James Gardner - Lesser Figures of the Greater Trumps

The Greater Trumps are the major Arcana of the tarot. This piece is based on pictures from the classic Rider-Waite deck.

0. The Fools Dog: He smells interesting. Like a long walk and sweaty. Like sex too. His crotch smells like sex.

I like the smell. I push up against him to remind myself of the fragrance. A little while later Im not sure I still remember it exactly, so I push up against him again.

I wonder who the woman was.

I wonder what she smells like now.

1. The Tree Above the Magus: The sun is warm. The sun is tasty.

The wind whispers that fall is coming. She tests my leaves to see if they will come loose.

I am perfectly aware that fall is coming. But today, the sun is delicious.

The man below me poses as if he is someone special.

But hes in my shade.

2. The Scroll in the High Priestesss Hand: She holds me gingerly as if I am fragile; but I am parchment. Decades ago, I was the skin of a sheep. When the sheep was shorn, I was all that protected it from the elements. Rain made me slick. Snow melted slowly against me. I wasnt fragile then.

The sheep died, but I was rescued. Humans blessed me and scraped me clean. They scratched me with quills; it stung, but it made me special in their eyes.

I dont know what they wrote.

The womans hand is warm and gentle. It reminds me of my sheep.

3. The Dress of the Empress: Am I not of regal cloth? Am I not elegant? Am I not luxuriant with color?

I was designed by a man from across the sea. I was sewn by imperial seamstresses. One seamstress was whipped because her hems were uneven. Right in the palace workrooms: the woman was whipped in front of me. A speck of her blood sprayed onto the cloth, where it falls across the Empresss breast. No one noticed. It blended right in.

Isnt that delightful?

Each morning, the Empress rises from her bed and puts me on. Three maids help with her hair and makeup and perfumes, but she puts me on by herself. I drape her body; she basks in my caresses.

If she did not surround herself with my finery, she would not feel like an Empress.

Without me, she is nothing.

4. The Emperors Crown: For five hundred years, I have watched this family. This boy, his father, his grandfatherso many generations Ive lost count. Some were good rulers; some were tyrants; some were mad.

This boy is the best of the line. Hes rather stupid, but he keeps his hair clean.

5. The Two Monks Who Kneel Before the Hierophant: One of us will replace the Old Man soon. He cant live much longer. His mind wanders. He mumbles when hes giving an audience, and he mumbles when hes alone.

At one time, he was the voice of the gods on Earth. They possessed him and spoke through him.

Now he mumbles.

I wonder what it feels like when the gods speak through you. Its frightening to imagine. In all the pantheon, there isnt a single god youd want to turn your back on. If you lent your coat to a god, youd never get it back again. Not in one piece. So why is it such an honor to lend them your tongue?

Stop mumbling, old man. Pull yourself together.

6. The Snake Who Watches the Lovers: Humans know nothing about love. They stand beside each other naked and think nakedness is love.

A snake knows love.

Love is the smell that drags you away from everything that is safe, across fields, over roads, into villages, while in the back of your mind a voice tells you truly, If humans see you, youll die. Not death by languishing, but death by crushing, feet trampling you as bones snap and guts rupture. And you continue anyway, not because you want anything but you are incapable of seeing anything but the path toward passion.

Humans think that lovers are star-crossed if their families disapprove.

At their most ardent, humans still take a moment to find a soft place to lie down.

7. The Black Sphinx Who Pulls the Chariot: The conquering hero rides through the city, believing he is the terror and envy of all who see him. With his helmet stuffed down around his ears, he cant hear the muttering of the people in the street.

Cant he afford a horse?

I knew him when he was a brat who threw stones at old women.

Putting on weight, isnt he?

When he parks this chariot outside the Ministry of War, children come and scratch my ears. They call me kitty.

8. The Flowers That Girdle the Woman of Strength: What is the nature of strength?

Nothing fights with us flowers. Nothing eats us, except for the occasional budworm. People dont try to make their reputation by conquering us.

The woman of strength strives to close the lions mouth, and this time she succeeds. Or maybe its just that this time, the lion allows himself to be subdued.

If the lion wins the next time and tears her apart, we flowers will certainly be damaged too. But the lion wont go out of his way to hurt us. He wont resent us. He wont want revenge on a bunch of flowers.

What is the nature of strength?

9. The Hermits Staff: Straighter than any tree that ever grewI was a tree once, a sapling. Cut down by a woodcutter, because it was his nature to cut wood. Selected by an artisan, because I stood straighter than my fellows. Whittled and trimmed, planed and sandedshaved down to some humans idea of how trees should really grow.

I am half the diameter I once was. A spindly weakling. If this hermit put his full weight on me, I would snap.

But I am very straight.

I am here for symbolism, not support.

10. The Creature That Bears the Wheel of fortune: The wheel doesnt float in midair; I hold it up.

The crowd watching the wheel thinks that it turns on its own. I like to foster that illusion.

Oh, no! I shout. Its turning, its turning, oh, no! Harvests will be bad, winter will be hard, infants will be born sickly. And people of the celestial audience shake their heads gravely as if the universe has revealed its callousness.

At last! I shout. Its turning, its turning at last! Crops will ripen, summer will be kind, children will laugh and see the world with wondering eyes. And people of the celestial audience sing hymns to laud the banishment of evil.

The spectators think the wheel turns on its own.

They think it really has an effect.

When I grow bored of this game, Im going to drop the wheel and watch the looks on their faces.

11. The King Who Bears the Scales of Justice: Visitors to my court wonder why Im not wearing a blindfold. But if I wore a blindfold, how could I read the scales? Put my finger on one side or the other? That would give a fair reading, wouldnt it?

Im not being cynical.

I know that if I were wearing a blindfold, Id peek. People wearing blindfolds always peek. Stage magicians. Knife-throwers. Children pinning the tail on the donkey.

Im not being cynical.

It wouldnt matter. The scales still work. Justice is served.

But a blindfold would be pure showmanship.

Not that I have any complaint with showmanship. Ive thought of getting a blindfold so people would believe Im impartial.

Its not enough for justice to be done; people must believe justice has been done. People always repeat that maxim after the scales make an unpopular judgment. What they mean is that the truth is not good enough if the truth is unappealing. They dont want the scales to reveal the truth, they want the scales to confirm majority opinion.

Im not being cynical.

12. The Tree That Bears the Hanged Man: Other trees get normal lynchings. On me, they hang the guy upside down.

I feel ridiculous.