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.
I’ve spent a lot of time on one particular card — so what happens when we start to look at it in context with the accompanying two cards, the King of Cups and the Page of Pentacles?
Both of these cards not only flank the Five of Swords; they are court cards, each embodying a particular human incarnation of the quality of its suit. The Page is the more immature court card and has a closer visual association with the main figure in the Five of Swords — my eye keeps drawing parallels between the two — which makes him a logical first port-of-call. Both figures are dressed in green tunics and brown boots, with strong accents of red (shared by the King), and both seem to be relatively young.
Moreover, their energies are young: There is the callousness of the figure in the Five, and the awe of the Page — both of which have the ability to shut down a sense of reciprocity between subject and environment. Callousness precludes the ability to empathise, while awe negates the idea of equality: The Page has not yet struck a reciprocal relationship with his pentacle. Unlike the Queen and the King, who have internalised the quality of their suit, the Page sees his pentacle as ‘other’; he can barely believe he is holding it. Add to this the preponderance of gold-yellow in the card, and in an instant, my mind’s eye had conjured up an image of Gollum, ring-entranced, uttering the words “My precious!”
Is the Page mature enough to look after what he holds carefully? Can he appreciate what it is that it is offering him? Can he assume full responsibility for its possession? It is only once we have accepted the quest of the soul and embarked on the journey of the Knight, fought demons and dragons, slayed old kings, confronted the night, that we become fit to rule our domains and to approach our powers with neither doubt, nor awe, but a calm resolution. Remember: Gollum was possessed by The Ring, and not the other way around. The Page has yet to learn self-possession — a quality in short supply in the Five of Swords.
Finally, I look to the King of Cups. Interestingly, I see parallels between him and the figure in the Five too: The cut of the jaw, and the straight, strong nose. But the similarity ends there. The King holds a cup and a sceptre, but at the expense of no-one. He doesn’t gloat — nor is he in awe of them, looking ahead as he does with impassivity and gravitas. Yes, his is the domain of emotions, but he isn’t ruled by them, feels no need to dominate them. He co-exists with them. The seas are alive, moving, carrying life and commerce. At the midst of all this, he sits — ‘of’ the water, but not in it.
Is the King’s platform the higher ground that we seek in this reading — ironic as that may be considering its placement in the waves? Is that in fact what is key here — those waves? That water, connecting us to our feelings; the undulations of emotion that might rock the boat from time to time, but which remind us that we are, indeed, part of something vital, living, mysterious. Unlike thoughts, which are by nature conscious, feelings connect us to the depths of the unknown and unknowable. Can we find a home in that watery landscape of the King of Cups? And if we could, what, if anything, might change in the images of the other two cards before us? Maybe we need change nothing. Maybe it is we, as spectators, who have the option to change how we see things, and where we choose to put our energy.
If you want to experiment with tarot cards and don’t have any, we provide a free tarot spread generator using the Celtic Wings spread, which is based on the traditional Celtic Cross spread. This article explains how to use the spread.
oh and happy, happy birthday, dear A Word. Have loads of fun, fun, fun 😉
aword – that’s just what happens sometimes. Maybe go with it and see what happens … or, perhaps, take a counter-intuitive and perhaps more challenging look at tarot, where things don’t seem to be flowing smoothly, because maybe you’re at the edge of a breakthrough, and at that point things can seem far more ‘against the flow’.
(Did I read it was your birthday somewhere? If so: Happy Birthday!)
Hi Sarah. Just wanted to say “thanks” for your continuing articles. I’m feeling like I’m gaining ground in understanding astrology recently while the tarot symbolism fails me. Guess for now it’s a chew gum or walk kind of thing? haha. Thanks for being here and I’m sure the teeter will totter.
Thank you, all, for your valuable and moving contributions. What you all bring to a reading, too, is what will be most meaningful — for you, and for others.
Maria — your poem is beautiful, and spoke volumes to me. I want to read it again, and again. I will re-read it tomorrow and see what it brings to me.
Patty — I have hope for a new energy. I was following the Irish project, Steorn, that was dealing with magnetics, and I still think it might bear fruit.
Burning River — I love your interpretation of the Page in a new light.
Huffy — my thoughts are with you and your courageous friend.
Rob — just thank you. 🙂
Tarot is a cover version of a song we’ve never heard; and Sarah sings it so, so well.
Wow. Sarah. I had to sit with this one for quite a while, meditating and reading my own Tarot interpretation books, and now am amazed at what your spread has delineated for me: as usual, my present life.
This is my personal reading: strong, dominating emotions, but under the rulership of Divine Order have been involved in creating a messy battle scene. Really, no one has “won” in any sense of earthly good or benefit (gloating is not a benefit to the gloater or gloatee), but there is hope to me in the Page’s looking up at what IS in hand. “What good can we make of this?’ is the question he poses to me. Out of messy confusion, there is still the open door to the unknown, but positive, life-enhancing future for us all.
Wow.
Thank you. My words can’t really express my appreciation for your spreads, and you help with interpretation.
Just re-read your poem, Maria – there’s finally some peace and quiet, a car alarm had been going since 9 pm last night till 10 this morning! All of it’s wonderful but these lines gave me such joy – reminded me of old sea shanties and celtic songs I used to bash out on the guitar,when I was a lass, with my sisters singing along
Today, I found
A world from sundown to dawn, time
For one lover, two bottles, three songs—
I keep accounts, pile seconds into stacks. Pisces is really working his stuff!
“It is only once we have accepted the quest of the soul and embarked on the journey of the Knight, fought demons and dragons, slayed old kings, confronted the night, that we become fit to rule our domains and to approach our powers with neither doubt, nor awe, but a calm resolution”. This is the most beautiful description I’ve ever read of this process dear Sarah! It made me think about my own journey , but also about my dear friend who I mentioned on these pages, who recently found out that he has leukemia and is being bombarded with chemotherapy right now. Yet a spiritual transformation has taken place in him – he is serene and calm, and has woken up to what and who really matters in his life – and has finally decided to take his enormous spirituality seriously. Thank you Sarah. And thank you for your beautiful poem, Maria.
Thank you maria. I always enjoy reading your work, and gleaning your impressions. “Gleaning like vultures!” We’ve been doing that for thousands of years haven’t we? It is what ties us together, yet the more persistent gleaners will have more to either share or withhold. As with nearly everything we encounter in life, here is a blessing or a curse. Choice is ours.
i took both of the other figures to be “gleaners” in the battlefield. the main one has just gotten over his misery at what he does and figured out how to make it work for him. i never noticed how this page has the same look to him as some of the “tricky” guys in the minor. i always think of swords as having to do with time. like this:
Five of Swords
Beating Time
Each sword a slice of time,
It’s mine, it’s mine, an hour
You left behind, dropped and ran
Into the smoke, into the slime.
Whole days once yours I now possess.
They call us vultures when we glean
The fields for the fallen. Sometimes
Those I step around are still alive. Today, I found
A world from sundown to dawn, time
For one lover, two bottles, three songs—
I keep accounts, pile seconds into stacks.
The oracle said to find time I must be clever;
I will be clever, leave off
Fear or feeling my own wounds.
A chunk of iron to a wing,
Black feathers fly loose,
No matter, no time:
I see another minute
You let fall,
And now it’s mine.
A couple of weeks ago some people on this blog were saying we should peddle our bicycles to build our power (energy) reserves instead of relying on oil. I choose to believe that alternatives are freely available if we just look, and stop hindering science. Look what’s going on in Australia. A single atom transistor!
http://news.cnet.com/8301-11386_3-57380455-76/single-atom-transistor-built-with-precise-control/?fb_ref=fbrecT&fb_source=home_multiline
At first I was drawn to interpret Swords as reflecting the aftermath of interpersonal drama–a power play between separate characters. A second perspective is as three aspects of one being: Shadow (foreground), self wounded as consequence of Shadow dynamic (background), and a rather enigmatic figure emerging from the conflict, and leaving it behind (midground).