Horapollo and the Hieroglyphic Mysteries of Tarot de Marseille


It is a tradition in esoteric history that whenever a new culture is embryonic in the womb of an older one, or when an esoteric school recognizes that a culture has served it’s purposes and is coming to an end, then a major work of art is created in dedication, as an outer sign for future ages. The work of art may be a remarkable piece of music, a poem, a garden or a building — but whatever its external artistic form, it encapsulates, in entirely esoteric principals, a summary of what has gone before, and what is to come. All great esoteric artists from Dante to Shakespeare, from Milton to Blake, have recognized this primal function of their art. The interesting thing is that all too often it is the exoteric aspects of their products which attract attention of those who follow, and the esoteric contents remain hidden, save perhaps for the seeing few, who are themselves alive to the esoteric background to human history.

– Fred Gettings, The Secret Zodiac

Marcus Zuerius Boxhorn, Emblemata, 1635

At the height of Renaissance in the 15th century, a fresh, Humanistic view of the world was flourishing. Scholarly and creative minds, it seems, had been opened through a revised symbolic and syncretic way of thinking. Revised, because a pre-existing, Medieval tradition of visuals serving as a window to higher concepts was already well-established, as were heraldic devices and emblems, but a big part of the collective re-awakening came by way of a new, parabolic language in the arts, born or copied from an older one shrouded in mystery. Renaissance literally means rebirth. But who and what was being reborn? A civilization, perhaps, that had planned for just such an everlasting afterlife?

[please click images to enlarge and read]

In Italy, especially in Florence, there was great interest in learning from the distant past. Greco-Roman revivalism in poetry and philosophy, art and architecture thrived, as the nobles competed for legacy and church fathers, for a time, actively encouraged and commissioned works. Pagan gods and goddesses frequently appeared alongside Christian ones, albeit not as subjects of worship (except for Isis, under guise as the Virgin). Ex-pats had returned from exile with personal libraries including medical, alchemical and astronomical manuscripts from the Middle East. Arthurian legends of courtly love from England and France were extremely popular. The printing press now meant more people could have access to literature – although nobles considered printed works to be gauche and still preferred to commission hand-crafted books. Among these, of course,  was the first, Latin translation of The Corpus Hermeticum. The ‘alchemization’ of Europe had begun.


(More here. Pre-Conver Emperors do not show the Basilisk throne).

Egyptian artifacts, housed in Italy since Roman times, were a major part of this resurgence in all things ancient, esoteric and therefor exemplary. (To give you an idea, Pope Alexander VI aka Rodrigo Borgia even had his genealogy ‘traced’ back to Osiris thus establishing a link between the Egyptian gods and the church). Renaissance Humanists, fascinated by hieroglyphs, began a race to unlock them that would continue for the next 3 centuries. One main source of reference was a manuscript called ‘The Hieroglyphics of Horapollo Nilous.’ Horapollo (Horus Apollo) was a 5th century Egyptian scribe and one of the last remaining priests of Isis, who had also made a partially successful effort at decipherment (hieroglyphs were already thousands of years old, by his time). A translation of his work had turned up in Florence, in 1422 and was first printed in 1505. Another, slightly later reference source was the ‘Mensa Isiaca‘ or Table of Isis, which Athanasius Kircher in particular took as a model.

Egyptian winged Uraeus and Hieroglyphica by Valeriani, 1556

‘Hieroglyphica’, as it became known, inspired a tidal wave of emblematic art (‘emblemata’), as neo-Platonists and others sought to emulate these cryptic little pictures, resulting in an imaginative, western European hybrid. Hermetic and alchemical artists would employ this method of concealed meaning ‘for initiates only’ (namely, other hermeticists/alchemists).

This genre of the symbolic rereading of the hieroglyphs – “enigmatic hieroglyphs” as Rigoni and Zanco (1996) call them – was very popular in the late Hellenistic period. It should not surprise us, then, that so many Renaissance Humanists – for whom this was all quite familiar through Lucan, Apuleius, Plutarch, Clement of Alexandria and, especially, Ennead V by Plotinus – should see in the Hieroglyphica a genuine connection with the highest sphere of wisdom.

– Studiolum 

Other antiquities being scoured for emblematic images were things like Roman coins, medallions and gem charms, which the ruling class loved to collect. Roman carved gems in particular were highly sought after, and became family heirlooms, often set in jewelry [see ‘Death and the Moon’ post].

It was out of this tradition that Tarot de Marseille emerged, presumably in Italy, during the mid 16th century. [No known prior examples of the classic TdM format exist and the oldest known example of a triumph is a single, World card – the oldest complete decks known are 17th century.] Its images are not just allegorical, but ‘hieroglyphic’ in nature – though obviously not actual Egyptian hieroglyphs. The apparent (I would even say obvious) application of Horapollo’s descriptions alone leaves little doubt, though, that they were purposefully designed with visual clues that provided a context for imbedded messages. What that purpose was and why playing cards, we can’t know for certain, but as Counter-Reformation loomed on the horizon, maybe it was time to encapsulate esoteric principals for future ages?

I will dive more deeply into some of the ‘glyphs in the other cards (not included herein), in upcoming blogposts, but wanted to provide this overview, first.

Stay tuned! ~rb

Wee sphinx from Minchiate Tarot, 18th c

All written content herein except quotations is COPYRIGHT ©ROXANNA BIKADOROFF and may not be reused in full anywhere without permission. Please share via LINK only (with short, credited pull-quote, if needed).

QUOTATIONS:
~ Fred Gettings opener from ‘The Secret Zodiac – The Hidden Art in Mediaeval Astrology’ [Routeledge & Kegan Paul, 1987]
~ ‘Enigmatic hieroglyphics’ quote from studiolum.com
~ Horapollo text translations (Alexander T. Cory, 1840) from
sacred texts.com

REFS/OTHER LINKS:
~ The Egyptian Renaissance – The Afterlife of Ancient Egypt in Early Modern Italy, Brian Curran, Penn State University (pdf)
~ Hieroglyphs and Meaning, Lucia Morra, Carla Bazzanella (pdf)
~ Pinturicchio’s Frescoes in the Sala dei Santi in the Vatican Palace, Roger Gill, Birmingham City University (pdf)
~ The Art of Small Things by John Mack [Harvard University Press]
~ Horapollo Hieroglyphica via Jason Colavito
~ Giovanni Pierio VALERIANO BOLZANI Hieroglyphica, Google Books

The Hermit – Shedding a Little Light on the Situation

[Originally posted April 17, 2023, now re-posted with some Mercury retrograde addendums and edits. Enjoy!]

In 15th century Renaissance Tarot decks, this allegorical figure was called ‘Time’ and his device was an hour glass. Later, with a few exceptions, it was replaced by a lamp, changing the meaning somewhat. Instead of being a Saturnine symbol of old age reminding us of the passing of our mortal existence, he became more of a monk-sage, holding up a guiding light for seekers. But as we shall see, the two are not so different.

Visconti-Sforza Time

In this well-known Visconti-Sforza card, Father Time holds the hourglass and wears the deep blue of Lapis, i.e, wisdom/the philosopher’s stone (Lapis simply means ‘stone’). This he will wear into future Tarot decks, it is his trademark. On his head, a dome-shaped turban with rings. Until the 18th century, Saturn was known as the outermost planet, whose orbit encircled those of all the other planets’. It was the last stop. The average person was fortunate to experience one or even two Saturn returns in a lifetime. (The super-power of survival, however,  is a common gift to those born  under his rulership).

His colours are probably indicative of ‘the work’. Inside its holder, the hourglass is black and white (I inquired – it is not tarnished silver, but black paint). Likely this means the white inside it is salt. The tria prima of philosophical alchemy are as follows:
– SALT representing the body, which is material (in hourglass, also his white gloves, socks, hair)
– SULPHUR representing the soul, which is fiery (hat colours, also his lining or undergarment, boots)
– MERCURY representing the spirit, which is watery (blue cloak)
The green grass is symbolic of renewal/rebirth, nature, and is perhaps also an alchemical reference, which the Hanged Man card of this deck picks up on.
The planets are the ‘above’ to alchemy’s ‘below’, the metals, but spiritual (or philosophical) alchemy is about the transmutation of the soul.

Saturn, from Lazzarelli’s De Gentilium Deorum Imaginibus, ca 1470

The ‘So-Called Mantegna’ prints, an Italian Renaissance relation, though not actual cards, were a little more esoteric. Above is a page from a book by Ludovico Lazzarelli, which beautifully replicates the prints, in colour, with fancy borders. While still nothing typically Hermit-like about him, other than his shabby cloak, Saturn  is doing the most allegorical thing possible to show the passing of time – eating his offspring, in order that he might reign eternal and avoid succession. (This was actually what kept patriarchs awake at night,  in olden days). The serpent or dragon biting its tail is one of the oldest alchemical symbols, representing mercury and the work itself; ‘my end is my beginning’.

Seated in a line, as if to complete a (second) scythe shape, are four of his children, a fifth one is about to be devoured. The sixth, Zeus-Jupiter has been hidden away by his mother, Rhea, and will later return to  succeed his Titan Father, beginning a new era of Olympian rule and providing an endless supply of mythology for generations to come. That cherub on the right holding a golden  ‘O’ (mirror or empty picture frame) for ‘Olympus’ might be him, preparing his new place in the line. The babe at its father’s lips must be Vesta, who was born/eaten first (and coughed up last). In fact, at one time, first-borns were given to the Gods, in sacrifice, that was their honour.  Again, the theme of age, elders, death. Note the mysterious (funerary?) urns which match the four, seated babes – Juno, Pluto, Neptune and Ceres. Missing is Vesta’s urn…are we to presume that Saturn himself is the container for her? Attached to the two brothers’ urns is a wreath, signifying completion, while new growth emerges from the sisters’ taller urns.

Rare Vesta in human form, Pompeii, 1st c, note she also holds a coiled serpent
Vesta or Vestal, lifting her lamp

In Ancient Rome, Vesta (Greek Hestia) was Goddess of the hearth, eternal flame of the city. Vestal Virgins enjoyed much privilege…as long as they kept their vow of chastity and never let the eternal flame go out.  Punishment for either was severe, usually being sealed up or buried alive. Extreme Saturn. The fate of Rome itself depended, it was believed, on that fire being kept alive. Similarly, and prior to this, in each Roman home, women had to ensure their home hearths didn’t go out, lest the ancestors and living family should suffer calamity.

Europa, Ripa 1603 and TdM style Hermite, 18th c (?)
Lamp-lifting Hermits: Old one from Lyon, Dodal Tarot de Marseille mid-17th c, Grumppenberg ca 1807-1816 (note the copulating snakes suggesting Tiresias).

Am likely not alone in seeing the Hermit’s lamp as being temple-shaped. It was indeed Vesta’s temples that were circular and domed, to replicate the dome of the sky over the earth. Just as Vesta’s flame represented eternal life, the little light in the Hermit’s temple-shaped lantern must also be symbolic of the eternal existence of spirit. 9 is indicative of (human) gestation…a most mysterious alchemical process.

Roman coin, silver, 55 BC

Returning to the Visconti-Sforza card, we find that the leap from being an allegory of Time to the christianized (?), hermetic Hermit of TdM is really just a small step. His hourglass is encased in a tri-sectioned (Hermes-Mercury), lantern/temple-shaped holder, and the black outline of the hourglass is shaped very much like two, entwined snakes. The TdM card simplifies it into a tri-sectioned lantern and calls him l’Ermite or l’Hermite, as an added clue (both old and new French were used, depending on when/where the cards were printed, meaning doesn’t change). Time is not simply about counting hours, but is essential to the great work that is our development of spiritual wisdom over the course of a lifetime. This ultimately (hopefully) prepares us for our transition from bodily form to spirit. The blue cloak takes up most of the V-S figure, while the white areas of salt and body are comparatively small.

V-S card detail

By now I hope you can see the connection between Saturn, representative of constricted time, lead and bodily age, and Vesta, embodiment of the vital, ever transformative life force energy – that which is eternal, whether you interpret it as Earth-fire, the Sun (by which her sacred fire was lit for the Olympic Games) or Holy Spirit. The Hermit holds up this little, temple light not as literal Vesta, but to evoke what her temple and fire signifies. Number 9 will in fact re-emerge or be reborn, in the Sun card, number 19, after a process of being ‘tortured’ (alchemically speaking) through the next 9 cards. In astrology, too,  the 9th sign, following the trials of Scorpio, is Sagittarius (aka the Sage) – mutable, transforming flame of the fire triplicity. Keep this light burning within you at all times, never let it be snuffed out. If it is, well, fortunately Vesta is also the sacred, phallic fire stick (brother Jupiter to the rescue!), with which she rekindles herself. This was inserted into a hollow piece of wood and “rotated in a phallic manner” to light her flame, ahem.

Time/Hermit, Bologna Leonne 1776 and Horologion (time keeping) Tower, Athens

Segue and full circle… I had mentioned device exceptions. This Time/Hermit figure above has both a (phallic?) column – probably a sundial, ironically – and wings on his back. It is usually interpreted as the fleeting of time but another way to see it is buoyant spirit (wings) readying to leave the heaviness of this mortal coil or simply not being affected by it. Perhaps the same sort of idea as the Tower card, a release from bondage or prison. Sometimes the elderly do begin to look angelic. Or maybe it’s just the signature of our old friend, Hermes-Mercury, the winged wonder.

The Sanskrit word for temple (I recently learned), mandir, is a combination of mana, meaning ‘inner self’ and dir, meaning ‘a place’, ie, a ‘place where the inner self lives’. I can think of no better description for The Hermit.
Tarot images are cryptic, it’s not ‘this = that’, but rather, ‘this resembles that, I wonder if there might be a reason…’

Saturn and Vesta sitting in a forest, The Allegro & Il Penseroso of Milton, 1848 [BM]


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Secrets of the Emperor’s Chicken

Jodorowsky-Camoin Emperor

There is a curious detail in the Marseille Emperor’s throne, which always reminded me of a goofy-looking bird, a bit like the Roadrunner cartoon. Merely an accident of design…or is  it? Jodo refers only to the eye-like, circular shape, as symbolic of ‘alchemical gold.’ He and Camoin also insist there was an egg (under eagle’s tail) in the Conver card, which they ‘restored,’ a topic of much debate in Tarot circles.

detail in 3 versions of the Conver Emperor

Details in Tarot imagery are known to get muddled or omitted, so it’s necessary to look at as many variations as possible, to try and put a picture together. Often it’s nothing, sometimes it’s something. In this case, it was the latter.

In the two versions below, you’d be forgiven for thinking the bird head on the back of the Emperor’s throne was just another eagle, being the imperial bird (and in the first card, it appears to be), except for a couple of other clues; in the 2nd card, the arm of the throne is clearly ‘feathered’ like a rooster’s tail. Also there is the fact that the brim of the Emperor’s helmet-crown is almost without exception consistent in its red colouring.

18th c Emperors (Solothurn and Benois)

We could also make the connection to the alchemical basilisk, which symbolized the destructive fire preceding the transmutation of metals, as well as having the ability to kill with a glance, like Medusa (hence situated behind the Emperor, his shadow nature or hidden super-power). And, of course, the presence of Mercurius, the transmuter.

Basilisk in 12th c archway

Now, the next question is, why? Why, when chickens are a medieval symbol of cowardice and avarice, and when the rooster in particular belongs to Mercury or Mars, would anyone associate the noble Emperor with poultry? Isn’t the Emperor an avatar of Jupiter??

Actually, Emperors and Gallus gallus go a long way back. No ancient Roman Emperor was without an assembly of sacred fowl. You see, in olden days, chickens were not bred for frying, but for fighting and alectryomancy, a form of augury. Chickens were used to predict the outcome of battles and, yup, who the next Emperor would be. We can see the military aspect of our Tarot Emperor, though he be seated in repose.

Etruscan buccher 630-20 BC and German Rooster helmet c 1530 (MET Museum, NY)

Alright, so what does the regal rooster have to do with de Zeus, if anything?
This is where it gets a bit esoteric, because TdM imagery is never this = that. We can find associations in the Emperor card to Jupiter (imperial eagle on his shield, sometimes a thunderbolt in his sceptre, bearded), Mars and Mercury (rooster, as mentioned), as well as the Sun (rooster, medieval 4th sphere, wears a radiate crown over his helmet), but what about Pluto? Pluto/Hades was, after all, an aspect of the Jupiterian triplicity, one of the ‘bros’.

While the other, major Greco-Roman gods were always busy doing – Mars at battle or cavorting with Venus, Mercury flying all over the place, Jupiter running Olympus between mythic, erm, conquests – it seems Pluto’s one, big event was the ‘abduction’ of his young bride, Persephone/Proserpine. After that, the god of subterranean riches pretty much just sits there on his Underworld throne or lies in repose at banquets for the newly-dead, right?

engraving by Wenzel Holler (detail) 1600, Francesco Berti Bologna Emperor  17th c

This is likely due to the abduction myth being a relatively late injection; Persephone had long presided in the underworld as part of a Goddess triplicity (with Demeter and Hekate), before the patriarchal gods usurped:

“There is an archaic role for Persephone as the dread queen of the Underworld, whose very name it was forbidden to speak. In the Odyssey, commonly dated circa 800 to 600 BCE, when Odysseus goes to the Underworld, he refers to her as the Iron Queen. Her central myth, for all its emotional familiarity, was also the tacit context of the secret initiatory mystery rites of regeneration at Eleusis, which promised immortality to their awe-struck participants—an immortality in her world beneath the soil, feasting with the heroes who dined beneath her dread gaze.”

Note the ‘dread gaze’ reference, again.

Persephone and Hades/Pluto Enthroned, 500-450 BC, Greek (Cleveland Museum of Art)

As it turns out, Hades/Pluto and Dionysus may have been one and the same (or syncretized). In this beautiful relief, we see that the cock and hen are familiars of Persephone and her consort, representing Springtime regeneration (and eggs!), when she emerges from the Earth to make it fecund, again. The ear of grain/wheat is another of her attributes (indeed she was the grain itself), and we see that the TdM Emperor wears a necklace (circle) of golden grain, just like Pluto/Dionysus wears on his head.

Going back to the subject of my previous post, every 4th card is also the 1st card of the next cycle of 3, the Empress being the first 3. Like Persephone, she embodies the cyclic, creative triplicity. The Emperor, in 4th place, represents the ‘death’ of the first cycle as well as the beginning of the next. Similarly, Winter is the 4th season, when the forces of life go underground.

Conver Empress and Emperor (BnF)

The aging Emperor is typically shown in profile, facing the Empress/past and with his back to the next cards/future (if they were laid out in numerical order). He will not go further in his current form, but holding his sceptre erect, looks to his lady for renewal, while she, in turn, holds her sceptre to her womb.

Addendum: Hermes-Mercury’s travels famously included being a psychopomp, being the only god who had licence to travel back and forth between realms. So don’t worry, this is not to discount the rooster/chicken as possible presence of Mercury,  significator of transition, alchemical, numerical or otherwise. Rather it is to draw attention to the Plutonian nature of the Emperor. Hermes-Mercury is present in every Major Arcana card of the TdM (more on that some other post). Interestingly, modern ‘evolutionary’ astrology sees planetary Pluto as having to do with both death and transformation. ~rb

“Hey hon, think I’m ovulating…”


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Tarot and Number

This is a brief, beginner post about the numerical cycles and number relationships in traditional/classic Tarot de Marseille (TdM). [Please note I am not going to be talking about the western Kabbalah that is incorporated into Waite-Smith Tarot.]

Pythagoras the philosopher and mathematician

I started out studying ‘western’ or ‘Pythagorean’ numerology in relation to Tarot, just as my early Tarot teachers did, consuming books that described the qualities numbers until I knew them as entities. In this tradition, numbers are reduced to a single digit, except master numbers 11, 22 and 33 (albeit we don’t go to 33 in Tarot), and viewed in terms of human personality traits. One of my teachers, Angeles Arrien, would have us figure out our life path card and card for the year, based on our birthdate. It can be insightful but also limiting. I’ve had to unlearn a few things…

Ideally, one should study the literature, then forget about it. Too much rigid this=that can actually hinder your inner understanding of the cards. Remember they are mnemonic devices, so let the image demonstrate how it illustrates the number, rather than trying to apply concepts to the image and make it fit. Play with the numbers, think also about the geometry generated by the number (3= triangle, 4=square, 5 = pentagram etc).

Note that the cards use Roman numerals, though they seem to illustrate Arabic numerical ‘concepts’ . For example The Hermit, VIIII, resonates with 9, the spiralling number that always returns to itself…as it is with people who have a 9 life path, according to numerology. 4 looks so much like the symbol for Jupiter, that the Emperor is often equated with him, though in reality the Jupiter symbol is not the same as a 4.

hermit tarot card illustrating the concept of number nine

Look at the multiples and different combinations…
For example, Empress (3), Hanged Man (1+2) and World (2+1). What is going on in this triplicity that stems from the Empress?
What minor arcana cards resonate with major arcana  cards of the same numerical value? In what suit does the 5 resonate best with the Pope card?  Which 7 with the Chariot?

The visual manifestation of the individual number is only one aspect, but the cards are not really independent of one another. They have various partners and opposites, higher and lower ‘octaves’, etc, their relationships to each other helps to define them, just as it is in life. Keep in mind the Roman numerals, too, so that XV (Devil) is the ‘higher octave’ or other face of V (Pope), not XVI (Lover), as it would be if we employed Arabic numerals (1+5 reduces to 6).

A simple example is that the numbered cards (in TdM the Fool is not numbered) contain 7 cycles of 3 (like a waltz), wherein every next ‘1’ card is also a ‘4’ (the death and rebirth of the cycle).
To Pythagoreans (and later, in alchemy, to Maria the Prophetess), this natural cycle of 4 = 1 symbolized the fundamental progression of creation:

‘One becomes Two, Two becomes Three,
and out of the Third comes the One as the Fourth.’

One – being the primordial source (monad) from which everything originates
Two – (considered the first ‘real’ number) being the duality that emerges from separation
Three – being the completion of a creation, whereby the two are united
Four – being the final stage, wherein unity is restored, but in a differentiated way

10, being the sum of 1+2+3+4 was thus considered the ‘perfect’ number, as illustrated by the tetractys. (In Pythagoras’ day, numbers were depicted with geometrically arranged dots, resembling pebbles).

So, the Empress completes the first creative cycle of 1-2-3, but the 4th card, her partner, the Emperor, signifies the ‘death’ of that cycle, AND the birth of the next. You will find that all the cards in the ‘1/4’ placement have something in common, as will all the cards in the ‘2’ placement and the ‘3’ placement.
21/The World, while being a ‘3’ placement card, illustrates wholeness and completion or ‘quintessence’; the unified ‘one’ (androgyne) at the centre of four (elements, fixed stars, seasons, etc).
With the understanding of this basic, universal foundation, we can build everything else. ~rb

empress and emperor cards of Jaques vidvill tarot

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Mercury – I Come in Three!

Mercury

We are in Mercury retrograde at the moment, so what better time for a blogpost about everybody’s favourite psychopomp and magic number?

Early on, Hermes’ sacred number was 4, being god of the crossroads, which was where his  herma were placed.  These were originally piles of stones, to indicate the border of someone’s tribal land. Gradually they became erect stones,  often with a cross shape (probably for hanging garlands), and a head and apotropaic phallus was added. No matter who travelled there, friend or foe, offerings were made to ensure safe passage of the foreign turf. Perhaps it is related to the practice of marking graves with stones, too, since the dead were buried outside the boundary, for safety reasons. “And stay out!”
Herma for other gods existed, but the name of course relates to Hermes himself. Bust sculptures are probably a continuation of this tradition.

Herma 520 BC

But when we are speaking of Hermes-Mercury as a planetary/astrological  god, 3 is the number by which he operates. Think of retrogradation – common to all planets, but ultimately under his jurisdiction. It’s a triple, illusory move (forward-backward-forward) and, in Mercury’s case, occurs 3 times per year, for about 3 weeks, 3 times in the same element. Even in the most astrologically uninformed circles and media, the ‘Mercury Retrograde’ is reknown, if for all the wrong reasons.

How most people view Mercury retrogrades

Since Mercury can never be more than 28 degrees from the Sun, there are but three Mercury placements a Sun sign can have; in the preceding sign, in the same sign, or in one the proceeding it. For example, Taurus can only have Mercury in Aries, Taurus or Gemini. The Mercury placement will inform the Sun native’s expression and how they process information. Is it possible Mercury in these 3, consecutive signs might have a resonance with the phases of retrogradation? Might Mercury preside over midpoints, as well (particularly, one would assume, the Sun-Moon midpoint)? Questions to ponder during retrograde.

When it comes to uniting solar and lunar opposite natures, the realms of living and dead, awakeness and dreaming, the above and below, the within and without, Mercury is the cosmic connector. We see this in traditional Tarot de Marseille, a ‘Hermetic’ Tarot wherein duality and the balance of opposites is a running theme, as is triplicity and quadruplicity.
In alchemy there are three forms of Mercury; vulgar, volatile and philosophical.

Doubles in Noblet Tarot Pape, Pendu, Soleil ca 1650

Mercury’s sigil also has three parts: the cross of matter (or crossroads) surmounted by a solar circle and lunar crescent. And of course, he rules  Gemini, sign of the Twins. Perhaps the Virgo rulership might be better understood if we remember the dual nature of the Goddess – those two serpents originally belonged to her, after all. Where Gemini is happy to  be two people, Virgo works tirelessly to create wholeness. She is very much like the angel of Temperance, is she not? This card from the Vieville deck could be Virgo with the Mercurial caduceus.

Vieville Temperance card, mid 17th c

Might we also  find a connection between the 6th house (Virgo’s traditional lodgings) and TdM 6th arcanum, wherein a young man stands between two women? It’s interpreted as having to decide between vice and virtue, like Hercules at the crossroads, but I think ‘crossroads’ might be the key word here. That 7th house cusp is the dividing line, after all. Some other blogpost!

Osiris attended by sisters Nephthys (death) and Isis (life), Conver TdM Lover, 18th c

 

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Lonely at the Top – Sun or planets in the 10th House

 

‘Most Young Kings Get Their Heads Cut Off’ Jean-Michel Basquiat

Do you have a tenth house Sun placement? How about other planets?
How does this express itself for you?

If a person has a goal and is determined to achieve it, a 10th house placement can work well for them…but if they don’t, they may feel they haven’t achieved enough or have, consciously or not, set standards for themselves they can’t possibly live up to. They may imagine a harder landing, should they fail or fall from grace. This is, after all, the house allotted to Capricorn and its Saturn rulership, traditionally the house of the ‘father,’ and in olden times, ‘the king’. [Some see it in reverse, that it’s the house of the ‘mother’ and the 4th (Moon/Cancer) is the father, although I haven’t personally found this to work as well. Let’s call it even and say this is the polarity of the parents, either of which can be dominant in our psyche.]

The cusp of the 10th, the midheaven, is where we find ourselves looking down from the top of the mountain peak at what we’ve experienced up to this point (often at mid-life) and either saying, ‘wow, I’ve been through a lot, learned a lot, made a lot of money or become a better/more mature person as a result’, or, ‘I’ve done all this stuff, had all these different careers that haven’t amounted to anything and life ain’t getting any shorter,’ depending on whether the cup is seen as half full or half empty. Even the term ‘a-mounted to’ is very Capricorn mountain goat language!

Visconti-Sforza Tarot Wheel of Fortune/Rota Fortunae

But the tenth house has another secret. In Tarot, 10 is the Wheel of Fortune, which is based on the zodiac wheel. We see one character going up, another sitting pretty at the midheaven, another going down, and another at the bottom, at all the angles. A metaphor for life’s ups and downs, successes and failures, but also of time cycles and of the houses themselves, which are angular, succedent, or cadent. In the Tarot card above, the figures are saying, “I reign, I reigned, my reign is finished, I shall reign.”

Roue de Fortune, Tarot de Marseille

The angular houses are strongest, cadent (fallen away from the angular placement) are weakest, and succedent (next in line to the angular position) enjoy the hope of success/succession. [This is perhaps easiest to comprehend when using the equal house system, which evenly divides the wheel into 12 pie slices, one for each sign, beginning with one’s rising sign/degree, but personally I don’t use equal house.]
Technically speaking,  the house moves into the position of the house that was formerly in that position, not the sign or planets, i.e., transiting Mars will be in Gemini at a certain degree all day, but in a different house every hour. The houses, though paired with particular signs/planets and spoken of as a conglomerate, are actually separate entities.

Angular, succedent and cadent houses

The 11th house of ‘hopes, dreams, wishes, groups’ (allotted to Aquarius/Saturn and Uranus) is where we can perhaps look for help with our 10th house issues. You will notice the succedent houses are all ‘fixed’ sign placements. Thus they have a certain steadfastness, while the angular (cardinal), though strongest in terms of influence, have that built in ‘fear of falling’, just like anyone in a position of power might. Caution: some viziers make better allies than others.

And although cadent (mutable) houses tend to be shoved aside, as if nothing much happens herein, there can be a certain freedom from expectation in these houses that may also be utilized (true, Virgo seems the exception, but will often find freedom in under-the-radar, detailed tasks such as organizing files). The 0 in 10 is, after all, associated with the Fool, who creates his path as he goes along, unattached to outcome. He was the only medieval court member who could openly roast the king, thus reminding the monarch we all fall down, and 10th house achievers that the journey is really what it’s all about, ‘on arrive jamais‘. Sagittarius is allotted to 9th house as jester, highest card in the deck, with none of the responsibilities of a king, yet somehow lucky enough to have Jupiter as its ruler. Hmm. Faith?
Caution: Some fools may be a tad nihilistic and reckless.

Charles VI Tarot Fool

Further proof of this ‘power of three’ lies in the fact that every grand trine is composed of an angular, succedent and cadent house of the same element. Being ‘all for one and one for all’, grand trine energy can flow so easily and fast as to not even notice it’s happening.

So if your Sun or other lofty 10th house planets are feeling alone at the top or afraid of falling, look to either side of them, at your 11th (succedent/fixed) house vizier and 9th (cadent/mutable) house fool for a different perspective from planets therein or friends/people with their sun in these signs, who can ‘act as’ planets. Keep in mind that the 10th house planet/sign is still the one ultimately in charge and can make things happen, it just needs support, sometimes – is it being supported or sabotaged? This goes for all the angular houses, but especially the 10th.

Gemini is cadent to Cancer, Aquarius succedent to Capricorn, two angular signs.

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Saturn is Coming to Pisces

Madonna of Mercy with Kneeling Friars, 1424, Fra Angelico

Saturn in Pisces (March 7, in a 7 year)  will mean different things to different people. Depending on where our illusions lie and our willingness to wake in or from the dream, Saturn can feel either harsh or liberating. Saturn is actually a liberator, though not often seen in this light. (Hence, its exaltation sign is Libra).
Sometimes it’s as simple as recognizing whether a dream is really worth the time anymore and/or if we’re ready to do the work to make it real. Other times, especially in Pisces, we have to go a bit deeper into our psyche.

One thing about Saturn in Pisces that has been resonating with me lately (and a constant, life challenge with this being my Saturn placement), is how it can give authoritative voice to those self-sabotaging mantras Pisces is so good at creating. Often these do originate with some authority figure, like a parent, school teacher or even early religious teachings. There may be ‘aha’ moments in life where we realize they were a) not true/except to the person who said it b) useful in order to grow by rebelling against them. [Sir Christopher Lee, Saturn on the ascendant, said the more discouragement he got – first from his mother, then people in the biz who said he was too tall, not British-looking enough, etc. – the more determined it made him to succeed in acting, and, that his epitaph should read ‘I showed them!’]

Or perhaps it’s more subtle…a 12th house type garbage dump of collected mantras all jumbled together. In Pisces, that Saturnian discernment and good judgement is important because this sign has much do with creativity and imagination, as well as faith, especially in ourselves. Where have we ‘imprisoned’ ourselves or ‘sentenced’ ourselves to never trying because we aren’t good enough/can’t make money from this/hadn’t a formal education in it/feel we are in a sibling’s shadow/will only make a fool of ourselves…?

Thinking back to my first Saturn return, it was when that book ‘The Artist’s Way‘ came out. I was living in New York, doing bootcamp as an illustrator, and heard the author being interviewed on NPR. She had some good tips on zeroing in on where that debilitating thought was seeded. When you do, the  original, flippant comment should now be given the Donald Duck accent it deserves.

Personally I didn’t listen to grade school teachers who came up with gems like, “that’s not how you draw a tree!”, but l was armed with planets, whereas others may not have been. Being told I wrote “like Dickens” by an art school writing class teacher (ie, not avant-garde enough) was maybe slightly more damaging, although, tbh, I quite liked Dickens.  For me, it was more the perpetual, continually reiterated belief (of individuals and Canadian society at large) that artists must struggle, art was no way to make a living, that sort of thing. Even later, when I felt free(er) of these straight-jackets, I would simply find new ones, courtesy of the astrologers, psychics and other intuitives I sought advice from and handed over my personal authority to. Pisces is so good at relinquishing power and its responsibility to its own needs!

Conver Tarot de Marseille c 1760

In the TdM Tower card, the force that ruptures the prison tower and releases the two people is not a lightening bolt, but a feathery plume, which some say is actually coming out of rather than directed toward the structure. Note that the Tower/16 is 7 ‘steps’ from the Hermit/9. Seven is the number of wisdom, and  this time it’s Grandmother wisdom. We can take heart in the fact that Saturn in Pisces is a lot more understanding and gentle than in Capricorn and Aquarius. This is a mutable sign, so it’s more of a water birth than by forceps or cesarian. It’s safe to come out of hiding, now.

I recommend  astrologer Molly McCord’s Youtube videos on Saturn in Pisces 2023. She talks about this and much more, very insightful!

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Full Moon in Cancer, Lilith, Menopause

Menopause is the new “hot topic”, according to the CBC news.
I’m guessing my Pluto in Virgo peeps “opened the floodgates” (media’s words, not mine) of taboo removal, because if there’s one thing Pluto/Virgo understands, it’s the deep, psychological  changes that are going on, together with the physical, as we enter opposite virginity, amirite, ladies? So, as we’ve now ‘crossed over’,  let us X-gens pass down what we have learned to the next gens.

Menses and month both come from the same root (men also means moon, and there was even a cute, little moon-god named Men, see below). The Moon is our oldest time keeper, as we find depicted on the walls of Lascaux (this is a recent article about it, here I thought it was common knowledge) and elsewhere, because her cycles coincide with those of  the female sex.
In the modern age of electricity, humans became out of sync with these natural cycles and the moods that go with them.

Roman Anatolian  ‘Men’ who presided over the lunar months.

When a woman (or a man, for that matter) is not in touch with her lunar nature, or feels ashamed of it, the unexpressed Moon self is diverted to shadow, where it becomes an initiate of the Black Moon, Lilith – you know, like those secret tiki god bohemian black magic clubs that respectable members of society used to have in their basements. Her creative power, like that of Pluto, can turn destructive, self-sabotaging, in an attempt to kill off the false self. When this finally occurs with age, we stop giving a damn what others think, and Lilith becomes a staunch ally and a force to be reckoned with. (She’ll be leaving Cancer and entering Leo in a couple of days, so, ya).

Fun fact: ‘Hysteria’ and ‘hysterics’ were once thought to be caused by the uterus  moving around through the body at night. (I think mine was actually doing this during perimenopause).

Grandmother Moon has been keeping time and observing all us babies since we were just amoebas on Earth’s watery womb, so if she could talk (and she does), oh the bedtime stories she could tell.  This is especially true under the Cancer full Moon, currently opposite retrograde Mercury. The past is bound to resurface in some shape or form. So how does this relate to menopause?

Venus of Laussel with her calends, Upper Paleolithic

The word itself means a ceasing (pause) of menses. Remember, the menstrual cycle is directly associated with time cycles, both inner and outer.  Perimenopause can be even more difficult than menopause or post-menopause (note the lunar triad within the triad, there), because everything is getting de-programmed and re-adjusted to a new phase, a new kind of time…hormones surge and drop in ways that make Cancerian mood-swings seem like a toy see-saw. This reverse puberty onset can be downright terrifying (I personally experienced losing half my blood and requiring a transfusion). Maiden and mother phases grow smaller in the distance, as we cross the threshold into Hecate’s cold, lunar landscape. Here, the unconscious knows no solar age…in the soul, everything is fluid. 

As beginner crones (root same as crow and crown), we must now become inwardly re-attuned with the Moon, as we feel the ravages of time on our bodies, and face the fact that the physical is temporal. We fear the body loss, because rational, scientific thinking tells us it is primarily our physical self that defines us (see previous Solar Heroes post), that it is the body that ‘has a soul’. But in fact, it is the eternal soul that has a body, or rather, bodies. Grandmother Moon is firm on this. She presides over the inner world like Sun does the outer. At night, we traverse her realm….but, how many of us at this stage find our sleeping patterns are all over the place?  Might it mean that our inner Moon is now wide awake and roaming out of bounds? Or just that darned, roaming uterus?

Will leave you with those thoughts, for now.
Stay tuned for more meno memos!

moon face with lolling tongue blue and white
Moon-faced Gorgoneion,  protectress of mysteries by RB

All written content ©Roxanna Bikadoroff 2023. Do not repost/republish my work in part or whole without first getting my permission.
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2023 – Of Gods, Solar Heroes and Magic

Happy New Year!

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 creatures were 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!”

‘The Mighty Hercules’ TV series  1960s

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 a 1 placement. All ‘1‘ placement cards have to do with the theme of change/transition/death/rebirth: 1Magician, 4-Emperor, 7-Chariot, 10-Wheel, 13-Unnamed, 16-Tower, 19-Sun.

Being the number of traditional planets/planetary spheres, 7 has 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.

painted icon of seated blue sphinx on gold background
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.

TdM Ace of Wands, a cudgel transform’d


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Any artwork of mine you share must include a credit/link [©Roxanna Bikadoroff]  Thank you for being respectful.

 

The Hermit and Isolation

“The Greek word erēmia is in turn rooted in erēmos, meaning desolate. While a certain bleak emptiness can accompany unsought solitude, there is solace to be found even so. As Chesterton observed in that same essay of his: “It is in society that men quarrel with their friends; it is in solitude that they forgive them.” The word itself dates back to the 12th Century, and comes from the Greek word erēmia, meaning desert, a big clue to its religious roots. Paul of Thebes is widely regarded as the first hermit, fleeing anti-Christian persecution and a scheming relative to exist alone in the Egyptian desert from the age of 13 to his death in the year 314, aged 113.

“Look to other cultures, and you’ll find that even early Buddhism’s chaste female wanderers, for example, were exceptions to the rule. Like the Hermit card in Tarot decks, we picture them male. In literature, the woman who opts for isolation tends to be at best a figure of pity, at worst, something more malevolent.

“Finally, one of history’s rarer female hermit voices, the Christian mystic Julian of Norwich – who lived through the Black Death as a child and survived serious illness in adulthood – provides words to which we all, believers, agnostics and atheists alike, might cling: “All shall be well, and all shall be well and all manner of thing shall be well.””

source: article by Hephzibah Anderson, BBC
https://www.bbc.com/worklife/article/20200417-what-hermits-can-teach-us-about-isolation