The deck of playing cards has an elaborate structure, capable of communicating a symbolic code, just as a language does. The suit and rank of each card define a specific position in the grid, resembling in this way the coordinates of a mapping system. Games and techniques of divination are both based on the random selection of certain cards or groups of cards with which value or other specific significance is associated.
Some structural
characteristics are undeniable, chief among them the four suits and thirteen
ranks [1]. An initial division produces
the colors, red and black. Each of these
then splits again, producing the four suits which show only a small deviation
through the centuries and the countries of Europe, where, doubtless due to
increased trade with Egypt and the East, they had first appeared shortly before
the Renaissance.
Considered
diachronically, a session with playing cards, whether recreational or
fortune-telling, presents a sort of
table model of fate, in which each player receives a certain destiny in the
deal. In a worthwhile game, the player’s
outcome will depend in part on skill
just as in cartomancy the subtlety of the practitioner is often decisive. Receiving a strong or weak hand parallels
being born into affluence or poverty, health or disability, though a vulnerable
position can sometimes come out ahead through bluffing or other strategy. Fortune-telling differs only in that the
implications are made explicit with the occult practitioners defining the specifics they find implied by a
particular array of cards. Like a life,
the game or the session with a “reader/advisor” has a beginning and an end with
victories and defeats between. The cards
allow players to experience a variety of such brief imaginary lives
recreationally or, if the players are gambling, with some real consequences
reflecting the symbolic ones.
Synchronically, the array of possibilities in
a deck of cards is designed as a universal symbolic system, like the catalogue
of possibilities available in the divination tools offered by astrology, I
Ching, the Ifa oracle, and the like.
The more elaborate mahjong set of tiles evolved from playing cards, with
possibilities far beyond a simple set of dominos. [2] Many
have noted the numerological correspondence of playing cards with the passage
of a year: fifty-two cards and fifty-two weeks, four suits and four seasons,
thirteen of each suit and the thirteen lunar months, two colors corresponding
to night and day, yet these associations are in general an indication of their encyclopedic
comprehensiveness rather than a specific and determined signification. To
some the suits possess differing inherent worth. For instance, in bridge the lowest is clubs,
followed by diamonds, hearts, and spades.
The face values
playing cards are fixed, representing an increasing series from two to ten,
then ascending further through the face cards.
The ranks prima facie indicate a differentiation in worth, and
the face cards clearly refer to the stratification of feudal society, with the
numbered cards representing the lower tiers of society. The deck then forms an image of “the great
chain of being” or scala naturae, as it was more commonly called in
Latin. [3] The deck arrived in Europe
from the Mamluk Sultanate where the face cards were all male, with an “under-deputy” (thānī nā'ib)
in the place now occupied by the queen, a pattern reflected in the German decks
with an “Obermann” and a lower status Untermann).. In some Italian decks the place is held by a
knight (cavallo).
In some games, of
course, and in particular when using the cards to tell fortunes, every rank
must have associated meanings. Any
number of modern occultists have specified such adventitious significance. For instance, one popular book, written seventy-five years ago yet currently available
at Wal-Mart and Target, says that the three indicates happiness, the seven spirituality, and the nine
humanitarianism. [4] All codes, however,
of this sort are arbitrarily assigned.
This very susceptibility to a variety of interpretations indicates the
cards’ underdetermination, allowing the same deck to be used in an endless variety of ways. Specific cards share with Symbolist images a
fruitful imprecision conducive to a broad range of interpretations.
The four suits
have varied surprisingly little since they came to Europe from the Mamluk
Sultanate in the fourteenth century. Originally
the suits of the Mamluk cards were cups, coins, swords, and polo-sticks. Virtually all suits since have been minor
variations of these four. The swords, in
Spanish espadas, became spades, the cups turned to hearts, the coins to
diamonds, and, since polo was not a significant game in Europe, the last suit
was changed to lances or clubs. The familiar
English set corresponds closely with the suits used in early fifteenth century
France, while the Tarot suits are closer to the Muslim model. Arriving in Britain through Belgium In the
passage from Belgium to England the French suits piques (pikes), as coeurs
(hearts), carreaux (tiles, “lozenges”), and trefles
(clovers) became the modern hearts,
spades, diamonds, and clubs. In Spain
and parts of Italy and France the naibi
deck [5] came into use using cups (copas), coins (oros),
swords (espadas), and clubs (bastos), the only difference being
that in Italy the clubs are ceremonial batons, whereas in Spain they are crude cudgels
like Hercules carried. In Germany and
other parts of central Europe the suits are leaves (Grün, Blatt, Laub,
Pik or Gras), hearts (Herz or Rot), bells (Schelle,
Schell or Bolle) and acorns (Eichel or Kreuz),
The most profound
explanation of the origin of the playing card suits was suggested over a
hundred years ago by Jessie Weston. [5] She
argues that the suits correspond as a group to both the treasures of the Tuatha
de Danaan and the objects displayed in the Grail castle. Links between the magic objects of ancient
Celtic lore [6] (the Sword of Nuada, the Lia Fáil or Stone of Destiny, the
Spear of Lugh, and the Cauldron of the Dagda) and the numinous objects seen in
the Grail castle (the Grail itself -- either Cup or Dish, the Sword, the Stone,
and the Lance) certainly have remarkable similarity to the naibi suits
(cups, swords, coins, and clubs), but Weston felt that both were themselves
developments of a more archaic significance.
To her behind the set are elemental sexual symbols through which people
sought to encourage abundance and fertility through a ἱερός γάμος, a sacred
marriage, that ensures the continuity of life.
For her the suits
evolved from a pair of sexual symbols, doubled then to make four; lance and
sword are clearly the male components, dish and cup the female. While Weston and others of the Cambridge
group doubtless over-emphasized the centrality of re-energizing the “spirit if
the year,” the religio-magical motive of
promoting the fruitfulness of the earth and the prosperity of the human
community is evident world-wide.
The origin of the
images and their later resonance and reception need not be consistent. In fact, the durability of a symbol may well
benefit from its underdetermination. A
great many interpretive schemes have been applied to them, but all of these are
secondary, afterthoughts in a way to the original promotion of life for which
they were first intended. Sometimes the
red cards were associated with beneficence and the black with threats. To some the suits suggested the four
elements, to others the cardinal directions.
They have been associated as well with the social classes: hearts (once
cups or chalices) suggesting the clergy, spades (once swords) indicating the
nobility, diamonds (once coins) for those engaged in commerce, and clubs (once
crude wooden ones like Hercules’) for the peasantry.
Specific figures
from history and legend were sometimes identified with individual cards: the
king of spades being pictured as the Biblical David, that of hearts as
Charlemagne, diamonds as Julius Caesar, and clubs as Alexander, thus
encompassing the known world with the lands of Jews, Franks, Romans, and Greeks.
The queens were identified with Athena (spades),
Judith (hearts), Jacob's wife Rachel (diamonds), and Argine, an anagram for regina
(clubs), while the jacks were Charlemagne’s knight Ogier (spades); La Hire,
a general in the Hundred Years’ War (hearts), the Trojan Hector (diamonds); and
Lancelot or Judas Maccabeus (clubs).
The significance
of the cards is determined strictly by the rules of the game. Thus queen of spades in the game of hearts is
undesirable, trumps in bridge make a good hand, and any two pair will beat a
couple of aces in poker. The flow of the
arrival of such cards, meaningful only within the compass of a game, constructs
an experience resembling the recognition of motifs in a musical composition, a
fugue or symphony, but there is an
important difference. Every note of The
Well-Tempered Klavier is intentional, chosen by Bach, whereas the cards
should appear without any conscious design. [8] The loss in “beauty” due to chance composition
is compensated by the fact that the card table more nearly replicates the
unpredictability of life itself. Apart
from dependence on chance, the play of the game brings good or ill or middling
fortune just as in life. The value of
speculating on the cards of one’s fellow-players likewise resembles the prudent
conduct of worldly affairs in which the estimation of the power of rivals may
be relevant.
The card game is
wholly ludic, just for the fun of it, like the delights and disappointments
vicariously undergone by the film viewer.
Yet a hand in cards is marvelously abstract, given meaning only by the specific
terms of a given game. Adeptness at the
manipulation of symbols is the most distinctive human characteristic, doubtless
the source of our species’ success, if success it be, and playing cards allow
people to develop, but more importantly, to relish this skill in concert with
others. Dog owners cannot doubt that a dog
in play, exercising canine athletic and perceptual abilities, is having a grand
time. A table of suburban bridge players
may be doing very much the same in human terms.
1. I say nothing
about the Tarot since, in spite of enthusiasts fond of claiming ancient and
exotic origins for the deck, these have been shown to be a variation of the
older deck. In spite of its portentous
images, the Tarot deck was developed in fifteenth century Italy for the game trionfi
and exclusively used for games until several hundred years later when its use
in divination began.
2. The first references
to Chinese card-like game pieces called pái (牌) (a term that could
apply to either tiles or cards) date from the ninth century C. E. describing
the use of inscribed paper “leaves” and dice in a board game. Playing cards are known there from circa 1200
C. E.
3. See Arthur O.
Lovejoy’s classic study The Great Chain of Being. For an early exposition of the scala
naturae, ranking animals by their apparent complexity, see Aristotle’s Historia
Animalia.
4. Edith Randall and
Florence Evylinn Campbell, Sacred Symbols of the Ancients: The Mystical
Significance of the Fifty-two Cards (1947).
Randall and Campbell mention as their source Olney Richmond who claimed
to revive a 20,000-year-old tradition in Chicago in 1888.
5. The word naibi,
of Arabic origin, was used in the original statute mentioning cards in
fifteenth century Florence and it is used yet today of the Spanish deck, the baraja
Española.
6. In Ch. 6 of Ritual
to Romance (1920). While it is true
that Weston ‘s readership is the result of T. S. Eliot featuring her in the
footnotes to The Waste Land and that the Cambridge School as a whole has
lost authority, her work, like that of Jane Harrison and Frazer himself, is
replete with fruitful observations. The
fact that Weston was susceptible to the occultists of her day whom she liked to
think the latest in a lineage descending from ancient esoteric masters does not
invalidate her every conclusion. Even
the connections she traces between the treasures of the Tuatha de Danaan, the
Grail objects, and the suits is also unnecessary to accept her fundamental idea
that spade, hearts, diamonds, and clubs have sexual connotations.
7. The treasures
appear in an interpolated recension of the legendary Lebor Gabála Érenn
(The Book of the Taking of Ireland), the same passage introduction,
interpolated in the introduction of Cath Maige Tuired (The
Second Battle of Mag Tuired), and in "The Four Jewels", a later,
short text in the Yellow Book of Lecan.
8. Some works of
Cage, Stockhausen, and other aleatory composers constitute at least in part an
exception.
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