library

The Tarot Tradition

Tarot: Gender As Symbol (continued)

One can't talk about the Tarot's links to the mystical past without at least mentioning its rich store of symbolism. Some of it is intrinsic, but much of it is alludes to other branches of Western esotericism. Just like the gathered wizards in Fez intended, right? A full inventory of these symbols is way beyond the scope of this little summary. Suffice it to say that the cards' treasure of imagery is a big part of its capacity to inspire illumination in the devotee.

An good example of how this symbolism appears is The Magician card, number one of the Major Arcana. This card was originally called The Juggler, a less exalted character maybe, but still a conjurer and dazzler. Right away, we have a reference to the astrological Mercury, planet of multi-tasking and wizardry among other things. The older Juggler image represents mutability and crafty manipulation. The later Magician figure is a more conscious practitioner of occult ritual. He represents the articulation of vision, ideas, plans and their ability to change things. In both versions appear the sword, wand, cup and coin or pentacle. These represent not only the four suits, but the four classic (and astrological) elements of air, fire, water and earth, as well as the tools of ceremonial magic.

If the Magician is a male archetype, then the next card, The High Priestess, is his feminine counterpart. She is the mysterious incubation stage of life, dreams and wisdom. Unlike the Magician, she does not play any tricks or try to show how smart she is. She is silent and magnetic, like the ocean. It's worth pointing out that this card also has an older, medieval designation, The Popess. This refers to a female pope who reigned for a period when the Church was splintered, allowing temporary deviations from orthodoxy. However short lived this situation, the idea of a women cleric stayed alive in the popular imagination. It was probably the closest thing Europe had at the time to the wise priestesses of antiquity.

This male/female pairing manifests again in a more worldly (for lack of a better word) sense in the next two cards: The Empress and the Emperor. They balance each other out gender-wise as in the two previous cards. This yin-yang of masculine and feminine permeates the Tarot, and is further evidence of its infinite wisdom. The patriarchal age it emerged from seems to have left little mark on it in that respect. In fact, the Tarot's murky beginnings roughly coincide with a culture that idealized the feminine in parts of Europe around the 13th century. We're talking about the Troubadours, the philosophy of courtly love and the "heretical" Cathar sect. To say that the Tarot grew directly out of this phenomenon is far too wild a speculation, since there is no evidence to support it. On the other hand, what are the chances that a sexually fair system like Tarot would evolve in a complete vacuum? That said, I wouldn't say that the female symbols in the Tarot are idealized any more than the masculine ones are.

The masculine/feminine dialogue is established in these two sequential pairs. The gender theme pops up later in the Major Arcana, but it is strongest in these first four numbered trumps. On this subject, a few further points should by made.

What about the Fool? The Fool, as number "0" comes before the Magician. The Fool is androgynous, representing a state prior to the division into active/passive or yin/yang. The Fool is often portrayed about to walk off a mountain cliff. The lofty heights stand for a closeness to undifferentiated godhead. The valley below is where life is about to happen. The Fool is, therefore, unlimited possibilities waiting to be realized. Once it steps off the precipice and lands in the valley, it will become either male or female. Until then, the Fool remains a pure (though not angelic) archetype. In a way, the rest of the Major Arcana is a journey or set of stages the Fool must go through. Our souls before incarnation into mortal existence are like the Fool, neither male or female, free to roam through the aethers.

After the Emperor, one card remains before the Lovers (number six) brings the masculine and feminine polarity together. It does not fit as neatly into the preceding yin/yang dialectic as we would like. This would be number five, the Hierophant. There are plenty of people who don't even know what the word means. It basically means "high priest". More specifically, it refers to the ones who presided over the Eleusinian Mysteries of ancient Greece. For reasons similar to those discussed in relation to the High Priestess, this card used to be titled "the Pope". As far as I know, it was not until the turn of the last century that the current name came to be used. Whereas the Priestess represents a kind of inner knowing, the Hierophant represents knowledge or wisdom that is written down and codified. Some things can be taught, while some cannot. The Hierophant has to do with the former. The Hierophant is sometimes unfairly associated with the rigidly doctrinal aspect of religion and morality. He is much larger than that. He represents authority through knowledge and information, not through force. Although easily paired to the Priestess, he can also be the consort to the female figure in Justice.

In the next card, the Lovers, the sexes (plus all they symbolize) do not merge. They retain their distinct identity, while coming together. It is the harmony of opposites, not the obliteration of polarity. An older version of this card shows a man trying to choose between a chastely plain woman and a beautiful, but supposedly less pure, one. The theme of choice is implicit in this scenario. For me, this moralistic homily seems superimposed. The fact that it is older doesn't make it any more authentic. If you go back as far as the 15th century Visconti-Sforza deck it is not there. All you see is the man and woman, with an angel presiding over their union. The angel later became "the other woman". In the early 20th century it was restored to its original celestial position.