The Barbara Walker Tarot

MAJOR ARCANA 0. The Fool 1. The Magician 2. The Papess 3. The Empress 4. The Emperor 5. The Pope 6. The Lovers 7. The Chariot 8. Justice 9. The Hermit 10. The Wheel Of Fortune 11. Strength 12. The Hanged Man 13. Death 14. Temperance 15. The Devil 16. The House of God 17. The Star 18. The Moon 19. The Sun 20. Judgment 21. The World MINOR ARCANA WANDS Ace of Wands: Power Two of Wands: Alliance Three of Wands: Fate Four of Wands: Success Five of Wands: Impasse Six of Wands: Glory …

In case anyone's interested, my mom still has a bunch of old proof prints of the original card artwork. (The true original canvas-boards became property of U.S.Games, and are probably buried somewhere in the same vast warehouse as the Lost Ark.) Last time I was with her I did a quick layout [definitely not a "spread"] just to see what was there. Larger images with a bit more quality/detail are hosted here . They're about 8 x 10 inches and have clear plastic protective film, but that didn't prevent the photo paper from fading and color-shifting over the years. Some are from before the pips were painted in, before they actually turned into *card* artwork. …

I remember that the first time I laid my eyes on the Barbara Walker, I vowed to myself that I would one day have it. That was way before USG decided to release it in a tin, when all the remaining copies were heartbreakingly-priced. I recall promising myself just that in a post in AT lol. I just knew that I would, because its images stirred a slumbering locus in my core that reacted to its brazen, unrelenting vignettes. I felt that when we do begin a pas de deux, it would be one for the ages. And oh, how right I was. By all means, the deck should have turned me off. It had a 70's indie movie aesthetic that I don't find particularly interesting elsewhere. It was printed …

Five of Swords: Defeat Hanging on his sacrificial tree, the god gives blood from the wound in his side to the Fatal Women, who spin it into the red thread of life. The three Marys at the foot of Jesus’s cross were paralleled in Norse myth by the three Norns at the foot of the World Tree where Odin hung, wounded in his side, waiting to attain his godhood. The three were also the Greeks’ Moerae or Fates: Spinner, Measurer, and Cutter of life’s thread. They ruled even gods, who won divinity by submitting to defeat and death. Odin takes the part of the card’s traditional Lord of Defeat, representing self-abasement, passive endurance, swallowing of pride, submission to fa…

Princess of Wands: Atargatis Floating between sun and moon, the Sea-goddess represents both giving and taking, her traditional breast-offering pose countered by the dangerous, devouring vagina dentata. Like other forms of the middle-eastern Goddess, Atargatis/Astarte/Ishtar stood for both nurture and destruction. At Der in Babylon, she devoured the phallic god Oannes and gave him rebirth, a myth later repeated as the biblical story of Jonah. Her card means irresistible power, a perilous compulsion, symbolized by another of her totems, the spider. Though risky, her path might bring great rewards.

Queen of Wands: Hel The Queen of the Dead, with her serpent, reveals her underground fire pit that used to be likened to the boiling Cauldron of Regeneration. The Viking’s fiery Mother Hel, or Holle, wears a sprig of her sacred holly, which was displayed each year at the Yule midwinter solstice to signify the rebirth of the sun from her deep infernus. As Queen of Wands she stands for fiery qualities: warmth, ardor, illumination, benevolence, comfort, accompanied by danger of destructiveness if she is not treated respectfully.

Queen of Pentacles: Erda Mother Earth, as a Paleolithic Goddess figure, stands above a sacred cave in moonlight. Primitive worshipers dance around a fire at her feet. The world’s earliest artworks show the Goddess in this guise. Some of her earliest European names were Eartha, Erda, Edda, Hretha, Hertha, Eorth, Urth, Urd, Wurd, Wyrd, and Weird. Like her exaggerated maternal characteristics, her card represents overwhelmingly “earthy” or material blessings; fecundity, abundance, generosity, support, comfort, creative inspiration, nurturing warmth.

King of Pentacles: Baal The mountain god holds the star of knowledge in his head, on a bleak, rocky summit, difficult of ascent. Only men willing to struggle to the mountaintops could learn secrets of the Baals (Middle Eastern gods). Mount Sinai, allegedly ascended by Moses, belonged to the Baal named Sin, Moon-god of the Sinai peninsula. He also ruled volcanoes, appearing (in biblical language) as a pillar of fire by night and a pillar of cloud by day, and as “the Rock that begat thee.” Baal means “the Lord.” His card means rocklike stability, tenacity, reliability, heaviness, sternness, authority.

Three of Swords: Sorrow A grieving figure huddles in the corner of a narrow cell, trying to shut out the sight of three bloody swords in a triangle. As a card of lamentation and also “singing,” the three suggests a formal mourning ritual, such as temple women used to observe. Other interpretations include isolations, loneliness, imprisonment, bereavement, disappointment, and self-pity.

Four of Swords: Seclusion The sybil in her cave communes with the earth spirit in a ceremonial square of four swords. Sitting cross-legged like a yogi was once regarded as a way of invoking Mother Earth, as in the Roman rites of Terra Mater, Cybele, or Ops. Therefore, Christian authorities ruled that sitting cross-legged was a form of witchcraft. Signs of spiritual insight in women were usually so defined and the sybil’s four swords may mean protection against attack. The card means inner powers secretly invoked through isolation, as in enforced rest or convalescence, exile, renunciation, introspection.

Six of Swords: Passage Six ghostly swordsmen cross the black river Styx to enter the underworld gate, guarded by its silent Goddess, the giant Sphinx. Some said the Styx was a river of blood leading to the Goddess’s underground womb, where life was regenerated. It was also called Alpha, the river of birth; an expression of the small figure on the riverbank holding up a small light of hope. Interpretations include an anxious time, a journey over water, a passage toward a dark, unknowable future, difficulties to be faced before eventual success.

Seven of Swords: Opposition Seated before a wall of magical symbols, a black-robed Crone and her cat stare menacingly. Black cats were sacred totems of the Black Goddess, third of the trinity, whose function was to cast the curse of death in due season. She was variously called Hag, or “Holy woman,” Hecate, Caillech, Valkyrie, or fairy. Her card indicates quarrels, curses, interference, secret enemies, “being at swords’ points,” being crossed and closed, deliberate hampering of movement.

Eighy of Swords: Disillusion Weary of war, a crusader reaches the land’s end and slumps on his horse, unable to face the sunset. A circling vulture watches him. His way back is barred by swords of past battles. The gray horse was once a death symbol, supposed to carry Norse warriors to the sunset land. The warrior of the eighth sword seems blocked. He stands for disillusion with a formerly revered cause, fruitless conflict, censure, embarrassment, false beliefs, spiritual pollution, bad news, retribution for unkindness.

Nine of Swords: Cruelty Threatened by a circle of Inquisitors, a young dryad/druidess desperately seeks the protection of her tree, which may prove unable to save her. Though the medieval scholar Psellus called the druidesses eternal minds in earthly bodies, able to know men’s thoughts and foretell the future, they seemed powerless to invoke their tree spirits against the Inquisition’s cruelty. The Inquisitions’ nine swords stand for hatred, scandal, unreasoning violence, brutal neglect or abandonment, misery.

Ten of Swords: Ruin The divine hero-martyr dies bound to his pillar on a bleak seacoast, attended by the black-clad priestess and her bird of doom. This version is Cu Chulainn, another god-begotten, virgin-born, apotheosized hero, sentenced to his ceremonial death by the Celtic Crone-goddess Macha, Queen of the Dead, also known as Morgan, Morrigan, Mab, or the Banshee. Like the corresponding ten of spades, the card represents a nadir of fortune: evil, desolation, affliction, martyrdom, pain.

Princess of Swords: Skuld The Valkyrie rides her black horse over storm clouds, seeking the souls of warrior-heroes who died bravely. Skuld was the leader of Norse death angels, whose earthly embodiments were funerary priestesses, like Asian dakinis: the Slavic Wilis, Vilas, Valas, or Saxon Valkyries. Skuld’s magic was eventually condemned as “skulduggery” or witchcraft. Her card means a stringent test or formidable challenge, a vigilant, active, shrewd, sharp-witted person capable of probing hidden weakness, keen judgment, unconquerable spirit, stern expectations.

Prince of Swords: Tyr Backed by a yellow flag of pestilence, the war god in black armor poses arrogantly above a pile of corpses. Counterpart of the battle-maid of Norse myth was the war god Tyr, or Tiw, whom the Romans called Mars. His day of the week was Tiw’s Day (Tuesday). He personified the violent, vengeful aspect of the heavenly father (Wotan or Woden, of Wednesday). His card means a hateful, domineering personality, warlike spirit, disregard for others’ feelings, or harmful impersonal forces such as accident, sickness, natural disasters, oppressive circumstances.

Queen of Swords: Kali The Destroying Goddess is in classic pose, squatting over the corpse of her consort, devouring his entrails. India’s Kali Ma was one of the most terrifying versions of the Mother’s death-bringing aspect, though she also appeared as a beautiful virgin, tender lover, and mother. Identifying themselves with her consort, her male worshipers said no man could comprehend her totality until he knew her as his “tearer and devourer.” Like the queen of spades, she seems cruel, but only as cruelty inherent in the natural world. Her card means fatal decision, philosophical subtlety, swift action, separation, privation, or widowhood—the eternal condition of …

King of Swords: Yama Encircled by the infinity sign of renewal, the bull-masked underworld death god dances on his totem, the sacrificial bull. Yama’s name was an antonym of Kali’s Virgin/Creatress aspect, Maya. Incarnate in the bull, he entered the underworld to make a place for the souls of dead men. His blue skin was a conventional Asian sign of godhood, due to “blue blood,” which was also attributed even to Jehovah as the Gnostic Demiurge of “a dark blue complexion.” Yama’s male-and-female emblems of sword and lotus suggest regeneration, like the infinity sign. He stands for godlike authority, a powerful judge, discipline, order, obedience to the law of nature, a…

Four of Wands: Success Under the marriage canopy, the bride crowns her bridegroom as he kneels before her, receiving her ritual apple, symbol of fruition. Sacred marriage signified success for a king or god. Crowned with the bridal wreath, he entered into his kingdom, embodied in the Goddess and her earthly representative the priestess-queen. The ceremony was essential to kings’ coronations in ancient Egypt, India, Babylon, Akkad, and early Palestine. Four world corner-posts are wands upholding the sky-canopy over home, the center of the earth, marriage, security, reward, the fruits of effort.

Ten of Wands: Oppression A victor complacently watches his defeated rival fall into a dark, dangerous pit. Like Gnostic Christians who revered the defeated Lucifer, “Light-bringer,” and regarded the triumphant deity as a tyrant, interpreters of the culminating card of the power suit recall that absolute power corrupts and leads to injustice. The ten might mean misuse of power, selfish authority, and too much pressure generating resentment and possible mutiny.

Five of Wands: Impasse In a mysterious night ceremony, five faceless, hooded figures surround a victim. After the sacred marriage, ancient kings often ruled only for a predetermined time, then served as ceremonial victims for the sake of fertility, or to absolve the sins of others. Shiva became the bridegroom first, then the Condemned One. A rite like his svayamara or love-death survived in the British Isles as a mummer’s dance called the Rose: five men with swords or rods danced around a symbolically slain “Fool.” Five wands imply powerlessness in the suit of power. Security fails. The impasse seems hopeless, though this may be an illusion.

Prince of Wands: Dagon On his sun-and-moon altar, the god displays both animal and human characteristics. Dagon’s wand and cauldron symbolize fire and water, as his goat head and fish tail symbolize earth and sea; these appeared later in the zodiacal sign of Capricorn. Also called Yamm, Phoenix or Molech, he was a dual-natured consort of the cyclic Goddess Atargatis. His card suggests the unconventional, unexpected, unpredictable, or startling; seeming irrational but having underlying consistency.

Six of Wands: Glory The solar hero rides triumphant with a wand of power. As resurrection follows sacrifice, the six’s triumph follows the five’s impotence. Mounting a horse often signified godlike status in ancient iconography. Like the sun, the hero “rose again.” His card means a period of victory, fame, adulation, possibly a perilously short season in the sun.

King of Wands: Valraven Under his trefoil crown of shamrocks or “clubs,” the king listens to his messenger, the black bird of magic speech. Valraven was a Danish version of the totemic raven-king reborn in fire. He understood the mysteries of the Triple Goddess, one of whose emblems was the trefoil. This king is credited with a hot, energetic, active nature, powerful, hard to control, attractive but possibly dangerous.