Court Portrait - Queen of Cups

Think you know yourself? Try your hand at acting, and you may be surprised at what surfaces.

I've given it up myself, mostly. There was a time when I used to find myself onstage quite often, but one night during a painful argument with a close friend I realized I had lost my ability to subjectively grasp my own emotions. As my eyes welled up tears, I caught myself thinking: Should I let the tears fall, so he sees how hurt I am? Or should I stifle them so that I seem more independent? Which would be preferable?

I became bothered by the fact that I was having these thoughts instead of actually experiencing the moment as it occurred. If I was detached enough to play director, how hurt could I really be? So I ended the argument, and I took some time off from acting.

There are people I know who make me want to do a lot more of it. I knew Amy Lee had that quality before I'd even seen her onstage -- in our few chats she struck me as being more genuinely interested in others than most actors I'd known, and more self-aware. Naturally, I assume there's a sad story behind all this. But that is what drew me to AL, the access she granted to both her joy and her sadness, the former shining just above the surface, the latter suspended just below the crust like a rich vein of oil. I've seen Medea smile lovingly with those lips, seen Nurse Ratched weep real tears from those eyes, and somehow they were just as believable as the snarling. As real as the blood.

You can imagine my pleasure in seeing this portrait of the artist as a woman confronting her own reflection, hovering on either side of terminal point where the observation threatens to switch places with her observer. On one side of the glass bright lights emanate, on the other side you see the darkness creeping in from behind. The cup, suitably enough, is just another prop; the litter of empties hints at the long day behind, the long night ahead.

This particular figure, the Queen of Cups, is often imagined to be somewhat inaccessible, gazing raptly into inner space. If she ever hopes to share the observations that lie within, she must either attempt to drag them to the surface (a task better suited to the Princess/Page of Cups), or she must lure people down into the depths where they can apprehend her vision with their own eyes. In my opinion, that is the real challenge and magic of theatre: convincing a stranger in the audience to hold his breath, suspend his disbelief, and dive (not to mention pointing him back at just the right moment, before he can panic and drown).

I don't know if I have the elemental infrastructure to spend any great amount of time exploring those reefs -- my last stab at acting commanded more introspection offstage than on. But will always love watching others try, and I love following them down to the places which they know so well, the underwater fumaroles that give off such surprising heat.

Previously On Arcanalogue: The Queen of Cups

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The Queen of Coins - Her Hair Is Full of Secrets!

Okay, so after last time you should know what to do. This time your raw material comes via a brilliant BibliOdyssey post about satirical depictions of women's hairstyles circa the late 18th century. Plenty more to look at if you follow the link -- let me know which court card is the best match!

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"The Medium Is The Message..."

I thumbed through this deck of cards designed by Marshall McLuhan with great interest. Published in 1969, the deck was called "Distant Early Warning", and was meant to provide a random matrix of McLuhan-esque wisdom. You know, handy little sayings like "When you're flat on your back, don't raise your head or your friends will kick your teeth in."

While it's not unlike a Tarot deck in certain ways, the images and messages on the DEW cards rarely echo the meaning of their corresponding Tarot cards. For example, his Two of Spades says "I Drew The Coffin,." It would require Nixon-esque contortions of logic to see any meaningful parallels to the Tarot's Two of Swords.

Some, however, are tantalizingly close calls. And then I saw this, the Queen of Hearts, and I felt a tingle of recognition. The Queen of Cups is a dreamer and gazer. She's often seen as something of a sibyl -- her focus is ultimately inward, and while she often communicates her feelings and visions with startling clarity, she can obscure herself safely behind the veil of her dreams at will. The nonsense sentence "She shell ebb music wayriver she flows," with its beautifully watery and opaque phrasing, seemed like a pure utterance from the Queen of Cups -- in fact, I couldn't even imagine what else it referred to. It didn't seem anything at all like the deck's other wry and rather obvious sayings.

Perhaps you're already miles ahead of me here, but I wrote to my friend Colin and asked him if there was something I wasn't seeing. Right away he wrote back: "She shall have music wherever she goes." Of course!! That nursery rhyme:

Ride a cock horse to Banbury Cross
To see a fine lady upon a white horse
With rings on her fingers and bells on her toes
She shall have music wherever she goes

So the tingle of familiarity I felt when I saw the card was twofold, it seems. But what was McLuhan's card actually intended to convey? That there are clear and familiar meanings hidden in plain sight behind our language? That we must listen more deeply, to how things sound or feel, instead of accepting them at face value? I doubt he cared much for the Tarot, but I think he'd appreciate the extra layers of meaning that my brain painted onto his Queen. (I admit, he seems to have gotten the Queen of Wands' number as well.) And in any case, his famous saying "The message is the medium" applies to the Tarot quite wonderfully. But I think I'll leave it up to you, dear reader, to inuit exactly how... [Via]

Previously On Arcanalogue: The Queen of Cups

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"Two Enigmatic And Embattled Women..."

If it seems like this post is awfully crowded with Queens, then imagine how Londoners felt in 1568 when two very different royal personages both claimed to be the rightful queen of England.

There was the incumbent and virginal Protestant, Elizabeth I, who attempted to make up for the doubts about her legitimacy and the presumed weakness of her sex by putting duty ahead of her personal feelings in all state matters. Then there was her vivacious Catholic cousin Mary, who was crowned Queen of Scotland when she was only six days old and became the Queen of France as well at seventeen. Painfully susceptible to intrigue, she scandalized Europe when she married the man presumed to have killed her former husband. Mary's (somewhat legitimate) claim to Elizabeth's crown made the virgin queen a target for assassins and would-be revolutionaries, and fearing an uprising, Elizabeth imprisoned her cousin on a murder charge that eventually resulted in Mary's execution.

The tense relationship (which I am drastically oversimplifying here) is the subject of Friedrich Schiller's astounding play, Mary Stuart, which is currently in previews on Broadway; it will officially open on April 19th. I can't recommend it strongly enough; observing these two enigmatic and embattled women at close range was a mesmerizing (and, at times, terrifying) experience. Schiller's script -- which imagines a meeting between these queens that never actually occurred in real life -- is both political and deeply personal, and I'm sure that by the end of it everyone in the audience figured they'd probably rather die than have someone put a crown on their head. Though the gowns were pretty fabulous...

Anyhow, you can blame Mary Stuart for today's twofer; I try to avoid fairly obvious icons when I post cards, but this excellent piece of theatre deserves all the support I can muster. As our reigning Queen of Swords, Elizabeth is the very picture of judicious, sadder-but-wiser wariness. She's extremely calculating, but this is to compensate for her own vulnerability, which she fears more than anything. To keep herself on course, she strategically looks two or three stages ahead before risking a single step. This caused her advisors no end of frustration -- whenever they tried to urge her into action, she'd simply tell them "video et taceo" ("I see, and say nothing") and take her own sweet time weighing the matter.

Of course this style of ruling -- forcing one's own desires and needs to take a backseat to matters of state -- comes at a great personal cost, especially in the long term; discipline should polish and transform the raw material of your soul, not suppress and replace it. The Queen of Swords is a beautifully effective force to invoke during a time in your life when you must steel yourself to exact your judgment to the letter, but no matter how good it feels to wield that power, it's impossible to do so for long without experiencing heartbreak and alienation.

And now our dazzling Queen of Wands: Mary lived, ruled, and died by her passions, thus fulfilling the transformative aspects of her suit. For example, she met her executioners on the scaffold in a black gown, but disrobed to reveal a deep red garment which symbolically announced her as a martyr. It's said that in prison she embroidered the phrase "En ma Fin gît mon Commencement" ("In my end is my beginning") on her royal tapestry. This drama queen even inspired a Tarot deck portraying the events of her life, which you can glimpse here.

The Queen of Wands is not the most trustworthy character you'll ever meet, but she's so radiant and magnetic that you'd probably follow her into battle regardless. She has no time to look ahead -- she trusts that by rapidly evolving and making the most of each moment as it passes, she will always end up in the right place at the right time, and she's good enough at it that it works in her favor most of the time. That quality makes her a bewitching and inspiring presence to kindred spirits as well as more grounded individuals, but others will react with jealousy or ridicule -- not that she'll notice, or give a damn. If you happen to be charming and persuasive and have a funny way of turning what you want to do into what others want to do, then you just may have found your progenitor. But remember: when you live and govern so capriciously, any miscalculation or sudden change can knock you flat, which is exactly what happened to Mary in the end.

Two Queens, one a glittering scion of strategy and responsibility, the other a burning beacon of potential and revolution. These ladies have more in common than they'd ever believe, but their pride and their antithetical instincts will keep them from ever making that discovery. Doesn't that sound like a show you'd like to see? Get thee to the Broadhurst Theatre this spring, and watch Janet McTeer and Harriet Walter bring these two cards to life before your very eyes!

Previously On Arcanalogue: The Queen of Swords

Previously On Arcanalogue: The Queen of Wands

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"An Intuitive Link With One's Craft..."

Earlier today I quoted Waite's Pictorial Key To The Tarot for lulz, but this is a good chance to quote it for truth. Last year author Sloane Crosley promoted her new collection of humorous essays I Was Told There'd Be Cake by presenting a series of dioramas, each based on a different tale from the book. I ran across this bit on Gawker today saying that she's now auctioning off one of the dioramas to benefit Housing Works, a NYC-based charity that fights AIDS and homelessness.

Here's Waite's description of his Queen of Coins, circa 1910:

"The face suggests a dark woman, whose qualities might be summed up in the idea of greatness of soul; she has also the serious cast of intelligence; she contemplates her symbol and may see worlds therein. Divinatory Meanings: Opulence, generosity, magnificence, security, liberty."

Don't know that I have a lot to add to that, as the parallel to Crosley's photo above is incredibly apt. But I will say that I personally loved her book; it's a beautifully curated catalogue of the worldly (and often humiliating) experiences that groomed a young woman into a battle-weary New Yorker. The diorama aspect of the project certainly plays to the Martha Stewart (or Amy Sedaris, whichev) aspect of creative pragmatism and hard work that this card is known for. Her work is never done, there is always a new wrinkle -- something also signified by this Housing Works venture.

The difference between a Queen and a Princess in the Tarot boils down to the cultivation of an intuitive link with one's craft, until creation and judgment become united and are wielded almost unconsciously. Here's looking forward to more of everything, both for and from Crosley.

Previously On Arcanalogue...

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The Four Queens

Arcanalogue has come a long way in the last five months, but the more that's done, the more there is to do! Now that all four Queens have been posted, let's take them on as a posse and have a closer look at the Queens' overall function in the deck.

As many of you already know, each of the four suits corresponds to one of the four classical elements: fire, water, air, and earth. But the suits themselves subdivide, with the four court cards each corresponding to the elements too. The Queens, for example, are associated with water.

This level of reading is one that many readers never evolve past, because it starts to bring up a lot of thorny interpretive barriers. Captain Planet aside, our civilization seems to have moved on from the classical elements, so what does it mean to be "watery" and how do you articulate that in a reading without sounding like you just wandered out of Plato's cave?

At this point little Jungian psychology really starts to pay off. While concepts and definitions change over the centuries, our brain communicates symbolically, and these are preserved within our psyche. Since the dawn of time water has always presented mankind with its greatest mysteries. It was our womb as unicellular life forms, and its life-giving properties have remained priceless to us ever since we began mucking about on land, but its depths also concealed vast wonders both great and terrible, and as we evolved it became a powerful symbolic force literally built into our consciousness. This is how "water" became more than just a mere substance -- it is an energy, a vast concept containing a language all its own.

This is the aspect of consciousness that the four Queens preside over. The Queen of Wands reveals the "watery" aspects of elemental fire. How does she do this, you may ask? This is where you have to use your imagination as a card-reader. Essentially you create a Venn diagram in which the two elements overlap symbolically, and you see what is produced when they merge, how they comment on humanity, what they have in common. It's a meditative process that employs the early philosophical principles of Alchemy (but takes place on a purely conceptual level -- which means less mess to clean up, and lower risk of lead poisoning). In the case of the Queen of Wands, we look at qualities like fluidity, versatility, passion, and awareness and use them as building blocks to create an icon.

When you read descriptions of the Court cards in various Tarot books, you can usually see how an author has done this work-- it's like being able to see the lines of a sketch underneath the brush strokes of a painting. That's why the court cards tend to be the most variable from deck to deck, and why they're notoriously difficult to read -- there are fewer proper rules imposed on them. We look at them and realize they could be almost anybody, and that of course is the point.

It won't be long, however, before you'll look at a card like the Queen of Coins and immediately think "water of earth," From there it's a small step to gaining an instinctive understanding of what that means, and how it applies to the spread in front of you. Each court card is a portrait waiting to be painted or story to be told, and your unique take on them is something that will give your readings their own unique flavor. As harbingers of the unconscious, the Queens in particular are a good place to begin. Let them approach you one by one, at their own pace. Look for examples of them in the people you interact with at home, at work. You'll soon discover that you are almost always in the presence of royalty.

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Queen of Swords

While most people's attention was held hostage for weeks by the 2008 Olympics, some still trained tirelessly, hoping that their own Beijing victory awaited just around the corner. The Paralympic Games are a colossal event in which athletes with disabilities compete in modified versions of sports such as fencing, judo, and rugby. While not as intensely publicized as the Olympics, these games showcase feats of strength and dexterity that make regular sports look like lunchtime recess -- how well do you think Lionel Messi would do in a blindfolded soccer match? This year, some of the athletes even participated in a nude photo shoot, just like the UK Olympians had a few weeks earlier. Each portrait is uniquely confrontational, each an icon of both prowess and vulnerability.

Though each of the Queens in the Tarot is a powerful figure with her own gifts, the Queen of Swords is the one I'd bet on in any competition. She is often seen as a widow, and it's implied that having survived a great loss has galvanized her and sharpened her senses to a razor edge. She's particularly watchful with regards to justice and equality, and this vigilance has required her to cultivate a spirit of discipline and independence that seems almost superhuman, making her a mighty ally -- or adversary. She's shed the sprightly, impetuous nature of her Princess days and has taken center stage as an arbiter and negotiator. She is passionate, in the true nature of all Queens. However, passion often demands that one do more than just yield to it, or even wield it. This Queen has become a sword, and she points the way toward victories in which much more is at stake than mere silver or gold. [Via]

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Queen of Coins

Even Peter Pan craved a mother for himself and his tribe of Lost Boys. No matter how far we fly, we must return to earth-- and when we do, we become desperate for the comforts of that world, discovering an infant-like vulnerability that is both intensely pleasurable and intolerable.

Fortunately the Queen of Coins knows just what to do for us. She tends the hearth, shaping the material world into one that allows all her children-- all of us-- to enjoy its splendor. Don't mistake her domesticity for weakness, however. Anyone who threatens her young will find themselves facing a devastating protectress. We follow in her footsteps when we find ourselves tending our homes, our gardens, our bodies-- anything which we offer to others as a safe haven. Like the Queen, we are often too preoccupied with the task at hand to worry about the big picture-- which has its drawbacks. These heights of devotion are the cornerstone of human nature, but they also set the stage for epic proprietary battles in which our inflamed animal hearts beat their wildest tunes.

The image above is just one of Fred Einaudi's many works exploring a dream-world in which women and children experience quiet moments of reflection amidst harsh apocalyptic landscapes. How does nature decide who to shelter and who to grind down? We look at these images and hope that a mother is somewhere off-stage, waiting to take these children home.

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Queen of Wands

From Phillip Toledano's Portraits of Phone Sex Operators:

"I'm 60 years old, have a B.A. in Cultural Anthropology from Columbia University, and married for 25 years. I have a son in his last years of college who lives at home. He's a 4.0 with a double major in English Literature and Religion. Men call me for an infinity of reasons. Of course, they call to masturbate. I call it Executive Stress Relief. It's not sex; it's a cocktail of testosterone, fueled by addiction to pornography, loneliness, and the need to hear a woman's voice. I make twice the money I made in the corporate world. I work from home, the money transfers into my bank account daily. I'm Scheherezade: If I don't tell stories that fascinate the Pasha, he will kill me in the morning."

Each operator has their own story to tell, but this lady is my favorite. She reveals how cultivating an adventurous and ambitious spirit can give us the power to transform the realities of others-- which is the very essence of the Queen of Wands. The Queen is forceful but charismatic; so great are her will and passion that they can transform her into whatever kind of being the task at hand requires. Because of this she's a skilled seducer, an enchanting storyteller, and an enterprising seeker of fortune. But before you disparage her as a hustler, remember that we all strive to find or create scenarios in which we're likely to thrive and flourish; she's just better at it than most. Some people use this skill to become civic leaders or social advocates, others shine on stage and screen, and still others simply wind up with a knack for keeping money and attention heading their way at all times. Some do all three! Instead of judging her or feeling envious, why not see what you can learn from her instead? I've heard she is susceptible to flattery... [Via]

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Queen of Cups

In the late 1880's, the body of a young woman was pulled out of the Seine. Ruled a suicide (jumping into the Seine was a common method among the broken-hearted), her unidentified body was given a pauper's burial-- but not before her beatific expression inspired the undertaker to cast a death-mask from her face. As years went by, copies of the mask began to circulate throughout bohemian Paris, and L'inconnue de la Seine became a famous icon of tragic romance, her face peering from the walls and souvenir shops all over Europe. Her mask inspired works by many artists, including Nabokov and Rilke-- many girls even modeled their appearance after her, moved by her mysterious beauty.

Does she look familiar to you yet? When toymaker Asmund Laerdal was commissioned to craft the dummy that would be used to teach CPR techniques, he modeled the face after L'inconnue de la Seine. "Resusci Anne", is still used in CPR training to this day; you've probably tried to rescue her yourself. Laerdal's design not only breathed new life into a beloved legend, it also ensured that this broken-hearted heroine would become the most kissed girl in the world.

The Queen of Cups is a similarly elusive, emotional figure. She may seem quite remote, perhaps even delusional, but approach her and you'll discover that her perception knows no boundaries. Adrift in dreams and visions, she rules by the unlikely power of her intuition, and is an obliging and devoted advisor. Her revelations may not be based on any reality that you recognize, but by allowing yourself to be drawn into an enchanting, primordial state, you may find that your mind and heart function more naturally when flooded by her otherworldly undercurrents. Like L'inconnue, her face will continue resurfacing from the dark waters of time and memory, beckoning and breathing secret messages of love and redemption when you least expect it.

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