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 ;)
In the Vera Sibilla, the Sixes represent the natural evolution of the number Five. Whereas Fives dealt with transition, the Sixes represent the flow of time, with all its philosophical annexes: the idea of duration (or lack thereof), the notions of past, present and future, etc.
The four Sixes in the Vera Sibilla: The Six of Hearts (Money), The Six of Clubs (Surprise), The Six of Diamonds (Thought), The Six of Spades (Sighs)
The Six of Hearts is called Money. A better name for it would perhaps be The Safe or The Archive, because while it is true that it does represent money, liquid assets and wealth, this meaning is derived from the idea of accumulation which is a consequence of the traditional meaning of the Six of Hearts in cartomancy in Italy: the past.
And, indeed, the past is one of the main meanings of the Money card, strange as this may sound. Often, when together with a court card, it shows someone whom we already know, or an ex. In general, this card shows that we inherit something from the past, whether it be a situation, a person, an illness (which maybe we haven’t treated properly, or simply one that runs in the family, i.e. a hereditary disease), etc.
Money, the other main meaning of this card, is simply a logical consequence of the notion of time (number six) understood in a positive sense (suit of Hearts), i.e. as a resource and therefore as convertible in resources to be accumulated. Note that, reversed, the Six of Hearts talks about the future, as in future occurrences, unknown places, situations and people. It also heralds money trouble, but it is especially a card of avarice, i.e. unwillingness to let go of what we already have (or of the past).
At the opposite end of the spectrum, the Six of Spades, Sighs, is the card of anxiety and tormented hope. This card, too, can represent something that already happened, but this time it doesn’t show it in a neutral way, but as a source of anguish. More in general, however, rather than to the past, this card is connected with the passage of time as a neutral-to-negative element that comes between us and our desire: the need to wait.
When reversed, one of the meanings of the Six of Spades is that it can represent the idea of letting go of our tormented desires or of our anxiety concerning the past. This is one of the cards that can show, when reversed, opening up to new possibilities rather than clinging to what causes us nothing but grief.
It’s the ability to step outside of ourselves or of our issue and listen to reason, whether it’s in the form of new inspiration or some professional advice. When surrounded by more neutral or negative cards, however, it remains a card of instability, material or psychological even when reversed.
In between Hearts and Spades we find the Six of Clubs, the Surprise, and the Six of Diamonds, Thought. The Six of Clubs is the card of the present time. It represents things happening now, or at least in the very near future. With it are connected the ideas of suddenness and immediacy, and therefore marvel and surprise, of coming across something that was unexpected. Since the suit of Clubs is positive, this unexpected surprise is usually positive.
Taking this idea of “chancing upon” further, we get to the meanings of receiving, getting, acquiring that this card also shows. But this is also the card of things that start flourishing. Note how, in the image, the guy is fishing a bag of money out of a river or lake, which means that, while the result was beyond his expectations, he did have to cast his net. As such, this is the card of minimum effort for great results: small past efforts paying off in the present and possibly heralding a positive future.
Finally, the Six of Diamonds, Thought, also represents the present, but it’s more the a-temporal present that exists in the mind, rather than the physical present of the Six of Clubs. As the card of consciousness, the Six of Diamonds is the point where past, present and future converge and are organized, made sense of and shaped into alternative ideas of reality that we then seek to act out.
As such, this card also shows plans, ideas, etc. Not necessarily true ideas, not necessarily good plans, and not necessarily plans that we are going to be able to act out: this is the card of pure consciousness, the timeless present which fluctuates above the flow of real time.
The Eights in the Vera Sibilla are a natural continuation of the sevens. They represent the concept of balance and evolution toward balance. If you look at the number 8, you’ll see that it’s made up of two loops, which represent the inside or inner world and the outside or outer world. One of the two loops is represented by the “intention” set forth by the number seven, while the other loop represents whether or not that intention finds actual expression in reality.
The Eights in the Vera Sibilla: The Eight of Hearts (Hope), The Eight of Clubs (Reunion), The Eight of Diamonds (Handmaid) and the Eight of Spades (Jealousy)
The Eight of Hearts, Hope, is connected with the realization of one’s expectations and dreams. At its best, this card shows things going as hoped, at its worst, when it ends a negative sequence, the Eight of Hearts promises us that all will be well anyway and things will evolve in a positive direction.
The two “loops” that make up the number eight are, in this case, in perfect balance: inner and outer are as one. As such, aside from showing the realization of hopes, this is the card that represents clairvoyant abilities, dreams and faith as a whole, as these are manifestations of the concrete reality of our inner world.
The Eight of Spades, Consumed with Jealousy, is by far the most interesting card in the deck. In the Italian title, the word “Disperato” actually means “desperate”, not consumed. Desperation is the opposite of Hope. And, indeed, the two images convey opposite ideas.
Let’s look at the two cards. On one hand, a young woman is gazing confidently in the distance. She is poised and dignified, and there is a sense of peace, of perspective, of having a future in front of us that is clear and peaceful. Her titties out to the wind don’t exactly scream insecurity, if I may add. The connection of this card with the element of water can also be interpreted as things flowing smoothly and calmly, which is itself an extension of the eight-ish idea of balance, understood as our inner wishes flowing out and permeating reality.
On the other hand we have one of the most disturbing images in the history of cartomancy: a guy who has lost all sense of perspective and all hope for the future, whose life has stopped flowing smoothly and who finds himself at a desperate turning point, and he’s about to possibly end his own life. Not someone you’d ask to look after the kids while you are out shopping.
This is the card of crisis, of the world closing in on you, of oppression and lack of positive ways out of this impasse (at least, unless other cards show otherwise). This card behaves as a landmine that our hopes and desires step onto while on the way toward realization. Here, the two loops of the number eight are imbalanced with one another. This imbalance can also be understood not just as unfulfilled hope or crisis, but also as negative hope, hence the card’s connection with envy, slander etc.
In between Spades and Hearts we have the Eight of Clubs, the Reunion and the Eight of Diamonds, the Handmaid, which represent evolution toward balance in two opposite senses. The Eight of Clubs is the card of the positive evolution toward a good conclusion, but it implies either a previous upset or a previous distance.
This is the card that can show winning a court case, which implies the upset of having gone through a trial, it’s the card of the date or meeting, which implies being apart (otherwise we wouldn’t be able to meet), it’s the card of reconciliation, which implies break-up, it’s the card of healing, which implies illness, it’s the card of getting back the money you’ve lent, which implies a previous parting with your money. In general, this card represents an evolution leading us back to a previous balance that has been interrupted, and a positive offsetting of the situation as a whole.
The Eight of Diamonds, The Handmaid, is also a card of evolution, but one that doesn’t necessarily lead us back: it’s an evolution that leads us forward toward a new equilibrium (or lack thereof). It is said that this card, when it falls in the spread without any specific reason, heralds new phases in life, and we must always look where the young woman is going.
The staircase she’s climbing is a symbol for improvement, expansion, growth. As such, this is one of the cards representing nobility, refinement, good manners and climbing up the social ladder. The evolution here is therefore not intended as a re-establishment of a former positive situation as the Reunion (Re-union) often implies, but rather as a building on what is already there to reach a new equilibrium. Note that the handmaid is also the card of offers and money, things and situations being given to us: the new equilibrium or balance may be coming toward us from the outside.
I was pleasantly surprised to discover the legendary Il Meneghello had come out with a new edition of their lovely Vera Sibilla deck. The Vera Sibilla is a traditional Italian divination deck. In its land of origin, the Sibilla is second in popularity only to Tarot cards, so much so that it is cheaply available at any of the numerous tobacco shops scattered in every town and city. It also seems to be slowly making its way to the rest of the world.
Sibilla cards are also affectionately called “chiacchierine”, which means something along the lines of “little chatty (cards)”. The word conjures up the image of a couple of saggy old grannies sitting outside late in the afternoon in a picturesque cobblestone alley, away from the noise of the main street, shelling beans while exchanging the latest news about the neighbor’s affair with the school teacher’s dog trainer, and what the florist’s daughter thinks about all this, being the prude that she is.
They are, in a word, nosy little f*ckers, these cards. Their astounding love for details is only equaled by their complete inability to keep their mouth shut. It is often wise to keep them on a short leash to avoid being overwhelmed. In my personal experience, a short-ish spread done with the Sibilla often gives the same amount of detail as a Kipperkarten or Lenormand Grand Tableau. This doesn’t mean that other decks are more limited. It is purely a question of “character”, and each deck has its own character. The Sibilla simply happens to be the hyperactive cousin with no grasp of boundaries, political correctness and social acceptability.
Il Meneghello is renowned for its hand-made limited editions of historical decks. Master Menegazzi, the heart and soul behind IM, has been producing and reproducing decks for years now, and has become some kind of a legend amongst collectors and card readers. The products they publish are always guaranteed to be of high quality. This reproduction of the 1850s Vera Sibilla is no exception.
What’s inside
As usual for Il Meneghello, the deck comes packaged in a lovely reinforced cardboard box (see picture). I keep my other Sibilla decks in their original box, as I’m a practical dude and I can’t be bothered with finding a more “appropriate” accommodation for what is, at the end of the day, just a deck of cards. In this case, however, I wouldn’t be able to think of a better solution even if I wanted to. Not only is the box beautifully decorated (with a reproduction of the iconic Love card glued on the front), but it is also made to last.
The Deck, The Extra Card and the Box
Inside the box you’ll find the deck itself, an extra card, a Little White Book and a note. The note simply warns you that, since the product is hand-made, some imperfections are to be expected. Cool. The Little White Book is, like all Little White Books, pretty useless. You won’t find the meanings of the cards in it, although a simple five card positional spread is suggested.
Frankly, the Sibilla works at its best when read in rows or other geometrically inspired shapes (e.g. box, square, pyramid, tableau etc.) which are made up of multiple rows. This allows the cards to come together and form combinations and clusters. Using positions, and even worse, using one card per position is extremely limiting. Other than that, the LWB keeps its promise of being “little”, and it only adds some historical remarks in Italian and English. The extra card, which you can see in the picture, is a reproduction of the Ten of Hearts with some information about the edition.
All that’s left to talk about are the cards themselves. If you don’t know how a Vera Sibilla deck is structured, it is basically like a playing card deck, with four suits (Hearts, Clubs, Diamonds and Spades), but each card is assigned an image. According to Sibilla expert Etienne Valancourt, the Vera Sibilla deck has been created by taking the Italian system of reading playing cards and adapting it to the images of the famous Gypsy Cards which were popular in Germany and Austria back then.
Indeed, many images and names are very similar. However, since the Gypsy cards are 36, while the Sibilla has 52 cards, some images had to be split among various cards (for instance, the card of the Visit, where you can see a handmaid visiting an old lady, became the two cards of the Old Lady and of the Handmaid), while other images were added to the mix to fit the Italian system. Let’s look at the cards in this particular edition.
Pros
The cards themselves are a treat for the eye and, if I may, for the hand as well. Il Meneghello has chosen to sell this new edition of their Sibilla deck with the corners already rounded off. I believe this is a winning move: the cards come across as much gentler and “approachable” to the eye. They are just pretty, I wanna merry them. According to Kapherus of Art of Cartomancy, who owns a copy of the previous IM Sibilla reproduction, the square corners of that edition tended to peel off a bit too easily. I have been mistreating (really!) this deck for a couple of weeks now and it seems to be in perfect shape. If in doubt, choose this newer edition.
The backs of the cards in this edition (left) compared to the standard Masenghini edition (right). As you can see, they are not exactly reversible, but they are more reversible than the Masenghini ones.
There’s something extremely authentic and genuine in the experience of holding this deck in my hands. Although the size is the same as the popular Masenghini edition (see image), the deck as a whole takes up more space, simply because it is made of relatively irregular pieces of actual cardboard rather than of 52 identical pieces of plastic. Whenever I shuffle the deck, I feel immediately transported to a tearoom of old, where a funny-looking lady shuffles her self-made deck for her numerous clients.
Speaking of hand-made stuff, this deck is completely matte. I don’t have the previous Il Meneghello edition of the 1890 Sibilla, but I have been told by a Facebook friend that that edition is at least lightly coated. Not so with this 1850 edition. This certainly contributes to the feeling of authenticity of the deck.
Another important pro, in my opinion, is that this deck, like the previous edition (and like the original edition), has no annoying keywords on it as the Masenghini edition does. Bear in mind that the Masenghini edition came out only in the late 1970s and it was probably some rich old manager who’d never used the cards for divination and simply wanted to make them more appealing to bored teenagers that slapped the keywords on the cards.
Granted, I have learnt to disregard them, especially since they are very reductive, and many of them are extremely misleading, telling you the Jack of Clubs is an evil dude, even though he is actually traditionally the prototype of the good friend, son, student, coworker, and only becomes negative when reversed. Still, it feels liberating, and the font used for the title is also much prettier.
Some of the names of the cards, being the original ones, are slightly different from the Masenghini edition (e.g. Present of Precious Stones instead of Present of Jewels, Consumed with Jealousy instead of just Jealousy, etc.). Also, the Present and the Handmaid are swapped back to their original place. Finally, you can see that the colors in this edition are a bit more muted compared to the newer ones. I find them lovely, less fake. Note: this is not meant as a bashing of the Masenghini edition, which I adore and use. It’s just a comparison.
A comparison of the images on the cards of this 1850 edition (top) with those on the Masenghini edition (bottom). Notice how some names have been changed and the Eight and Three of Diamonds have been swapped back to their original placement.
Cons
Is this a wonderful deck to have if you are a Sibilla Reader? Absolutely! I don’t know how you could miss out on it. Is this a great deck to have if you like traditional oracle decks in general? Yep, go ahead, buy it! Is this a good addition to your collection if you are a collector? Hurry up, it’s limited! Should this be the only Sibilla deck you own? Probably not.
Granted, it does seem sturdy enough to last me a lifetime. This doesn’t change the fact that it’s not meant to be as resistant as a mass-produced, heavily coated plastic deck, especially considering it’s a limited edition and it’s not necessarily cheap. If I ever chose to go pro, this wouldn’t be the deck I use with my clients, although I could probably keep it for my personal readings.
Since these are actual pieces of uncoated cardboard, you need to be careful around liquids, as I guess they will stain quite easily. Also, you need to get used to shuffling this deck, which wasn’t easy for me at the beginning. It’s not impossible, and with a little practice it is actually extremely pleasant, but don’t expect it to be the same as with the newer, plastic-y editions.
Final Thought: absolutely recommended!
Pros: + The Vera Sibilla Oracle at its best. If I had to choose my favorite edition, this would be it + Pleasantly matte pieces of cardboard in your hands + Rounded corners! + Seems very resistant + No keywords on the cards + It’s like gazing into images from a dream
Cons: – You might need to be careful around liquids – Initially difficult to shuffle, but you just need to get used to it – It’s lovingly hand-made in a limited edition, so I don’t know if it would be suitable as a “power horse deck”. Perhaps if you are careful
Price: When I bought it, it cost 40€ plus shipping.
How to order it: It is not currently available on the website. However, you can order it by emailing Il Meneghello. Their customer service is quick and efficient.
The threes in the Vera Sibilla are all connected with the concept of movement. Card Reader and Youtuber Etienne Valancourt, who inspired me to study numerological hints in the Vera Sibilla, noted in one of his videos that threes seem to refer to spacial or metaphorcial movement. If the Ace was the single dot and the Two was the extension of the dot into a line, the Three brings in the idea of moving up and down, left and right, since movement implies at least two directions (where you start from and where you finish) that are connected by the movement itself.
The Threes in the Vera Sibilla Oracle: The Three of Hearts (Balcony), The Three of Clubs (Journey), The Three of Diamonds (Gift of Precious Stones), The Three of Spades (Widower)
The Three of Hearts, The Balcony, and the Three of Spades, The Widower, show, as usual, two opposite interpretations of the concept. The Three of Hearts, as the illustration points at, is a card of arrival. The lady is waiting for something or someone that are on their way to her (or, at least, that are supposed to). It’s a positive card, although, like all red cards, relatively easily influenced by the black cards around it.
The Balcony is also connected with sight, the eyes and looking (either literally or figuratively), which are a natural extension of its primary meaning: when something is coming our way, it becomes easier to spot than if it is parting from us. In general, the arrival, i.e. the notion of “getting closer”, may be interpreted as a general remark that new developments are on the way, that the issue under consideration has not reached its conclusion yet, and that the matter is not yet settled. For all its connection to the concept of “getting closer”, this card is also associated with great distances, especially when with cards that reinforce this meaning.
The Three of Hearts is a generally favorable card. The Three of Spades, on the other hand, is extremely negative. In the Widower we find the idea of separation, of getting away. When it’s not a character card depicting an older man, the Widower is always connected with feeling unwell, not necessarily in a health-related sense. He’s not the type of guy you’d want over for a cup of tea, he’s really gonna bring the mood down.
The main ideas connected with it are those of abandonment, loss (things getting away from us), bereavement, deprivation, and something being generally taken from us. If the Balcony points to new things and people coming our way, the Widower is a card of loneliness and isolation, of no news and no people arriving (it can function as a kind of “minus” sign, showing us what we don’t have). This card is pervaded by a general sense of finality, of matters being ready for burial. How fun, right?
In between, we have the Three of Clubs, The Journey, and the Three of Diamonds, The Gift of Precious Stones. The Journey card speaks for itself: it represents journey and movement in general. It can, however, also show change in general. This card is connected with things not remaining the same, of things going through some kind of change. This can be positive or negative, external or internal (e.g. changing point of view). It’s not a difficult card, aside from the fact that it’s one of those in the Vera Sibilla where directional cues need to be taken into account.
The Three of Diamonds is, in most editions of the Sibilla, assigned to the Gift card, but some newer and easily accessible editions have popularized its connection with the card of the Handmaid, The Eight of Diamonds. While I chose to stick with the traditional numerology, I am going to discuss this issue in a separate blog article to show how both attributions make sense. After all, the Gift and the Handmaid have some astounding similarities in their meanings.
In general, The Gift is a card of gifts (duh!) and proposals, of situations moving in our direction to allow us to jump on board. It represents the movement of objects, i.e. packages being sent or received, and, as an extended meaning, this is the card of objects in general, i.e. moveable goods. Another important connection of this card is with opulence and wealth, and therefore with upward mobility and a higher social status. The Handmaid card can also be appropriate as Three, considering that it, too, represents evolution, things that are given to us and a higher position in society. It also has other traits, however, that make her a good Eight as well.
The sevens in the Vera Sibilla are mainly connected with the ideas of intentions, mindset, projects and planning. They speak, in other words, of our ability to conjure up visions of reality and of ourselves that may then be planted into the outside world and grown. While the sixes spoke of the passage of time and the flow of events, the sevens represent our ability to see an alternative that may be tapped into to alter that flow. Differently put, they show us how the Self reacts to that flow.
The Sevens in the Vera Sibilla Oracle – The Seven of Hearts (Scholar or Artist), The Seven of Clubs (Gratification), The Seven of Diamonds (Child) and The Seven of Spades (Disaster)
As it should by now be clear, Hearts and Spades are direct opposites of one another. The Seven of Hearts, the Scholar or Artist, represents the power of reason. Notice the difference between the Seven of Hearts and the Six of Diamonds, the Thought card. The latter is about our inner reality, which may or may not be reasonable. A passing look at the amount of psychic crap that comes pouring out whenever we hit a shrink’s couch shows us that the Thought card, i.e. what goes on on the inside, may bear little to no resemblance to reality in its absolute, objective sense.
The Six of Diamonds may show projects, but only in so far as they are inside and not yet outside. The Seven of Hearts, on the other hand, represents the ability to plan. It represents rationality, brain power, the ability to measure and count (when reversed, the idea of measuring and counting becomes the negative notion of ulterior motives, of doing something because you are calculating individual).
It is also the card connected with the skill of coherently putting together a vision of reality that may be used to then mold reality itself. Hence its connection with creativity and art, which are not the opposite of reason, but its extension into the world. As unfashionable as thinking straight is among us new-agey folks, this card is very important. The most important practical meaning of the Scholar, i.e. contracts, comes from the fact that the juridical side of life is founded on the concept of “meeting of minds”, which is what generates contracts: it’s when my mind meets yours midways to create a stable, reasonable intersubjective agreement.
Let’s turn to the Seven of Spades, Disaster, which is notoriously similar to the Tower card in the tarot. This card is, in more than one sense, the direct opposite of the Scholar. In its most general sense, this is the card of immeasurability. It shows all those things that, no matter how “scholarly” we might be, hit us from the outside, without forewarning and without any discernible cause that we might prepare for in advance. It shows shit happening because shit just happens, and that’s kind of it.
As an extended, neutral meaning, this card also represents things happening all of a sudden, and usually very quickly, though not necessarily in a bad sense. A third important meaning of this card is that of negative projects. While the Scholar is the good architect of reality, the Disaster card can show ill-will, the desire to hurt or harm another. It is connected with anger and choler, all forces that blur the line between what’s reasonable and what isn’t.
In between we have the Seven of Clubs, Gratification, and the Seven of Diamonds, the Child. These, too, are starkly different cards in many ways, although with a common tread. The Seven of Diamonds is the card of all things new and novel. It represents new projects, new plans, new things in general coming into our lives. More subtly, this is also the card of new visions, of opening up to new points of view, new stimuli, new perspectives and new ways of understanding ourselves and others.
Its archetype extends to cover ideas such as purity of soul, candor, innocence, but also naivety. The Suit of Diamonds is the suit of seeds, of all those little impulses, positive or negative, that are planted into our lives. Among the other Diamonds cards, the Child is the one that most of all represents a seed: small, ready to grow and full of promise and potential.
The Seven of Clubs, Gratification, is anything except small. It is deeply connected with our sense of self, with what makes us secure in our identity and what supports our narrative of who we are and of how who we are finds its deepest fulfillment in real life. If the Child is the seed, Gratification is the tree ripe with succulent, plump fruits.
This is not a “theoretical” card, but a very material one. In the most general sense, it is connected with our sense of stability in the world: it may have to do with fame, recognition, our good or bad name (depending on the cards around and on whether this one is upright or reversed). Furthermore, the Seven of Clubs has strong ties with the concept of concreteness and concretization: it shows the next logical step in making a situation more stable, concrete and fulfilling, whether it’s marriage (the ring in the picture) a promotion at work (the bag of money) or a positive reception by our fellow humans (the wreath).
As Alessandra Venturi says in her book, this card can be the light at the end of the tunnel, in that after a slew of negative cards it can allow us to regain a sense of balance and a more positive outlook. Whatever the field, this card doesn’t speak of emotions, but it does speak of personal fulfillment in the situation.
The fours of the vera sibilla. Like and subscribe to support my work
The four Fours in the Vera Sibilla appear to be connected with the notions of environment, context or situation. The famous squareness that almost every system of cartomancy ascribes to the number four is still present, but rather than talking about stability or lack of change, it is focused on describing of the type of 3D world that exists around the querent, depending on the suit. The Ace was like a spark, the Two extended it into a line, the Three provided movement, now we have a full-blown situation.
The four Fours in the Vera Sibilla: The Four of Hearts (Love), The Four of Clubs (Friend), The Four of Diamonds (Falsehood) and the Four of Spades (Sickness)
The Four of Hearts, Love, is perhaps the most famous card in the deck. Every traditional source describes it as a card that represents a live, blind force shaping the situation. This idea movement, aliveness and blindness are a consequence of the irrational nature of love, which is impossible to put in chains or define in a limiting way. I like what I like, I am attracted to what I am attracted to. Period.
Hence, the idea here is one of a context that the querent likes: it may be a house, a partner, a job, whatever. With this card, we are in a context we like. The Love card represents a situation that is alive, that has enough of that vital impetus to keep it going, and the vital impetus is, of course, attraction. The whole of the universe is love, and all that good shit.
Conversely, the Four of Spades, the Sickness card, shows a situation or context that is not hot, but cold, not lively and moving, but rotting, ill and decaying, not free, but stuck, not beneficial but noxious. This card represents sickness and illness in the most general sense, whether it’s an ill body, an ill career, a sick way of living a relationship, etc. Whereas the Four of Hearts is the card of a situation that we love, that we are compatible with, the Four of Spades is a card of wrong paths, situations that developed in the wrong way or that have grown stagnant.
In between, the Four of Clubs, the Friend, is a card of positive, helpful contexts. It may represent partnerships and co-operation, pacts etc., but in general it represents a supportive context or people who support the querent. Some of the undertones of this card are similar to those of the Nine of Hearts, Faithfulness, in that in both cases we have someone (or a general situation) that is loyal, caring and helpful, and will do what’s best for the querent.
Jobs and career in the field of service are often represented by the Friend, as well as all supportive roles (e.g. nurses). All this being said, this card sometimes represents a person, in which case it’s going to be neutral.
The Four of Diamonds, Falsehood or the Cat, is one of the most iconic in the deck. In the most general sense, it is the opposite of the Nine of Hearts and, in a way, of the Four of Clubs. While the Friend represents a positive, supportive context, the Four of Diamonds represents negative contexts in general. Under this card fall all those situations and contexts that are wrong, false or bad for the querent.
While the Dog card shows things being as they seem and seeming as they are, Falsehood is about reality being hidden behind a layer of something else which may be anything, but is not real. In this sense, it also covers illusion and self-deception, in addition to cheating and lies. Interestingly, this is also the card of bad weather, likely because bad weather is a passing illusion covering the eternal blue of the sky.
A quick discussion of the fives of the vera sibilla. Like and subscribe to support my work
When we hit number Five we discover that here we have one of the most positive cards in the deck, Fortune, and one of the worst, Death. The keyword here is transition, or change, i.e. the end of something and the beginning of something else.
The Fives in the Vera Sibilla: The Five of Hearts (Happiness in the Heart), The Five of Clubs (Fortune), The Five of Diamonds (Melancholy) and the Five of Spades (Death)
The Five of Hearts, Happiness in the Heart, is the card of engagement, which is the transition between being single and being married. In the context of career, this usually means a temporary job or a trial period. More in general, however, this is the card of the “step toward stability”. It shows events put in motion toward a quick and promising resolution. Once this card is activated, unless other negative cards follow, it leads you rather effortlessly to your mark. It is also the card of relatives, which form a sphere of transition between your close family members, i.e. your most private sphere, and an outside world full of unknown people.
At the opposite end of the spectrum, the Five of Spades, Death, obviously shows a different kind of transition. While the Five of Hearts evokes the jollity and mirth of a family gathering, the Death card marches to a much gloomier rhythm. The former shows the quick, flowing motion of the dance of life, the latter shows the same motion coming to an end as its vital force dries up. This is the card of endings. Yes, when something ends, something else begins, but this isn’t saying much: when I die, I stop existing as a live person and begin to exist as a corpse, but that’s hardly reassuring!
In most scenarios, we want this card out of our spreads, unless it’s about inheritance, retiring (i.e. “killing” your career) or conjuring low spiritual energies. However, this card also has an important function when it divides the spread into two halves. In that case, it means that there is going to be a definite and irrevocable transition from one phase of life to the next. Whether this transition is going to be good or bad will be shown by the cards following it.
Between the two polar opposites we have the Five of Clubs, Fortune, and the Five of Diamonds, Melancholy. Fortune is one of the best cards in the deck, though not as good as the Two of Clubs. It marries the keyword associated to the number 5 to the lucky connotations of the suit of Clubs. Hence the classical meaning associated to this card of undeserved success.
Undeserved doesn’t mean that you are nasty and your success is proof that there is no just God holding the world together. It means that, whatever your personal merit might be, the Universe has decided to supplement it with a stroke of luck. You may need to hold your hand out, but it’s not your merit that pennies are raining down from heaven today.
Finally, we need to deal with the most mixed of the Suits in the Vera Sibilla, that of Diamonds. The compromise, here, seems to be that of passing (transitory) disappointment. While it is definitely not a good card, by itself the Five of Diamonds is not catastrophic, and it shows a sense of sadness or dissatisfaction that will eventually end.
By analogy, it represents all those situations that have left us wounded: we have survived them, the wound will heal, but for now it’s there and it itches. While the Five of Hearts is the “step toward stability”, if followed by mixed to negative cards, Melancholy can be the “step toward instability”.
In the Vera Sibilla, the common thread that connect the nines is, perhaps, a little more obvious than the one shown in other numbers. Each of them represents how the energy of the suit interacts with the concepts of bond, ties and linkage. As usual, the Nine of Hearts and the Nine of Spades represent the polar opposites between which the other two cards, the Nines of Clubs and Diamonds, fluctuate.
The Nines in the Vera Sibilla: The Nine of Hearts (Faithfulness or the Dog), The Nine of Clubs (Cheerfulness), The Nine of Diamonds (The Fools) and the Nine of Spades (Prison)
The Faithfulness card or Dog is, at first, very similar to the Four of Hearts, Love. There is, however, an added dimension. Whereas Love is shown as an ungraspable, blind force, Faithfulness places restrictions on people’s behavior. If you are loyal to a person, even to an ideal, you will not betray it. Just as a loyal dog will follow you around even without a leash, simply out of a sense of affection and belonging to your “pack”, so the type of love depicted in the Nine of Hearts is a more disciplined version of the impetuous passion represented by the blindfolded cupid in the other card.
The symbolism of the loyal dog lends itself to the representation of various situations and states of being, including love, deep friendship or a sense of camaraderie, patriotism (when reversed, this card may show an anarchist), commitment to an ideal or group. In general, this card symbolizes the immediate coincidence between appearance and reality: what is shown is what is real. This is the opposite of the Four of Diamonds, Falsehood, represented by the Cat, which represents the divergence between appearance and reality. Be it as it may, Faithfulness interprets the idea of bond in a more positive way.
Its counterpart, the Prison, shows a very different kind of tie. Gone is the idea that we are where we are because an inner sense of belonging guides us: a physical chain now binds us to a certain place or situation. The Nine of Spades represents all those contexts that we are forced into against our will, or that we are prevented from leaving regardless of what we might think about them.
Depending on the context, more benign interpretations may emerge, but, in general, the Prison shows a state of affairs that we are unable to move away from even if we really want to. One of the classical meanings of this card, pregnancy, is derived from the fact that the chain tying the prisoner to the wall is reminiscent of an umbilical cord keeping the fetus securely tied to the mother’s womb. Needless to say, the baby doesn’t remain there because it roots for mommy (Faithfulness) but because it kind of has to (Prison).
The other two Nines take an interesting angle. They interpret the notion of bond socially. The Nine of Clubs, Cheerfulness, depicts a group of friends raising their glasses. Whatever happened, it is cause enough for everyone to get a little tipsy, which means that they all share at least some objectives. That being said, the bond that ties the three guys together is much lighter than the one of utter devotion displayed by the dog in the Nine of Hearts. This is a way more frivolous card, one that shows groups of people in a positive way, but not necessarily life-long companions.
The Nine of Diamonds, the Fools, similarly depicts three people, who have similarly been at the sherry. The suit of Diamonds, however, is less fortunate than that of Clubs, and in this case the darker side of mob mentality is depicted. Running with the wrong crowd is certainly one interpretation. Additionally, the Fools show unbalanced group behavior, or interpersonal problems.
By analogy, this is the card of unwarranted exaltation, foolishness, fights, arguments and of everything that is irregular, i.e. that defies the rules of what is “normal”, always in a negative sense. This goes from incoherent clauses in contracts to meaningless words to mental illness to natural disasters and cataclysms (which, in a sense, defy the laws of nature or disrupt the usual flow of life).
As a concluding remark, curiously, the Nine of Diamonds has a connection with excess and substance abuse (especially alcohol or meds), which is a very important meaning of the Nine of Clubs when it comes up reversed in a reading. When the situation is bad enough, i.e. when the bond with the substance seems unbreakable, the Nine of Spades will show up to add a sense of inability, on the part of the querent, to get out of the addiction.
The Tens in the Vera Sibilla have a lot to do with the concept of materiality, matter and physicality. Each of them shows how the suit relates to the notion of an external reality that needs to somehow be conquered, or that the Self and the Will needs to enter into contact with. As the final number in the sequence, it shows how the suit materializes.
The Tens in the Vera Sibilla deck: The Ten of Hearts (Perseverance), The Ten of Clubs (Levity), The Ten of Diamonds (The Thief) and the Ten of Spades (The Soldier)
The Ten of Hearts, Perseverance, is known for its general meaning of success after toil and, well, perseverance. This is a result of the combination of the positive meaning of the suit of Hearts with the rather challenging notion of materiality.
It represents the hard, unyielding surface of external things bending to our patient effort, being incorporated into our picture of how things should be and therefore being beaten into shape. Note how the image on the card shows the young lady confidently resting on a column at the break of dawn, having withstood the long night. She may be living in a material world, but, just like Judge Judy, they definitely don’t keep her there because she’s gorgeous. She means business!
At the same time, the other important meaning of the card, i.e. a long duration, is derived from the fact that once matter has been beaten into a particular shape, it has a tendency to retain it until a strong counter-impulse is given.
Finally, the third important meaning of the Ten of Hearts, i.e. the querent’s city (but, in general, it can also represent the homeland) is derived from the fact that the realm of Hearts is concerned with what is closest to us, and which therefore we are intimately connected with. The physical, material space we are connected with is our city or homeland, because it is immediately around us. Incidentally, Perseverance is also connected with the patrimony, the drowry and accumulated wealth, again, showing the positive side of materiality.
At the opposite end of the spectrum, the Ten of Spades, the Soldier, shows materiality overwhelming the Self and the Will, engulfing it into its morass of inert darkness. That is why, at its best, the Ten of Spades represents the physical body’s ability to fight or to react, but no victory is automatically shown. Alternatively, this is another card that can show violence, arguments etc., i.e. negative physical contact.
It is also why this card represents impervious places, like mountains and deserts and, in a metaphorical sense, all uphill battles. It’s the card of darkness and the night (and, as an extension, of secrets), which is an obvious contrast with the sense of liberation coming to us as we see the Sun peeking from under the horizon in the Ten of Hearts.
Finally, it’s why this is one of the cards connected with strangers and strange cities and countries -though, usually, not by itself. If, in the Ten of Hearts, we were dealing with familiar physical spaces we are intimately connected with, with the Soldier we are faced with people, situations and places that remain outside of our sphere of familiarity, and that therefore remain outside of our control and sense of security.
With the Ten of Clubs, Levity, and the Ten of Diamonds, The Thief, we are shown gradations on the spectrum. The Butterfly is a simbol of everything that is light, impalpable and indefinite, as shown by its association with the element of Air. It represents a strong departure from the commited consistency of the Ten of Hearts. In the Ten of Clubs we have the self gliding from flower to flower, aimlessly wandering and always avoiding leaving a permanent mark in any direction.
The compromise is that we don’t get much in terms of results, but we are not crushed by the weight of matter either. All the main meanings of the Levity card are derived from this, including the idea of lack of focus, of carelessness and of “just a little”. Note that, in readings where physical death is shown, the Ten of Clubs might appear to show the soul leaving the body and flying away, i.e. relinquishing its ties to the material world.
With the Thief card things start to get ugly. Here we have the Self and the Will very much focused on doing something with the physical world. Unfortunately, it’s not anything that will win them a Nobel prize for peace. The Suit of Diamonds has a lot to do with material values, so the idea, here, is that the Self is hell-bent on appropriating physical things, and it has no moral compass to tell him where a line should be drawn.
Note that, for their connection with the concept of matter and physical space, the four Tens are also representative of the four directions: the Ten of Hearts is assigned to the South, the Ten of Clubs to the North, the Ten of Diamonds to the West and the Ten of Spades to the East.
