By Sarah Taylor
This is an archetypal tale of a beautiful but shallow existence yet to be tested; an ensuing time of trial and the plunge within; and the re-emergence of the light that shines on a landscape that offers greater potential than before, where the protagonist — that’s you — has the chance to create something new, knowing more now than you did before.
I know that some tarot readers see the Nine of Pentacles as an entirely positive card. I tend not to approach it in this way. The reason for this is down to two creatures that inhabit the picture with the lady of the manor: the falcon, and the snail.
The woman we see is richly dressed, and her hand rests on the upper-most of nine pentacles gathered around her skirts. She seemingly wants for nothing. She has material wealth, and the world around her is fecund, offering its bounty in the form of grapes, a source of food and drink. It’s all very shiny. But it is laid on thickly: the yellow feels oppressive; so much richness has created a sense of jaundice.
The woman looks to her left at a falcon. Both mistress and bird wear red headdresses. The falcon, a raptor who in its untamed state can fly free, has become a bird in a gilded cage. As has its owner. She is weighed down by her material possessions, which have defined who she is. She can no longer fly free either. Woman and bird; one and the same.
The snail tells a different story. It is a small but indescribably precious blight on an otherwise perfect landscape. The snail is a speck of chaos, something that doesn’t fit in and is not held to the same rules. It is what we tend to want to discard from our gardens because it lays waste to what we hold dear: those things we have grown and cultivated. The snail has no interest in the figures that tower above it. It has no need of the kind of high-maintenance possessions to which they have become accustomed. It carries its home wherever it goes, and it asks for little in the way of food and shelter. It is unfettered.