Death: The “Bad Neighbor”
UPDATE: As expected, this pushed a lot of buttons in the online tarot world. Almost everyone missed the point that it is a radical rethinking (in this one narrow instance) of tarot divination in which I’m not interested so much in what will happen and its consequences as in actively using the cards as a tool for self-realization. In that sense, “Hopes” has been decoupled from its focus on potentially harsh realities and is instead used as a way to project the “best-case scenario.” I would surmise that it’s why Eden Gray split off “Fears” in the first place, since the Celtic Cross offers plenty of other opportunities to accentuate the negative.
AUTHOR’S NOTE: Further insights from The Grand Etteilla as applied to the Celtic Cross (CC) spread. As I read it, the “bad neighbor” of the title does not refer only to readings involving a physical “next-door-neighbor,” but instead describes the deleterious effect of Death on any adjacent cards in a spread. Some who have commented seem to believe the former.
Here I’m narrowly focusing on Eden Gray’s description of the ninth position of the CC as “Hopes” (or “that which we most desire out of a situation”). If we’re in an especially bad place, a difficult card like Death in its modern guise of “major transformation” might fit that agenda, but in Etteilla’s time it didn’t seem to have that connotation. Recognize that my thinking on this is highly nuanced, sensitive to historical precedent and kind of “up in the ozone” (and I haven’t been smoking anything). Back on Aeclectic Tarot, Andy Boroveshengra (probably coming from a TdM perspective with a nod to Lenormand) once slyly quipped that, while the primary meaning of Death is “an ending,” rotting in the ground certainly results in a “big transformation.”
In reading about the Grand Etteilla “Death” card I came across the idea that the card is considered a “bad neighbor” when it appears in a spread where it can “interfere with” the reading by tainting the adjacent cards with its negative presence (in my argument here I would submit that it obstructs the purpose). Therefore, it is to be removed whenever it shows up in this light. (I don’t recall reading whether it should be replaced with another card, but Etteilla’s system is so fluid and involves so many cards that I can’t imagine it matters much.) This oddball notion strikes me as close kin to the idea of “strictures against judgement” in horary astrology; when you get one you refrain from interpreting the horoscope. Because I have my sitters shuffle the deck, they arrange the cards for the reading in the first place, so it becomes a matter of how to read an unfortunate card in the ninth position as an expression of their “hopes.” I would take my cue from the querent regarding whether to treat it as such. (I might ask “Is there something or someone you would like to see disappear from your life? Here is one way it could be accomplished.”)
This was certainly a new one on me, but it’s an intriguing notion. I would never in a million years have dreamed of tampering with a spread by excising any unfavorable omens; I subscribe to the view that the instant of the draw is “sacred” and only the cards pulled can precisely satisfy the objective of the reading. But let’s stop and think about it for a moment. If the tarot is a tool to help us shape our own future, why should we tolerate anything in the reading that lobbies strenuously against the successful achievement of that goal? Rather than letting Fate toy with us in this way (D’Odoucet termed it the “roguery of fate”), why not give it our demands and expect to be served? This isn’t exactly the Law of Attraction; we don’t simply make our desire known to the Universe and hold out our hand but rather take an aggressive stance where we envision a better reality and strive to create it.
I’ve already gone part-way there with my approach to the Celtic Cross spread, where I substituted “Aspirations” for Eden Gray’s “Hopes” title to better describe the things we not only crave but are willing to work to acquire. (I call the ninth position the “Root of Self-Motivation.”) In this position of the spread, which is supposed to shine a light on our brightest prospects, I can certainly see bumping a relatively hopeless card and pulling another that is more forgiving and also more constructive to replace it. Think of it as an “automatic clarifier” that is only permitted when the above situation pertains. The more I ponder it, the more this adjustment makes sense since it removes the ambiguity of the “bad card in a good position” conundrum in this particular instance.
The ninth is the sole position of the CC with which I would use it, and I would apply the option with great care. Only when one of the acknowledged “nasties” shows up (as in “something we don’t intend to suffer in our ‘ideal world’”) would its use be indicated. Depending on the deck, I’m thinking Death, Devil, Tower, Moon, Hanged Man, 10 of Swords, 9 of Swords, 8 of Swords, 5 of Swords, 3 of Swords, 8 of Cups, 5 of Cups, 5 of Pentacles and 5 of Wands. While these cards may have redeeming qualities, none of them is anyone’s idea of a state we would avidly pursue — or even consider — as an “aspiration,” and their inclusion in the “Hopes and Wishes” scenario would be entirely unproductive. The moderately inauspicious Major Arcana can be worked with, as well as the more “neutral” Minor Arcana. The court cards are inherently unbiased and would not be handled in this manner. Optimistically, I might be tempted to apply this concept to other spreads down the road.
The premise would be to pull another card or cards until one that is borderline or better shows up; this alternate approach will entertain any card that could be considered a reasonable goal, even if at first it’s a stretch to comprehend its value. Not all of use are looking for the easy way out; a manageable challenge can be invigorating and exactly what we want or even need under the circumstances. I would then read the position as it was intended (at least in my personal CC model). Attempting to transform a traditionally ominous card into an advantageous (or at least innocuous) one through intuitive redefinition (call it “symbol-sense disambiguation”) amounts to the old “sow’s-ear-and-silk-purse” dilemma: for example, trying to convince someone that the ruinous intensity of the Tower is something they should welcome and encourage can be a hard sell (even the unruly Mars energy of the 7 of Wands would be an improvement). It’s simply too much wasted effort when, as the old Maine humorist once said “You can’t get there from here” (at least not without applying a lot of convoluted “pretzel logic”).
Originally published at http://parsifalswheeldivination.wordpress.com on September 28, 2022.
