I’ve written in the past about language and magic. How there are strong parallels throughout history between language, magic, and divination. Apollo, Greek god of the sun, ruled over both poetry and prophecy. Odin, the all-father of the Norse pantheon, presided over poetry, sorcery, and ecstatic trance – and received the runes of the futhark alphabet. Again and again we see magic, prophecy, and writing bound up together.
This is hardly surprising, given how deeply language and cognition are linked. Language shapes the very way we conceive of the world. The Kuuk Thaayorre language spoken in Pormpuraaw has no conception of relative spatial terms such as left and right. Instead everything is described in absolute directions (i.e. “pick up the ball to the south-east”). 1 Native speakers of this language are, understandably, phenomenally good at keeping themselves oriented in space. It’s a necessity built into the language itself.
Closer to home, the psychological discipline of cognitive behavioral therapy works by reframing a patient’s internal monologue to eliminate dysfunctional patterns. By changing the language we are using to think through a situation, we can dramatically alter our feelings about – and reaction to – that situation.
So far so good, but why am I bringing this up? Because, while it is somewhat less obvious, divination is also subject to this effect; sortilege systems are themselves languages. Each system consists of a finite set of symbols, with generally understood meanings, that can be positioned and combined to convey complex information.
And, because these systems work like languages, they have differently scoped and specialized vocabularies. Like the (apocryphal) Inuit language with forty words for snow, these vocabularies make certain systems adept at conveying some types of information, and less suited for others. Just as with language itself, the vocabulary we are using to obtain information influences how we are conceiving of a situation and the possible outcomes available to us. Different divination systems thus have different “characters,” if you will.
This has been pretty abstract so far, let’s look at some concrete examples, starting with tarot cards. The tarot is a relatively large symbol set, made up of 78 distinct cards (156 possibilities, with reversals). Combined with different spreads assigning special meanings to cards in particular positions, this allows for a huge range of interactions. It is also (at least in the Rider-Waite-Smith version) a system densely coded with esoteric symbolism. It is easily able to convey information about magic, psychology, and spiritual development. If you’re looking to divine on topics related to spiritual growth, tarot is hard to beat. This esoteric depth comes at the expense of pragmatism. Tarot spreads are a little like wizards: they speak in poetry, riddle, and metaphor, and don’t always come right out and say what they mean.
Let’s contrast that to a different system: divination by playing cards. There are dozens of different systems for assigning meaning to playing cards, coming out of different folk traditions, but they have some commonalities. For starters, it’s a dramatically reduced symbol set; playing cards come in a smaller deck and have no reversals, so you’re looking at only 52 possible “words” (or 54 with jokers). Second, because playing card divination comes out of folk magic, the meanings assigned to these cards tend to be concrete and concerned with mundane life: work, finances, love, and relationships.
Say you’re waiting on important information (test results, college acceptance letters, etc.) and want to see how the situation will evolve over the next week. With tarot, you might draw a card like the Page of Swords reversed. That could mean delays in communication, crossed wires, defensiveness, or communication that is vague or deceptive. How do you interpret that in relation to your situation? There are a couple possibilities that seem more likely, but it is – on its face – a little cryptic.
In contrast, the system of meanings I use for playing card divination has a specific card (the Four of Diamonds) that can mean “closed purse” or “no news.” That’s pretty hard to misinterpret: you’re not going to be hearing one way or the other this week.
At the risk of anthropomorphizing things that are very much not human: tarot is more like a spiritual guru, giving you rich koans where you need to puzzle through multiple layers of meaning. Playing cards are more like a no-nonsense friend, who isn’t shy about smacking you upside the head with an uncomfortable truth when needed. Both are incredibly valuable to have in your life, but the contexts where they really shine are different. And that’s just tarot and playing cards. I’ve been discussing these two systems, because those are the ones I’m most familiar with, but runes or geomantic figures or oracle decks will all have their own unique flavors as well.
All of this to say it’s worth experimenting with different divination systems. If you’ve tried one and gotten sub-par results, try something else. There might be a better fit for you, and the kinds of questions you expect to be asking. Just be prepared that it will take some time to get fluent in any new system. It is, after all, a language.
- Boroditsky, L. (2024, February 20). How Language Shapes Thought. Scientific American. https://www.scientificamerican.com/article/how-language-shapes-thought/
↩︎
Leave a Reply