The Greater Trumps: (03) The High Priestess
She is veiled, hooded, and yet one sees a beautiful and dangerous eye gazing out upon the world. She has secrets, this one, and every one of the mysteries is a dagger aimed at someone's life. She can be kind - her secrets may guide a person towards better health or gentler paths - and yet, her stillness, her immobile and secretive poise intimidate the casual questioner.
In many ways, she is an opposite of the Magician: she juggles nothing, and she stands or sits regally in a quiet place. Sometimes, she is reading a book; sometimes, she is reading the reader. And always, she is self-aware, beautiful, and terribly mysterious. Always, the moon is behind her, and the colours of her place are midnight hues: black, white, deep and evocative shades of blue.
That is her essence - she is the calm certainty of fact, of something that exists whether or not you know it does. She is Knowledge, and she is Memory. Which is why one ought to be wary of her, for Knowledge is always power, and not always wisdom; and Memory is often not what you thought it was.
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I've never been comfortable with the High Priestess. She knows too much. And yet, between Thought and Memory, one has often to fall back upon the comfort of Memory - whether true or false. Oberon recounts, as he plots against his wife Titania, the tale of Eros (Cupid) who shoots at such a priestess and is unable to hit the mark.
That very time I saw, but thou couldst not,
Flying between the cold moon and the earth
Cupid, all arm'd; a certain aim he took
At a fair vestal, throned by the west,
And loos'd his love-shaft smartly from his bow,
As it should pierce a hundred thousand hearts;
But I might see young Cupid's fiery shaft
Quench'd in the chaste beams of the wat'ry moon;
And the imperial vot'ress passed on,
In maiden meditation, fancy-free.
Yes, the High Priestess is fancy-free, for Memory leaves no space for What-Might-Have-Been-But-Wasn't. And the most certain Knowledge of lesser things is not as desirable as the slenderest Knowledge of the greater things, as Aquinas said. I will avoid her, but I know that eventually, I will find myself looking fondly upon her in some unguarded moment, tempted by the need to Know.
In many ways, she is an opposite of the Magician: she juggles nothing, and she stands or sits regally in a quiet place. Sometimes, she is reading a book; sometimes, she is reading the reader. And always, she is self-aware, beautiful, and terribly mysterious. Always, the moon is behind her, and the colours of her place are midnight hues: black, white, deep and evocative shades of blue.
That is her essence - she is the calm certainty of fact, of something that exists whether or not you know it does. She is Knowledge, and she is Memory. Which is why one ought to be wary of her, for Knowledge is always power, and not always wisdom; and Memory is often not what you thought it was.
=====
I've never been comfortable with the High Priestess. She knows too much. And yet, between Thought and Memory, one has often to fall back upon the comfort of Memory - whether true or false. Oberon recounts, as he plots against his wife Titania, the tale of Eros (Cupid) who shoots at such a priestess and is unable to hit the mark.
That very time I saw, but thou couldst not,
Flying between the cold moon and the earth
Cupid, all arm'd; a certain aim he took
At a fair vestal, throned by the west,
And loos'd his love-shaft smartly from his bow,
As it should pierce a hundred thousand hearts;
But I might see young Cupid's fiery shaft
Quench'd in the chaste beams of the wat'ry moon;
And the imperial vot'ress passed on,
In maiden meditation, fancy-free.
Yes, the High Priestess is fancy-free, for Memory leaves no space for What-Might-Have-Been-But-Wasn't. And the most certain Knowledge of lesser things is not as desirable as the slenderest Knowledge of the greater things, as Aquinas said. I will avoid her, but I know that eventually, I will find myself looking fondly upon her in some unguarded moment, tempted by the need to Know.
Labels: Greater Trumps, Symbolism
etched with acid at 1:36:00 am
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