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.
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 + 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.
The bed symbolism is almost as widespread in cartomancy as that of the table, of which it is a natural counterpart. The table often stands for conviviality, nourishment, feasting and interpersonal contact, and it often represents situations happening during the day. The bed, by contrast, is a nocturnal symbol of retreat and rest, and can stand for sickness, but also for physical intimacy, depending on the other cards. As usual, it is admirable how the card readers of yore used to weave simple and effective symbols of daily life in their reading systems, which allowed them to talk about reality.
The oldest mention I could find of a card representing the bed is in a little-known system for reading Italian regional playing cards with a reduced pack of 25 (instead of the full deck of 40). In this method, the Four of Coins is the bed card. It tends to represent situations becoming static or sick, or it can talk about passion, depending on the other cards. It can also indicate that something happens in the evening or at night. Interestingly, in another system I’m aware of, this time utilizing the full pack, the Four of Coins is the table, while the Five of Wands is the bed.
In the Bolognese Tarot, which is the oldest used divination deck we have written records of, the Chariot is the bed card. This has got to be one of the most puzzling bits of symbolism of the deck: a card that is usually indicative of forward movement, travel, progress, launching forward is seen as a card of static sickness, likely due to how the chariot is represented, with the horses crouching at the sides, as if the forward movement had stopped.
Truth be told, in the oldest extant document on divination with the Bolognese tarot, which dates back to the Pre-Napoleonic period, the Chariot is still considered a card of journey, but shorter than the World card, which is assigned the meaning ‘long journey’. This may indicate that the meaning of the card evolved through time, from ‘little journey’ to ‘little movement’ to ‘not much movement’ to ‘staticity’. Another likely possibility is that different meanings were used by different strands of the tradition, one of which hadn’t yet been put down in writing. This latter possibility is confirmed by the fact that there are readers who who assign both meanings to the Chariot, depending on the cards that surround it (static cards activate the static meaning, active cards the moving, active meaning).
The bed card is also present in some of the oracle decks that originated in the XVIII century as parlor games. In the Sibilla we have two bed cards: one is the Four of Spades, the Sickness card, which interprets the symbolism of the bed in its more static and negative sense of needing to interrupt one’s routine and of situations that are not healthy. The other bed card is the Ace of Diamonds, the Room, which can indicate any room in a building, but which in itself stands for the bedroom. As an extended meaning, it is the card of intimacy, so the presence of cards indicating love or physical contact can lead to rather hot interpretations.
The Kipper deck does not have two bed cards, but it does contemplate the symbol of the bed in the card “a short sickness”, which depicts a patient in bed being visited by a doctor. This is mostly a card of sickness, but many German-language sources I’ve read consider it also an ingredient in combinations about intercourse, partly due to the presence of the bed and partly due to the doctor touching the sick man’s wrist, which is supposed to be indicative of physical contact, if supported by other cards.
Working on my review of Andrea Vitali and Terry Zanetti’s book on the Bolognese tarot I came across some interesting information that matches what some Bolognese tarot readers have confirmed.
If you read my section on the card meanings of the Bolognese tarot, you will see that I call the King of Swords “Spadino”, which literally means “little sword” or, more appropriately in this context, “little sword bearer” (the ‘bearer’ part is implied). This is because the people I have chiefly learnt from all agreed on this one name, independently from one another.
When we read Zanetti’s section on the divinatory meanings of the cards, though, we find that she calls the Page of Swords ‘Spadino’, identifying the figure with a young man. This is in contrast with the tradition I’ve received, whereby the Page of Swords is just a letter or message. Zanetti does say that the card can also sometimes signify a disquieting letter, but she chiefly identifies the Page with a young man.
The Page of Swords and the King of Swords in the Bolognese tarot / Tarocchino bolognese
I must say I find this option strangely titillating, as the Page of Swords, Spadino, would then be a male counterpart to the Page of Cups, Coppina, ‘little cup bearer’. The ending -ino, which in Italian points to something small or young, definitely fits the Page more than the King. Zanetti denies that this parallel between Coppina and Spadino exists, because the Coppina is supposed to be always negative (she’s traditionally the little floozy who snatches hubby away). But I have not found this to be the case: the Page of Cups is just a young (or younger) woman.
Ultimately, as my understanding and practice with the Bolognese tarot evolves, I know I will have to create my own deck (all traditional readers seem to have done so, preserving a part of tradition and integrating it with their own discernment and experience). Tradition is, after all, not something fixed, but something that is handed over to us (from the Latin tradere) and that we must administer intelligently.
Another interesting fact is that Zanetti emphasizes the intellectual aspect of Spadino, calling the card “young man and his thoughts”. This is in contrast with what I’ve learned from Germana Tartari, my teacher for the 50-card method, whose grandma taught her that the Knight of Swords can sometimes represent the King of Swords’ thoughts, in a kind of parallel to the Knight of Wands being the thoughts of the King of Wands.
The fact that so many traditions seem to exist should not discourage us from engaging with them. Keep in mind that the Bolognese tarot tradition evolved locally, with each city, village or even street having slightly different versions of it. Thus, this is less a matter of who is right or wrong and more one of systemic preference and whether integrating different system together leads to new systems that work, or whether it is best to keep them separate. This is something that can be established only through trial and error.
This is a recurrent question I get. Some people are of the opinion that reading decks have something akin to a shelf life, after which they stop answering or they become impregnated with negative energy from all the readings. I often get asked if this is the case.
To which my answer is: under normal circumstances, your deck will keep answering you (or at least it will keep working, even if it occasionally snubs your questions) for as long as you use it. This has been my experience, as well as that of all my teachers, and I’ve had the good luck having many teachers.
My first teacher, from whom I learned to read playing cards and the Sibilla, followed the Italian tradition that divination decks need to be old, must have been used to play at the local inn and the people playing with them must have covered them in offensive swearwords (read here my hypothesis on why this tradition exists).
This obviously doesn’t apply to the Sibilla, since Sibilla decks, as well as similar decks like Lenormand or Kipper cards, are pretty much the only card decks specifically designed for divination. But tarot was a playing card game, and playing cards… well, it’s in the name, and so, according to my teacher, they needed to be “giocati e bestiemmati” (played with and offended with swearwords). And after you got a hold of one such deck, you probably were going to use it for as long as you lived.
When I started learning the tarot, my other teacher held on to her first deck as if it was a relic, and it did answer her beautifully. She was of the opinion, however, that the deck could stop answering correctly or become more negative in its answers if you read for many people with a tragic life. When this happened, she usually took the deck to church and had it blessed by the priest. I honestly cannot say I ever needed this, but there you have it.
As for the Bolognese tarot, I do not know what deck the person who taught me the 45-card system used, but I do know that my teacher for the 50-card system still uses her grandmother’s deck. Another person I am in contact with, who uses 49 cards, still uses the deck her teacher gifted her.
As for me, I have a conservative outlook on life, and I don’t throw away something unless I really, really have to. The Sibilla deck I use is the one I bought when I started learning, and while I don’t insist on always using the same playing card deck, I still occasionally whip out my old one.
Still, there are people who believe decks can stop working after a while, including people I admire (see Josephine MacCarthy). Is there anything to it? Obviously, much depends on the theoretical framework one uses for their magical activities (which includes divination).
I was taught that divination (any divination) can stop working if you are the recipient of a curse, but that’s an extreme scenario. More often, the people who complain about their deck going lazy on them tend to torture them with repeated questions on the same topic over and over.
As much as skeptics may point out that this is proof that divination doesn’t work because it cannot be repeated ad libitum in lab conditions, it is simply how it is: if you annoy the deck it will stop answering. This simple fact shows, at least in my opinion, that there is something alive attached to the deck.
Usually, in traditional divination folklore, we would say that the deck has a little spirit hidden inside. And while this may sound like a childish explanation, it is the one that best explains my experience, as well as being perfectly in line with traditional hermetic principles. The point is that while many valiant attempts have been made at explaining divination using more or less recognized principles (see Jung’s views), we are at work with something we don’t fully understand. Some level of respect is due to this something, if for nothing else than to keep the work environment positive with whatever it is.
(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 Cups from the Builders of the Adytum (BOTA) tarot deck
Paul Foster Case (and Ann Davies)
The time period is the third decanate of Pisces, from March 11 to March 20, under the sub-rulership of Mars in its Scorpio aspect. The meanings are unfortunate unless the divination refers to spiritual matters; for the combined forces of Mars, Jupiter and Neptune in Pisces on the physical levels, while they mean tremendous power of desire and sometimes the satisfaction of desire, point rather to unbalanced force than otherwise, Well-Dignified: if relating to spiritual matters, permanent and lasting success through inspiration from higher levels of consciousness; high psychic development; realization of the highest aspirations; happiness. On questions at a lower level, even if well dignified: great ambition; ultra sensitiveness; great power of realizing desires, but equally great danger of misusing that power. lll-Dignified: in spiritual questions, danger from psychism; probability of being injured mentally through unwise attempts at meditation. On all other questions: danger of self-undoing from psychism; prodigality; possibility of being influenced by others through the desire-nature; tendency to drug habits and drunkenness; disgust resulting from overindulgence; excess in pleasure. Keyword: Excess .
(From The Oracle of Tarot course)
A. E. Waite
Appearance of Cups in a rainbow; it is contemplated in wonder and ecstacy by a man and woman below, evidently husband and wife. His right arm is about her; his left is raised upward; she raises her right arm. The two children dancing near them have not observed the prodigy but are happy after their own manner. There is a home-scene beyond. Divinatory Meanings: Contentment, repose of the entire heart; the perfection of that state; also perfection of human love and friendship; if with several picture-cards, a person who is taking charge of the Querent’s interests; also the town, village or country inhabited by the Querent. Reversed: Repose of the false heart, indignation, violence. (From The Pictorial Key to the Tarot)
The Ten of Cups from the Rider Waite Smith tarot
Aleister Crowley
The Ten of Cups is called Satiety. Its attribution is Mars in Pisces. The watery sign has sunk into a stagnant dream, but in it broods and breeds the violent quality of Mars, to putrefy it. As it is written: “Until a dart strike through his liver.” The pursuit of pleasure has been crowned with perfect success; and constantly it is discovered that, having got everything that one wanted, one did not want it after all; now one must pay.
[…]
This card represents a conflicting element. On the one hand, it receives the influence of the Ten, Malkah the Virgin. The arrangement of the cups is that of the Tree of Life. But, on the other hand, they are themselves unstable. They are tilted; they spill the water from the great Lotus which overhangs the whole system from one into the other.
The work proper to water is complete: and disturbance is due. This comes from the influence of Mars in Pisces. Mars is the gross, violent and disruptive force which inevitably attacks every supposed perfection. His energy displays the greatest possible contrast with that of Pisces, which is both peaceful and spiritualized. (From The Book of Thoth)
The Ten of Cups from the Thoth tarot deck
Golden Dawn’s Book T
HAND, as usual, holding bunch of water-lilies or lotuses, whose flowers pour a white water into all the cups, which “all run over.” The uppermost cup is held sideways by a hand, and pours water into the left-hand upper cup. A single lotus flower surmounts the top cup, and is the source of the water that fills it. Above and below the symbols Mars and Pisces.
Permanent and lasting success and happiness, because inspired from above. Not so sensual as “Lord of Material Happiness,” yet almost more truly happy. Pleasure, dissipation, debauchery, quietness, peacemaking. Kindness, pity, generosity, wantonness, waste, etc., according to dignity.
Malkuth of HB:H (Matter settled: complete good fortune). Herein the Great Angels HB:a’aShLYH and HB:MYHAL rule.
Etteilla
The city Upright. In terms of spiritual medicine, this card, in its natural position, signifies: City, City Center, Homeland, Country, Town, Village, Place, Site, Dwelling, Home, Residence. – Citizen, Group of citizens, City dweller. Reversed. Anger, Indignation, Agitation, Irritation, Outburst of rage, Wrath, Violence.
(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 Wands from the Builders of the Adytum (BOTA) tarot deck
Paul Foster Case (and Ann Davies)
The third decanate of Sagittarius is the time period from December 12 to December 21. In divination its meanings are those of the Tenth Sephirah combined with the planetary forces of the Sun and Jupiter, the zodiacal sign of Sagittarius together with its natural Ninth house of the Higher Mind. Well-Dignified: generosity; success and honor in connection with the law, religion or philosophy; possibility of post of responsibility; gain through travel. Ill-Dignified: ostentation; dogmatism; overbearing pride. Note :- this card often carries the significance of a burden of responsibility of ‘too many irons in the fire’, or the need for a rearrangement of the Querent’s affairs or activities so as to get them in better order. Keyword: Fullness of power. (From The Oracle of Tarot course)
A. E. Waite
A man oppressed by the weight of the ten staves which he is carrying. Divinatory Meanings: A card of many significances, and some of the readings cannot be harmonized. I set aside that which connects it with honour and good faith. The chief meaning is oppression simply, but it is also fortune, gain, any kind of success, and then it is the oppression of these things. It is also a card of false-seeming, disguise, perfidy. The place which the figure is approaching may suffer from the rods that he carries. Success is stultified if the Nine of Swords follows, and if it is a question of a lawsuit, there will be certain loss. Reversed: Contrarieties, difficulties, intrigues, and their analogies. (From The Pictorial Key to the Tarot)
The Ten of Wands from the Rider Waite Smith tarot
Aleister Crowley
The Ten of Wands is called Oppression. This is what happens when one uses force, force, and nothing else but force all the time. Here looms the dull and heavy planet Saturn weighing down the fiery, ethereal side of Sagittarius; it brings out all the worst in Sagittarius. See the Archer, not shooting forth benign rays, but dealing the sharp rain of death! The Wand has conquered; it has done its work; it has done its work too well; it did not know when to stop; Government has become Tyranny. One thinks of the Hydra when one reflects that King Charles was beheaded in White hall!
[…]
The number Ten refers to Malkuth, which depends from the other nine Sephiroth, but is not directly in communication with them. It shows the Force detached from its spiritual sources. It is become a blind Force; so, the most violent form of that particular energy, without any modifying influences. The flames in the background of the card have run wild. It is Fire in its most destructive aspect.
The card also refers to the influence of Saturn in Sagittarius. Here is the greatest antipathy. Sagittarius is spiritual, swift, light, elusive, and luminous; Saturn is material, slow, heavy, obstinate, and obscure.
The eight Wands are still crossed, showing the enormous power of the completed energies of Fire; but they have lost their patents of nobility. Their ends seem more like claws; they lack the authority and intelligence shown in the earlier cards; and in front are the two formidable Dorjes of the Two of Wands, but lengthened to bars.
The whole picture suggests Oppression and repression. It is a stupid and obstinate cruelty from which there is no escape. It is a Will which has not understood anything beyond its dull purpose, its “lust of result”, and will devour itself in the conflagrations it has evoked. (From The Book of Thoth)
The Ten of Wands from the Thoth tarot deck
Golden Dawn’s Book T
FOUR hands holding eight wands crossed as before. A fifth hand holding two wands upright, which traverses the junction of the others. Flames issuant. Saturn and Sagittarius.
Cruel and overbearing force and energy, but applied only to material and selfish ends. Sometimes shows failure in a matter, and the opposition too strong to be controlled; arising from the person’s too great selfishness at the beginning. Illwill, levity, lying, malice, slander, envy, obstinacy; swiftness in evil and deceit, if ill dignified. Also generosity, disinterestedness and self-sacrifice, when well dignified. Malkuth of HB:V (Cruelty, malice, revenge, injustice). Therein rule HB:RYYAL and HB:AVMAL.
In every deck there are what we might call topic cards, that is, cards that represent a specific field of life: family, work, money, health, love, the law, etc.
All or most of these cards also have general meanings that apply to various contexts. For instance, the Ace of Cups in the Bolognese Tarot is the home card (just like the Ace of Hearts in playing cards or the Two of Hearts in the Vera Sibilla), so it is the topic card for everything relating to family and house questions. But it can also indicate that someone belongs to the family, e.g., when it comes up next to a court card. It can also indicate the inner side of one’s experience of life, one’s inmost, intimate world, etc. So it can also show that something is close to us and touches us.
We need to distinguish between a card acting as a stand-in for a specific topic and the same card acting out a particular meaning. To keep with the Ace of Cups example, when it comes up in a question about work, it might show that the querent’s work life interferes with their family life or vice versa, or that they work from home, or that their work environment is family-like. In all these cases, the house card qualifies the other cards by adding details of its own.
But when the House card is simply a stand-in for the topic ‘home and family life’, the card says nothing about the topic itself. It doesn’t qualify the reading. It simply tells us, “this is the topic.” It is then the role of the other cards to describe the situation, qualifying it in a positive or negative way.
When we are doing a general reading with no question, or with all the cards down on the table, this is all well and good: we see if the person’s significator is next to any of the topic cards, showing that that topic is important, and then we read the cards surrounding the topic card relating them to the topic.
When the question has been specified, though, extra care must be taken trying to figure out if the topic cards that appear are qualifying the topic of the question or if they are coming up to ignore the question and talk about something else. This is not always easy.
Let’s say you asked about work, but the house card comes up. Why? Is it because the home is involved? Or is it because the cards have decided to bypass your question and discuss something else? Or is it both? (It CAN be both). One way to solve this issue is to see if there are topic cards relating to the question, or if at least the cards seem to be predominantly of a nature that seems more akin to the question asked (e.g., lots of Diamonds and Clubs in a work-related question).
The other way is to see if the cards next to the rogue topic card coalesce with it to form a coherent statement that has nothing to do with work, or if instead the topic card allows itself to be absorbed into the querent’s question.
The third way is simply to work with the querent. This is always a good idea. After all, our aim is to interpret the oracle correctly, not to impress people.
Cards that have the potential to be topic cards are always quite strong in a reading, so it is always good to observe them first. Often they form focal points in the interpretation of the spread. Sometimes some cards in some readings can even be ignored, but topic cards always seem to have something to say. We ignore them at our peril.
When it comes to divination, theory can only get you so far. The best way to improve your reading skills is to learn the basics of a *valid* system and then start reading.
For most of us, we are our own first querents, and that is a problem. I don’t have a 100% accuracy record when reading for others, but I barely reach 60% when reading for myself, especially if I’m invested in the topic. It is not just a matter of wrong interpretation, which can and does happen. I am more and more convinced that sometimes, when we read for ourselves and we are not perfectly at peace, we tend to get readings that reflect what we think rather than what is happening or will happen.
Furthermore, the tendency that many people have to start obsessively putting questions to the cards just to see if they say something vaguely understandable (which doesn’t mean true) is dangerous, and can get us in a warped frame of mind.
I know that for many, especially coming from certain societal backgrounds, reading for others can be a big step into the unknown, but I would advise anyone to start reading for some sympathetic friends or relatives (and when I say for them I mean in front of them, not asking questions about them) and then to graduate as soon as possible to readings for people we don’t know or know little about.
I don’t have too many friends, but they do a good job of talking about me to their friends and to their friends’ friends, which is how I get my supply of test anim-ehm, querents. If you start reading for your friends and ask them to spread the word the same will happen to you.
The cool thing about reading for people we don’t know is that it is so much easier than you might think. Divination DOES work! And divining for someone when there is no chance of you knowing the information in advance is very impressive for them and very satisfying for us as diviners. It will build your confidence much more quickly than torturing the cards about your own mental dramas. Plus, the oracles always seem to be much clearer and much more crisp when I divine for strangers.
One thing I would advise is to be as scientific as possible: record the question, the reading, your interpretation and the results. Don’t think you cannot build your vocabulary because the only right answer is the one offered to you by your intuition. 99% of intuitive readers are terrible, and what they call intuition is not actual intuition: it’s their stupidity echoing in the empty chambers of their mind. Be systematic and slowly you will gain experience.
I always maintain that the Golden Dawn were not great astrologers, largely because the XIX century astrology they had access to was not very good. Still, for the purposes of deriving symbolism for magical operations, their take was acceptable.
One thing that has always fascinated me about the Golden Dawn’s take on astrology was how they tried to synthesize it into their tarot system. Aside from the attributions of Zodiac signs and planets to the Hebrew letters and of the Hebrew letters to the major trumps, they also assigned the thirty-six decans to the thirty-six minor cards two through ten and, in different ways, to the aces and court cards as well.
This way of allocating the symbolism was not unique to them, but (as someone who doesn’t like to mix cartomancy and astrology) I must say that it probably produced the most coherent system.
Crowley generally doesn’t stray too far from the GD interpretation of the minors, but there are a couple of exceptions, the most obvious of which is the Ten of Cups.
For the GD, the Ten of Cups is an excellent card (which is what inspired Waite’s take on it). Crowley, however, disagrees on account of the decan assigned to the card, which is the third decan of Pisces, ruled by Mars. This leads Crowley to argue that this is a card ruled by two disarmonious symbols (Pisces and Mars) and so it produces bad results.
The problem with Crowley’s take is that he constantly, throughout the book, mistakes decan rulership with the influence of a planet in a sign. This is wrong. Rulerships represent affinities of a planet with a sign or subdivision of the sign.
For instance, Aries is ruled by Mars, which means there is an affinity and so when Mars is in Aries it is said to be well-dignified, at least according to the astrological practice that developed in the middle ages. The Sun is also exalted in Aries, which means there is also an affinity. Then we have the three decans: the first ten degrees ruled my Mars, the second ten by the Sun and the last ten by Venus.
Now, Venus is in detriment in Aries, which means there is disharmony between Venus and Aries, so Venus is ill-dignified in it. She is like a dainty ballerina stranded in a war-torn country. It’s not her place. However, in the last ten degrees of Aries, Venus has subrulership by decanate. This means that, even though she is the anti-venusian environment of Aries, she has a small room where she is a bit more comfortable, though not by much: it’s as if our dainty ballerina had been hired to entertain the troops in the barracks. She’s still in the wrong place, but in a less uncomfortable subplace.
Therefore, when Crowley says that Mars is not compatible with Pisces he is saying something that is irrelevant: by definition, the fact that Mars rules the third decan of Pisces means that Mars is at least a bit comfortable in the last ten degrees of the sign. This is because the last decan of Pisces has some kind of Mars-like quality to it: it is the part of Pisces that expresses through Mars.
This is not to say that his system is more right or wrong than the GD (one can stretch symbolism in almost any direction by abusing it long enough), but his misunderstanding runs through the whole minor arcana section, and I thought it would be interesting to bring it up.
