All posts by MQS

Living at the intersection of occultism, fiction and philosophy, I travel the planes at a moderately quick pace. I read, I do magic, I cook for hubby. Confused by the number of things I talk about? Good, confusion is a nice thing ;)

Bolognese Tarot – Il Tarocchino di Bologna by Andrea Vitali and Terry Zanetti (Review)

The literary landscape in Italy is rather dismal, as far as the occult arts are concerned, even though in recent years something seems to be changing. But Il Tarocchino di Bologna (the Little Tarot of Bologna) by Andrea Vitali and Terry Zanetti is not a very recent book, and this makes its outstanding quality even more of a surprise.

The book is divided into several sections, some authored by Vitali and some by Zanetti. Andrea Vitali is possibly the greatest living tarot historian (and a damn good diviner too), the one who has shed the most light on the history and origins of the tarot, bursting a lot of bubbles in the process. His section is, as usual, well documented and written, and generally aims at showing that the tarot probably originated not in Milan but in Bologna.

But, as undisputed as Vitali’s expertise in the field, our focus in this review is Zanetti’s section on cartomancy. This is well organized and competently written. Aside from a brief preamble, the largest part of her section of the book is dedicated to the meanings of the cards, which she has researched in various ways, including by looking for old decks with the meanings written on them.

Zanetti, like Celi (and currently like me), uses a 45-card deck. The deck, however, differs: instead of one Stranger, she uses two, one of them taking the place of the Ten of Coins. As I mentioned elsewhere, these discrepancies are to be expected from a tool of popular divination that was invented in a non-globalized world of isolated villages and streets. Even some of the meanings differ, as I explained in this post, where I talked about the fact that she interprets the Page of Swords not as a letter but as a young man.

Each card is presented with their Italian and Bolognese dialect name, a brief iconographic rundown, the list of meanings, an example reading with a three-card method, a saying from the Bolognese popular tradition that illustrates the meaning of the card, and a combination. Some combinations are exceedingly curious and stray far way from the original meanings of the cards.

The spreads covered by Zanetti are also interesting and worth studying. One is a variation of the great staircase spread I talked about, but Zanetti gives very specific and somewhat rigid rules for interpreting it. She then covers a pyramid spread and a variation of the cross spread, the thirteen card spread and, finally an oracle made up of only three cards.

The only small concern is the rigidity with which Zanetti treats combinations of two cards. My experience is that cards must be first and foremost combined logically based on the context of the question and the other cards, but she asserts that when two specific cards come together they always have a specific meaning regardless of everything.

This, I have found, may be true when many cards come together. For instance, even if you ask about love, if someone in your life is about to drop dead, lots of cards will amass in that regard, not just two. Yet Zanetti treats two-card combos as if they were powerful enough to transcend the question (and yes, she does give a combination about death). Again, this is a question of method and personal experience. It does not detract from the validity of her experience, but it does highlight one of its peculiar traits.

So is this book worth having? To this my answer is a big fat yes. Both Vitali’s and Zanetti’s sections are well thought-out and insightful.

Where to get: Amazon

MQS

The Day I Exploded (Example Reading)

I don’t remember talking about it here, but I was asked to teach evening Italian classes at the local school, mostly for adults (in that most students are adult, not because I teach NSFW vocabulary).

I have been having fun using the cards to predict how the classes would go. They are mostly accurate, although obviously their meanings must be toned down a bit to apply to the situation. One glaring example of the cards predicting something major is this spread on yesterday’s class.

How will the class go?

I’ll tell you what happened, and then we’ll get into the spread, especially since I didn’t predict anything ahead of time, so this is more of an exercise.

What happened was that one of the students, a man who sould have reached the age of reason some years ago, decided that I wasn’t paying enough attention to him. So when I asked him a question he reacted angrily, throwing a hissy fit and questioning me and my method. I reacted more maturely, yelling back at him that he can either get on with my method or be gone, at which point I invited him to leave.

Now let’s look at the cards I drew that evening before class. The cards are quite clear in this case, probably because what happened was relatively major compared to a boring day reading.

The King of Diamonds is ‘some dude’. He doesn’t come up as a Spade, so he’s not a sworn enemy or anything. The K♦️ dominates the spread from the center, so the situation revolves around him. The Two of Spades can be anger, while the Four of Spades can be an obstacle, but with negative cards it becomes a clean break.

So upheaval is to be expected in the relationship to this man. Since the Five of Spades ends the spread, this upheaval is unlikely to be reconciled. Especially since the Six of Hearts, the card of conciliation, is surrounded by all these spades, so it is as if the cards were saying “the conciliation is not” or, in English, there won’t be conciliation. Paradoxically, therefore, the 6♥️ worsens the spread by its presence.

MQS

Deriving Meanings From a Keyword

When someone teaches someone else the traditional meanings of the cards, they often don’t waste too much time giving them a rundown of all the applications of the one or two keywords they give them, especially at the beginning. Keep in mind that in many traditions, at least in Italy, the initial instructions for card reading are passed down on Christmas Eve, so the explanations must be quick enough to fit into one evening where you have plenty of other stuff to do.

Usually, the initial instruction is followed up by a more thorough explanation later, but the new reader is also expected to “lavorare le carte”, literally to “work the cards“. This means that while they are being given a vocabulary (the keywords) and some grammar and syntax (the various spreads and combinations) they are supposed to develop their own language.

Think about it: we all speak English on this blog, yet each of us speaks a different version of it, not only because some of us are native speakers while some aren’t, and not just because some come from the US, some from GB, some from Australia, etc. but also, and especially, because each speaker of a language has their own slightly different version of it, owing to their character, personal history, experiences, education, talents and many other factors.

This may sound like an admission that language is random and infinitely pliable at will, but it isn’t. Your own language is an emanation of you as a person, but who you are as a person is not fully under your control. In fact, the diviner and occultist in me believes that it is only very slightly under your control.

What is true for regular speech is true for the speech of the cards. Once you are given the meanings of the cards, it is not a matter of reinventing them, but rather of discovering how the meanings work for you, of understanding what your particular, individual dialect is. This is a never-ending process, because the language of divination is a difficult second language to learn and because there is no human native that can help us.

But let’s discuss an example of how you take a single keyword and turn it into a web of interrelated meanings. In the Bolognese Tarot, which is my current obsession and is quickly becoming one of my favorite systems, the Queen of Coins is called “the truth”. There. If you were sitting on grandma’s lap on Christmas Eve and she were passing the meanings down to you, that’s what she would say. The truth. Period.

The truth is a complex thing, and throughout history different people have understood it to be something different. In itself, it is an abstract concept. After receiving it, you need to make it concrete, i.e., you need to discover how the word “truth” is used in your particular divination dialect. Let’s give it a try (and this is my dialect, obviously. It may or may not overlap with yours).

The truth is what truthful people tell, so obviously the card qualifies people as truthful, dependable, reliable. Next to a person card, the person will be all these things, probably.

Once you know the truth about something, you know about it. Knowledge is therefore another aspect of truth. Who has knowledge? Professors, for sure, and people who have studied something. One might counter that so many graduates today are ignorant fools filled with prejudices they never questioned. And one would be right. Archetypally, though, the connection (the ‘signature’) holds, similarly to how astrologically scholars are ruled by Mercury, even if scholars are often up their asses.

Study, teaching, learning, explaining, science, discovering, bringing to light, intellectual (or at least not physical) occupations seem to also be concepts that beautifully complement that lonely keyword “truth”. But all these aren’t just descriptions for abstract knowledge. What is a less abstract form of knowledge? Expertise, for sure. If you call the plumber, he may not be able to tell you how the categories of Aristotle’s logic apply to your toilet, but he sure knows how to stop it puking out scum. And that’s a good deal more helpful. So a plumber with the truth on his side is certainly a plumber you want to hire.

Today, the word wisdom is almost forgotten, or relegated to describing dubious practices with no scientific stamp of approval. But wisdom used to be deeply connected to knowledge. The Queen of Coins, therefore, surely describes the ability to lead your life the right way, or to lead others the right way.

Especially in the West, the idea of truth has always been connected with the ability to see. “I see” we say, when we understand something. This may sound shallow, but it actually has its roots in the old Greek notion that the truth is what the mind sees beyond the illusions of the senses. The word “idea”, which is what we have in our minds and which we hope to be a truthful representation of reality, comes from the root ‘vid-‘, which is the same root as the latin ‘videre’, to see. So the Queen of Coins stands for sight and for the eyes, and for windows, which bring light (understanding) into the home and from which we see how the world outside looks like. And so on and so forth.

These associations can be discovered by practice and by decoding the combinations that are usually passed down. Again, it is not a matter of making up. It is, literally, a process of discovery.

MQS

A Bolognese Tarot Course

I often get messages from people asking me how to learn the tarocchino. This makes me happy, because it means this extremely old divination tradition is slowly getting the attention it deserves.

I had the blessing of knowing a great teacher, Germana Tartari, whose first book I reviewed (and whose two other books I shall review in the near future). She taught me how to read the 50 card method.

For those interested, a course by her will start on 15 January. You can read more about it on the website of the Accademia degli Studi Ermetici

Tarot Encyclopedia – Ten of Swords

(Note: this is a collection of the meanings attributed to the cards by some occultists in the past centuries. It does not reflect my own study or opinion of the cards. It is only meant as a quick comparative reference as I develop my own take.) 

The Ten of Swords from the Builders of the Adytum (BOTA) tarot deck

Paul Foster Case (and Ann Davies)

The time period is the third decanate of Gemini, June 11 to June 21, under the rulership of Saturn and Uranus.
Well-Dignified: in spiritual matters, the end of delusion; the overthrow of limiting conditions; break-up of restrictions. In material affairs, sudden and unexpected changes, not always unfortunate in the long run, but disappointing when experienced: interference from from others. and.loss through indiscretion in writmg or signing contracts.
lll-Dignifled: failure, desolation, misery.
Keyword: Destruction
(From the Oracle of Tarot course)

A. E. Waite

A prostrate figure, pierced by all the swords belonging to the card. Divinatory Meanings: Whatsoever is intimated by the design; also pain, affliction, tears, sadness, desolation. It is not especially a card of violent death. Reversed: Advantage, profit, success, favour, but none of these are permanent; also power and authority.
(From The Pictorial Key to the Tarot)

The Ten of Swords from the Rider Waite Smith tarot

Aleister Crowley

The Ten of Swords is called Ruin. It teaches the lesson which statesmen should have learned, and have not; that if one goes on fighting long enough, all ends in destruction.

Yet this card is not entirely without hope. The Solar influence rules; ruin can never be complete, because disaster is a sthenic disease. As soon as things are bad enough, one begins to build up again. When all the Governments have smashed each other, there still remains the peasant. At the end of Candide’s misadventures, he could still cultivate his garden.

[…]

The number Ten, Malkuth, as always, represents the culmination of the unmitigated energy of the idea. It shows reason run mad, ramshackle riot of soulless mechanism; it represents the logic of lunatics and (for the most part) of philosophers. It is reason divorced from reality. The card is also ruled by the Sun in Gemini, but the mercurial airy quality of the Sign serves to disperse his rays; this card shows the disruption and disorder of harmonious and stable energy.

The hilts of the Swords occupy the positions of the Sephiroth, but the points One to Five and Seven to Nine touch and shatter the central Sword (six) which represents the Sun, the Heart, the child of Chokmah and Binah. The tenth Sword is also in splinters. It is the ruin of the Intellect, and even of all mental and moral qualities.

In the Yi King, Sol in Gemini is the virtue of the 43rd Hexagram, Kwai, the Watery modification of the Phallus; also, by the interlacing interpretation, the harmony of these two same Trigrams.

The signification is perfectly harmonious with that of the Ten of Swords It represents the damping down of the Creative impulse, weakness, corruption, or mirage affecting that principle itself. But, viewing the Hexagram as a weapon or method of procedure, it counsels the ruler to purge the state of unworthy officers. Curiously, the invention of written characters to replace knotted strings is ascribed among Chinese scholars to the use of this hexagram by the sages. Gemini is ruled by Thoth; 10 is the key of the Naples Arrangement; and Apollo (Sol) is the patron of literature and the arts: so his suggestion might appear at least no less suitable to the Qabalistic correspondences than to their double emphasis on Water and the Sun. Apart from this, however, the parallelism is complete.
(From the Book of Thoth)

The Ten of Swords from the Thoth tarot deck

Golden Dawn’s Book T

FOUR hands holding eight swords, as in the preceding symbol; the points falling away from each other. Two hands hold two swords crossed in the centre, as though their junction had disunited the others. No rose, flower or bud, is shewn. Above and below are Sun and Gemini, representing the Decan.

Almost a worse symbol than the Nine of Swords. Undisciplined, warring force, complete disruption and failure. Ruin of all plans and projects. Disdain, insolence and impertinence, yet mirth and jollity therewith. A marplot, loving to overthrow the happiness of others; a repeater of things; given to much unprofitable speech, and of many words. Yet clever, eloquent, etc., according to dignity.

Malkuth of HB:V (Ruin, death, defeat, disruption).
Herein the Angels HB:DMBYH and HB:MNQAL reign

Etteilla

Affliction
Upright. In terms of spiritual medicine, this card, in its natural position, signifies: Crying, Tears, Sobbing, Moaning, Sighing, Lamenting, Complaining, Afflictions, Regrets, Sadness, Pain, Wailing, Lamentations [= Poetic lamentations], Desolation.
Reversed. Advantage, Gain, Profit, Success. – Grace, Favor, Benefit. – Ascendant, Power, Empire, Authority, Might, Usurpation.

MQS

Happy New Year!

I know I won’t be able to write this later, so I wish everyone who comes across this a happy new year in advance!

It’s been a rather difficult year for me, but it seems to be ending on a more positive note, kind of a final upward curl, and this I wish to all the visitors to my blog (not the difficult year, just the upward curl ;))

I’m not making any concrete plans for next year as far as the site is concerned, except that I want to keep working at it consistently (hopefully more consistently than in the last couple of months)

Wherever you are in the world, thanks for stopping by

MQS

Which Deck is Chatty, and Why?

I recently received some questions from a visitor to this website. One of them was in which sense the Sibilla is considered “chiacchierina”, i.e., chatty.

This is an interesting question, because it gets to the heart of how divination works (and not just divination with cards). I don’t want to foster the belief that the Sibilla is more capable of conveying information than other divination systems. This would be false advertising. Every deck and every system is capable of informing us.

But the way in which the Sibilla informs us is rather unique. Here we get into the specific character that each deck and system has. The Sibilla is like an off-beat aunt with a poor sense of boundaries.

A girl once asked me how her crush for a guy would develop. The girl had moved in with her grandma and the grandma disapproved of the guy. The Sibilla started off not with an answer to the question, but by telling me that the girl’s grandma disapproved of the situation. If I had asked another one of the decks I work with, I probably would have gotten a more straightforward answer.

It takes working with each deck in order to understand their language and personality, but these always emerge sooner or later. This is also probably why old folk diviners believed that each deck has a spirit attached to it that lives inside its cards and infuses them with its peculiar traits, a belief that I tend to share, since it explains this phenomenon much better than the impersonal Jungian theory of synchronicity.

The reality is that each (valid) divination system is chatty in its own way. I’ve heard the Bolognese tarot being referred to as chatty, and as I work with it I understand that its chattiness really is a factor, even though it is less chaotic than the Sibilla.

MQS

The Tower As A Place

I did a reading recently with the Bolognesw tarot that I unfortunately forgot to record. It was one of those instances of “of course I will remember it.” The one thing I do remember is that the Tower featured prominently in the reading and did not take on a nefarious meaning, instead just indicating a place other than the home.

This gave me the idea of collecting here the combinations I have actually experimented in practice so far.

Tower + Queen of Coins (Truth) = School, Place of learning (this combo was in the reading I did recently)

Tower + Ace of Coins (Table) = Restaurant

Tower + Moon (Bad stuff) + Hermit (Isolation, Blockage) = Hospital

Tower + Ten of Cups (Fun) = Bar, Club or similar

Tower + World (big) = A palace (in the example of the reading I did, it was a tourist attraction)

It is not an endless list, as you can see, but then again the Tower doesn’t always come up in a reading, and when it does it doesn’t always indicate a place, and when it does it isn’t always clear what kind of place it represents, based on the other cards. But this short list is what my experience has borne out so far, and it clearly shows how the cards operate as small particles of meaning that gravitate toward each other to create complex structures.

Obviously, much depends on the context and on the other cards. The Ace of Coins, for instance, is the table, but it is also a big money card, so with other material cards it could turn the Tower into a bank instead of a restaurant. What I can say for certain at this point is that my experience with the Bolognese tarot shows the Tower isn’t necessarily an evil place (like a hospital or a prison) as some strands of the tradition seem to indicate, but its meaning can be modified by the presence of positive cards.

MQS

Boterkoek and Basterdsuiker

I mentioned around a year ago that I was learning Chinese. I still am, but after four months spent on the wrong side of mental health I decided I needed an easy win, and that’s not Chinese.

So I picked up Dutch, which, since I’m proficient in English and German, is proving to be remarkably easy. Think of it as German lite with extensive English overlaps. The grammar is essentially the same as that of German, but heavily simplified, and around 80% of the vocabulary is covered by English and German together, plus the occasional Latin influence (which is not a problem, since I’m Italian). The main challenge is pronunciation, and with it listening comprehension, but that will come with time.

When learning a foreign language it’s always a good thing to explore one’s interests through the lens of that language, and in my case that includes cooking. In short: I didn’t realize that Dutch sweets and cakes were so delicious! Within a few weeks of finishing the first Dutch course I found myself pulling up recipe after recipe from my bookmarks, until I settled on my first experiment.

My new love interest is called boterkoek, literally butter cake. The taste of the raw dough is not too dissimilar from that of Scottish shortbread, another favorite of mine. Like shortbread, the taste is heavily influenced by the butter (you don’t say) and by the interplay of sugar and the oh-so-important little teaspoon of salt.

One of the differences lies in the type of sugar that is used. As far as I know, shortbread requires regular sugar, while boterkoek, just like many other Dutch cakes and cookies, utilizes something called basterdsuiker. I am not sure what it is, exactly, but it is almost completely impossible to come by outside of Belgium and the Netherlands, so I made it myself. The result is akin to a wettish, aromatic, caramel-like sugar.

Boterkoek with basterdsuiker

The recipe I followed is this one, but since it’s in Dutch I’ll describe what I did.

To make the “bastard sugar” I poured 250g of sugar (8.8 oz) into a bowl and added 2.5 tablespoons of sugar beet syrup. I believe most other kinds of syrups will do, such as agave syrup or molasses. The recipe says you should be working with a fork to mix the two together, but I lost my patience after a few seconds and resorted to brute force with my hands. So it only took a minute to make the sugar and licking my hands at the end was extra fun.

For the cake, I mixed the basterdsuiker with 300g of all purpose flour (10.5 oz). Then I cut 250g of cold butter (8.8 oz) into small chunks, added it to the mix together with a good deal of lemon zest and 1.5 teaspoons of salt. Don’t skimp on the salt: it’s what creates the contrast with the sugar. I whisked a large egg and added a little more than half of it to the dough, then kneaded all together by hand. The final texture should be firm and sticky, not too dissimilar from raw cookie dough or shortcrust, but more moist than shortcrust.

I pressed the dough into a form lined with parchment, making sure to spread it evenly, then brushed the surface with the rest of the beaten egg and used a fork to create the design you see in the picture, and that you probably see better in the recipe I linked. Then off in the oven it went, at 180°C (355 Fahrenheit) for a little under 25 minutes (the recipe calls for 30 minutes, but my oven pulls no punches).

MQS