The Barbara Walker Tarot

2: The Papess The female spiritual authority sits between her temple pillars, Alpha and Omega, with an open book on her lap. The Keys of the Kingdom lie before her; a veil hangs behind. Early tarot decks showed her as Pope Joan, of the ninth century, who is said to have occupied the papal throne in male disguise until she was discovered and murdered. The Papess is also identified with Sophia/Sapientia, the Gnostic Great Mother, who embodies Wisdom and provides God with his “I-deas” (Goddess-spirits) and ability to act. Thus, she is like the Asian goddess Shakti. She is especially linked with the moon, which was once thought to give women their life-producing “wise bl…

1: The Magician Wearing the lemniscate (infinity sign) hat, the Magician introduces the first decade of trumps, and manipulates the four tarot suit signs, which represent the elements. He is usually identified with “thrice-great” Hermes (Egyptian Thoth), god of magic, guide to the mysteries of the afterlife. His card may indicate a trickster’s illusion, a pretense of power, or else a path to genuine enlightenment.

0: The Fool A jester sets out on his journey of enlightenment, guided by a symbolic flower and a butterfly (Psyche, the soul), with a dog snapping at his heel and a precipice in his path. He resembles the Asian images of the Unenlightened Man. He stands for folly, ignorance, recklessness, childish frivolity, or a blessed madness having the potential for later insight.

Prince of Pentacles: Merlin Protected by a pentacle and by the princess’s ankh, the wizard calls up the spirit of the Red Dragon, a symbol of Wales. Merlin was said to have been fathered by the Welsh god on a human virgin, though Christian interpreters of the myth claimed his father was a devil. As a pagan savior figure, he was buried by Nimue in a crystal cave, or perhaps a hollow oak, to await his Second Coming. His card represents patience and determination in solving mysteries, fearless following of clues, investigation of original beginnings.

Princess of Pentacles: Nimue The princess of magic invokes the earth spirit in an ancient henge. Nimue, Nemhain, Nemesis, or Diana Nemetona were some of the druidic/dryadic names of the incarnate Moon-goddess. Her Crone form brought an end to each chosen king in his turn, as Nimue brought death to her wizard-consort Merlin in the Grail legends. The princess means the wisdom of the ages: deep learning in esoteric matters, scholarly concentrations, the pursuit of knowledge, particularly knowledge of the past.

Ten of Pentacles: Protection Spinning a web of ten pentacles by candlelight, the priestess creates a protective spell. Like Homer’s Penelope, whose name meant the Eye Behind the Web, she preserves life by leaving her thread uncut. In ancient cults of the Fate-goddess, red threads symbolized the lifespan. “Measuring the pentacle” with red thread remained a popular gypsy healing charm throughout the centuries. Ten pentacles mean the protection of material advantages; financial security, stability, inheritance, firm foundations, ancestral property.

Nine of Pentacles: Accomplishment In the garden of her magic fruit tree, the pregnant virgin mother contemplates an image of her consort, the divine white elephant. Buddha’s virgin mother, Maya-Shakti was fecundated by the “Lord of Hosts,” the elephant god Ganesha. Maya was another name for the unmated Creatress aspect of Kali. Nine pentacles signify the nine months of gestation, the flowering tree is a promise of future fruit. The card means careful cultivation, productivity, love of nature, development of beauty through learning, increase of material well-being.

Eight of Pentacles: Learning A mother-priestess (Rose Red) imparts wisdom to a daughter-novice (Snow White) under the female-symbolic Western Rose Window. A hooded Crone holds the light. After the failure of the seven, the eight offers help through a different kind of learning embodied in female symbolism. Among its meanings are new knowledge, extension of understanding, secret doctrines, new hope, and serenity through enlightenment.

Seven of Pentacles: Failure Stripped of armor, his sword and shield broken, a knight grieves beside a single drooping flower in the Waste Land for the failure of his quest. Seven stars in the dark sky recall the Seven Mothers of the World, or Pleiades, who used to announce the period of infertility associated with sacred kings’ dying. Seven pentacles mean a death-period of inertia, frustration, lost opportunities, abandonment of vision, demotivation, deceived or fading hope.

Six of Pentacles: Charity A prosperous, jeweled courtesan gives money to a humble hunchback, who pleased her with the music of his lyre. She may be one of Aphrodite’s charites, or a Magdalene-priestess. It used to be said that a prime characteristic of the sacred harlot was compassion or venia: kindness, the Grace of Venus, whose number was six. Her card means gifts, patronage, philanthropy, help from one of Fortune’s favorites; also, a warning against misplaced generosity.

Five of Pentacles: Hardship Five wretched beggars—one a woman with a starving baby, one a child apparently dying—huddle on a wintry night outside a warmly lighted church, unable to enter. The dire five of the money suit suggests the nadir of poverty, which the medieval church did little to relieve, as this tarot picture recalls. Interpretations include hard times, worry, loss, adversity, insecurity, lack of help from established institutions.

Four of Pentacles: Avarice In a dead landscape, the grim, windowless treasury-fortress gathers in more and more treasure. None ever goes out again. This is the card of hoarding, covetousness, selfishness, mistrust, greed, inability to let go, blockages of thought or action resulting from too much acquisitiveness.

Three of Pentacles: Work A man and woman decorate their temple wall. He carves symbolic figures. She writes runes; knowledge of such writing was first attributed to women. Among pictured figures are: Cernunnos the Horned God, the lunar wolf, a siren, dragon ship, lemniscate, Greek cross, Cross of Wotan, triangle, triceps, moon, swastika, and sigils of deities. The three of pentacles means joint effort, teamwork, productive functioning in cooperation with others.

Two of Pentacles: Change The lemniscate infinity sign appears with two pentacles, two mutually swallowing serpents, and two yang-and-yin symbols. Light and darkness, life and death, cyclic transformations appear in all these signs. The two of pentacles was important in the medieval tarot, carrying the maker’s name as well as a diagram for a layout. In alchemy, it meant “the Sun and Moon linked by the Dragon.” The two of pentacles stands for alteration, growth, new directions, existence folding back in itself, impermanent circumstances.

Ace of Pentacles: Reward The Earth Goddess, or Mother Eve, appears with her ubiquitous serpent on the pentacle that represents the inner spirit of her magic apple, the “core” of enlightenment. Older Goddess figures gave the gods themselves eternal life with their magic apples. Thus every apple carries an inner pentacle, revealed when the fruit is crosscut. This was called the Kore, the Maiden within the Mother (Demeter), who gave just rewards to all. The ace of pentacles means wealth, possessions, money matters, security, property, material rewards, that is, from the Mother (mater), or “earth,” the gypsy synonym for money. The suit became “diamonds,” another earth si…

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…

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 …

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.