Age of Witchery Tarot Guide

Portions adapted from Cartomancy in Folk Witchcraft by Roger J. Horne

INTRODUCTION

The tarot deck used by cartomancers and seers today originated not as a tool for spiritual wisdom, but as a simple game, arriving sometime in the 1300s or 1400s. That, of course, tells us nothing of its utility. The broom was invented for sweeping, and the cauldron for cooking. Like these and many other tools, the tarot deck has become a symbol of modern pagan spirituality. Its use is deceptively simple: draw a series of cards, lay them out in an arrangement, and interpret the patterns that appear. Psychologists would call this an introspective or reflective exercise, or some other lofty academic jargon. Pagans and witches would simply call this process divination, the discernment of knowledge that is somehow already within us, but hidden beneath the surface.

The modern tarot deck is usually styled after one of three traditions, or some combination thereof: the Smith-Waite tarot, designed by artist Pamela Coleman Smith and published in 1909, the Thoth tarot, designed by Lady Frieda Harris and published in 1944, or the Marseille tarots, which date from the 1600s, rendered by various artists over time in a variety of adaptations. The Age of Witchery tarot falls mostly in line with the latter for several reasons. It maintains the original ordering of the trump sequence in regards to the placement of the Strength and Justice cards. It leaves the Fool unnumbered, emphasizing his position outside of the events of the trump sequence, and it leaves Death unnamed, suggesting its fearsome power. We have the original Pope and the Popess instead of the Hierophant and High Priestess. Card designs favor simplicity, especially in the pip or minor cards, which present a number of given objects representing one of the four suits. The deck relies not on occult hermetic color associations or modern magical correspondences, but on easily recognizable figures. The Age of Witchery Tarot combines original illustration work with carefully collaged woodcut images from the 1700s text The History of Witches and Wizards.

Readers in the Marseille currents of cartomancy favor simple pip cards rather than depictions of scenes for a very good reason. While scenic illustrations can serve as memory aids, they also prescribe fixed meanings. While the Smith-Waite tarot identifies very specific interpretations of minor cards, the Marseille traditions are more open and diverse. Some readers may prefer to read the fives as corresponding to the body or the five senses, while others may prefer to interpret the fives as ruled by Mars. This guide offers one system for interpreting the cards, but the wise cartomancer will spend years developing relationships with the minors, the court cards, and the trump sequence, honing and crafting their own system that speaks to them directly and personally. Modern tarot is not a fixed tradition, but an evolving one, and this is as it should be.

SOME KEYS

New practitioners of the art of cartomancy are eager creatures, and so the following keys may offer a glimpse into how the language of the tarot comes together to form insight and advice in a reading. These keys are in no way complete or exhaustive due to the simple fact that each card contains multiple facets. It is far better (and ultimately mandatory for success) that the reader eventually form their own relationships with the cards by carefully studying the inherent patterns of the tarot, which are admittedly complex, but also richer and more layered than any “keyword” can ever be.

0. The Fool: A naïve beginner, sure to face challenges. Eagerness and enthusiasm.

1. The Magician: A clever figure. Skill and talent. A trickster. Wit and cunning.

2. The Popess: Inner wisdom. Personal spiritual authority. Intuition. Hidden knowledge.

3. The Empress: Social skills and power. Power that is soft and subtle.

4. The Emperor: Legal and financial skills and power. Power that is concrete.

5. The Pope: External religious authority. Organizational authority. Morality.

6. The Lovers: Decisions. Pacts. Risks and rewards.

7. The Chariot: Success. Achievement. Triumph.

8. Justice: Legal matters. Fairness in dealings with others. Societal expectations.

9. The Hermit: The self in conflict with society. Individualism. Seeking outside prescribed avenues.

10. The Wheel of Fortune: Changes of fate, for good or ill. Reversal of fortune.

11. Strength: The goal met with tenacity and relentless effort. Determination. Dedication. Overcoming obstacles.

12. The Hanged Man: Entrapment. Shame. Punishment. Also a change of perspective.

13. Death: An ending, usually so that some new cycle may begin.

14. Temperance: Balance within oneself. Mental and physical health. Living a balanced life.

15. The Devil: Desire and fear. Pleasure at some cost. Dark blessings. Terrible delights. Also resistance against authority.

16. The Tower: Ruin. Also the removal of things that have outlived their usefulness.

17. The Star: Hope and comfort. Steadfastness.

18. The Moon: Inspiration. Revelry. Dreams and artistry. Lies and illusions. Visions.

19. The Sun: Fulfillment. Happy activities and rewards. Wholesome joys. Well-being.

20. Judgment: Comeuppance. Rewards. Vengeance. The settling of debts. Promises fulfilled.

21. The World: Completion. Attainment. Nothing greater to be gained.

Suit of Rods: Creativity, projects, work, ingenuity.
Suit of Vessels: Relationships, friends, emotions.
Suit of Blades: Challenges, suffering, learning.
Suit of Roots: Rewards, assets, treasures.

Aces: Starting a new journey.
Twos: Relationships, trading, conversations.
Threes: Growth, new development. Potentially good outcomes.
Fours: Stability, groundedness.
Fives: Sudden chaos, a lesser misfortune, changes.
Sixes: Rewards harvested. Favors returned. Good fortune.
Sevens: Ill intent. Cruelty. Greater misfortune.
Eights: A journey. Progression. Change of scenery.
Nines: Blessings bestowed. Very good fortune.
Tens: Completion. An ending. Achievement. A release.

Knaves: Openness to learning.
Knights: Strength and vigor.
Queens: Wisdom and cunning. True mastery.
Kings: Power and conviction.

THE PIPS

The Four Suits

The majority of the tarot deck is divided into four suits: vessels, blades, roots, and rods. Each of these represents an aspect of the querent’s life.

Vessels (traditionally cups) speak to relationships, friendships, family, love, and our connections to others. These relationships can be fraught or harmonious, depending on the iteration of the number signs. An overwhelming presence of vessels in a reading signifies that relationships are at the heart of the matter at hand.

Blades (traditionally swords) are the most difficult suit. They represent challenges, trials, troubles, and conflict. Conversely, since it is only by suffering the new and unknown that we are able to grow, they represent evolution and learning. If many blades are on the table in a reading, the querent may be facing a particularly rough patch. This is best met with an openness to change and willingness to learn.

Roots (traditionally coins) are assets, but this can be a tricky suit. We typically think of assets as monetary or physical in nature, but this is often not the case. Our assets are the treasures we’ve acquired, both literal and figurative. For many of us, our intellect, skills, and learning can be our assets. For particularly manipulative, scheming persons, people can even be considered assets. What the querent considers their “treasures” may be open to interpretation. If the reading is overrun with roots, this is a time to think carefully about the resources at one’s disposal and to use them wisely, whatever they may be.

Rods (traditionally batons) speak to power and influence and those endeavors associated with these parts of life. People encounter power dynamics most frequently in a work environment through interactions with supervisors and subordinates, but power dynamics can also be encountered in legal matters, social situations, and creative projects. Whereas vessels concern how people feel, rods concern how people are put to work, how their effort is driven. A mass of rods in a reading might signify ambitions at work.

Numerical Influences

The bulk of the deck is made up of numbered cards. These iterations of one through ten speak to various circumstances in life that may express themselves through each of the suits. The skilled reader will be keen to observe that these powers may express themselves in a multitude of ways; rather than trying to memorize concrete circumstances like divorce or illness in association with a particular card, it is wise to consider the transforming current that underlies such an event and how that numeric force may express itself in each of the suits in various ways.

The aces most frequently represent beginnings or invitations. Depending on the position of this card in the spread, the querent may be invited to embrace a new chapter in life. The ace of roots, for instance, could represent a new financial opportunity or an opportunity to begin acquiring a new “asset” of some kind, which can often refer to a skill. In a negative or “releasing” position, this card may indicate the need to let go of a fledgling idea that just isn’t going to come to fruition. Many aces indicate a wealth of new opportunities, but also a lack of grounding and connection to what came before. The querent may benefit from connecting new efforts to old ones so as not to throw the baby out with the bath-water.

The twos speak to pairings and partnerships. Most often, this involves two people, but it may also describe a querent experiencing ambivalence between two perspectives within themselves. For example, the two of vessels most frequently describes a relationship that is kind and loving (though not always). The two of blades might indicate a partnership or collaborative effort fraught with adversity and pain. A great many twos in a spread might signal the feeling of being stretched between many people demanding attention.

Three lines form a triangle, the first stable shape that is also upward-reaching. Threes usually indicate a period of learning and exploration of some kind. Something is coming into its own and taking root, and the nature of that something will tell us if this is a favorable or unfavorable card. The three of rods, for instance, may reveal a querent with social or occupational status on the rise. Depending on the position, it may also represent an opportunity for growth. A plethora of threes may tell us the querent is growing in many directions at once and might benefit from prioritizing efforts. In general, this is a favorable card and is sometimes referred to as the first of the “three harmonies,” which also include the six and the nine.

The four, like a square made up of four points and four lines connecting them, represents stability. This can be positive if it represents something in which we desire stability, but it can also represent a state of stasis or stagnation. The four of roots can indicate financial stability, which is almost always a good thing; the four of blades represents a problem that simply won’t go away, and this is rarely desirable. Challenges are necessary to feel alive, and the presence of too many fours can indicate a querent who feels “stuck.”

The five topples the structure of the four. It is the first mobile shape: the pentagon. In the four, we have perfect symmetry; the five ruins this by throwing something unexpected into the mix. Fives communicate challenges and surprises, an element of chaos. The five of rods might mean the destabilization of something in one’s workplace or profession that requires a new approach. The five of vessels can indicate a potentially troublesome change in a relationship. Although the five is one of two discord cards (the other discord being the seven), the five is the lesser of the two and usually represents a challenge that can be overcome. These are often moments of learning and growth disguised as unpleasant circumstances. The five is best met with courage and flexibility, a willingness to try something new.

In the six, we return to the symmetry of the four, but now, we have sufficient lines to form a cube, a shape that is three-dimensional, stable, and full of harmony. Something is not only growing, but ready to be harvested. It has finally taken form. This is often related to an effort sown in the querent’s past. For example, the six of roots may signal that a past debt of some kind is about to be repaid or an investment of time and effort returned. A great deal of sixes in a spread may be a strong suggestion that the querent seize opportunities now before they rot on the vine. The harvest cannot wait. This is the second of the three cards referred to as “the three harmonies,” and it is usually a good sign.

The seven brings us to the more sinister of the cards known as the “two discords.” Although the five represented a challenging surprise, the seven’s offering is poisonous and wicked. Here lies cruelty, malice, and selfish impulse at the expense of others. This is not an opportunity, but a trap. If the numerical force of the six formed a harmonious cube, this is a box with something dreadful tucked inside. Faced with two or more sevens, the querent may feel anxious, but rest assured that the wickedness of the seven can almost always be weathered or overcome. If many sevens are here, now is a time to be on the lookout for malice and to treat others with an extra measure of kindness, just in case the wickedness of this card is unintentionally our own.

Eights are like wheels. They bring movement, change, and journeys. The force of the eight in the suit of vessels can be exhilarating with its suggestion of new infatuations and sexual exploits; the eight of roots less so, especially for a querent already nervous about finances. If too many of these unruly eights turn up in a spread, the querent might be encouraged to slow down and consider carefully before acting.

At last, we come to the nine. Here we encounter the final iteration of the “three harmonies.” In the six, we were able to reap previously sown efforts; in the nine, we have a bounty greater than we could have hoped for. This is the sudden windfall, the unforeseen romance, the remission of disease. It’s always more than we feel we deserve, and this is the strange challenge of the nine: feeling worthy. It’s harder than it sounds. Can the querent release enough defensiveness, doubt, and insecurity to accept the gift of the nine? For many people, especially those who have experienced trauma, joy and success can be terrifying things. If we’re too rigid and callous, lady luck may simply move on to the next lucky person. So much for our happy ending.

The ten is a fascinating card because it represents both the culmination of a suit and an ending, much akin to a kind of graduation. Something has been completed, and though it will always be a part of us, we must turn our attention towards something new to avoid becoming ghosts of our past. It can also represent finally arriving at a goal or at the pinnacle of some peak we once set out to climb. Too many tens in a spread can indicate grief for something that is now finished. Trying to hold on to it will only result in pain and entrapment. Better to celebrate the moment and move on.

THE COURT CARDS

Each of the court cards in a tarot deck represents a personality that is often an aspect of the querent. Depending on position, the querent may be counseled to embrace or release a particular power within themselves. In the Age of Witchery Tarot, each court figure is represented as masked, indicating the witch being shrouded in their fetch or spectral form, but also suggesting that each figure could represent any of us, or a personality aspect within any person.

Knaves represent learning and seeking. The Knave is on a journey to become something and is willing to embrace vulnerability and fallibility in order to learn. The Knave is imperfect, but accepts that as part of growth. He is also the most joyful and enraptured of the face cards because he sees the force of his particular suit with fresh and unjaded eyes.

Queens represent wisdom, craft, and cunning. Although the king imagines himself to be the mightiest, it is the queen who pulls the strings behind the scenes. She can see what lies ahead and is perceptive of others’ emotions and intentions. She relies on her experience and shrewd sensibilities to make wise choices. This wisdom may express itself as ice-cold honesty in the blades suit or as insightful empathy in the vessels suit. Because she is more inclined to thinking and talking, the queen can sometimes lack motivation and effort.

Kings value force and might. They have the largest egos and are prone to trampling on toes, but they are also the card most inclined to action and results. The king can make things happen, though his ham-fisted tactics may not accomplish his goals in the most careful way. The King of Vessels wants to be loved and acts from this need, but without the wisdom of the queen, the results are less than pleasant.

The Knight can, like the King, represent power, but in a different light. In feudalist systems, knights would be portioned some share of wealth and land, and so their military role would have granted them a somewhat elevated position. While the king seeks power in order to rule over a kingdom, following the vision of what he imagines to be the most beneficial creed of the land (regardless of the fact that it may not actually benefit anyone since the king is ultimately ego-driven), the knight seeks power purely for power’s sake. We can view him as a more violent and volatile expression of the reach for power, seeking to assume a higher position and status, but not necessarily considering the long-term ramifications of his actions in terms of actual leadership. At the same time, however, he is less desirous of owning and manipulating others, so we cannot simply describe him as a “worse” version of the king. Perhaps most simply, he is the aggressive and self-righteous impulse to action, regardless of the consequences.

THE TRUMPS

The trump cards (sometimes referred to as the “major arcana”) are heavy in symbolic imagery derived from a variety of sources, including medieval mystery plays, the danse macabre motif, European folklore, ancient pagan virtues, astrology, Greek mythology, and biblical texts and interpretations. While we do not know who illustrated the first tarot deck, we can surmise that the artist drew on these sources (consciously or unconsciously) in order to craft the basis of a card game with an air of wit, playfulness, and mystery. More importantly, whether intentional or not, these cards have so impressed themselves upon our collective memory that they have taken on a life of their own and now offer a door to much spiritual mystery.

Rather than relying upon tables of qabalistic correspondences and assigned keywords, the folk witch method of reading the Marseille tarot involves observing what is actually present in the imagery of the cards, using common sense to discern the theme and careful pattern analysis to understand the structure that guides them.

In the Star, for example, we have a siren enjoying the quiet sea in a beautiful night-time scene. We might read this card as representing freedom from convention (being alone in the open water), gratitude for generosity (her serene kingdom of water), appreciation for beauty (the landscape and the beautiful siren), or vulnerability, depending on its position in a spread and the intuition of the reader.

A topic rarely addressed in tarot writing is the observation of inherent patterns in the trumps. Rather than seeking to impose an external pattern or structure in the manner of qabalistic tarot studies, we can look closely at what is actually in the deck to discern a few distinct structures at work.

On the one hand, the progression of the cards has a broadening scope, beginning quite small and localized with the Fool (technically number zero), who is depicted as a mad vagabond roaming the wilderness, at the mercy of the dog chasing and biting him. The trumps increase in scope until we at last reach the World, the most all-encompassing trump. Each card is meant to be read as more powerful and influential than the one before it, and we, as players (or in our case, cartomancers), are left to wonder where we stand in this grand design. This ever-expanding movement that we witness through the trump suit echoes the cosmologies of early modern period, which imagined the universe as a series of spheres reaching outward, with earth and the human self placed at its center. While we understand today that the universe is vast and we are by no means its center or reason for existing, this view is ingrained in the structure of the tarot, and it still has something to offer us today. As a useful exercise, consider setting the trumps out before you in order, one at a time, and considering how and why this sequence exists. Why, for instance, might the Star have been considered beyond the reach of the Tower’s disaster? Why is the humble Hermit outside of the influence of Justice?

While the vast forces depicted in the trump sequence, such as the Sun and Moon and even Death itself, may naturally make us feel small as they dwarf the human figures in the cards, we must remember what the trumps ultimately are: cards. We are meant to hold them, to shuffle them, to manipulate them, to play with them like toys, and in these actions, we are empowered in both game and ritual. We are like the early humans who began developing the art of language, wielding sign and symbol that feel too grand and potent for us, but are nonetheless tools at our disposal. We are, when wielding the trumps, like gods ourselves, moving the forces of the universe about in our hands, and so it is no wonder that this inherently magical act is part of the reason our cards were associated with sorcery and witchcraft from very early in their history.

Building upon this concept of expansive movement through the trump sequence, we can also witness certain synergies. Many of the cards that appear in a sequence of three contain a kind of riddle to do with how two distinct forces (the first and third) come together to influence another (the second). For example, the Hanged Man falls directly between Strength and Death in the original trump ordering. What might this original order mean? In Strength, we see a figure prying open the mouth of a ferocious lion, uninhibited by fear and unravaged by the beast. In Death, we witness the familiar version of the reaper born of the danse macabre tradition of illustrations: a corpse gleefully wielding his scythe. Our Hanged Man, who falls in the middle, is the victim of “baffling,” a form of punishment in olden days in which the victim was hung upside down until he expired, presumably from brain hemorrhaging. If Strength suggests power over ferocious forces, what do we become when we attempt to wield power over the unmovable, when we refuse to accept the truth of Death as a natural power that cannot be conquered? It would be wise for us to examine the trump sequence in threes in order to study the logic of previous centuries and what it may have to teach us today.

The other key structure we can discern from analyzing the trump sequence is a kind of pairing and reflecting that seems to be quite intentional. Certain cards mirror one another in ways that transcend mere coincidence, and by exploring these pairs, we can better understand the imagery in the cards and their significance. Here, then, are some observable pairings for the reader’s own exploration and experimentation.

The Empress and The Emperor

It was long the understanding of previous ages that men and women ruled over different spheres in life, but most modern Marseille readers disregard the misogyny of this assumption and focus instead on those spheres themselves, which may apply to both men and women based on personality rather than gender. While the Emperor rules over the external affairs of his many territories, expanding and reinforcing his power over many kingdoms, the Empress’ power is within the palace and the court. It is she who moves the players about within the inner sphere of power, and in truth, it is she who most influences the Emperor himself, directing his attention to those projects that suit her fancy. These two approach power in different ways and can be said to depict different types and structures of power within which we operate under our various laws and various countries.

The Popess and The Pope

Much like the Empress and Emperor, the Popess and Pope depict different types of authority that exist beyond the scope of laws. These are the authorities of belief, of morals and conventions and societal expectations. Our “pope” here is none other than the fabled Man in Black of witch-lore, meeting with his witches in the woods in order to impart direction and guidance, a figure of literal spiritual authority. Our “Popess,” however, is a witch empowered by the grimoire representing her own inner resources and years of learning. Our Popess can be said to signify the power of belief held inwardly, of the ethics, values, and spiritual laws we develop within ourselves and for ourselves. She can also indicate a sense of righteousness within us even when external forces would disagree.

The Devil and The Lovers

In the case of the Lovers, we have a meeting between the witch and her Devil, presumably to arrange some manner of pact or make good on its promises. Their body language suggests love and admiration between the two, but there is also an important decision to be made, a turning point with potentially grave consequences. We must be careful with our promises. The Devil, too, represents a gathering and consummation, here depicted as the great feasting table of the witches’ sabbat, with the Devil sitting at its head. You are all mine, the Devil seems to say. You feast at my pleasure. While the Devil represents those things we fear, he also represents things we desire greatly, but are perhaps too afraid to seize for ourselves. He is decisive action, conviction and potency, whereas The Lovers represents desire and hesitation in the face of the decision.

The Sun and The Moon

While probably the most obvious pairing in the trump sequence, this reflective pair of astral bodies is still worth dissecting, for these figures are enduring in myth and folklore, and they will never run out of lessons for us. While the Sun hovers over a pair of happy youths, the Moon perches over a surreal gathering of enchanters and familiar spirits. In previous ages, it was commonly believed that the moon ruled over dreams and madness, which transformed humans into beasts, while the sun was seen as orderly and healthful, providing the cycles necessary to daily life. Today, we know better, of course: both the cycles of the sun and the moon are necessary to the balance of the natural world. Without the Moon, we are insomniacs, either literally or figuratively, unable to sleep or unable to dream and envision. Without the Sun, we are unable to see things clearly in the light, lost in mists and fog and illusion, and perhaps in our own imaginings of what might be lingering in the dark.

Death and The Fool

This pairing is less obvious from an image analysis perspective, but the naming and ordering devices at work in the trump sequence make it clearer. Death is the only card that is not given a name, represented simply as card XIII, and the Fool is the only card not given a number. Both are treated by special rules in the trump sequence, and so we must consider them together and try to discern what sets them apart. The Fool is perhaps the most vulnerable character; even his clothing is falling apart as he stumbles through the wilds, chased and harried by an imp. The Italian name for this card, “Il Matto,” signifies both a beggar and an insane person. In many folktales, it is the wandering beggar who secretly possesses great wisdom and power, but on a literal level, this figure is quite pitiful. Death, on the other hand, is invulnerable and permanent. It is a deep truth of the universe that all things must die in their time. In these two, we see the human actor, vulnerable and naked as he is, and the arena of law in which he must act, the self alongside the final truth that gives meaning and purpose to the choices we make. Without the truth of Death, who are we? Ironically, it is in the fact that our time is limited that we find motivation and drive to make the journey in the first place. It is only in the foreknowledge of our end that we can truly live and appreciate living.

Justice and Temperance

Both of these principles can be readily identified as “cardinal virtues” that the church adopted from the classical pagan world. These are meant to be understood as principles to live by, qualities to foster in oneself and in those around us, and deep values of a harmonious society. While Justice refers to a careful balance of action in consideration of others, Temperance signifies a balance held within the self. These are, in truth, the same principle interpreted through the lenses of the internal and the external. When acting with Justice, we act with consideration of the needs of others, paying our debts and abiding by laws so as not to inhibit the necessary freedoms of others as we seek those things that matter to us. When acting with Temperance, we exercise self-restraint when engaging in our pleasures and caution when straining ourselves, taking all things in moderation so as not to spoil the pleasures of life with slovenly excess or poison the disciplines we enjoy with unnecessary suffering.

Strength and The Magician

These two figures, on a visual level, appear to be wearing the same hat in the Marseille illustrations, but on deeper analysis, we find many more meaningful parallels between them. In the renaissance mind, there was little distinction made between the conjurer and the stage magician; both were seen as mysterious trickster figures in popular literature, and the lines were frequently blurred between them because they were considered to have power over the minds of others, to manipulate perception in order to achieve their ends. Similarly, the figure depicted in Strength wields power over those brutal forces in life that would otherwise destroy us, in this case shown as a beast. Again, as in the Sun and Moon cards, we see a value statement regarding the human and animal worlds. To wield power over the beast would have been considered by our ancestors a sign of strength, but to wield power over human minds via illusions would have been a violation of reason. No matter. In these two cards, we can simply interpret two iterations of control pushed in different directions.

Judgment and The Star

Here, we find two signs of divine intervention, though of two very different varieties. In ancient times, the morning star was recognized as Venus, but also associated with Lucifer, the light-chaser, who was later synergized mythologically as an aspect of the Devil. Even later, the star was associated with the birth of Christ and the promise of the salvation of the world. In previous ages, though, the morning star was simply a sign of hope, of the coming of dawn even while darkness surrounds us, and the siren in this card is serenely swimming, naked, unafraid to be vulnerable and alone in the night. Hope in this card seems to be a nourishing force, but we must take it without sign or token that our dreams will ever come about. We have only the symbol of the star to guide us through the night. Judgment, on the other hand, depicts the upheaval of a vessel at sea, presumably the work of the witch and her Devil, who look on from their small boat. This act of vengeance is surely repayment for some slight in the past. Will the two save the figure bobbing in the ocean, or have they simply rowed closer in order to dole out more punishment?

The Chariot and The Hanged Man

These two cards speak to one another not for their similarities, but because they could not be more different in nature. The Chariot depicts a devil’s joyful flight astride his broom, soaring to new heights, reveling in his freedom and success. The Hanged Man, on the other hand, conveys humiliation, punishment, entrapment, and social ostracization. It is worth noting that “baffling,” the form of upside-down hanging we see here, was a sentence carried out for those labeled as traitors, perhaps inflicted as a kind of poetic justice upon those whose loyalties were perceived as inverted. Do these two figures deserve their wildly differing fates? Is it fair? Why do some reach such heights while others have no ground to stand on?

The Tower and The Hermit

The Tower is a complex card, but its root is the breaking and shattering of things in order to make room for something new that must come about. Here, a man is dropped from a great height, and his fall is symbolic of the fall we experience when we seemingly lose the things most important to our stability, to our sense of self. The Hermit, meanwhile, seeks after the breakage of the society’s shackles and the dissolution of the self, to unravel the mysteries of his own soul in order to find salvation within. We can also view this pair as a commentary on the ruin of overreaching, of imagining oneself to be more important than we may actually be, and the price of self-impoverishment and heavy-handed forms of modesty and discipline, which leave us isolated and deprived of all comforts.

The Wheel of Fortune and The World

Both of these cards depict a version of Fortuna, goddess of Fortune, who is said to balance on a great globe, frequently depicted with a ship’s wheel as her emblem. In metaphysical terms, we can understand these two as time or circumstance (the Wheel) and space or physicality (the World), and from that perspective, it is only in the rotations and permutations of these two that all human affairs exist. In readings, though, the Wheel tells us that something has changed, for its imagery is an old world trope depicting persons of various positions in society (here, devils) rotating as it turns. One figure appears to be at the top of the wheel for now, but it is sure to turn, so we cannot assume he will be there forever. Similarly, all of the World is merely an orb upon which Fortuna treads, turning it this way and that, the lesson of which seems to be that we are, ultimately, small and insignificant in terms of the greater picture. About her, four figures represent the four winds and cardinal directions, an arena in which she moves as she pleases.

Other, sometimes imperfect pairings exist outside of these arrangements, and they are still worth considering in the study of the trumps. The Devil and The Star, for instance, seem rooted in two streams of discourse surrounding the figure of Lucifer as both the morning star and the ruler of Hell. The fact that these two cards find the Tower between them can be no mere coincidence.

Pairs not detailed here seem to contain riddles that players of card games hundreds of years in the past may have understood more keenly than we are capable of grasping today. The cartomancer would be wise to sit with observable pairings for exercises in reflection and close observation of the imagery they contain. All cartomancy, both tarot-based and playing card-based, has roots in the practice of reflective thought. From this basic practice of quietly observing patterns and meaning, we derive our great wealth of divinatory and magical practice.

THREE TAROT SPREADS

The Three-Card Spread

This is a very common-sense spread. The card on the left is read as the releasing current, indicating that which is departing and must be released in order to move forward. The card on the right is read as the embracing current, representing something that must be accepted or embodied. The center card is a resource or strength at the querent’s disposal, something to help with the challenge of this transition.

The Five-Card Spread

This spread is made up of one card placed in the center, and four cards placed above, beneath, to the left, and to the right of the central card, forming a cross. The horizontal line is read in much the same manner as a three-card spread with a releasing current to the left, an embracing current to the right, and a current resource at the center. The vertical line is read as indicative of motivations; the higher card speaks to goals and ambitions, while the lower card indicates how those desires manifest in actions, which are not always in alignment. Helping the querent translate their higher goals into earthly efforts is one of the strengths of this spread.

The Nine-Card Spread

The nine-card spread forms a perfect three-by-three layout. This spread along with the sixteen-card spread are the most complex to read because they rely on the observation of patterns as described in the previous section. Three-card sequences, read either vertically or horizontally, can be interpreted in the manner of three-card spreads, but these lines should be considered together. Because of the symmetry of the square, certain cards “reflect” one another and can be consulted together. For example, two opposing corners can be considered as a reflective pair. Are they harmonious, or are they conflicted? How might this reveal the querent’s inner harmonies or conflicts?

In addition to the spreads provided here, the wise cartomancer will surely develop unique, personal spreads, as have readers over many centuries, in order to more finely tune their craft to their own needs. Don’t be afraid to grow in your own direction, for this is how it has always been done: a reader sits before the cards, trusting their intuition to guide their approach. May your journey with the tarot be illuminating, reader, and may it be your own.

Also by Roger J. Horne:

Cartomancy in Folk Witchcraft: Playing Cards and Marseille Tarot in Divination, Magic, and Lore

Folk Witchcraft: A Guide to Lore, Land, and the Familiar Spirit for the Solitary Practitioner

The Witch’s Art of Incantation: Spoken Charms, Spells, and Curses in Folk Witchcraft

The Witches’ Devil: Myth and Lore for Modern Cunning

A Broom at Midnight: Thirteen Gates of Witchcraft by Spirit Flight

Share: