This article continues my series examining the trumps of the Tarot de Marseille, adapted from my unpublished manuscript, Tarot de Marseille: The Picturebook of Fate. As throughout this series, the emphasis is placed upon the traditional eikōn of the card, its historical context, and the practical significations I have found useful through divinatory practice. The interpretations presented here reflect my own experience of working with the Tarot de Marseille and should be understood as a working method rather than a definitive authority.
The Sixes: The Lover and the Devil
Trump VI, L’Amoureux, or the Lover, is one of the strangest and most misunderstood cards in the Tarot. Some see it as a card of love and romance. Others interpret it as a card of choice and decision-making. Still others focus upon complex relationships and outside interference. Yet the Marseille image suggests something rather different. Rather than depicting love fulfilled or a decision made, it portrays a man caught between competing influences and unable to move forward.
The traditional eikōn of the Lover is unusual and immediately striking. A young man stands between two women, each touching or holding him. Above this curious trio hovers a winged Cupid set within a radiant sun, bow drawn and arrow ready to strike. It is a scene charged with tension, yet remarkably little action occurs. No choice is made. No union is achieved. Instead, the central figure appears caught between opposing forces.
The essence of the Lover is vacillation; its function is to paralyse. For many years this card was a private nemesis of mine. I attempted to read it as a card of love and, later, as a card of choice. Neither interpretation fully satisfied me. Were the card truly about choice, one might expect to see a figure weighing options and reaching a conclusion. Yet the young man does nothing of the sort. He appears trapped by indecision. His companions exert influence from either side, whilst Cupid’s arrow introduces yet another force beyond his control.
The card therefore depicts what happens when reason is subjugated to desire. Conflicting wants, loyalties, attractions, and obligations pull us in opposing directions until we become incapable of meaningful action. We want incompatible things simultaneously. We fear making the wrong choice. Self-preservation urges caution whilst desire urges action. The result is hesitation, confusion, and ultimately paralysis. The Lover is the card of the divided heart. Hosea’s observation1 remains as relevant now as when it was first written: conflicting loyalties render us unstable and uncertain. We are drawn simultaneously towards incompatible desires and find ourselves unable to pursue any of them wholeheartedly. Thus the card signifies not the making of a choice, but the paralysis that arises when we cannot bring ourselves to make one.
For this reason, the Lover often appears when the querent is being pulled in different directions and cannot determine the best course of action. A pervasive feeling of discomfort accompanies the card. One finds oneself at a crossroads, yet no path appears satisfactory. Progress stalls because the underlying problem is not a lack of options but a lack of clarity regarding what is truly wanted. Until this confusion is resolved, the querent remains unable to realise their full potential.
Quite often, the Lover signifies the influence of a third party: someone whose presence complicates matters or exerts undue influence over the situation. In relationship readings this can indeed manifest as the classic love triangle, though not necessarily through infidelity. More often it reflects divided loyalties, emotional uncertainty, or the emergence of feelings for another person whilst an existing relationship is neglected.
The principle extends beyond romance. In business and employment matters, the Lover frequently reveals rivalry, competition, and competing interests. The querent may find themselves struggling to establish a clear position or differentiate themselves from others. Unless they are willing to commit to a particular course of action, competitors may seize the opportunities that indecision leaves behind. The Lover reminds us that vacillation has a cost, for whilst we hesitate, the world continues to move forward.
General: Being pulled in different directions by competing interests, loyalties, or desires. The card signifies uncertainty, hesitation, and difficulty committing to a particular course of action. Third parties often complicate matters, introducing confusion or conflicting advice. Conflicts of interest, divided loyalties, and an inability to decide are common manifestations of the Lover.
Love: In established relationships, the Lover frequently heralds a period of doubt and uncertainty regarding the future. Communication is often poor, with one or both partners reluctant to express their true feelings or concerns. The card may indicate the influence of a third party, whether through interference, divided affections, or the emergence of romantic feelings elsewhere. For those who are single, the Lover often brings opportunities which ultimately fail to develop into lasting relationships. Initial attraction may be strong, but long-term goals and expectations are seldom aligned. The card also warns that not everyone is being entirely candid.
Career: The Lover is associated with professions concerned with relationships and human interaction, including relationship counselling, sexual health services, matchmaking, and similar fields. It may also signify temporary, part-time, or flexible employment. More commonly, however, the card indicates uncertainty regarding career direction. The querent may be struggling to identify the right path forward and would benefit from impartial advice. Within existing employment, the card can reveal rivalry, office politics, conflicting expectations, and unhealthy competition between colleagues.
Finance: Financial difficulties frequently arise through indecision, poor planning, or conflicting priorities. Income and expenditure may have fallen out of balance, requiring difficult choices and a reassessment of financial goals. Dissatisfaction and emotional frustration can encourage impulsive spending, often to temporary effect. The card advises seeking trusted advice and committing to a clear financial strategy.
Health: The Lover is associated with sexual health and may indicate sexually transmitted infections and diseases. More generally, the card often points towards disorders in which desire, impulse, or compulsion override reason and good judgement. This includes conditions such as intermittent explosive disorder, compulsive eating, kleptomania, compulsive spending, and related difficulties with impulse control. Psychological distress arising from internal conflict, indecision, or competing desires may also be present.
Before proceeding further, it is worth briefly explaining three terms that recur throughout my articles on the Tarot and Petit Lenormand: eikōn, essence, and function. Together, they form the foundation of my approach to cartomancy and interpretation.
Eikōn
The word eikōn is Greek and simply means image. My use of the term, however, owes much to the Christian tradition of iconography.
Growing up with an exposure to Eastern Catholic and Orthodox influences, religious icons were a familiar sight. Over time, I developed a deep appreciation for the Byzantine tradition and the remarkable skill of iconographers. In that tradition, an icon is not merely a picture. It is “written” according to established rubrics in which colours, gestures, posture, clothing, objects, and composition all possess meaning. These individual elements combine to create a living image that communicates a story, truth, or mystery.
When I began studying the Tarot, particularly the Marseille tradition, the similarities struck me immediately. Like an icon, a Tarot card presents a complete image whose meaning emerges through the interaction of its various parts. The image speaks as a whole.
Christ in Majesty. Note the similarities to the Tarot’s Le Monde Card. Metropolitan Museum of Art, CC0, via Wikimedia Commons
What I found less convincing was the dominant deconstructive approach employed in many modern Tarot books, where individual symbols are isolated from their wider context and elevated above the image itself. One reader may focus upon a hat, another upon a shoe, whilst someone else becomes preoccupied with the colour of a sleeve. Valuable insights can certainly arise in this way, but the danger is that the card ceases to function as an integrated image and instead becomes a collection of disconnected details. Meaning becomes increasingly subjective and, ultimately, relativistic.
The gestures of the Juggler mean little outside the context of the entire card. Likewise, the direction in which the Ship sails only acquires significance when considered within the wider image and narrative. The whole must always remain greater than the sum of its parts.
Whilst reflecting upon this, I am reminded of Saint Clare of Assisi’s visual approach to prayer, often summarised as gaze, consider, contemplate, and imitate. A visual form of Lectio Divina. It seemed to me that a similar method could be applied to the Tarot. One first observes the image, then reflects upon its meaning, contemplates its deeper significance, and finally applies its lessons to life.
For this reason, I prefer to think of the cards as eikōnes rather than collections of symbols. Each card should be approached as a complete image revealing a story and a principle.
I have deliberately chosen the Greek eikōn rather than the English word icon. Given the mixed reactions many people have towards Christianity, and despite the Tarot’s profoundly Christian origins, the Greek term provides a more neutral expression whilst still preserving the connection with the iconographic tradition from which my thinking developed.
Whilst the cosmological framework used throughout this work owes much to Aristotle and medieval natural philosophy, my approach to interpretation is more heavily influenced by the Christian Neoplatonic tradition. Both viewed the visible world as participating in deeper truths that transcend mere appearances.
The Tarot card is therefore not approached simply as a collection of symbols to be decoded, nor as a puzzle whose meaning is constructed from isolated details. Rather, the eikōn is treated as a unified image revealing an underlying reality. The image points beyond itself without ceasing to be itself. In this respect, the Tarot card functions much like a religious icon, inviting contemplation of the principle it expresses.
The famous Sinai Pantrocrator reveals Christ’s Dyophysitism: God and Human. Saint Catherine Monastery, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons
Amongst the figures who have most influenced my thinking in this regard are Saint Augustine, St Benedict, Marsilio Ficino, Giovanni Pico della Mirandola, Thomas Merton and Brian Williams. Despite belonging to very different periods, each recognised the importance of contemplation, discernment, and the search for truth beneath appearances. Their writings encouraged me to approach the Tarot less as a collection of signs and more as a series of images revealing enduring principles.
Essence
If the eikōn is the image, the essence is the fundamental principle or mystery expressed by that image. The essence is not a keyword, nor is it a summary of every possible meaning attached to a card. Rather, it is the card’s underlying nature. It answers the question: what is this card?
My own understanding of essence emerged gradually through the study of Tarot and the Petit Lenormand. When I first learnt to read cards, keywords played little or no role. Instead, attention was given to the nature of a card and how it behaved in different circumstances (order, whether it was near or far, et cetera). It was only later, upon reading modern Tarot literature, that I encountered extensive keyword lists.
Whilst keywords can be useful as memory aids, I often found myself struggling to understand why particular words had been selected. Vocabulary is shaped by culture, language, generation, and personal preference. One author’s keyword might differ entirely from another’s, despite both discussing the same card. The result was often a sense of arbitrariness and made more difficult by my dyslexia.
Over time, I began to notice that things possess an underlying nature that makes them what they are. This differs from a purely symbolic approach in which a card merely stands for something else. The Hermit is not a symbol of prudence. The Hermit is prudent. Prudence belongs to his nature and is therefore expressed whenever he appears.
Matfre Ermengaud di Béziers, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons
This understanding owes much to the Neoplatonic tradition, particularly as filtered through Saint Augustine and the Renaissance philosopher Marsilio Ficino. Both viewed visible things as participating in deeper realities rather than merely representing them. A thing possesses a nature which allows it to remain itself whilst simultaneously connecting it to broader truths.
In this sense, the essence is not a keyword attached to a card. Nor is it an abstract label. It is the card’s essential self: the underlying principle that unites all of its manifestations and gives coherence to its meanings.
This understanding also emerged naturally from my use of the eikōn. The eikōn reveals the essence. By contemplating the image as a whole, one arrives at the principle that animates it. The image is not merely a collection of symbols; it is the visible expression of an underlying nature.
The Hermit provides a useful example. Prudence is not one meaning of the Hermit amongst many; it is the principle from which the others arise. Whether the Hermit appears as caution, discretion, reflection, solitude, age, experience, patient guidance, or careful planning, prudence remains the common principle linking these manifestations together. Prudence is the Hermit’s essential self. Without prudence, the Hermit would cease to be the Hermit.
Similarly:
Justice is Verity.
The Pope is Wisdom.
The Hound is association.
The Fishes is abundance.
Every subsequent meaning associated with a card should arise from that central principle. The essence prevents the card from becoming a collection of disconnected keywords and instead allows its meanings to remain coherent and rooted in its nature.
In this respect, the essence acts as a thread running through every interpretation. It keeps the card unified, ensuring that however many manifestations it may possess, it remains recognisably itself.
Before proceeding further, I should briefly clarify a point of terminology. I am always pleased to see readers engage with and discuss the concept of essence, especially as it has become a useful part of the vocabulary surrounding this type of work. However, I have occasionally noticed the term being used somewhat differently from how I originally intended it. Essence is sometimes treated as little more than a refined keyword or summary phrase. Whilst this is understandable, it is not quite what I mean. A keyword describes a card; an essence reveals what the card is. It is not simply a convenient label attached to a collection of meanings, but the card’s underlying nature and identity. The essence of the Hermit, for example, is not merely a word chosen to summarise the card. It is the principle that makes the Hermit recognisably itself and from which all of its manifestations proceed. In this respect, essence is less a description than a revelation. It seeks to identify the card’s true nature rather than merely describe its appearances.
Essence should therefore not be understood as the most important keyword attached to a card or a vibe or spirit. Keywords remain descriptive; essence is ontological. It concerns the card’s being rather than its attributes. The question is not “How might this card be described?” but “What must this card be in order to be itself?” The answer to that question is what I mean by essence.
Function
If essence describes a card’s nature, function describes its action.
How does this principle operate?
Where essence is relatively static, function is active. The two are inseparable. A card’s function must arise naturally from its essence rather than being imposed upon it from outside.
If the essence describes a card’s nature, the function describes the activity proper to that nature.
For example:
Justice is verity that balances.
The Pope is wisdom that mediates.
The Hound is association that supports and assists.
The Fishes is abundance that circulates.
The function therefore represents the manner in which the essence expresses itself. Wisdom may manifest in many ways, but it always mediates between ignorance and understanding. Renewal may appear in many forms, but it always guides growth and recovery. Prudence consistently operates through discernment. The essence remains constant; the function explains its activity.
In many ways, function can be understood through a simple analogy. We understand a knife not merely by what it is, but by what it is for. The proper activity of a knife is to cut. Likewise, we understand a Tarot card more fully when we know both its nature and its operation.
Knowing what a card is allows us to identify it; knowing what it does allows us to interpret it. Function becomes particularly important when we arrive at what I call the Progressed Meaning.
The progressed meaning is the practical interpretation that emerges during a reading. It is not the essence alone, nor the function alone, but the essence functioning within a specific context.
In other words:
Progressed Meaning = essence functioning in context
or, if one prefers:
Progressed Meaning = essence + function + context
Consider the Hermit. His essence is Prudence and his function is to Discern.
When interpreted in a love reading, we do not suddenly abandon prudence and begin inventing entirely new meanings. Rather, we ask how prudence functions through discernment within that context. The progressed meaning becomes caution, taking time to know another person, exercising discretion, or carefully evaluating a relationship before making commitments.
Likewise, in a business reading, the Hermit may advise reviewing evidence carefully before investing. In a health reading, he may indicate the need to seek additional information before proceeding with treatment. The manifestations differ, but the underlying principle remains unchanged. Prudence continues to operate through discernment.
The same process applies to every card.
Consider the Star. Its essence is Renewal and its function is to Guide. In health, it may indicate recovery and convalescence. In finances, gradual improvement. In relationships, reconciliation and rebuilding trust. In each case, renewal continues to guide circumstances towards restoration.
Death provides another useful example. Death is Demise that Terminates. In a relationship, this may indicate separation. In employment, redundancy. In health, the conclusion of a course of treatment. In each case, the progressed meaning arises from the same essential principle operating within different circumstances.
This leads to an important rule:
The progressed meaning should never contradict the essence.
The manifestation may vary, but the essence remains constant.
Death should never suddenly signify growth. The Devil should never become liberation. Justice should never become deceit. The circumstances may alter how the card appears, but they cannot alter the card’s nature.
Function therefore provides the bridge between a card’s nature and its practical interpretation. Without it, readings become little more than collections of disconnected keywords. With it, meanings develop naturally from the card itself.
The task of the reader is not merely to memorise interpretations, but to understand how the essence functions within the circumstances presented by the question. That process is what produces the progressed meaning.
The essence anchors the card, the function sets it in motion, and the context determines where that motion is directed. Together they produce the progressed meaning encountered in actual divination. When properly understood, the progressed meaning is not an arbitrary interpretation, but the natural consequence of the card’s nature operating within a particular situation.
The reader may therefore notice two distinct influences throughout this article. The structure of the cosmos, the elements, and the temperaments derive largely from the Aristotelian worldview. The method of interpretation, however, owes more to the Christian Neoplatonic tradition of Augustine and Ficino, in which visible images reveal deeper realities. The two approaches are not in opposition.
Indeed, Renaissance thinkers frequently employed both, seeing them as complementary ways of understanding the same creation.
Augustine and Pine-Coffin, R.S. (2003) Confessions. London, England: Penguin Books. Saint Augustine of Hippo and Bettenson, H. (2004) City of God. Penguin Books. Carvalho, H.A. de and Ribeiro, L. (2010) On the heavenly spheres: A treatise on traditional astrology. Tempe, AZ: American Federation of Astrologers. Benedict et al. (1981) RB 1980: The Rule of St. Benedict. Collegeville, MN: Liturgical Press. Farley, H. (2009) A cultural history of Tarot: From entertainment to esotericism. London: I.B. Tauris. Frawley, J. (2001) The Real Astrology. London: Apprentice. Guite, M. (2022) Lifting the Veil: Imagination and the Kingdom of God Hankey, W.J. (2016) Aquinas’s Neoplatonism in the Summa Theologiae on God. St Augustine’s Press. Nees, L. (2002) Early Medieval Art. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Nouwen, H.J.M. (2007) Behold the beauty of the lord: Praying with icons. Notre Dame, Ind: Ave Maria Press. O#Meara, D.J. (1981). Neoplatonism and Christian Thought Ptolemaeus, C. and Robbins, F.E. (2001) Tetrabiblos. Cambridge, MA: Harvard Univ. Press. Silvestre, C.H. (1987) ABC des Tarots. Paris: Marabout. Thomas (2018) Summa Theologica: Complete in a Single Volume. Claremont, CA: Coyote Canyon Press. Valens, V. and Riley, M.T. (2022) The Anthology. Denver, CO: Amor Fati Publications. Williams, B. (2003) A Renaissance Tarot: A Guide to the Renaissance Tarot. U.S. Games Systems.
This article continues my series examining the trumps of the Tarot de Marseille, adapted from my unpublished manuscript, Tarot de Marseille: The Picturebook of Fate. As throughout this series, the emphasis is placed upon the traditional eikōn of the card, its historical context, and the practical significations I have found useful through divinatory practice. The interpretations presented here reflect my own experience of working with the Tarot de Marseille and should be understood as a working method rather than a definitive authority.
The Fives: The Pope and Temperance
Let us now turn to another example and, in doing so, introduce a new spread.
The tirage en croix, or cross spread, is perhaps the most popular layout in continental cartomancy. One of the principal reasons for its enduring popularity is its capacity to provide a clear and decisive response to a question—indeed, where appropriate, it may even yield a simple affirmative or negative answer. Several variations exist, and the one presented here is simply the version I utilise most often.
The twenty-one trumps and the Madman or Fool are shuffled and cut, after which four cards are dealt in the form of a cross.
03 01 – 05 – 02 04
Card 1 (Left): The querent and their manner of approaching the situation.
Card 2 (Right): The situation itself, including external influences, whether favourable or adverse.
Card 3 (Above): Advice and guidance.
Card 4 (Below): The outcome.
Card 5 (Centre): The synthesis.
Unlike the first four cards, the fifth is not drawn but calculated. One adds together the numerical values of the four cards already laid, using the numbering of the Major Arcana, and reduces the result to a number not exceeding twenty-two.
For example, should one draw the Madman (0), Justice (8), the Lover (6), and the Sun (19), the calculation is as follows:
0 + 8 + 6 + 19 = 33
As this exceeds twenty-two, one reduces it further:
3 + 3 = 6
The resulting number corresponds to the Lover, which serves as the synthesis.
It should be evident that this synthesis card is not to be read as an additional outcome; that function is already fulfilled by the fourth card. Rather, the synthesis reveals the underlying dynamics of the matter—the deeper currents and governing principles operating behind the question.
A brief note should be made regarding the Madman. When it appears amongst the first four cards, it is assigned the numerical value of zero for the purposes of calculation. However, the matter is treated somewhat differently in the case of the synthesis. Should the final total reduce to twenty-two, the Madman itself becomes the synthesis card.
Michelle was a gregarious, witty, and gifted amateur artist and jewellery maker who was difficult to overlook. Sadly, she lost her job during lockdown and struggled to find similar employment thereafter. When she secured an interview for a receptionist role, she wanted to know whether she would be successful.
The cards were:
Position 1: The Sun
Position 2: The Hermit
Position 3: The Pope
Position 4: The Star
Position 5 (Synthesis): The Pope
The reading begins with the Sun in the position of the querent. This card described Michelle remarkably well. She was warm, engaging, enthusiastic, and impossible to ignore. The Sun is open, honest, and direct. It illuminates everything around it and has little interest in concealment or reserve. Michelle’s natural inclination was therefore to approach the interview with confidence, sincerity, and considerable personal charm.
The situation itself was represented by the Hermit. Here we immediately encounter a contrast. Whereas the Sun shines brightly, the Hermit carries only a small lantern. The position Michelle sought required discretion, patience, and good judgement rather than exuberance and visibility.
A receptionist often acts as the public face of an organisation whilst simultaneously serving as a gatekeeper. Sensitive information may pass through their hands and they are required to deal with people tactfully and professionally. Consequently, the role demanded qualities that did not come as naturally to Michelle as the Sun’s warmth and openness.
The Hermit did not suggest that she suppress her personality altogether. Rather, it advised moderation. Michelle would need to turn down the brightness of the Sun somewhat and demonstrate a more thoughtful, careful, and measured side of herself.
In the position of advice appeared the Pope. This card proved crucial to the interpretation, and its significance became even more apparent when it later reappeared as the synthesis.
The Pope advised Michelle to combine confidence with empathy, strength of character with perceptiveness, and communication with understanding. Reception work is fundamentally a mediating role. One must listen carefully, assess situations quickly, and respond appropriately to a wide variety of people. The Pope therefore encouraged Michelle to demonstrate not merely competence, but wisdom in the application of that competence.
The card also suggested that she would benefit from learning as much as possible about the organisation beforehand. Speaking with someone familiar with the establishment, researching its culture, or gaining a clearer understanding of what the employer valued would allow her to present herself more effectively and show how her skills could benefit the organisation.
The outcome was represented by the Star, a highly encouraging card. The Star signifies renewal, hope, and guidance, all of which pointed towards a favourable result.
More importantly, the card highlighted adaptability. Just as the maiden directs water from her two pitchers, Michelle possessed the ability to apply her talents in different ways according to the needs of the situation. The Star suggested that she had the natural qualities required for the role and, crucially, the ability to adapt those qualities appropriately.
The synthesis was calculated as the Pope, reinforcing the importance of that card. Whenever a card appears both within the spread and as the synthesis, it deserves particular attention. Such repetition indicates that the principles symbolised by the card form the very heart of the matter.
The Pope revealed that the interview was not fundamentally about experience or qualifications. It was about demonstrating wisdom, tact, empathy, intuition, and sound judgement. Michelle already possessed the confidence and charisma represented by the Sun. Her challenge was to temper those qualities with the maturity, discernment, and understanding represented by the Pope.
True strength, the Pope reminds us, is not merely confidence. It is confidence guided by wisdom. Likewise, intuition is not guesswork, but perception informed by experience and understanding. The Pope therefore represented both the advice and the solution.
My conclusion was that Michelle had every chance of obtaining the position. Success depended less upon dazzling the interview panel and more upon convincing them that she possessed the judgement and interpersonal skills required for the role. If she could combine the warmth of the Sun with the wisdom of the Pope, the Star strongly suggested that the opportunity would be hers.
And so, it was! Michelle was successful and is still in post four years on.
This example illustrates another important principle of the tirage en croix. Repeated cards and recurring themes frequently reveal the true heart of a reading. Here, the Pope appeared twice, emphasising that genuine strength lay not in confidence alone, but in the wisdom to know how, when, and where that confidence should be applied.
§
Tarot Cards: Jean Dodal Tarot via Wikipedia Commons. Public Domain.
Journal of a Cartomante 
.jpg){kind=link}
.jpg){kind=link}