Cross Examination
We walk into Au Bon Pain at 11 a.m. to find the place almost completely empty. Where are the tarot readers, as presaged by the Eventbrite description? Deciding to just order our coffees, we come upon an unmanned cash register and stopped, flummoxed. There is not an employee in sight. Had the higher powers deserted us, subjecting us to the whims of self-serve technology? No — as we try to pay, attempting to operate the register ourselves, a man apparates from behind the donut shelf, glaring at us suspiciously.
Five minutes after the hour, we belatedly overcome our refrigerator blindness to notice the alert, bespectacled lady who is sure to be our host. Had she arrived before us, or had she always been there? One thing is for sure: She is certainly not the dreamy, wide-eyed lady decked in shawls that one pictures upon hearing the word “tarot.”
Founded in 2017, The Cartomancy Café is a card-reading practice group that meets twice a month in Cambridge, on every first Saturday and third Thursday. People of all skill levels are encouraged to come and experience everything tarot, from exchanging reading techniques to admiring each other’s decks. The decks are a sight: Some are collectible and hand-painted, while others are right out of the 20th century, with themes from fairy tales to cats decorating the card faces.
Today, the group consists only of two hosts and three readers. We wonder about the fates of the other 19 who RSVP’d but didn’t make it this rainy morning. Then, we get to reading.
Upon shuffling the 20th-century-artist-themed deck for the first tarot reading of the day, the first card in this set is none other than Andy Warhol, our magazine’s patron saint. If that’s not preternatural enough, the bottom of the card reads, “Give your fifteen minutes some time.” Perhaps Warhol is advising us from the grave to be patient, and not expect the answers to jump out at us from the tarot cards immediately. Or perhaps all of this is simply pure coincidence.
Is tarot all serendipity, or is there something more?
Following some brief introductions, we split up into groups, with at least one experienced reader in each. Our host looks critically at the table, judging whether it was a clean enough surface upon which to lay the powerful tarot cards, before pulling out ornate cloths just to be safe. To our quizzical looks, she glances up with a smile, explaining that she got them from the scrap fabric section of Michaels.
We have no idea what to expect — no way of knowing how seriously our companions would take the activity. Were we really supposed to find our future in these cards? Were the readings intended to be literal? Despite our ignorance, our group members are more than happy to teach us what it all means.
Card reading is far from a straightforward process, and not just in an unfogging-the-future sense. The club’s preference are lenormand and tarot cards, which are like different languages: While both use vibrant pictures, tarot is much more figurative than the syntactical lenormand.
The four suits of tarot correspond to the classical four elements: earth for the metallic pentacles, air for the slicing swords, water for the cups, and fire for the wands. On the other hand, the suits in lenormand signify connotation: clubs for negative, spades for positives, with hearts and diamonds serving a neutral purpose. The numbers on the cards can temper or accentuate the meanings in both, the reader explains.
Some attendees consult tarot guidebooks, or even open up encyclopedic apps, like The Fool’s Dog and Golden Thread Tarot. But they encourage us to follow our intuition, at least at first. We pore over a new layout, a complex, cruciform formation our reader calls the Celtic Cross, analyzing the symbols and trying to form links between them. The Page of Cups is a pretty chill guy, the reader supplies as we read, looking at the happy fish in the Page’s cup.
An inquiring mind is the central focus of tarot. How you ask a question or think of a dilemma is just as, if not more, important than what you want to find out. A ‘yes’ or a ‘no’ feels too binary, as the first inquiry made is answered with a generalization.
Try to think of a situation in which you could use some guidance, the reader instructs, so we turn to the cards for career advice. This time, we have fun linking the end cards, first and fifth, second and fourth; the reading process is almost like phrasing a sentence out of subjects, objects and modifiers. The third card is a ship — does that imply a broadening of the horizons or a future study abroad experience?
By the end of the reading, we have a feeling that the cards just function as a mediator for the reader and subject to discuss their personal obstacles and how to overcome them. As one reader explains, the goal of tarot is not necessarily to present an authoritative or concrete reading, but rather to be affirmational and encouraging, helping subjects reevaluate their issues from a new angle and find the strength to overcome them.
After drawing Death XIII in one of our future slots, the reader assures us that it means a wonderful (albeit challenging) change is coming, and that no one would, as one might suspect, die. For all its association with the occult, Cartomancy Café’s tarot is an optimistic art.