By Sarah Taylor
The Five of Swords is an interesting card. The smallest element in the picture has the ability to evoke the strongest emotion in me: That of the hunched figure in the distant middle-ground. He is the last figure that my eyes tend to see, having first met with the man in the foreground before moving across to the figure at his right, back to us and cloak slung over his shoulder. Finally, there he stands, as if held in place by the tip of the cross-guard in the main figure’s right hand.
And in a sense he is held in place, vanquished it seems after some kind of skirmish. He is skewered by — what? Grief? Remorse? Shame? Defeat hangs over him, much like the clouds, jagged tears in the fabric of a blue sky that looks as if it, too, has been rent by a blade. Strangely, the seas are calm. They, and the concrete surface in the foreground, remind me of the Two of Swords. Except now there is no peace, no alliance. The swords, crossed in the Two, have been drawn and added to, and someone is hurting, if not physically then mentally. Perhaps emotionally, too, but there is no place for emotions here — no way to comfortably deal with them. The figure is alone with his predicament.
What of the figure in the foreground? Is he one of those who was involved? Or is he simply there to pick up after them? Given that he is wearing similar clothing to the other two figures, I take him to be a participant — and a victorious one at that. His flame-like hair and pointed features paint him as impish, at best relishing his victory, at worst gloating at those who have lost. The Five of Swords to me is about opportunism and a lack of grace: Not only does he choose to express joy in the face of others’ loss; he adopts a ‘winner takes all’ stance and claims the swords for himself. This is the mental domination of one person over another — where intellect and analysis become weapons, the victim rendered powerless, isolated.