it misses, wreaking only mild havoc, the narrator continues to
explore scenarios for the future evolution of humanity and eventual death of the planet.
With his ballooning adventures, séances,
impassioned writing, public lectures, ample energy, large furrowed brow,
and handsome looks, Flammarion gained wealthy admirers. A young and
consumptive French countess, obsessed with Flammarion, had a picture
of him tattooed on her skin, and ordered her physician to send Flammarion this
portion of her skin after her death so that with it he could bind a volume of
one of his books. He duly (hesitantly, gladly?) agreed and used it to bind a
copy of Terres du Ciel in 1882. In 1882, another admirer gave Flammarion
a mansion that he converted into an observatory in Juvisy-sur-Orge to the
southeast of Paris. It was inaugurated in 1887 with the Emperor of Brazil in
attendance.
It wasn’t until after the opening of
his own observatory that Flammarion fixed his interest on Mars. Flammarion’s La
Planete Mars (1892) marshaled all the available knowledge about Mars,
including the planet’s two moons, the waxing and waning of the planet’s polar
ice caps, the seasonal color changes that suggested vegetation covered some of
the planet’s surface (an idea that originated with Flammarion and maintained
credence well into the twentieth century), its length of day (24 hours, 37
minutes) that closely paralleled that of the Earth, and the probably existence
of Martian canals. Flammarion affirmed that Mars included “streams” and “seas,”
but suggested that its age, greater than that of the Earth, explained its
relative lack of water and great deserts.
While Flammarion could only confirm
one of the numerous canals that the Italian astronomer Giovanni Schiaparelli,
infamously, had mapped in 1877, Flammarion believed this indicated some
engineering on the part of a sentient species on the planet. As he wrote,
"the actual habitation of Mars by a race superior to our own is in our
opinion very probable.” The wealthy Boston dilettante Percival Lowell,
fascinated with Flammarion’s book, left his study of trances in Japan to open his own observatory in Arizona to
establish the reality of life on Mars.
Lowell relished a good argument. With data he supplied, the debate over the canals of Mars raged on and the "dying planet"
became a staple of science fiction, spurring H.G. Wells's Martian
octopii to invade the Earth and start the War
of the Worlds (1898), while in Edgar Rice Burroughs’s Under
the Moon of Mars (1911)—renamed A Princess of Mars, U.S. Civil War veteran John
Carter bounds around Mars's quasi-orientalist cities, located along the canals, using super powers to gain
prominence among its inhabitants and woo their princess.
Comments
Post a Comment