I was accompanying hubby to the optometrist in another city, when we came across one of those easily overlooked book shops selling second-hand books. And right on display was this deck (I’ll do a flip-through video soon):
An old Lenormand deck
Also, get a load of this: the backs are completely plain, like in days of yore!
The cards’ back
The deck came with a book. The author gives off German Mary Greer vibes, in the sense that he published on a variety of topics while trying to appeal both to the casual as well as to the psychotically fixated at the same time.
However, being an old book (I believe it came out in 1992 or so) I was hoping for less psychology. He has the (suspicious to me) tendency to read way too much into the symbols, bringing in Freud, among others. He also tries to combine the meaning of the skat cards with that of the symbols, with mixed results. Sometimes it makes sense, sometimes it doesn’t.
But this is only from leafing through the book cursorily. Maybe I’m judging him too harshly. An interesting thing is that he uses the Grand Tableau / Große Tafel in the less known 6×6 variant.
However good or bad the book may be, I only bought it because it was attached to the deck, which is lovely, and the set cost only a little over 5€. The deck has an old-timey feel to it. Some of the symbols are a bit hard to see. For instance, the Clouds look more like a sea, and the Mice are actually a single mouse which almost disappears in comparison to the pudding and wine he is stealing: while looking at the card I was thinking “Wait, did the Lenormand deck have a Bistro card?” Oh well, at least the mouse doesn’t have to share the wine with the others.
Still a really cute deck and a good buy. I am not planning on studying the Lenormand deck soon (I have way too many irons in the fire) but I just couldn’t resist it.
This may sound like a silly question, but it is one I get asked constantly in private. I think the reason is that, especially at the beginning, we are very unsure of how to go about the reading and we are afraid we may get it wrong on technical grounds even before the interpretation starts.
Unfortunately, there is no clear answer to this. I know of old-time diviners who shuffle the deck for a fixed (usually odd) number of times, like seven, nine or thirteen. I have never been able to get behind this way of doing things. It is, however, a traditional approach, so I thought it better to mention it.
I distinguish between when I’m reading for myself, or even for someone else, but who isn’t there; and when the person is with me, even just on the phone or on skype (I used to do skype readings for friends all the time when I was in college).
The second case is the easiest, so I’ll talk about it first: when I’m reading for someone and I am directly in contact with them, I simply ask them to think about the question and to give me a stop when they are ready. Meanwhile, I decide which spread to use, then I relax and I take on an attitude of calm focus, without strain.
The person may have me shuffle for two minutes, or they may tell me to stop after two shuffles. After the stop, if the person is physically there, I also let them cut the deck, otherwise I do it for them after knocking three times on its back (that’s my little ritual). As weird as it sounds, the cards always seem to fall into place very well regardless of how long it took to shuffle them.
I believe this is because, in a reading, there is more at play than just two eccentrics’ focus on a topic. We may like to concoct philosophies that give us ultimate power over external reality, but the fact remain that we live at the intersection of cosmic, personal and interpersonal currents, a number of which are beyond our control. Our focus may catalyze these forces, but they are more ingenious than our conscious awareness could be.
In the first case, i.e., when I’m reading for myself or for someone who isn’t there, I need to be especially at peace with myself. If I’m distracted, depressed, in a heightened mood or very sick, the reading won’t go well. Even when I am at peace, there is always a question mark at the end of my readings, like they are never as crisp as when I’m reading for someone else who is there with me.
So, how long do I shuffle in this case? The answer may be disheartening for some, but it’s: as long as I feel I need to. This is hard to explain, but one soon learns to recognize the feeling of a well-shuffled deck. Some may feel the deck becomes heavier, others seem to just get an undefined feeling.
For my part, I usually feel a sensation akin to being full after eating a hearty meal and being unable to take another bite, while at the same time the deck itself seems to oppose resistance to being shuffled as the cards lock into the right place. Your experience may vary.
In my latest reading, an interesting phenomenon happened: I had to partly go beyond the basic rules of the oracle (in this case the tarot) in order to interpret its message. Specifically, I had to get past the rule that only the Wand figures represent the querents and accept the Queen of Cups as an alternative version of the subject in question.
There is always a reason why something happens, and in this case I believe the possible reasons were 1) that I was asking about my mother, so the cards described her not only as the protagonist of the reading (Wand) but also as mother of the person asking the question (Cup) 2) the reading was, in part, about her still viewing herself as wife, even though she is widowed, so not only is she the protagonist (Wand) but also a wife (Cup).
I am pretty sure this sort of things (that is, the need to apply the ground rules with discretion) can happen in different respects with any deck. In fact, I think it can happen with any oracle. The late Robert Zoller often showed that good astrologers need to be guided by what the chart is saying, which often requires one to start from recorded knowledge and then stretch that knowledge to cover each individual case. William Lilly, possibly the most important horary astrologer in history, often repeated that one must “mix discretion with art”, that is, understand the rules and then apply them intelligently.
The thing is, divination is not an assembly line type of work: it’s a Hermetic art (where the word ‘Hermetic’ is understood in its classical sense, not the Kybalion-style crap). If even the rules of biology need to be interpreted smartly by doctors in order to cure the human body, then how much more flexible do we need to be to interpret a device whose permutations can give us the blueprint for anything that could happen?
Anything goes vs informed pragmatism
My understanding of divination is a never-ending journey. The way I currently see the rules of divination is as posts along the way in a thick snowstorm. If a post has been put somewhere, that means someone was there before and has figured out something. We do not discard such knowledge lightly, unless the contingent reality of our current situation makes us prefer another route.
This approach is very different from the ‘anything goes’ non-method used by so many, which is almost expected and even bragged about, largely due to the widespread rejection of rationality in our milieu. Too many people who dabble into esoteric subjects today seem to believe that throwing overboard logic is the first step on the journey. In part this is due to mistaken orientalist fantasies, in part to a post-modern Zeitgeist that sees all structures as dispensable, reactionary dead weight only good for restraining us– who wants to be restrained?
The way I currently see rules in the esoteric arts is neither reactionary nor revolutionary. It is an attempt at appraising reality through lenses as simple as possible and as complex as they need to be, a kind of pragmatism that is informed by the past but future-oriented in looking for concrete solutions to concrete issues.
As far as divination is concerned, it is a language, but it is a language with no native speakers, and for which no Rosetta stone exists, except the tentative hypotheses of those who have grappled with the language before. We don’t need to vest them with our superstitious awe, but we do owe them a serious, dispassionate look at the conclusions they have reached before either accepting them as they are, discarding them or expanding them with discretion.
a reading with interesting implications. Like and subscribe to support my work
I thought this was a rather interesting reading, in part because of what it revealed and in part because it shows that divination requires rules and flexibility. I’ll probably talk about it again in an article.
(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 Eight of Swords from the Builders of the Adytum (BOTA) tarot deck
Paul Foster Case (and Ann Davies)
The time period is the first decanate of Gemini, May 21 to May 31, under the rulership of Mercury. Well-Dignified: even well-dignified, the excessive Mercurial influence expressing in the Yetziratic field of unstable forces and changing forms, symbolized by the Eight of Swords, gives a marked tendency toward ill-directed or wasted action. Meanings in divination: force wasted in petty affairs; too much talk; too much illdirected action; the state of being terribly busy without accomplishing much; over-careful about details; could possibly intimate a crisis in affairs, and probably much talk, correspondence and moving about. Ill-Dignified: malice; ill-natured gossip; pettiness; too much concern with personalities; disagreements with brothers and sisters. This Key divinatorily expresses unbalanced or excessive Gemini qualities in third house affairs. The se negative Gemini qualities portend the need for balancing the quick-mindedness and penchant for action of this astrological type with the d e pth of feeling and emotional warmth corresponding to Netzach and Venus. Keyword: Mediocrity (From the Oracle of Tarot course)
A. E. Waite
A woman, bound and hoodwinked, with the swords of the card about her. Yet it is rather a card of temporary durance than of irretrievable bondage. Divinatory Meanings: Bad news, violent chagrin, crisis, censure, power in trammels, conflict, calumny; also sickness. Reversed: Disquiet, difficulty, opposition, accident, treachery; what is unforeseen; fatality. (From The Pictorial Key to the Tarot)
The Eight of Swords from the Rider Waite Smith tarot
Aleister Crowley
The Eight of Swords is called Interference. At first sight, it would seem easy to confuse it with the Eight of Cups; but the idea is, in reality, quite different. The card is attributed to Jupiter and Gemini; accordingly, there is no weighing down of the will by internal or external stress. It is simply the error of being good-natured when good-nature is disastrous. Gemini is an airy sign, an intellectual sign; Jupiter is geniality and optimism. This will not do in the world of Swords; if one must hit at all, a knock-out blow is best.
But there is another element in this card; that of unexpected (the Eights, being at heart Mercurial, are always that) interference, sheer unforeseen bad luck. Trivial incidents have often altered the destiny of empires, brought to naught “the best laid plans of mice and men”.
[…]
The number Eight, Hod, here signifies lack of persistence in matters of the intellect and of contest. Good fortune, however, attends even these weakened efforts, thanks to the influence of Jupiter in Gemini, ruling the Decan. Yet the Will is constantly thwarted by accidental interference.
The centre of the card is occupied by two long Swords pointed downward. These are crossed by six small swords, three on each side. They remind one of weapons peculiar to their countries or their cults; we see here the Kriss, the Kukri, the Scramasax, the Dagger, the Machete and the Yataghan. (From The Book of Thoth)
The Eight of Swords from the Thoth tarot deck
Golden Dawn’s Book T
FOUR White Radiant Angelic Hands issuing from clouds, each holding two swords, points upwards; all the points touch near the top of the card. Hands issue, two at each bottom angle of the card. The pose of the other sword symbols is reestablished in the centre. Above and below are the Decan symbols Jupiter and Gemini.
Too much force applied to small things: too much attention to detail at the expense of the principal and more important points. When ill dignified, these qualities produce malice, pettiness, and domineering characteristics. Patience in detail of study; great care in some things, counterbalanced by equal disorder in others. Impulsive; equally fond of giving or receiving money or presents;
generous, clever, acute, selfish and without strong feeling of affection. Admires wisdom, yet applies it to small and unworthy objects.
Hod of HB:V (Narrow, restricted, petty, a prison). Therein rule the Angels HB:VMBAL and HB:YHHAL.
Etteilla
Criticism Upright. This card, as far as the medicine of the spirit is concerned, means, in its natural position: Criticism, Unfortunate position, Critical moment, Critical time, Decisive instant, Unfortunate situation, Delicate circumstance, Crisis. – Examination, Discussion, Research, Blame, Censure, Critical comment, Critical epilogue, Control, Disapproval, Condemnation, Cassation, Judgment, Contempt. Reversed. Accident, Difficulty, Particular circumstance, Conjunction, Occurrence, Accessory, Unconscious, Obstacle, Delay, Hindrance. – Abjection. – Contestation, Contradiction, Opposition, Resistance, Divergence. – Unplanned, Unforeseen, Chance, Adventure, Occurrence, Destiny, Fatality, Accident, Misfortune, Symptom
The great thing about occultism being my life but not my job is that I get to do whatever I please. Well, right now it pleases me to talk about this deck, somehow.
Fortune-telling with Piquet cards or Skat cards. Like the video and subscribe
I Tarocchi Parlano (The Tarot Speaks) by Maria Luigia Ingallati is perhaps the most well-known book about the Tarocchino Bolognese in Italy, and the one that, thanks to its success, launched the rediscovery of this deck outside of its native region. Since the publication of Ingallati’s book, the Bolognese tarot has enjoyed a small but growing cult following. This, we shall see, is probably the book’s greatest merit, though not the only one.
Ingallati herself is not from Bologna. She relocated there many years prior to the publication of her first book (‘Il Tarocchino Bolognese’, which I will review separately). There, she started seeing the local card readers, getting her fortunes told and learning a great deal from them, until she began practicing the art herself and synthesizing a personal method from the Bolognese tradition and her own experience as a card reader.
The book does a good job of presenting Ingallati’s journey, and it is undeniable that her personality shines through the pages of the richly illustrated volume. Ingallati is a good story-teller, enjoys reading and talking about poetry, philosophy and psychology, all of which she uses to shed light on the Bolognese tarot.
Ingallati uses a personal variation of the 50-card method, comprised of the following cards: the 18 surviving Major Arcana; the 3 Strangers or Moors; 7 Cup cards (Ace, Nine, Ten and the Court); 6 Wand cards (Ace, Six and the Court); 8 Coin cards (Ace, Six, Nine, Ten and the Court); 7 Sword cards (Ace, Six, Seven and the Court); and the red Joker.
Of Ingallati’s selection, the choice to include the Joker is the one that has always stuck out like a sore thumb to me. The traditional deck includes no Jokers, since they are not needed for playing card games, and to this day only one producer has recently randomly decided to add them. That being said, Ingallati is very careful in acknowledging what she took from the tradition and what she introduced as her own innovation.
The book starts off with a chapter on the history of the Tarocchino. It is not the best and most accurate historical account, but it covers most of the basics and it is the one most people will skip anyway. Then, Ingallati presents the spreads she uses. This is a peculiar trait of her method, which she also teaches in her private classes: she uses a huge variety of spreads one after the other to move from an account of the querent’s past to the future.
No time is wasted on the technical details of how to lay out the cards, in what order, etc.: the reader is left to his or her own initiative of how to apply the traditional spreads. This may overwhelm us at the beginning, but it is clear that she thinks everyone should find their own way of laying out the traditional spreads, which is fair. This is possibly the most interesting part of the book: Ingallati’s method is a synthesis of many strands of traditional lore about the spreads which can be mined by reading the section carefully and comparing it to other sources.
Only after the section on the spreads does Ingallati start her discussion of the card meanings. Here, the writer spends, in my opinion, way too much time overanalyzing the various details of color and symbol. We learn, thus, that the shape of the lace on this or that character’s tunic has this or that meaning; that the number of triangular shapes on the Queen of Coin’s scepter suggests certain symbolic interpretations; that the colors of the Fool’s feathers is very important.
Of course, none of this has any historical relevance nor any bearing on the interpretation of the cards, nor with the traditional, succint meanings that Ingallati scatters around in the descriptions, sometimes almost as an afterthought. This leaves one wondering if the overzealous interpretation of the various bits of design was just the happy meeting point between the publisher needing a longer book and the writer being happy to provide it with a clear poetic gusto for the mysterious and the metaphorical. Almost every card is accompanied by snippets of poetry and aphorisms, anecdotes as well as by illustrations of some combinations.
The final part of the book is dedicated to Jungian character analysis based on the Bolognese tarot, something that the author clearly has a great deal of interest in, and for which she provides some curious combinations that might be worth trying.
Ingallati’s book is hard to review objectively. It has the incredible historical merit of having brought the Bolognese tarot to a wider public, and it is undeniable that her poetic and evocative style and her attempt at ennobling it as a ‘legitimate’ tool for divination is part of why she succeeded.
The esoteric landscape has a growing public of people I like to call educated suckers, those who think themselves too smart and learned for folk superstitions but can easily be sold on the idea of reinterpreting them as deeper mysteries of personal development and esoterically flavored self-help. This is the reason why so many ‘real and only’ Tarot of Marseilles’ get sold every year, together with ridiculously expensive courses on ‘this is not divination’ and books of metaphysical platitudes that sound deep if you don’t think too much about them.
Ingallati struck gold when she managed to appeal to this kind of public with her literary style while also preserving the teachings she received and developed from the card readers she met in Bologna. In doing so she succeeded where the small handful of other books published before and since failed: creating a niche for the Bolognese tarot. Despite my sarcasm in the previous paragraph, this is no small accomplishment. Pragmatically speaking, it is a serious merit.
The book also excels at being a treasure trove of meanings, spreads, combinations and suggestions that can be studied, reflected on and compared with other sources. It is certainly a book I recommend, in this regard.
Ok, I swear this is the last deck I’m buying for a while, but it was only a couple of € on Ebay, and it was vintage, so yeah.
A Schafkopf deck
It is actually a Schafkopf deck (literally, sheep head), and it is comprised of 36 cards. As far as I can tell, not all Schafkopf reading traditions use all 36 cards, as some discard the sixes.
In the latest reading I presented, an interesting phenomenon occurred. At some point during the reading, two cards came up that seemed very negative, but which actually had nothing to do with the reading in itself. Instead, they simply acted as some form of punctuation. This happens especially with simple methods like the one I used, called ‘alla zdoura’ (literally, ‘method of the housewife’, or ‘like the housewives do it’ in dialect), where we start with a very limited number of cards, usually one, two or three, and then we keep adding them without following a specific layout.
In this type of reading, if the cards need to signal that we are changing topics and moving on to a new one, they may use cards or combinations that show an ending (sometimes even just the Death card). Of course, I had a huge deal of luck in this reading, because it came up clear. It isn’t always like that. Often, these combinations look really bad, but if we look around we see that they feel out of place.
In playing cards, the same can happen when the Four of Spades and Five of Spades, or the Ace of Spades, or the Five of Diamonds come up. Usually, in these situations, it pays to zoom out of the reading and catch the general flow of it: it will become apparent, generally, whether these cards are part of the reading or if they act as punctuation.
I am also experiencing a similar phenomenon while experimenting with the Bolognese tarot. For instance, in the first few lines of a thirteen- card spread, it may happen that the Angel and Death cards come up together, and then the cards seem to discuss other topics. In this case, the cards seem to be answering the question positively and quickly, only to introduce new discussions. At other times, the Queen of Coins comes up to say “and that’s the truth about it, period.” or the Justice card, to say “and that ok the way it is.” Of course, I need to experiment a little more, especially to see if apparently negative combinations can act in the same way.
