A closer look at these miniature masterpieces reveals that the power of these
cards isn’t endowed from some mystical source—it comes from the ability of their
small, static images to illuminate our most complex dilemmas and desires.
Collectors Weekly | Hunter Oatman-Stanford
Read when you’ve got time to spare.
The Empress. The Hanged Man. The Chariot. Judgment.
With their centuries-old iconography blending a mix of ancient
symbols, religious allegories,
and historic events, tarot cards can seem purposefully opaque. To outsiders
and skeptics, occult practices like card reading have little relevance in
our modern world. But a closer look at these miniature masterpieces reveals
that the power of these cards isn’t endowed from some mystical source—it comes
from the ability of their small, static images to illuminate our most
complex dilemmas and desires.
“There’s a lot of friction between tarot historians and card readers about
the origins and purpose of tarot cards.”
Contrary to what the uninitiated might think, the meaning of divination
cards changes over time, shaped by each era’s culture and the needs of
individual users. This is partly why these decks can be so puzzling to
outsiders, as most of them reference allegories or events familiar to
people many centuries ago. Caitlín Matthews, who teaches courses on
cartomancy, or divination with cards, says that before the 18th century,
the imagery on these cards was accessible to a much broader population.
But in contrast to these historic decks, Matthews finds most modern decks
harder to engage with.
“You either have these very shallow ones or these rampantly esoteric ones
with so many signs and symbols on them you can barely make them out,” says
Matthews. “I bought my first tarot pack, which was the Tarot de Marseille
published by Grimaud in 1969, and I recently came right around back to it
after not using it for a while.” Presumably originating in the 17th century,
the Tarot de Marseille is one of the most common types of tarot deck ever
produced. Marseille decks were generally printed with woodblocks and later
colored by hand using basic stencils.
Top: A selection of trump cards (top row) and pip cards (bottom row)
from the first edition of the Rider-Waite deck, circa 1909. Via the
World of Playing Cards. Above: Cards from a Tarot dezMarseille
deck made by François Gassmann, circa 1870. Photo courtesy Bill Wolf.
However, using cards for playful divination probably goes back
even further, to the 14th century, likely originating with Mamluk game
cards brought to Western Europe from Turkey. By the 1500s, the Italian
aristocracy was enjoying a game known as “tarocchi appropriati,”
in which players were dealt random cards and used thematic associations
with these cards to write poetic verses about one another—somewhat like
the popular childhood game “MASH.” These predictive cards were referred
to as “sortes,” meaning destinies or lots.
Even the earliest known tarot decks weren’t designed with mysticism in mind;
they were actually meant for playing a game similar to modern-day bridge.
Wealthy families in Italy commissioned expensive, artist-made decks known
as “carte da trionfi” or “cards of triumph.” These cards were marked with
suits of cups, swords, coins, and polo sticks (eventually changed to staves
or wands), and courts consisting of a king and two male underlings. Tarot cards
later incorporated queens, trumps (the wild cards unique to tarot), and the
Fool to this system, for a complete deck that usually totaled 78 cards.
Today, the suit cards are commonly called the Minor Arcana, while trump
cards are known as the Major Arcana.
Two hand-painted Mamluk cards from Turkey (left) and two cards from the
Visconti family deck (right), both circa 15th century.
Graphic designer and artist Bill Wolf, whose interest in tarot illustration
dates to his art-school days at Cooper Union in New York, has his own theories
about the tarot’s beginning. Wolf, who doesn’t use cards for divination, believes
that originally, “the meaning of the imagery was parallel to the mechanics of the
play of the game. The random draw of the cards created a new, unique narrative
each and every time the game was played, and the decisions players made influenced
the unfolding of that narrative.” Imagine a choose-your-own-adventure
style card game.
“The imagery was designed to reflect important aspects of the real world
that the players lived in, and the prominent Christian symbolism in the
cards is an obvious reflection of the Christian world in which they lived,”
he adds. As divinatory usage became more popular, illustrations evolved to
reflect a specific designer’s intention. “The subjects took on more and more
esoteric meaning,” says Wolf, “but they generally maintained the traditional
tarot structure of four suits of pip cards [similar to the numbered cards in a
normal playing-card deck], corresponding court cards, and the additional trump
cards, with a Fool.”
This woodblock version of the classic Tarot de Marseille was published around
1751 by Claude Burdel. Photo courtesy Bill Wolf.
Even if you aren’t familiar with tarot-card reading, you’ve likely seen one
of the common decks, like the famous Rider-Waite, which has been continually
printed since 1909. Named for publisher William Rider and popular mystic A.E. Waite,
who commissioned Pamela Colman Smith to illustrate the deck, the Rider-Waite
helped bring about the rise of 20th-century occult tarot used by mystical readers.
“The Rider-Waite deck was designed for divination and included a book written
by Waite in which he explained much of the esoteric meaning behind the imagery,”
says Wolf. “People say its revolutionary point of genius is that the pip cards
are ‘illustrated,’ meaning that Colman Smith incorporated the number of suit
signs into little scenes, and when taken together, they tell a story in pictures.
This strong narrative element gives readers something to latch onto, in that it is
relatively intuitive to look at a combination of cards and derive your own
story from them.
“The deck really took off in popularity when Stuart Kaplan obtained the
publishing rights and developed an audience for it in the early ’70s,”
says Wolf. Kaplan helped renew interest in card reading with his 1977 book,
Tarot Cards for Fun and Fortune Telling, and has since written several volumes
on tarot.
A version of the popular Rider-Waite deck from 1920.
Photo courtesy Bill Wolf.
Though historians like Kaplan and Matthews publish new information on divination
decks every year, there are still many holes in the larger story of fortune-
telling cards. Wolf points out that those who use cards for divination are
often at odds with academics researching their past. “There’s a lot of friction
between tarot historians and card readers about the origins and purpose of
tarot cards,” Wolf says. “The evidence suggests they were invented for gaming
and evolved for use in divination at a much later date. Personally, I believe
they were designed for game play, but that the design is a bit more sophisticated
than many tarot historians seem to believe.”
“The earliest known tarot decks weren’t designed with mysticism in mind;
they were actually meant for playing a game similar to modern-day bridge.”
By the mid-18th century, the mystical applications for cards had spread from
Italy to other parts of Europe. In France, writer Antoine Court de Gébelin
asserted that the tarot was based on a holy book written by Egyptian priests
and brought to Europe by Gypsies from Africa. In reality, tarot cards
predated the presence of Gypsies in Europe, who actually came from Asia
rather than Africa. Regardless of its inaccuracies, Court de Gébelin’s
nine-volume history of the world was highly influential.
Teacher and publisher Jean-Baptiste Alliette wrote his first book on the
tarot in 1791, called “Etteilla, ou L’art de lire dans les cartes,” meaning
“Etteilla, or the Art of Reading Cards.” (Alliette created this mystical
pseudonym “Etteilla” simply by reversing his surname.) According to Etteilla’s
writings, he first learned divination with a deck of 32 cards designed for a
game called Piquet, along with the addition of his special Etteilla card.
This type of card is known as the significator and typically stands in
for the individual having their fortune read.
A hand-colored set of tarot cards produced by F. Gumppenberg,
circa 1810.
Photo courtesy Bill Wolf.
While the tarot is the most widely known, it’s just one type of
deck used for divination; others include common playing cards and
so-called oracle decks, a term encompassing all the other fortune-telling
decks distinct from the traditional tarot. Etteilla eventually switched
to using a traditional tarot deck, which he claimed held secret wisdom
passed down from ancient Egypt. Etteilla’s premise echoed the writings
of Court de Gébelin, who allegedly recognized Egyptian symbols in tarot-card
illustrations. Though hieroglyphics had not yet been deciphered (the Rosetta
Stone was rediscovered in 1799), many European intellectuals in the late 18th
century believed the religion and writings of ancient Egypt held major insights
into human existence. By linking tarot imagery to Egyptian mysticism,
they gave the cards greater credibility.
Building on Court de Gébelin’s Egyptian connection, Etteilla claimed
that tarot cards originated with the legendary Book of Thoth, which
supposedly belonged to the Egyptian god of wisdom. According to Etteilla,
the book was engraved by Thoth’s priests into gold plates, providing the
imagery for the first tarot deck. Drawing on these theories, Etteilla published
his own deck in 1789—one of the first designed explicitly as a divination
tool and eventually referred to as the Egyptian tarot.
A few of the cards from Etteilla’s esoteric deck, reproduced by Grimaud
in 1890.
Photo courtesy Tero Goldenhill.
“Etteilla was one of the people who actually made divination so esoteric,”
says Matthews. “He created a deck that incorporated all the things from
Court de Gébelin and his book ‘Le Monde Primitif’ [‘The Primitive World’],
which suggested an Egyptian origin for the tarot and all sorts of arcane things.”
Matthews makes a distinction between the tarot’s abstract interpretations
and the straightforward “cartomantic” reading style that thrived during the
16th and 17th centuries, prior to Etteilla.
“When we used to send telegrams, each word costs money,” Matthews explains,
“so you’d have to send very few words like, ‘Big baby. Mother well. Come to
hospital.’ And you’d get the gist of it. I read cards in a very similar
way—starting from a few general keywords and making sense of them by filling
in the words that are missing. This isn’t the tarot style of reading where
you project things, like, ‘I can see that you’ve recently had a great
disappointment. Mercury is in retrograde and da da da.’ A cartomantic
reading is much more straightforward and pragmatic, for example, ‘Your
wife will eat tomatoes and fall off the roof and die horribly.’
It’s a direct way of reading, a pre-New Age way of reading.”
One of Matthews’ favorite decks is the Lenormand published by Bernd A. Mertz
in 2004 based on a design circa 1840.
Photo courtesy Caitlín Matthews.
A few of the cards from Etteilla’s esoteric deck,
reproduced by Grimaud in 1890. Photo courtesy Tero Goldenhill.
Matthews has authored several books on divinatory cards, including The Complete
Lenormand Oracle Cards Handbook, published in October 2014. This 36-card deck
was named after the celebrity card-reader Mademoiselle Marie Anne Lenormand,
who was popular around the turn of the 18th and 19th centuries, though the
decks bearing her name weren’t actually produced until after her death.
The oldest packs in Matthews’ collection are two Lenormand-style decks, the
French Daveluy of the 1860s and the Viennese Zauberkarten deck from 1864,
which were some of the first decks to be illustrated using the technique of
chromolithography.
“Your wife will eat tomatoes and fall off the roof and die horribly.”
Oracle decks like the Lenormand tend to rely on more direct visual language
than traditional tarot cards. “The tarot can often speak in broad, timeless,
universal statements about our place in the world,” says Wolf. “The imagery of
fortune-telling decks is more illustrational and less archetypal. The images
are generally more specific, simpler, and less universal, keeping the
conversation more straightforward.”
In contrast to most oracle decks, which don’t include suited pip cards,
Lenormand cards feature a unique combination of numbered playing-card
imagery on top of illustrated scenes used for fortune-telling. “One of the
earliest versions, called the Game of Hope, was made by a German named
J.K. Hechtel and was prepared like a board game,” says Matthews.
“You laid out cards 1 to 36, and the object of the game was to throw the
dice and move your tokens along it. If you got to card 35, which was the
anchor card, then you’re home, safe and dry. But if you went beyond that,
it was the cross, which was not so good. It was like the game Snakes and
Ladders.” In this way, the Game of Hope fell into the Victorian-era
tradition of board games that determined a player’s life story based on luck.
This Lenormand-style oracle deck shows a mixture of playing card and
fortune-telling illustrations, circa 1870.
Photo courtesy Bill Wolf.
The game’s original instructions said it could be used for divining because
the illustration on each card included both a symbolic image, like the anchor,
and a specific playing card, like the nine of spades. “Hechtel must have seen
that there were overlaps between divining with playing cards, which, of course,
everyone did, and his game,” says Matthews. “Many other oracle decks appeared
around the same time at the end of the 18th century and into the early 19th century.
They became really popular after the Napoleonic Wars when everyone settled down
and became terribly bourgeois.
“Quite recently, it was discovered by Mary Greer that there was a prior source
to the Lenormand cards,” she continues. “There’s a deck in the British Museum
called ‘Les Amusements des Allemands’ (‘The German Entertainment’). Basically,
a British firm put together a pack of cards that has images and little epigrams
on the bottom, which say things like, ‘Be aware, don’t spend your money unwisely,’
and that sort of thing. It’s quite trite. But it came with a book of text that’s
almost identical to the instructions for later packs of Lenormand cards.”
“Les Amusements des Allemands,” circa 1796, has many overlaps with
Lenormand decks. Via the British Museum.
By comparing various decks from different time periods, tarot-card
enthusiasts can identify the evolution of certain illustrations.
“For example,” says Matthews, “the modern version of the hermit with
the lantern, you’ll find that that was an hourglass and he was Saturn or
Chronos, the keeper of time. You can see how that translates with the Tarot
Bolognese meaning of delay or blockage. It was about time moving slowly,
though that’s not used as a modern meaning much now.”
Most card readers recognize that the associations and preconceptions of
the person being read for are just as important as the actual drawings on
the cards: Divination cards offer a way to project certain ideas, whether
subconscious or not, and to toy with potential outcomes for important
decisions. Thus, like scenes from a picture book, the best illustrations
typically offer clear visions of their subjects with an open-ended quality,
as though the action is unfolding before you.
Matthews’ favorite decks are those with straightforward illustrations,
like the Tarocchino Bolognese by Giuseppe Maria Mitelli, an Italian deck
created sometime around the 1660s. Matthews’ owns a facsimile of the Mitelli
deck, rather than an original, which means she can use them without fear of
damaging a priceless antique. “The deck that I enjoy most is the Mertz Lenormand
deck because of its clarity,” she says. “The background on each card is a creamy,
vellum color, so when you lay them out in tableau, you can see the illustrations
very clearly. I frankly get so tired of all the new Photoshopped tarots and the
slick art, with their complete lack of any framework or substance.
Trump cards from the Tarrocchini Bolognese designed by Giuseppe Maria Mitelli,
circa 1664.
“I also enjoy reading with the Lenormand deck made by Daveluy, which has
been beautifully reworked by Lauren Forestell, who specializes in restoring
facsimile decks—cleaning up 200 years’ worth of card shuffling and human grief.
The coloring on the Daveluy is very beautiful. Chromolithography gave an
incredibly clear color to everything, and I think it was probably as
revolutionary as Technicolor was in the days of the movies.”
The illustration on some decks did double duty, providing divinatory tools
and scientific knowledge, like the Geografia Tarocchi deck from around 1725.
“The Geografia are extraordinary cards, almost like a little encyclopedia of
the world with the oracle imagery peeking out at the top,” Matthews says.
“The actual bit that you read from is just a cigarette-card length. So for
example, the hanged man just shows his legs at the top of the card, while
the rest of the card has information about Africa or Asia or other places on it.”
On the Geografia deck, the symbolic imagery is reduced to a small colored
segment at the top of each card; the rest is related to global geography.
Via eBay.
In contrast, the meanings in other decks are particularly difficult to
decipher, like the infamous Thoth tarot developed by Aleister Crowley,
notorious for his involvement with various cults and experimentation with
recreational drugs and so-called “sex magick.” Completed in 1943, the Thoth
deck was illustrated by Lady Frieda Harris and incorporated a range of occult
and scientific symbols, inspiring many modern decks. As Wolf explains,
“with the rise of the divination market in the 20th century, more liberties
were taken, and the imagery evolved into increasingly personal artistic
statements, both in content and style of execution.”
But to balance such arcane decks, there are divinatory cards that offer
little room for interpretation, like “Le Scarabée d’Or” or The Golden
Beetle Oracle, one of Wolf’s most prized decks. “It’s just fantastically
bizarre. There’s a little window in the lid of the card box, and when
you shake it, the beetle appears, and points to a number,” he explains.
“Then you find the corresponding number on a set of round cards, with
beautiful script text on them, and read your fortune. Can you not
imagine standing in a Victorian parlor in France, consulting the
Golden Beetle? It was like performance art.”
( If you buy something through a link in this article, Collectors
Weekly may get a share of the sale. Learn more.)
How was it? Save stories you love and never lose them.
Source:
However, using cards for playful divination probably goes back even
further, to the 14th century, likely originating with Mamluk game cards
brought to Western Europe from Turkey. By the 1500s, the Italian aristocracy
was enjoying a game known as “tarocchi appropriati,” in which players were
dealt random cards and used thematic associations with these cards to write
poetic verses about one another—somewhat like the popular childhood game “MASH.”
These predictive cards were referred to as “sortes,” meaning destinies or lots.
Even the earliest known tarot decks weren’t designed with mysticism in mind;
they were actually meant for playing a game similar to modern-day bridge. Wealthy
families in Italy commissioned expensive, artist-made decks known as
“carte da trionfi” or “cards of triumph.” These cards were marked with suits of
cups, swords, coins, and polo sticks (eventually changed to staves or wands),
and courts consisting of a king and two male underlings. Tarot cards later
incorporated queens, trumps (the wild cards unique to tarot), and the Fool
to this system, for a complete deck that usually totaled 78 cards. Today,
the suit cards are commonly called the Minor Arcana, while trump cards are
known as the Major Arcana.
Two hand-painted Mamluk cards from Turkey (left) and two cards from the
Visconti family deck (right), both circa 15th century.
Graphic designer and artist Bill Wolf, whose interest in tarot illustration
dates to his art-school days at Cooper Union in New York, has his own theories
about the tarot’s beginning. Wolf, who doesn’t use cards for divination,
believes that originally, “the meaning of the imagery was parallel to the
mechanics of the play of the game. The random draw of the cards created a
new, unique narrative each and every time the game was played, and the
decisions players made influenced the unfolding of that narrative.”
Imagine a choose-your-own-adventure style card game.
“The imagery was designed to reflect important aspects of the real world
that the players lived in, and the prominent Christian symbolism in the
cards is an obvious reflection of the Christian world in which they lived,”
he adds. As divinatory usage became more popular, illustrations evolved to
reflect a specific designer’s intention. “The subjects took on more and more
esoteric meaning,” says Wolf, “but they generally maintained the traditional
tarot structure of four suits of pip cards [similar to the numbered cards
in a normal playing-card deck], corresponding court cards, and the additional
trump cards, with a Fool.”
This woodblock version of the classic Tarot de Marseille was published around
1751 by Claude Burdel. Photo courtesy Bill Wolf.
Even if you aren’t familiar with tarot-card reading, you’ve likely seen
one of the common decks, like the famous Rider-Waite, which has been
continually printed since 1909. Named for publisher William Rider and
popular mystic A.E. Waite, who commissioned Pamela Colman Smith to
illustrate the deck, the Rider-Waite helped bring about the rise of
20th-century occult tarot used by mystical readers.
“The Rider-Waite deck was designed for divination and included a book
written by Waite in which he explained much of the esoteric meaning
behind the imagery,” says Wolf. “People say its revolutionary point of
genius is that the pip cards are ‘illustrated,’ meaning that Colman Smith
incorporated the number of suit signs into little scenes, and when taken
together, they tell a story in pictures. This strong narrative element
gives readers something to latch onto, in that it is relatively intuitive
to look at a combination of cards and derive your own story from them.
“The deck really took off in popularity when Stuart Kaplan obtained the
publishing rights and developed an audience for it in the early ’70s,” says Wolf.
Kaplan helped renew interest in card reading with his 1977 book,
Tarot Cards for Fun and Fortune Telling, and has since written several
volumes on tarot.
A version of the popular Rider-Waite deck from 1920.
Photo courtesy Bill Wolf.
Though historians like Kaplan and Matthews publish new information on
divination decks every year, there are still many holes in the larger
story of fortune-telling cards. Wolf points out that those who use
cards for divination are often at odds with academics researching
their past. “There’s a lot of friction between tarot historians and
card readers about the origins and purpose of tarot cards,” Wolf says.
“The evidence suggests they were invented for gaming and evolved for use
in divination at a much later date. Personally, I believe they were
designed for game play, but that the design is a bit more sophisticated
than many tarot historians seem to believe.”
“The earliest known tarot decks weren’t designed with mysticism in
mind; they were actually meant for playing a game similar to modern-day bridge.”
By the mid-18th century, the mystical applications for cards had spread
from Italy to other parts of Europe. In France, writer Antoine Court de
Gébelin asserted that the tarot was based on a holy book written by
Egyptian priests and brought to Europe by Gypsies from Africa.
In reality, tarot cards predated the presence of Gypsies in Europe,
who actually came from Asia rather than Africa. Regardless of its
inaccuracies, Court de Gébelin’s nine-volume history of the world
was highly influential.
Teacher and publisher Jean-Baptiste Alliette wrote his first book on
the tarot in 1791, called “Etteilla, ou L’art de lire dans les cartes,”
meaning “Etteilla, or the Art of Reading Cards.” (Alliette created this
mystical pseudonym “Etteilla” simply by reversing his surname.) According
to Etteilla’s writings, he first learned divination with a deck of 32 cards
designed for a game called Piquet, along with the addition of his special
Etteilla card. This type of card is known as the significator and typically
stands in for the individual having their fortune read.
A hand-colored set of tarot cards produced by F. Gumppenberg,
circa 1810. Photo courtesy Bill Wolf.
While the tarot is the most widely known, it’s just one type of deck
used for divination; others include common playing cards and so-called
oracle decks, a term encompassing all the other fortune-telling decks
distinct from the traditional tarot. Etteilla eventually switched to
using a traditional tarot deck, which he claimed held secret wisdom passed
down from ancient Egypt. Etteilla’s premise echoed the writings of Court
de Gébelin, who allegedly recognized Egyptian symbols in tarot-card
illustrations. Though hieroglyphics had not yet been deciphered (the Rosetta
Stone was rediscovered in 1799), many European intellectuals in the late 18th
century believed the religion and writings of ancient Egypt held major
insights into human existence. By linking tarot imagery to Egyptian mysticism,
they gave the cards greater credibility.
Building on Court de Gébelin’s Egyptian connection, Etteilla claimed that tarot
cards originated with the legendary Book of Thoth, which supposedly belonged to
the Egyptian god of wisdom. According to Etteilla, the book was engraved by
Thoth’s priests into gold plates, providing the imagery for the first tarot
deck. Drawing on these theories, Etteilla published his own deck in 1789—one of
the first designed explicitly as a divination tool and eventually referred
to as the Egyptian tarot.
A few of the cards from Etteilla’s esoteric deck, reproduced
by Grimaud in 1890.
Photo courtesy Tero Goldenhill.
“Etteilla was one of the people who actually made divination so esoteric,”
says Matthews. “He created a deck that incorporated all the things from
Court de Gébelin and his book ‘Le Monde Primitif’ [‘The Primitive World’],
which suggested an Egyptian origin for the tarot and all sorts of arcane
things.” Matthews makes a distinction between the tarot’s abstract
interpretations and the straightforward “cartomantic” reading style that
thrived during the 16th and 17th centuries, prior to Etteilla.
“When we used to send telegrams, each word costs money,” Matthews explains,
“so you’d have to send very few words like, ‘Big baby. Mother well. Come to
hospital.’ And you’d get the gist of it. I read cards in a very similar
way—starting from a few general keywords and making sense of them by filling
in the words that are missing. This isn’t the tarot style of reading where you
project things, like, ‘I can see that you’ve recently had a great disappointment.
Mercury is in retrograde and da da da.’ A cartomantic reading is much more
straightforward and pragmatic, for example, ‘Your wife will eat tomatoes and
fall off the roof and die horribly.’ It’s a direct way of reading,
a pre-New Age way of reading.”
One of Matthews’ favorite decks is the Lenormand published by
Bernd A. Mertz in 2004 based on a design circa 1840.
Photo courtesy Caitlín Matthews.
Matthews has authored several books on divinatory cards, including
The Complete Lenormand Oracle Cards Handbook, published in October 2014.
This 36-card deck was named after the celebrity card-reader Mademoiselle
Marie Anne Lenormand, who was popular around the turn of the 18th and 19th
centuries, though the decks bearing her name weren’t actually produced until
after her death. The oldest packs in Matthews’ collection are two
Lenormand-style decks, the French Daveluy of the 1860s and the Viennese
Zauberkarten deck from 1864, which were some of the first decks to be
illustrated using the technique of chromolithography.
“Your wife will eat tomatoes and fall off the roof and die horribly.”
Oracle decks like the Lenormand tend to rely on more direct visual language
than traditional tarot cards. “The tarot can often speak in broad, timeless,
universal statements about our place in the world,” says Wolf. “The imagery of
fortune-telling decks is more illustrational and less archetypal.
The images are generally more specific, simpler, and less universal,
keeping the conversation more straightforward.”
In contrast to most oracle decks, which don’t include suited pip cards,
Lenormand cards feature a unique combination of numbered playing-card imagery
on top of illustrated scenes used for fortune-telling. “One of the earliest
versions, called the Game of Hope, was made by a German named J.K. Hechtel
and was prepared like a board game,” says Matthews. “You laid out cards 1 to 36,
and the object of the game was to throw the dice and move your tokens along it.
If you got to card 35, which was the anchor card, then you’re home, safe and dry.
But if you went beyond that, it was the cross, which was not so good. It was like
the game Snakes and Ladders.” In this way, the Game of Hope fell into the
Victorian-era tradition of board games that determined a player’s life
story based on luck.
This Lenormand-style oracle deck shows a mixture of playing card and
fortune-telling illustrations, circa 1870. Photo courtesy Bill Wolf.
The game’s original instructions said it could be used for divining
because the illustration on each card included both a symbolic image,
like the anchor, and a specific playing card, like the nine of spades.
“Hechtel must have seen that there were overlaps between divining with
playing cards, which, of course, everyone did, and his game,” says Matthews.
“Many other oracle decks appeared around the same time at the end of the 18th
century and into the early 19th century. They became really popular after the
Napoleonic Wars when everyone settled down and became terribly bourgeois.
“Quite recently, it was discovered by Mary Greer that there was a prior
source to the Lenormand cards,” she continues. “There’s a deck in the
British Museum called ‘Les Amusements des Allemands’ (‘The German Entertainment’).
Basically, a British firm put together a pack of cards that has images and
little epigrams on the bottom, which say things like, ‘Be aware, don’t spend
your money unwisely,’ and that sort of thing. It’s quite trite. But it came with
a book of text that’s almost identical to the instructions for later
packs of Lenormand cards.”
“Les Amusements des Allemands,” circa 1796, has many overlaps
with Lenormand decks. Via the British Museum.
By comparing various decks from different time periods, tarot-card
enthusiasts can identify the evolution of certain illustrations.
“For example,” says Matthews, “the modern version of the hermit with the
lantern, you’ll find that that was an hourglass and he was Saturn or
Chronos, the keeper of time. You can see how that translates with the
Tarot Bolognese meaning of delay or blockage. It was about time moving
slowly, though that’s not used as a modern meaning much now.”
Most card readers recognize that the associations and preconceptions of the
person being read for are just as important as the actual drawings on the
cards: Divination cards offer a way to project certain ideas, whether
subconscious or not, and to toy with potential outcomes for important decisions.
Thus, like scenes from a picture book, the best illustrations typically offer
clear visions of their subjects with an open-ended quality, as though the
action is unfolding before you.
Matthews’ favorite decks are those with straightforward illustrations, like
the Tarocchino Bolognese by Giuseppe Maria Mitelli, an Italian deck created
sometime around the 1660s. Matthews’ owns a facsimile of the Mitelli deck,
rather than an original, which means she can use them without fear of
damaging a priceless antique. “The deck that I enjoy most is the Mertz
Lenormand deck because of its clarity,” she says. “The background on each
card is a creamy, vellum color, so when you lay them out in tableau, you can
see the illustrations very clearly. I frankly get so tired of all the new
Photoshopped tarots and the slick art, with their complete lack of any
framework or substance.
Trump cards from the Tarrocchini Bolognese designed
by Giuseppe Maria Mitelli, circa 1664.
“I also enjoy reading with the Lenormand deck made by Daveluy, which has been
beautifully reworked by Lauren Forestell, who specializes in restoring
facsimile decks—cleaning up 200 years’ worth of card shuffling and human grief.
The coloring on the Daveluy is very beautiful. Chromolithography gave an
incredibly clear color to everything, and I think it was probably as
revolutionary as Technicolor was in the days of the movies.”
The illustration on some decks did double duty, providing divinatory
tools and scientific knowledge, like the Geografia Tarocchi deck from
around 1725. “The Geografia are extraordinary cards, almost like a little
encyclopedia of the world with the oracle imagery peeking out at the top,”
Matthews says. “The actual bit that you read from is just a cigarette-card
length. So for example, the hanged man just shows his legs at the top of
the card, while the rest of the card has information about Africa or
Asia or other places on it.”
On the Geografia deck, the symbolic imagery is reduced to a small colored
segment at the top of each card; the rest is related to global geography. Via eBay.
In contrast, the meanings in other decks are particularly difficult to
decipher, like the infamous Thoth tarot developed by Aleister Crowley,
notorious for his involvement with various cults and experimentation with
recreational drugs and so-called “sex magick.” Completed in 1943, the Thoth
deck was illustrated by Lady Frieda Harris and incorporated a range of occult
and scientific symbols, inspiring many modern decks. As Wolf explains,
“with the rise of the divination market in the 20th century, more liberties
were taken, and the imagery evolved into increasingly personal artistic
statements, both in content and style of execution.”
But to balance such arcane decks, there are divinatory cards that offer little
room for interpretation, like “Le Scarabée d’Or” or The Golden Beetle Oracle,
one of Wolf’s most prized decks. “It’s just fantastically bizarre. There’s a
little window in the lid of the card box, and when you shake it, the beetle
appears, and points to a number,” he explains. “Then you find the corresponding
number on a set of round cards, with beautiful script text on them, and read
your fortune. Can you not imagine standing in a Victorian parlor in France,
consulting the Golden Beetle? It was like performance art.”
( If you buy something through a link in this article,
Collectors Weekly may get a share of the sale. Learn more.)
How was it? Save stories you love and never lose them.
Courtesy of.
tps://getpocket.com/explore/item/tarot-mythology-
the-surprising-origins-of-the-world-s-most-misunderstood-
cards?utm_source=pocket-newtab-intl-en
