Starweaver’s Corner

Today’s card comes from the Thoth Tarot, designed by Aleister Crowley and illustrated by Lady Frieda Harris. The card bears considerable esoteric symbolism. In the Golden Dawn system of tarot correspondences, The Hermit corresponds to the sign of Virgo, and hence we see the shafts of wheat forming the background. The Hebrew letter for the card is Yod, the first letter of the divine name. Yod means “hand”, and so the Hermit’s hand is at the center of the card. Virgo is ruled by Mercury (Hermes), who served as the psychopomp figure in mythology and esoteric philosophy, guiding souls between heaven, earth, and the underworld. Hence we see Cerberus, the three-headed dog of Hades, as the Hermit’s companion. The spermatozoon and serpent-coiled egg reinforce Virgo’s fertility theme, although we are dealing now with an esoteric understanding of fertility - the creative interplay between matter and spirit that gives rise to creation.

On the Qabbalistic Tree of Life, the Hermit card is assigned to the path from Chesed to Tiphareth. It thus represents divine life and blessing streaming into the soul center, symbolized by the sun-like light in the Hermit’s lantern.

More literally, the Hermit is a monk or other religious seeker who shuns the company of humanity to undertake an inward journey of discovery and transformation. He carries his lantern with him into the lonely and dark places, seeking to bring hidden truth to light.

As Crowley remarks, the legend of Persephone helps bind these diverse ideas together. Persephone, a maiden goddess with agricultural associations (hence Virgo) is taken into the underworld by Hades (hence Cerberus), where she finds her own power as Queen of the Dead, striking a bargain in which she travels between the Underworld and the surface (to ensure the continued fertility of the earth), with Hermes of course being the messenger and guide.

In The Hermit, we see how new life arises from what might seem like a bleak and solitary journey beneath the earth. Only by carrying the light of spirit into the deep places of body, memory, and unconsciousness can return to the surface realities of life and make them fruitful and vivid.

When I began my study of tarot, The Hermit was my special card, just because my personality was naturally inclined toward privacy, solitude, and study. (The Led Zeppelin album didn’t hurt either.) But The Hermit, like all the cards of the major arcana, is not just a personality type, but is a teacher, a guide on a great journey through different layers of experience and understanding. The Hermit is solitary not just because solitary study suits him, but because his mission of discovery and transformation can only be achieved in the interior landscape of contemplation.

He knows the way in.

One of my favorite tidbits in the long history of tarot art is the tarot made by Giovanni Vacchetta in 1893. The images are very beautifully drawn, in a style that is hard to identify precisely - something like Renaissance mannerism meets Art Nouveau. The figures are lovely and poised, the faces sweet and elegant. When I first became interested in this deck, there was no way to purchase a reproduction. I ended up with a set of photocopies from a friend who had obtained a reproduction deck some years earlier. Today, it is available in a colorized reprint from Lo Scarabeo called “Tarot of the Master”. The green borders with titles on them are not on the original cards. I think the publisher did a nice job selecting colors for this printing; the pastels complement the original drawings nicely.

This deck captures some of the feel of art decks from earlier centuries, such as the Mitelli Tarot. The symbolism is fairly traditional, although the artist does give some creative interpretations, particularly in the major arcana. There are some images that are downright gruesome (the Queen of Swords with a severed head, the 10 of swords with an anatomically realistic heart being pierced by blades), which makes a sort of macabre contrast with the gentleness of the artistic style.

Although this deck was made at a time when the tarot’s occult reputation was firmly established (at least in France), it feels more like an homage to the tradition of tarot art in Italy. This is not to say it isn’t good to read with - it actually stacks up quite well against many of the older decks. The number cards depict the suit symbols (rather than narrative scenes), but in this deck they are richly and creatively rendered, providing more raw material for interpretive musing.

I fell in love with runes when I read The Hobbit as a youngster. As a system of writing, they were ancient and real, but now virtually forgotten - a mystery come down from the past.

Then Ralph Blum put out his book-and-runes set and runes became the new divination fad. He was chastised for his ignorance of the historical uses of runes (and even their names), but the truth is that history itself has scant little to offer us for instruction in the use of runes.

We do know they were used for active magic - to protect an item from theft or harm, to curse, to bring good fortune. There is some reason to think they may have been used for divination as well, although that suggestion is open to various interpretations.

The runes were first and foremost an alphabet, used to write the old Germanic dialects that would later evolve into German, English, Dutch, and the Norse languages. The oldest inscriptions go back to around the beginning of the common era, and their use finally petered out in the 1700s. The forms of the letters imply borrowing from the Etruscan writing of northern Italy.

Since we do not know any authentically ancient divinatory or magical meanings for the runes, we are more or less free to interpret them and use them as we choose. We do know the names of the runes, however, and these make an excellent starting point for constructing meanings for them. The rune names are a veritable catalog of things of importance to the ancient Germanic peoples: cattle, hail, sun, gift, ice . . .

To go further, one can refer to the rune poems. Three such poems survive: one in Old Norse, one in Icelandic, and one in Old English. A short verse is devoted to each rune, elaborating on its name. Although some have found esoteric significance in these verses, they were most likely intended as mnemonics.

In my own practice, I emphasize the use of runes in active magic rather than divination. A talisman with a rune carved in it can bring that energy into your life. Runes can also be scratched into candles for candle magic, or placed on a doorway or other permanent marker. When I do use them for divination, I usually just pull a single rune stone, and interpret it as the energy or idea that is present or needed at this time.

Some years ago, I had occasion to read The Myth of Matriarchal Prehistory by Cynthia Eller. Eller, once active in the Goddess spirituality movement, apparently became disillusioned at some point and decided to put her energies into debunking the belief system she had once helped to promote.

The first part of the book is a welcome critical appraisal of the idea that human beings once lived in a more-or-less universal matriarchal (or matrifocal), peaceful, Goddess-worshipping culture. Eller traces the development of this idea through the decades, and demonstrates (convincingly, at least for me) that the concept has little basis in historical or archeological fact. (Her attempts to supply alternative interpretations of the archeological record are less compelling - I think this is an area where we simply need to accept ambiguity.)

The second part of the book, however, departs from critical scholarship and becomes a lengthy polemic on the subject of Goddess concepts and why they are bad for women today. Eller’s contention is that contemporary Goddess worship, like patriarchy, is based on gender stereotypes. Sure, the stereotypes are somewhat more positive, but they are still stereotypes. Eller argues that seeing women as quintessentially nurturing, relationship-focused, and maternal is very limiting for women and holds us back from progressing to a rational, gender-blind Utopia.

Her perspective certainly deserves careful consideration and attention. Modern Paganism uses God and Goddess concepts that tend to be quite specific in form and characteristics. The triple goddess idea, for example, can be seen as imposing a very particular role for each stage of life, and hence creating a kind of age stereotyping, on top of the gender stereotyping Eller warns of.

But trying to strip our concept of deity of all distinguishing characteristics is a problematic project too. There is a joke about a child who asks his mother “Is God a man or a woman?” The mother, striving to be politically and theologically correct, replies that God is both man and woman. The child then asks if God is black or white. The mother again replies that God is both. Finally, the child asks if God is straight or gay. The mother, now very uncomfortable, sticks to her story: God is both. The child, now delighted with having solved the mystery, exclaims: “Oh! I get it! God is Michael Jackson!”

I once believed, like Eller, that social progress would come from seeing all people as equivalent, regardless of sex, race, age, religion, ethnicity, sexual orientation, or other group identification. While this is undeniably a desirable goal for our legal, political, and economic institutions, I don’t think the principle can be extended very effectively to the more subjective aspects of culture. I don’t think we can deal with differences in a healthy and intelligent way by imagining that they do not exist. We are all individuals, certainly, but we also belong to groups and categories, and those group identifications contribute to our identity as well.

I think one of the things that makes Paganism powerful for many of its adherents is the opportunities it presents to connect with different archetypes, in the form of Pagan goddesses or gods, animal guides, and other figures of the psyche. Carl Jung conceived of these archetypes as being embedded in the collective human psyche, ready to find expression through whatever forms a particular culture or individual favored. The Mother archetype, for example, might appear in myths and dreams in different guises. She might not even be female in all cases, but can still be recognized by the role she assumes and the essential qualities she symbolizes.

Archetypes and stereotypes are connected, but they are not the same thing. An archetype is a primal psychological or spiritual energy. We encounter archetypes through symbols - the characters in a story or myth, the images of our dreams, or the pictures in church or temple, or a deck of tarot cards. The symbols can and do vary from culture to culture and from person to person, but they are not wholly arbitrary. The benevolent and mysterious guiding figure that Jung called The Wise Old Man may appear as Odin, Merlin, or Obi-Wan Kenobi, but Loki, Goldilocks, or Britney Spears are just never going to be effective as symbols that point us to this archetype.

Whereas an archetype begins as a core psychic energy and then finds expression in symbol or image, a stereotype works in the opposite direction. The image we see creates a cluster of psychological expectations in our mind. A man sees an attractive woman and views her as a potential mate, before knowing anything about her. Students see an older man taking their college class with them and assume he is wise and knowledgeable, before he says a word.

Stereotypes can impede and distort relationships between people. To the extent that we allow our stereotypes to write the script of our interaction with others, we lose touch with who those people really are and shut ourselves off from what they may have to contribute to our lives. Stereotyping, although I doubt that we can ever vanquish it completely, can be rendered relatively harmless simply by practicing open-mindedness. Being open to having your initial impressions corrected by future experience does wonders.

Archetypes, on the other hand, are not so easy to set aside. It is part of our nature to learn about life and ourselves through image, story, and symbol. Our modern, secular society is no less captivated by myth than was ancient Greece or Judea. We may not call them gods and goddesses now, but we still show the same obsession with them, as we encounter them in our actors, musicians, and other icons of popular culture.

In the context of Goddess spirituality and other modern Pagan practices, people are generally quite conscious of the psychological potency of the archetypes they work with. When the Goddess as Great Mother is invoked and explored, it is the Mother archetype that is coming forth. The imagery of a woman of middle years adds a concreteness that helps us to interact with the archetype. Because this image is used consciously, I don’t think there is a great risk of lapsing into stereotyping and believing that all real women of middle years must have children and must act out the role of the Mother archetype. Some people, I suppose, may literalize the imagery in such a way, but I think they are few and far between.

There is a danger that archetypes can become stereotypes, but I think this is something that happens to symbols as they become worn out and taken for granted, at which point they are effectively dead as archetypes anyway.

The archetypes used in Goddess spirituality and other forms of modern Paganism are far from worn out and taken for granted. They are very much alive, they challenge the thinking of mainstream culture, and they help open doors onto new perspectives. The key to getting past our stereotypes, it seems to me, is not to try to imagine that we can experience life through a bland, generic, rational objectivity that is devoid of imagery and symbolism. Instead, the key is to work with imagery and symbolism creatively, consciously, and to continually challenge our selves and our relationships with the archetypes that shape us.

Mars enters Leo today, ending his long sulk in Cancer. He remains in Leo until July 1. Mars’s physical, outgoing energy finds a comfortable home in the fire sign of Leo. Mars is able to express himself vigorously and passionately now, and expects to achieve great things.

Mars applies his drive and energy to helping us secure a sense of our own worth and value. There is something to be proven, a point to be scored, a success to be registered and appreciated. Mars is already looking ahead to the triumph, the return home with crowds cheering and honors bestowed.

As always with Mars, the issue is whether his ambition and drive will take a nasty, aggressive turn. This is a special concern in the fire signs, which are not noted for their subtlety of expression or their sensitivity to others. Mars in Leo is determined to be king of the mountain, and is unlikely to notice anyone who is trampled underfoot on his way to the top. In Leo, Mars sees competition as a game, and every game must have a winner, so why be shy about it? Expect a fair amount of this energy to manifest verbally, in speeches or debates, with Mercury in Gemini for the duration of Mars’s stint in Leo.

During these next couple months, those connecting with Mars may be motivated by a desire to be the best at whatever goal they set for themselves. This can be a wonderful source of productive energy, if channeled into personal projects or acquiring new skills. But for some at this time, the desire to be the best can become distorted into a desire to see others fail or be proven wrong or unworthy.

Those born with planets in fire signs (Aries, Leo, or Sagittarius) will pick up on this Mars energy in a very facile way, and will probably enjoy themselves greatly, oblivious to its impact on others. Those with planets in the other fixed signs (Scorpio and Taurus in particular, but also Aquarius), may find themselves frustrated and provoked by conflicts of various sorts, which they are drawn into but don’t really understand.

This can be an excellent time for self-promotion and for getting noticed for our talents and activities. But we will all need to make frequent “reality checks” to make sure the attention-gathering doesn’t strike people the wrong way. Not all publicity is good publicity.