While you would THINK this was a typical tarot deck, it is not – this deck has 97 cards instead of 78, and started out as a game of tricks, played in northern Italy. The symbolism is also different in many respects than other decks people are used to seeing. Fascinating deck of cards. Trying to decide how to make best use of them; or interpret cards that I’ve never seen before.
The one I frowned at was the Magus. "Frowned" not in the sense that I didn’t like it, but in the sense that I didn’t understand it. I’m familiar with the powerful Magus of, say, the Thoth deck, or even the Rider Waite, although THAT Magus always looked too young and inexperienced and the infinity sign over his head looked like the path of cartoonish birds flying in circles and tweeting up there, making him look dazed and confused instead of all wise and powerful.The Magus, as I’ve mentioned before, shows up in my own readings quite frequently. I could shuffle the deck for hours on end, and still get the Magus in consecutive readings, because as I said, it’s the card representing Mr. Signpost. Every time I get the card, I know that I’m going to be sent flying off on a fact-finding mission because of something he wrote or tweeted. Basically it means: "Pay attention. You’re about to learn something." And it hasn’t failed me yet.
But THIS guy, the Minchiate Magus ... I had no idea what to make of him. First, they don’t identify him as a Magus, but instead as a giocoliere, a juggler, except he’s not juggling anything. He looks seriously cranky, for one thing – which I’m OK with – but the turban: is he supposed to be from the far east? One of the original Magi? And who are the other two characters who look so afraid of him? He almost looks like he’s poisoning them.
Minchiate Drama in Three Lines
Giocoliere/Juggler: (sotto voce) Psst! Here. Drink this foul brew and don’t ask questions.
Man #1: No, no, you can’t make me! (*sob*!) ...
Man #2: Yes, he can make you drink that, he can bewitch you into drinking it! He’s a ... juggler!
See? The whole thing makes no sense. If anyone out there has experience with this deck ... I’m all ears.
In my previous post I had mentioned discovering a symbol, and then never described it. I was actually intending to describe a cimaruta ("sprig of rue" ). I’d discovered it in the book on Italian witches, and wanted to get more information on the protective or homeopathic properties of rue.
I ended up in a state of rage. Picture it: 2012. The Internet. A search for "rue" using Google. Result: innumerable cooking sites. Woman #1 perkily announces she uses vegetable broth to make her "rue" for turkey gravy – and why she’s doing that I have no idea. She can’t be a vegetarian, or why would she be having turkey? Woman #2 cheerfully burbles that she’s always wanted to try using vegetable broth for her "rue". This goes on for comment after comment, reply after reply, each dumb woman using the word "rue" for the same gravy base until steam is coming out of my ears. Wait for it ...! The emotional OCD meltdown is coming ... NOW:
"AAARRRGGGHHH!!!! NO, NO, NO, NO! YOU STUPID NINNIES!! YOU ILLITERATE COWS!! "Rue" is an herb!! "Roux" is the flour-butter gravy base! RUE HERB! ROUX GRAVY!" How did this country manage to churn out so many bleeding fools?? No, I am NOT going to calm down!! These women are IDIOTS! BIRDBRAINS! EMPTY-HEADED BUFFOONS! Shoot them! Kill them! Put them in a stew! To start the stew, use a ROUX! Want some flavor? Add some RUE! (Clutching head, running around in crazed circles screaming, "I’m surrounded by idiots! I’m drowning in a sea of stupidity! And these dimwits are raising children!! We are all doooomed!!!" until shot with a tranquilizer dart. Regains consciousness an hour later).Okay, I’m back.
The Italian Cimaruta, or Witch’s Charm is a charm that Frederich Elworth (
http://www.sacred-texts.com/evil/tee/tee14.htm) dates back to the Etruscans or the early Phoenicians, based upon an amulet located in the museum in Bologna. The name means "sprig of rue" – which it is – and from the rue branches at each end is a sprout; out of the sprout comes forth symbols such as a key, dagger, blossom, and moon. The Cimaruta was often placed above the beds of infants, as protection against the "mal'occhio" or evil eye. I’m told it is a very traditional gift for new mothers to hang over babies’ cribs in southern Italy – I just thought it was beautiful!As I said, Lammas falls on Wednesday of this week, so I’m having two specifically Lammas-style feasts: one this weekend, and the second next weekend. Today’s feast is Mushroom-Barley-Wild Rice soup and a carambola for dessert. I have never tasted a star fruit before, so this should be interesting. Next week: corn fritters! I’m also going to try to make some of the mezzaluna cakes and see what they taste like.
I found this poem which I liked, mainly because he’s something like Damien in his love for the fall and winter weather, rather than moping around when fall creeps around the corner. The poet, by the way, lived in Connecticut from 1796 to 1828, and no doubt enjoyed the New England fall colors. I thought I’d publish it here and dedicate it to Mr. Signpost, the guy who’s hanging on by his fingernails, waiting for Halloween to arrive.
The Indian Summer
By John G. C. Brainard
WHAT is there saddening in the Autumn leaves?
Have they that "green and yellow melancholy"
That the sweet poet spake of?—Had he seen
Our variegated woods, when first the frost
Turns into beauty all October’s charms—
When the dread fever quits us—when the storms
Of the wild Equinox, with all its wet,
Has left the land, as the first deluge left it,
With a bright bow of many colors hung
Upon the forest tops—he had not sigh’d.
The moon stays longest for the Hunter now:
The trees cast down their fruitage, and the blithe
And busy squirrel hoards his winter store:
While man enjoys the breeze that sweeps along
The bright blue sky above him, and that bends
Magnificently all the forest’s pride,
Or whispers through the evergreens, and asks,
"What is there saddening in the Autumn leaves?"
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