O Crown of Light, O Darkened One, I never thought we’d meet. You kiss my lips, and then it’s done: I’m back on Boogie Street.
The Lover/L’Amoureux has typically been interpreted as Hercules (Herakles) at the Crossroads, or an emblematic representation of the choice between vice and virtue. Other theories abound – that the young man is choosing between an older and younger woman, or the older woman is bequeathing her daughter. It’s been debated, also, whether the word is singular or plural. [Answer: singular, although it can also be used as plural.] Here it most likely refers to the central character; ‘the loving one’, ‘the amorous one’, ‘the lover’. But the triad is also important.
While these explanations are adequate, if we want to know what lies beneath the surface, we must, as always, pay attention to the details in this version of the card, which are ‘hidden in plain sight.’
Visconti-Sforza Love ca 1450 and Charles VI Lovers ca 1475-1500.Love (fragment) Cary Sheet, ca 1500.
First, let’s look at the Visconti-Sforza and Charles VI cards, which offer few, but relevant clues. The V-S depicts the actual people for whom the deck was commissioned, Bianca Maria Visconti and Francesco Sforza, who were married in 1441 to unite the Visconti and Sforza families. This has nothing to do with the eventual TdM theme, except that it may have been inspired by Tristan and Isolde (very popular in Italy at the time), also likely the subject of the Cary fragment. In the legend, Tristan is delivering Isolde to a king to be married, but the two of them drink a love potion en route and tragic, ‘courtly love’, ensues.
Death of Tristan and Isolt, Rogelio de Egusquiza, 1910
In the Charles VI card, a pair of very determined cupids shoot at three pairs of courtly lovers below. Two of the men on either side clasp their hearts, while the one in the middle can’t contain his passion for his lady. That’s what it was all about – Eros had 0 to do with marriage.
The claw-footed Love, from Documenti d’Amore by Francesco da Barberino, ca 1315.
The Charles VI card recalls the imaginings of the early Renaissance poet and Giotto contemporary, Francesco da Barberino, who “deliberately inverted” love’s personification, emphasizing Cupid as the son of Mars and changed his image from “a personification of Divine Love to a personification of illicit Sensuality” by removing his blindfold.*
The connection to erotic love (Eros) and death is becoming established, and the card becomes less about marital love in the general sense. Much too dull for theatre, darling.
The Lovers, Anon. Tarot of Paris, ca 1650.
The Anonymous Tarot of Paris (ca 1650) gives us our first clue as to the French tradition. The amorous man holding in his arms a resigned, but not altogether unwilling woman might be modelled on Pluto and Persephone. The engraver has managed to convey much in her downward gaze, as if the man’s saying, ‘Come live with me, reign as my Underworld Queen!’ and she’s having an inner conflict, ‘Do I really want to go live down there…forever??’ Think of all the young women who must have felt this way through the centuries, marrying men they hardly knew, often far from home. The story of Bluebeard takes this very rational fear to its extreme.
Winslow Homer, ‘What she sees there’ from Bluebeard.
In ancient Greco-Roman times, love was rarely, if ever, the basis for marriage. A bride would effectively ‘die’ to her own family, transferred as property from father to husband, and would from here on have to worship at the altar of his family ancestors. Because it would be insulting to her own ancestral gods if she abandoned them willingly, a ‘faux’ kidnapping a la Pluto and Persephone had to be enacted, which is where the tradition of ‘carrying the bride over the threshold’ comes from. She has to pretend it’s not her own choice, that she was stolen!
Pompeii fresco featuring the abduction of Persephone.
In actual fact, Persephone (‘bringer of destruction’, ‘bringer of death’, aka the ‘Iron Queen’) was already an Underworld ruler for a long time before the Hellenized myth, and the TdM card is perhaps faithful to this. Before Persephone’s abduction and while she’s above ground, she is called ‘Kore’ (‘maiden’), and as part of the Underworld Goddess triad with Demeter and Hecate, she’s also the ‘maiden’ to mother and crone. Her priestesses were called ‘kores’ (masc. ‘kouros’) and it’s possible that initiation involved ritual marriage with one, ie, ‘marrying death’, so that later, ‘death’ in the form of a beautiful, young, underworld partner awaited the initiate when the time came to cross that threshold. Nobody knows for sure.
Sculpture of a Kore
The connection to Persephone in Tarot of Paris becomes more honed and specific in the TdM card.Here, it is the man who some would assume is having to make a choice. He looks toward the woman wearing a crown of leaves or fronds, while his arms point toward the woman wearing a crown of flowers. The Pierre Madenié 1709 version makes it perfectly clear what kind: Narcissus, the flower Persephone was said to have been picking when she was snatched by Pluto. Further, if we look carefully at the halo around Eros above, in the Conver (type 2) versions, it is visibly skull-shaped. This can hardly be a printing mistake.
Pierre Madenié [type 2] 1709 (Yves Renaud) and orig. Jean Dodal [type 1] c 1701-15.Not convinced? Alright, let’s turn to Dodal (type 1). It is difficult to make out the details of this somewhat ‘cubist’ Eros, but we if we examine closely, we see that his bow is also the handle of a jagged scythe or sickle (maybe a mix of both), which is an attribute of Demeter, as well as Kronos-Saturn, sixth planet-god from the Sun (ancient ‘end of the line’). So we can deduce that, in the esoteric sense of this card, the young man stands between Demeter and Persephone. He could be an initiate, who, after having undergone the ritual would have been referred to as one of the ‘olbioi’, meaning ‘blessed’ ‘blissful’ or ‘fortunate’ – ie, no longer fearing death. He looks kind of blissful…
Reconstructed fragment of ‘The Great Eleusinian Relief’ 27 BC-14 AD (MET) and sarcophagus detail from 2nd c (Louvre) depicting Triptolemus with Demeter and Persephone. [please click image for more details]Central to the Eleusinian Mysteries was the hero Triptolemus, frequently depicted in the same setting, standing between Demeter and Persephone. He was the first initiate, who received from Demeter the knowledge of the grain; ie, the art of agriculture, the cycles of which also held the secrets of death and rebirth (metempsychosis). The Demeter cult was first and foremost an agricultural one.
(Syracuse in Italy, that is).
An ear of golden grain [barley, sometimes referred to as ‘corn’, though actual maize would not reach Europe until 1492] can be seen in the very first card. The Fool also has a similar shape dangling from his belt, though in this case I think it’s his passport – a leaf-shaped, gold, Orphic tablet. But anything gold, especially if flame-shaped, generally has to do with fire and the eternal, ever-resplendent spirit.
[click pic for more details]Honey, the liquid gold of nature’s tiny agriculturalists has been used to anoint and in libations since ancient times. (‘Christos’ means ‘anointed one’). This is, after all, the 6th card, and the hexagram of the apis has 6 sides. Astute TdM lovers will recall that the type 2 Queen of Money (Reyne de Denier) has a bee/beehive staff and her crown resembles a honey comb. This raises the question, are the ‘coins’ actually coins? Or are they phailes (libation dishes)?
Conver (type 2) and Dodal (type 1) Queen of Coins (Are those pine cones on her crown?)‘Spolia’ featuring ritual objects from temple of Demeter at Eleusis, repurposed on ‘Little Metropolis’ church in Athens: torches with poppies (baton), libation phaile (coin), incense burner (cup) and bucranium of sacrificed ox (sword). The crosses above are meant to ‘baptize’ and thereby neutralize the pagan imagery.
We should not be too rigid about naming precisely which mystery cult the cards might be pointing to, as the imagery seems to draw from several traditions as well as being mytho-alchemical. But the Eleusinian and Bacchic cults were inter-related, and one needn’t throw a stick far in ancient Greek myth to find some hero or heroine transgressing death in search of a loved one or sacred object and returning twice born and wiser or crazier for it. Dionysus, the Greek Osiris, was closely associated with alchemy, because his crop of expertise was the grape, and wine-making involved the essential fermentation process, from the blackened soil to the distillation of spirit. The long-haired Lover is certainly Dionysian, as his popularity with the ladies shows. To me it looks like they might be undressing him.
Isis and Nephthys preparing their beloved Osiris for his Underworld travels, Conver Lover card, fresco of an initiate from Tigran Tomb, Alexandria (note the Orphic eggs).
Worth a mention here is the similarity between the woman on the left of the Conver card with the Valet of Batons. Might this suggest a link to the Dionysian ritual phallus, or, to the club of Hercules, weighted/pulled toward the Underworld, while the young man looks ahead? Is he drawing up some chthonic energy, or, like the Juggler (prototype of the Valets), is he too young and inexperienced to recognize its ritual significance? Instead, maybe he’s using it to measure true, astronomical and visible horizons, with the intention of building a temple to his god…a Herculean task, surely.
Valet of Batons and detail from Lover cardRuins of Dionysus temple at Delos, Greece
Hercules had to become an initiate in order to go kidnap Cerberus, the three headed hound of Hades, as his final labour. So if this card does relate to him, he’s likely not at the crossroads choosing between two women, but at the crossroads of the upper and lower realms, receiving initiation from two goddesses. In the next card, the newly-anointed, golden-crowned hero is in a liminal state, his lower half having descended into a square-shaped (matter/earth/Saturn) Chariot that is at least partly fixed to the ground (in type 2), resembling something funerary.
Don’t strain yourself thinking to hard, Herc! Engraving by Giulio Romano, 16th c
Eros, son of Aphrodite, was said to be able to overpower all the heroes, for love really does wipe out fear of death (Thanatos) and the loss of a love is akin to dying. I’ll be entertaining/tackling this topic further, from a different horizon, in an upcoming post about the Sun card. Stay tuned!~rb
So come, my friends, be not afraid. We are so lightly here. It is in love that we are made; In love we disappear.
***
Credits:
*Shelly MacLaren, “Or guarda tu …desta donna la forma”: Francesco da Barberino’s Poetic and Pictorial Invention (Dissertation)
Lyrics from ‘Boogie Street’ by Sharon Robertson/Leonard Cohen
They are never final in the sense of a literal statement, which would fix the mind to a given point; nor are they final in the sense of the mystical Absolute in which all images would vanish. Rather they keep the mind in continued suspense by presenting the paradox of an ‘inherent transcendence’; they persistently hint at more than they say. It is a mistake, therefore, to overlook a certain ambiguity in the praise of hieroglyphs which Ficino, and after him Giordano Bruno, adopted from an incidental remark by Plotinus. In a famous passage of the fifth Ennead, Plotinus had suggested that Egyptian ciphers are more suitable for sacred script than alphabetic writing because they represent the diverse parts of a discourse as implicit, and thus concealed, in one single form. Since Pico ascribed the same virtue to the writing of Hebrew without vowels, it is legitimate to suspect that the Renaissance speculations on ‘implicit signs’ were not concerned with a positive theory of optical intuition, but with that far less attractive subject called steganography, the cryptic recording of sacred knowledge. Because God, in the opinion of Ficino, ‘has knowledge of things not by a multiplicity of thoughts about an object, but by a simple and firm grasp of its essence’, it seemed only right that the Egyptian priests had imitated the divine comprehension in their script, signifying ‘the divine mysteries not by the use of minutely written letters, but of whole figures of plants, trees, and beasts.’ But as Erasmus observed in the Adagia, the content of these figures was not meant to be open to direct inspection, or ‘accessible to anyone’s guess’; they presupposed in the reader a full acquaintance with the properties of each animal, plant, or thing represented… Thus, contrary to the divine intelligence which the reading of hieroglyphs is supposed to foreshadow, the intuitive grasp of them depends on discursive knowledge. Unless one knows what a hieroglyph means, one cannot see what it says. But once one has acquired the relevant knowledge, ‘unfolded’ by more or less exoteric instruction, one can take pleasure in finding it ‘infolded’ in an esoteric image or sign.
With this in mind, let us venture, armed with discursive information, to intuitively grasp the divine intelligence ‘infolded’ in this most hieroglyphic of TdM triumphs. [As always, click any images to enlarge and for more info.]
PART ONE
15th century ‘Fortitude’ cards: Visconti-Sforza, Cary-Yale, Charles VI
Earliest examples of the Fortitude card expressed the concept allegorically as physical strength/courage; Hercules or Samson beating up the lion or a formidable lady exerting control over it (taming animal instinct or temperament). Alternately, this formidable Virtue could be found grasping or busting up a pillar, as you do. Sadly, the dragon-extractor with an anvil on her head standing on a wine press didn’t get selected…guess Medieval fashions had become passé.
Engravings: Samson rendering the Lion late 15th c, Hans Ledenspelder ‘Forteza’ (after 15th c “Mantegna” prints) mid 16th c
La Force from a French Book of Hours, 1430-35 [Morgan Library]Numerous variations of a man or woman atop a lion also appear in Valeriano’s 1556 Hieroglyphica book. He and others were directly inspired by Horapollo Nilous, an Egyptian scribe and one of the last remaining priests of Isis, whose ‘translations’ of Egyptian hieroglyphs had been re-discovered in 1422 and put to print in 1505. Such as,‘To denote Strength, they portray the FOREPARTS OF A LION, because these are the most powerful members of his body.’ Read all about Horapollo’s Hieroglyphica and TdM here.
Lion tamers from Valeriano’s Hieroglyphica 1556
The word ‘force/forza’ comes from Latin ‘fortis’, meaning “strong, mighty; firm, steadfast; brave, bold.” It later came to include “courage, fortitude; violence, power, compulsion.” Being top of the food chain and having a solar mane (Leo), the noble lion is one of the oldest symbols of power and rule, including rule of law; it’s roar equated with the thundering word of God. Examples are exhaustive, going back to ancient times. But male deities could only hope to possess or overcome this indomitable force of nature, which ultimately belonged to the great Mother – giver, protectress and taker of life.
Lion Goddess Medley (click image for details)
Without diving too far into the whole lion-goddess topic, there are a couple that might be mythically relevant to us; Al-lāt and Medusa/the Gorgoneion/Athena. We’ll return to them, and to Hercules, in a circular fashion. But the use of a woman, rather than Hercules or Samson, in the TdM Strength card might be intended to illustrate a ‘princely virtue not confined of military strategy, a combination of force and prudence’ and the mitigating effect of Venus on Mars’ impulsive and destructive nature. She does not destroy it – nothing would ever perish without Mars, creating a different kind of imbalance – merely keeps it in check, Venus as lion-tamer.
Henri Cartier-Bresson, The House with the Caryatids, Athens, 1953
When we place all the numbered triumphs in a row, Strength/La Force is situated smack in the middle – a gateway or junction between earth and heaven, waking life and the intermediate state, or even just at midlife:
Midway upon the journey of our life I found myself within a forest dark, For the straightforward pathway had been lost.
Ah me! how hard a thing it is to say What was this forest savage, rough, and stern, Which in the very thought renews the fear.
So bitter is it, death is little more; But of the good to treat, which there I found, Speak will I of the other things I saw there.
That we can’t readily locate Prudence might indicate that Justice, Force and Temperance are more than just classical Virtues, if not the totality of them. Note how they all fall into the ‘2’ placement, according to the Pythagorean cosmology, ‘One becomes two, two becomes three, and out of the third comes the one as the fourth.’ Justice and Temperance flank Force on either side like two caryatids; one holding a sword and scales of dismemberment, the other, watery vessels of renewal. Seven cards (as with the 1s and 3s), three on either side of the central one.
Cards in the ‘2’ placement, Camoin-Jodorowsky deck, 1997
Ten, the divine number that forms the mystic tetractys – was also of great importance to Pythagoreans. Here is how the cards match up using their Roman numerals (this is not the numerology way of adding the digits together to reduce it to the ‘lower octave’, which can only be done with Arabic numerals):
Our chief concern here is that I (Le Bateleur), XI (La Force) and XXI (Le Monde) represent beginning, middle and end (and/or vice versa). In the beginning, as mentioned in this post about the Juggler/Bateleur, we see beneath his table a little, mandorla-shaped flame or golden barley grain (or cypress tree), in the distance. At the end, the complete being makes their appearance inside a similarly shaped wreath. And at the half-way mark, the lion’s maw extends directly from the yonic gates. Unique to TdM, this strongwoman doesn’t simply straddle the lion, it is part of her, just like Skylla’s hounds.
The ‘rule of three’: beginning, middle and end (Nicolas Conver TdM, ca 1760)
The pip cards are also numbered I to X, and the suit of swords bears a similar design to XXI. To Pythagoreans, the Vesica Piscis created by two, intersecting circles represented the intersection of heaven and earth – a place where dimensions merge into a lens or keyhole through which a more essential (or quintessential) reality might be glimpsed. Of course the church picked this concept up and ran with it.
Immaculate Conception, Taller del Pinturicchio, ca 1490
Notice how the TdM suit continually ‘blinks’ from sword (masc/odd) to flower (fem/even), until a blending of both (active red becomes passive blue, one sword becomes two) in the last card. The design is thought to be based on playing cards that originated during the Mamluk sultanate in Egypt, which ended in the early 16th century.
Conver TdM Sword pips
Now for a slight detour…
For over a thousand years prior to Islam, Northern Arabia and well beyond had been the domain of Al-lāt, central figure of a lunar triad known as ‘Manat’. The Black Stone in the Kabaa at Mecca (thought to be a meteor) was once part of Al-lāt’s cult and, as such, is not mentioned in the Quran. ‘The Kaaba marked the location where the sacred world intersected with the profane, and the embedded Black Stone was a further symbol of this; an object as a link between heaven and earth.’ [Wikipedia] There were in fact two more stones (the other two goddess of the lunar triad?), a red one associated with the deity of the South Arabian city of Ghaiman and a white one in the Kabaa of Al-Abalat, near the city of Tabala, south of Mecca. (Note the relation to the three primary colours of alchemy).
Manat triad with Al-lāt in the style of Athena and Lion of Al-lāt from her temple (destroyed by ISIL).
One of the hidden secrets of the medieval bardic romance is the Arabian origin of the Waste Land motif, most prominent in the Holy Grail cycle of tales. Despite monkish efforts to convert it into a Christian chalice, the Grail was generally recognized as a female symbol, whose loss implied fear for the fertility of the earth. Crusaders had seen for themselves the desolation of Arabia Deserta, one of the most lifeless regions on earth. They heard the Shi’ite heretics’ explanation for it: Islam had offended the Great Goddess, and she had cursed the land and departed. Now nothing would grow there. [Barbara G. Walker, The Women’s Encyclopedia of Myths and Secrets]
Preserving the source: Rochais 18th c, Visconti-Sforza 15th c, Al Leone 17th cMoon face(?) detail of Visconti-Sforza card (attributed to Bonifacio Bembo)
In the three Aces of Cups, above, the lunar triad and feminine symbolism is obvious, as is a hint of Islamic influence. In the two, printed cards, it almost looks as if her ‘house’ has been up and transplanted (from the Holy Land?).
The Lyford House being transplanted by barge, 1957
In Christianity, the triple Moon Goddess became the ‘three Marys,’ the central or all-in-one figure being the ‘Mother of God.’ There were variations on the triad, depending on the context. She could also be expressed as the three virgins – Mother Mary with St. Catherine and St. Barbara.
In TdM tradition, the cup’s tripartite, central, steeple (flanked by three ‘minarets’ on each side = seven) evokes the robed Madonna – or at least something veiled and sacred with three conjoined circles at the top. All the great cathedrals of Europe were built and named for ‘Our Lady.’ Somewhat surprisingly, Mary is revered in Islam as the greatest and purest woman that ever lived, and is the only woman mentioned in the Quran.
Mary ‘Our Lady Of Willesden’ pilgrim’s badge, early 16th c
The Visconti-Sforza card depicts a beautiful fountain with water flowing from the ‘waxing’ and ‘waning’ flowers. Its central flower is aligned with the vessel-shaped winged figure, which may or may not have a full Moon face (it is too damaged to be certain). Under the Visconti, 14th-early 15th century Milan was a centre of Marian veneration out of which, despite macho, power politics, much wealth, beauty, art and culture was generated (or re-generated), including the hand-painted Tarot cards that bear their name.
Madonna and child flanked by lions, from a 15th c Parisian Book of Hours
END OF PART ONE
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PART TWO
Welcome back. Now let’s return to the card in question and examine some details of our TdM mistress, beginning with her infamous hat. Many have noted its ‘lemniscate’ shape, but otherwise it’s a conundrum. Examples of Renaissance era straw hats, hair nets (most likely) and headgear are continually compared, as if to suggest there is no other reason for its weird shape except that’s just (kind of like) what people wore. Well, alright, but why did the artist choose this particular shape of hat, for this particular card? Consistent in Tarot de Marseille, which takes cues from Renaissance art, is that the image components must serve more than one, visual function and must therefore remain vague enough to evoke or suggest, but never give the whole game away. It’s a puzzle we are invited to figure out.
Dodal (type 1) and Conver (type 2) hats
In both type 1 and 2 versions, only one side of the brim has a leafy/scaled pattern. We’ve established that XI is midway between I and XXI, and that what begins as a single ‘grain’ shape in the first card will become a whole wreath in the end. Might it not stand to reason, then, that only one side of her hat has been ‘filled’ thus far?
The scaly side in type 1 also strangely resembles a (bearded) serpent head, like that of the Egypto-Greco-Roman Agathos Daimon or ‘good spirit’ guarding the mysteries in the catacombs, below (and in opener image). The four, petal-like shapes in the gorgoneion (Medusa mask) above it are also a close fit.
Kom el Shoqafa Egypto-Greco-Roman catacombs, Alexandria [photo: Justina Atlasito]In the Conver card, we immediately notice a few irksome details about this so-called ‘lion.’ Number one, that it is not a lion at all, but a clearly something canine – or perhaps a bear – wearing a lion’s skin (and evoking the serpent?). Also, the top of the woman’s hat seems to replicate the beast’s lower mandible. In some versions, the lion has no lower teeth, as if they have migrated to her hat (below, right), but in others (the close up, below), it still has a few. Was the artist/printer really that bad at lions, or did they alter the image intentionally?
Addendum:Didier Dufond, who is the expert on Bacchic-Orphic symbolism in TdM recently pointed out (in a comment on the Fool post, which is perhaps more relevant within the context of this post):
..I add that this liturgical sequence was unknown to scholars at the time of the Renaissance, which suggests a direct transmission, far from the elites of that time. Same concealment technique with the strange hat of Force, with the pine cone of the thyrsus decorated with a knot, plus undoubtedly a snake and a crown of ivy, all attributes of the bacchantes. And a bacchante thinking of tearing off the head of a lion with her hands is known in Euripides’ tragedy The Bacchae, when it was about her own son, Pentheus.
So, in this case, the serpentine ‘petals’ of the gorgoneion in the tomb are pinecones just like in the thyrsus the Agathos Daimon below holds. Can’t believe I didn’t catch that!!
What he is referring to is a scene in said Greek tragedy where Pentheus, King of Thebes, having imprisoned and insulted Dionysus, ends up having his head torn off by his own mother, Agave, who thinks he is a lion. So much for the ‘princely virtue not confined of military strategy, a combination of force and prudence’ and the mitigating effect of Venus on Mars’ impulsive and destructive nature! Agave is clearly a force of nature. I need to study this play.
It has also been suggested that the beast resembles the ‘Tarasque‘, an ancient, lion-headed, dragon-like creature from French/Gaulish mythology that was ‘tamed’ by St. Martha. This does not change the esoteric meaning at all, but rather adds to it, since Martha was one of the ‘3 Marys’ and appears in connection with her brother Lazarus being raised from the dead.
Valentin & Dubesset 1637-1685 (oldest known type 2) and Conver ca 1760Nicolas Conver (British Museum card) ca 1760
2 placement cards always depict some kind of vessel(s), here represented by her two, mismatched, gold vambraces. In Conver versions, each is divided by eight lines into nine sections (excluding the full bands on the ends). This might not be accidental, as we shall see.
It’s also odd that the artist, after having taken such great care with the animal’s detail right down to the teeth, would have neglect to fix the lady’s goitre – another detail unique to Conver (supposed to be her hair). Now it looks as though her head has been, idk, severed? Hmm, what mythical being had a severed head with serpent scales…oh right.
“Visita Interiora Terrae Rectificando Invenies Occultum Lapidem Veram Medicinam” [Visit the interior of the earth, and by rectifying you will find the hidden stone which is the true medicine].
‘Golgoi Sarcophagus’, 475-450 BC. Discovered by tomb robbers in 1873 [MET]The Popess held open to us the book of lesser mysteries. Now it seems we’ve arrived at the gates of the greater mysteries, judging by the guardians:
At first in motion set those beauteous things; So were to me occasion of good hope, The variegated skin of that wild beast,
The hour of time, and the delicious season; But not so much, that did not give me fear A lion’s aspect which appeared to me.
He seemed as if against me he were coming With head uplifted, and with ravenous hunger, So that it seemed the air was afraid of him;
And a she-wolf, that with all hungerings Seemed to be laden in her meagreness, And many folk has caused to live forlorn!
~ Dante [ibid]
Dante running from the three Beasts, William Blake 1824-27
Throughout history, initiations have been performed in caves, or underground, in the belly of the Great Mother. We know that mystery initiates confronted the darker aspects of themselves during the simulated death experience that is essentially descent into the ‘unconscious’. Dante, who bridged classical/Pagan and Christian theologies, would have been no stranger to this idea. The three scary beasts he meets in the dark wood – a leopard-like creature, a lion and a she-wolf – are usually understood as fraud, violence and greed/incontinence, i.e., the very shadows of our three Virtues, whether personal or collective (the she-wolf, which frightened him most, is also thought to symbolize Rome).
The famed, Capitoline She-Wolf nursing Romulus and Remus, 5th c BC
What’s fascinating is how the TdM artist has merged the three, Dantean bardo-monsters into one creature. Wearing of a flayed skin easily subs for ‘fraud’ and Dante specifically refers to this creature by its ‘variegated skin.’ (Perhaps this mystery animal is otherwise occupied flaying Le Mat).
A fool may deceive by his dress and appearance, but his words will soon show what he really is.~ Aesop
As mentioned, both the Gorgoneion and Agathos Daimon (serpent/good spirit) had a powerful apotropaic function. Snakes were not considered evil by any means, they were the children of Mother Earth and protected her sacred places.
Shrine fresco showing offerings being made to the ‘good spirit.’ Pompeii, 1st c AD
Kom El Shoqafa, like other catacombs in Alexandria around this time, featured both Egyptian and Greco-Roman gods and rituals. When it came to the final journey, initiates agreed no ancestral Gods should be left out, regardless of anyone’s recent conversion. In a similar vein, travellers usually respected and made offerings to local gods – especially Hermes, in the form of a herm (where he gets his name) – for protection in foreign turf.
Whether or not the TdM artist(s) knew of such ancient catacombs where Egyptian, Greco-Roman and Christian religious imagery co-habitated peacefully, who knows (Kom El Shoqafa itself was only discovered in 1900), but they were certainly aware of the syncretization of the gods and had some grasp on how hieroglyphic imagery worked (on multi-levels), if not on the actual meanings of real hieroglyphs. And they surely would have been familiar with the likes of Leonardo da Vinci, a master at using a single, timeless image to tell more than one narrative, while leaving room for ambiguity.
‘An endeavour to concentrate in a single subject those various powers, which, rising from different points, naturally move in different directions’, was regarded by Sir Joshua Reynolds as unprofessional by a painter. ‘Art has its boundaries, though imagination has none.’ The expression of a ‘mixed passion’ was ‘not to be attempted’. But Renaissance artists rarely feared to attempt what the 18th century pronounced impossible. [Edgar Wind, ibid]
Hercules and the Hydra, 4th c, Catacomb of Via Latina, Rome
In the Christian Catacombs of Via Latina, we find this fabulous fresco of Hercules fighting a Medusa-esque Hydra, his second labour. Both figures are red, emphasizing the Martian life-blood-force, or force of nature, presumably being transferred to him from the monster. Fading into the background is the Nemean lion’s flayed skin (again resembling a bear), fruit of his first labour:
Because its golden fur was impervious to attack, it could not be killed with mortals’ weapons. Its claws were sharper than mortals’ swords and could cut through any strong armour. According to Apollodorus, he was the offspring of Typhon. In another tradition, told by Aelian (citing Epimenides) and Hyginus, the lion was “sprung from” the moon-goddess Selene, who threw him from the Moon at Hera’s request. [Wikipedia]
Hercules finally corners the lion in its own, dark cave, clubs it senseless, then strangles it with his bare hands. But after trying unsuccessfully to flay it with knife and stone, Athena finally has to intervene and tell him to use one of the lion’s own claws (those razor-like spikes in La Force’s hat?).
Aesop’s Ass in Lion’s Skin by Victor Wilbour, 1916 [Smithsonian]Athena will help him out again in his final labour, as will Hermes the psychopomp, for it involves making the ultra-perilous trip to Hades, to kidnap Cerberus the three-headed Hell-hound. For this, Hercules must first be initiated into the Eleusinian Mysteries and purified. He will essentially enter the intermediate state, traverse the realm of death and re-emerge again.
That the fresco depicts Hercules naked and full of regenerative, serpent fire suggests his protective function in the afterlife, as well as perhaps a belief in re-emergence (be it on earth or in heaven). In the myth, the hero only achieves god status at the end of his trials when, in mortal pain from a nasty balm (made from the poison side of Medusa’s bloodstream), he finally throws himself on a funeral pyre, ie., the transforming fire. At this point, Hera and Zeus both decide he’s had enough and place him up in the heavens. [This old post goes into it in more detail.] Thus, Herc had his own cult back in the day, worshipped as a divine protector of mankind.
Franchises Gafurius, Practica Musicae frontspiece, 1496
11 has also been called the ‘mute’ number (perhaps because it is ‘neuter’; odd but reduces to even). In the woodcut above, Apollo’s serpent, fitted with the ‘special Cerberus of Serapis’ head (lion flanked by dog and wolf, which was also a hieroglyphic allegory of Prudence) descends the spheres from heavenly Apollo to the silent, chthonic realm of Thalia, equated with the musical pause. One can’t help drawing a parallel to La Force, with her looped, serpentine hat above, bare foot firmly planted on the Earth, and, in the Conver card, the 9 sections in her cuffs. Also to Dante’s three beasts.
Gafurius, a good friend of Leonardo, owned a copy of Ficino’s translation of Plato’s works. Edgar Wind again:
Gafurius’s serpent is distinguished by a particularly engaging trait. While plunging head-downward into the universe, it curls the end of its tail into a loop on which Apollo ceremoniously sets his feet. A serpent’s tail turning back on itself is an image of eternity or perfection (commonly illustrated by a serpent biting its own tail, but known also in the form of a circular loop on the serpent’s back…). Gafurius thus makes it diagrammatically clear that Time issues from Eternity, that the linear progression of the serpent depends on its attachment to the topmost sphere where its tail coils into a circle. That the ‘descent’ of a spiritual force is compatible with its continuous presence in the ‘supercelestial heaven’ was a basic tenet of Neoplatonism. Plotinus illustrated this difficult doctrine, which was essential to his concept of emanation, by the descent of Hercules into Hades. Homer, he said, had admitted ‘that the image of Hercules appeared in Hades while the hero was really with the gods, so that the poet affirms this double proposition: that Hercules is with the gods while he is in Hades.’ Pico della Mirandola extended the argument to Christ’s descent into Limbo, in the most startling of his Conclusiones in theologia, no. 8, which it is not surprising to find among the articles that were condemned…
Interesting, then, that the very next card, #12 Le Pendu/The Hanged Man depicts exactly such a figure; a man with golden locks who appears to be hanging head down, in limbo and, when flipped, dancing with his head in the heavens. No wonder his face expresses not agony but ‘mind in continued suspense by presenting the paradox of an ‘inherent transcendence’.
Jacques Vieville 17th c, Nicolas Conver TdM 18th c
The theme of the older cards has evolved from an allegorical but obvious representation of Hercules in his first labour as lion-basher to a more cryptic one eluding to his final labour, initiation and transition. At this ‘still point’ in the game, TdM’s enigmatic strongwoman of the threshold demands that we leave – or sacrifice – our own singular preconceptions (and egos) at the gates and submit to a higher/deeper understanding, if we wish to follow suit. ~rb
Jupiter is back in Aries, until May 16. This masculine, fiery combo embodies the mythology of the solar hero (Aries) on a mission from God (Jupiter) or the ‘superhero’. The Sun’s exaltation is in Aries and the Sun is also the ‘son’.
John Singer Sargent, Hercules, 1921
Weapon-wielding, demi-god sons who saved humanity by wiping the floor with fabulous creatureswere abundant in the ancient world (or at least abundantly immortalized), as they are, today – but one in particular stands out from all the others, for he wears the solar lion’s skin and performs twelve labours, just as the Sun and Jupiter themselves stay a day and a year, consecutively, in each zodiacal house. Sing along if you are old enough…
“Hercules, hero of song and story! Hercules, winner of ancient glory! Fighting for the right, fighting with his might; With the strength of ten, ordinary men! Hercules, people are safe when near him! Hercules, only the evil fear him! Softness in his eyes, iron in his thighs; Virtue in his heart, fire in every part of The Mighty Hercules!”
I was dismayed to learn that the ‘real’ Hercules never had a magic ring, ripped abs and a quiff, or a centaur sidekick who’s favourite expression was “Suffering Psyche!” But my childhood TV cartoon got one thing right, ‘Herc’ was the modern, macho superhero prototype:
“Heracles – or Hercules as he has been more popularly known ever since the Roman times – was the greatest of all Greek heroes, “one who surpassed all men of whom memory from the beginning of time has brought down an account.” A half-god of superhuman strength and violent passions, Heracles was the epitome of bravery and masculinity in the ancient world and the most notable champion of the Olympian order, which he staunchly protected from various chthonic monsters and earthly villains. Even though his short temper and lack of composure did cause both him and quite a few innocent mortals undeserved trouble, the magnitude of his labors was of such an order that it earned him the prize of immortality… Heracles is undoubtedly one of the most iconic figures in all of Greek mythology.” [source]
Drunk Heracles “urinating” (in fact trying to get it up, for erroneous intent).
In the myth, Goddess Queen/evil stepmother Hera, angry that Zeus had sired him with another, who had the gall to name him ‘glory of Hera’, hated her step son and had marked him since birth. She sent two poisonous snakes (of course) to kill him in his cradle, but he strangled them with his bare, chubby little superbaby hands. Years later, grudge firm as ever, Hera served Heracles a potion to drive him temporarily insane and murder his own family. When the drugs wore off and he realized what he had done, remorseful Heracles sought spiritual advice from Apollo, who divined the gruelling tasks for his atonement. (Note that Apollo was a Sun god, who killed and usurped the Python). “In my defence, I was drunk and drugged!”
Delphic oracle with her tripod, Hellenist bell krater detail (British Museum)
The myth of Herc’s 10 labours was likely extended to 12 – which became the official number – because the day and the solar year were also divided into 12 sections (Roman year had formerly been 10 months, also), each through which the Sun himself was ‘guided’ by a lady of the hora, as he traversed the sky in his chariot. Every man of importance in the ancient world, political or religious, was depicted wearing a halo of the Sun’s rays – essentially what a golden crown is, made with the Sun’s metal. Alexander the Great, who self-identified with various mythic/solar heroes, including Heracles, was frequently depicted as Helios. Our image of the haloed Buddha (‘enlightened one’) also comes courtesy of the imported, Greco-Roman Sun God. Of course it wasn’t only reserved for men, they just tended to have a bit more power and a bit less humility.
[Side note: Though I’m not of the ‘there are really 13 signs!’ camp, it’s interesting that, in order to make things solar and mathematically ‘even’, the 13th constellation touching the ecliptic, associated with the serpent (and 13 being lunar) had to be left out. We now know our Sun is itself serpentine in nature, it ‘sheds’ its skin via coronial mass ejections (CMEs).]
Gilt roundel with Alexander as Helios, 4th c BC
“All the seven planets have opened their gates.” – Goethe
Whilst reading up on Heracles and the horae, I took a rabbit hole into horary astrology. Turns out that on the first day of the first month of 2023, the first hour belongs to the Sun, as does the day (Sunday), meaning the entire year is going to be under solar influence. The Sun card comes up (19 reduces to 1), as does the Chariot, being that it’s a universal 7 year ( 2+0+2+3). The actual picture of the solar demi-god in his vehicle!
The 7th house cusp of the zodiac, opposite to the natal horizon or ascendant, is where the Sun-self begins its descent and marks the beginning of knowing thyself through others (Libra), which is a different kind of awakening.
Vieville Tarot Sun and Charioteer, looking rather Alexander-ish
Unlike Heracles, the Charioteer, previously initiated as a Lover (6, which some do see as ‘Hercules at the crossroads’, choosing between Vice and Virtue), is now tasked with keeping the solar and lunar sides of his own nature in Balance (8).
The fiery energy of Jupiter/Aries is boundless, until Saturn enters Pisces, March 7 and tempers the flame. Saturn specializes in labours and (karmic) atonement, and it’s entering the 12th sign, traditionally ruled by Jupiter. At best, Saturn/Pisces directs Jupiterian inspiration, so as to give form to visions and dreams, testing their weight and our faith, every step of the way. Are we just being given our tasks or is this the final push? Maybe both? (I have Saturn and Jupiter returns coming up this year, will let you know…).
There are 7 cycles of 3 (plus the Fool) in the Major Arcana, so each 4th card is also a new 1. So the Chariot, as the first card of the third triad,is also a1placement. All ‘1‘ placement cards have to do with the theme of change/transition/death/rebirth: 1–Magician, 4-Emperor, 7-Chariot, 10-Wheel, 13-Unnamed, 16-Tower, 19-Sun.
Being the number of traditional planets/planetary spheres, 7has long held sacred significance as a microcosm, by which the weeks and solar years are divided.
Amulets found in Turkish excavation, dated from 7th-4th c BC
Horary astrology is also tied in with magic (using the energy of the planet at the appropriate time and/or creating talismans for positive outcome or amulets for protection). Before Solstice, I made some planet-themed bracelets. I hadn’t checked the planet hours at their creation, but when the Mars one proved conductive, I wondered whether I’d made it during a Mars hour or on a Tuesday. It remains to be seen whether Sun-ruled hours/days this year will have extra potency, but I intend to find out! In astrology, the Sun is generally seen as a bringer of happiness, unless terribly aspected. Similarly, we feel hope when the Sun shines, except during a drought or heat dome.
“Symbols are to the mind what tools are to the hand–
an extended application of its powers.”– Dion Fortune
To me, the Chariot card is emblematic of Tarot itself and of magic; forces within and without in accordance, the meeting of above and below, the completion of the first 7 steps.
Blue Saharan Sphinx wood icon by Roxanna Bikadoroff
Sphinxes, such as those who ‘pull’ the triumphal Chariot in some decks, were guardians of mysteries and the dead. As human-lion anthropomorphs, they are also symbolic of Aquarius/Leo (or, previously, Leo/Aquarius). We might view the pelt-clad Heracles as an initiate, a man not yet integrated with the solar lion in the spiritual sense. (He did actually become an initiate of the mysteries, but only in order to capture Cerberus). He is still an accursed bête, wearing the old skin but not yet the golden crown of the solar lion (the Nemean lion he flayed represents the constellation of Leo).
Of the Aquarius Age, astrologer Alan Oken, in the 1970s wrote,
“In spite of the utopian visions which this writer shared with millions of his peers in the 1960s, the Age of Aquarius will not be dominated by a suddenly transcended, spiritually oriented, love-sharing world population. Mankind has yet to work out the natural animal aggression which is so much a part of his nature…”
He goes on to say that (as we are seeing) the Aquarian Age will be dominated by ideological conflicts and, because of the energies available and potential for evolutionary advancement, self-awareness is a priority for people of the Aquarian Age if we are to properly channel these energies – physical and metaphysical – for the benefit of all.
Heracles, in burning agony, throws himself on the fire
In the end, after a kind of alchemical trial by pyre, brought about by a toxic balm his second wife inadvertently procured from a centaur (Sagittarius, the centaur sign ruled by Jupiter, is the transforming fire of the zodiacal triplicity), Hera and Zeus both agreed he’d suffered enough, and Herc was placed in the sky, as the constellation formerly identified with Gilgamesh. “Victory is here, raise a mighty cheer!”
Final thoughts…
As we ‘permanently’ enter the rational, masculine, high-tech age of the Titans (fixed air Aquarius, that is), with Pluto making its first ingress into this sign March 23, it’s important to keep sight of our higher Aquarius/Leo nature. The Sun is just one star in the heavens, but it represents the creative here and now, the full potential and expression (Leo) of our present lifetime. Meanwhile, Aquarius, sign of the starry heavens (hence astrology/astronomy), can open our minds to the distant past and future. Imagination is our personal conjuring tool. Through our art, wonder and creativity we are connected to the cosmos and the gods of our higher consciousness. In sync with these, there is no need for domination or force.
