One

A Tale of Two Cities

Je prends un jeu de piquet, compose de trente-deux cartes. Je les coupe trois fois
et les pose huit par huit, ayant soin d’examiner les extremites de mon tableau.
Et apres les avoir relevees de droite et de gauche, j’apercois, sur la seconde ligne,
le valet de carreau et le sept de pic renverse; l’as de pic se trouvoit, avec son neuf,
en face du roi de trefle et de la dame de coeur avec le huit de pic; ce qui sembloit lui annoncer des larmes. Je dis a cette consultante: Vos craintes ne sont point chimeriques; car le pere et le fils sont en presence. Tous les deux sont blesses; maise le jeunne
homme l’est tres-grievement. Ah! Courez promptement a leur secours.

I take a Piquet, composed of thirty-two cards. I cut three times and place
them eight by eight, taking care to examine the ends of my table. And after
having noted to both right and left, I perceive, on the second line, the Jack
of Diamonds and Seven of Spades (Reversed); in the Ace of Spades I find
the Consultant, with his Nine, opposite the King of Clubs and the Queen
of Hearts with the Eight of Spades, which seemed to move him to tears.
I say this to my consultant: Your fears are not chimerical, for your father
and son are here seen present. Both are wounded; but the younger man,
very seriously. Ah! Run quickly to their assistance.

—Marie Anne Adelaide Lenormand,
Les oracles sibyllins ou la suite des souvenirs prophétiques (1817)

What Are the “Lenormand” Cards?

The Lenormand cards, technically the Petit Lenormand of thirty-six images ranging from the Rider to the Cross, are a deck of cards originally designed as a parlour game but now used for divination and fortunetelling. You may be surprised, but as far as we know, this particular type of deck was not actually used by the famous fortuneteller Mlle. Marie Anne Adelaide Lenormand, whose name was only associated with the deck after her death.

Unlike the tarot, which originated in Italy, the Lenormand cards are a European and cosmopolitan child of Paris, France, and Nuremberg, Germany. The name of the cards derives from Mlle. Lenormand (1772–1843), a notable fortuneteller of Paris, and the images and deck derive—totally separately—from a card game designed by J. K. Hechtel (1771–1799) in Nuremberg, published in 1800. They became a “love child” in the first “Petit Lenormand” decks published from around 1850 onwards in Germany, capitalizing on the death and name of Mlle. Lenormand.

If it were today, it would be as if we took the game of Monopoly (itself originally called “The Landlords Game”), turned it into a divination system with forty cards (twenty-two street cards, four station cards, two utility cards, and the remaining cards, including a jail card) and then called it “the Fortune-Telling Cards of Aleister Crowley.” We would choose his name because he is well-known, was connected with magick, and has died, and if we had done this before the rise of mass and instant communication, no one would know
he had never played Monopoly.

More than two centuries later, most people would then assume these were indeed the cards the legendary Great Beast used in his rituals and divinations. There might even come a time when arguments would rage about the “true” Kabbalistic correspondences of the twenty-two street cards!

Furthermore, two centuries later, we might suddenly see a renaissance of our Thelemopoly deck with new variants being created, such as in Monopoly, where we now see Totopoly based on horse-racing, a Dallasopoly, and even a Dinosauropoly. It may not be too long, then, until we see a Dinosaurnormand.

The set of images commonly called “Lenormand” is also a little like a genome, a piece of genetic information that has been dropped into the wider evolutionary stream of cartomancy and tarot. It has been mutated several times, most notably into the Gypsy Fortune-Telling decks and the Black Cat fortunetelling game published by Parker Brothers in 1897, with feline cards for “Danger” and “Love Matters.” These variant decks often have similar cards to the Lenormand although they vary widely. It is not uncommon to see decks with a Train card or a Spider, for example, which do not occur in the generally accepted Lenormand cards.

Here are two examples of very early Lenormand-type decks, the first of which contains a Butterfly card and the second the more common pattern of images, in this case an early deck published by Dondorf.

1%20Antique%20Cards%20M1.tif

Figure 1. Antique Lenormand Cards

2%20Antique%20Cards%20M1.tif

Figure 2. Antique Dondorf Lenormand

The most comprehensive and reliable study to date in English on the development of the Lenormand cards and the life of Mlle. Lenormand is to be found in Decker, Depaulis, and Dummett’s A Wicked Pack of Cards.4 In German, the exhibition catalogue Wahrsagekarten (Fortunetelling Cards) by Hoffman and Kroppenstedt collects together many examples of Lenormand and variants, such as the “Sibylle des Salons” (Sybil of the Salons) and “Livre du Destin” (Book of Destiny) decks.5 It was also the first publication, now more than thirty years ago, to point out that what are now commonly known as “Lenormand” cards were not used by Mlle. Lenormand but rather created from the Hechtel “Game of Hope” deck.

So, whilst the Lenormand cards are named after Mlle. Lenormand, she did not use these types of cards, and they actually arose after her death. It is somewhat uncertain, even by her own voluminous writing, exactly what type of cards and methods the Parisian fortuneteller used, although we do have some general ideas. It is perhaps possible she had a “Game of Hope” deck in her possession, if it had travelled from Nuremberg to Paris during her life, but this was likely not the deck she was using for cartomancy.

3%20A%20Portrait%20of%20Mlle%20Lenormand%201843%20M1.tif 4%20A%20Consultation%20with%20Mlle%20Lenormand%201843%20M1.tif

Left to right: Figure 3. A Portrait of Mlle. Lenormand
Figure 4. A Consultation with Mlle. Lenormand

Her story is best told in A Wicked Pack of Cards (1996), which covers the historical references in some detail. Her work Les souvenirs prophétiques d’une sibylle sur les causes secrétes de son arrestation (1814) is typical of her output, being a sort of scandal sheet of its time. We cannot help but think of her as being a sort of Paris Hilton of her time, constantly in the broadsheets, writing up her escapades and alleged involvement with celebrities of the time, at length, for further self-promotion.

5%20Mlle%20Lenormand%20Prophesying%201833%20M1.tif

Figure 5. Mlle. Lenormand prophesying for the Duchess of Berry, Princess Caroline

Which cards she actually used as part of her involvement in the growing movement of tireurs de cartes (fortunetellers of cards) is somewhat vague. There are references to Thoth and “strange figures” on the cards; in her own words, she speaks about using a “blazing mirror,” the “thirty-three Greek sticks,” and a variety of grimoires, wands, and talismans. There is no specific mention of tarot as we would know it today.

It is in her 1817 work, Les Oracles Sibyllins, where we learn more about her apparent methodology and meanings; she appears to use a Piquet pack (thirty-two cards), which was commonly used for gaming and derives such meanings as “the King of Spades, together with the 8 of Diamonds, means that a skilful man has made trials to stop, if it is possible, the progression of illness.”6 We have provided the original rules of Picket (as it was called in English) as an appendix so you can play this game if you wish. She also appears to refer to the “78 tharot cards,” including the Fool, Devil, and Death.

However she worked, others followed after her death, including Mme. Clément, who wrote The Bleeding Raven, a book on fortunetelling that was actually based on Etteilla’s earlier work and cards. It was Etteilla (1738–1791) who seemed to inspire Mlle. Lenormand, as he was widely regarded as the first true teacher of tarot, however she conspicuously does not mention him at all in her many writings.

It was not until two years after her death that a “Grand Jeu de Mlle Lenormand” was first published, based on a fifty-four-card pack, with astrological, mythical, and symbolic layers on every card. This is the deck still published by Grimaud. This was followed by a German fifty-five-card version, “Wahrsage-Karten der berühmten Mlle Le Normand” in about 1850. It appears that as the designer of the “Game of Hope,” J. K. Hechtel, died shortly before or immediately after its publication, this later publisher was not concerned about using a recently deceased woman’s name and a dead man’s deck for a new type of fortunetelling publication.

These were followed by many miniature decks, particularly in Germany, of thirty-six cards, called Petit Lenormand. The further irony is that not only do these have nothing to do with Lenormand herself, the Lenormand decks were not at all popular in France, but in Germany, and thence to Holland—even as far as Brazil and Russia.

What has been lesser-known and described by Decker, Dummett, and dePaulis is that this Petit Lenormand deck is actually based on a “race game” pack of cards, from around 1800, called Das Spiel der Hofnung, “The Game of Hope.” This prototype was discovered by Detlef Hoffmann in 1976, and clearly shows the symbols and numbers we see in the Petit Lenormand. The game is played with all thirty-six cards laid out, and one die. It is suggested in the accompanying booklet that the cards may also be used as a simple question-and-answer fortunetelling system, which is what we will do. We also give the first English translation of the booklet from the game in this book as an appendix so you can read how the cards were used and may have been interpreted as part of a fortunetelling game in the salon.

It is probable that the reason there are thirty-six cards (rather than, say, the lesser number of thirty-two found in some Piquet games or the seventy-eight of a tarot deck) is because of the game design involving two six-sided dice, i.e., 6 x 6 = 36. Laying out the Game of Hope cards and noting which ones are negative, positive, and neutral reveals a standard game design (such as could be found in Snakes & Ladders) rather than any deeper significance.

6%20Portrait%20of%20J%20K%20Hechtel%201800%20M1.tif

Figure 6. Portrait of J. K. Hechtel

Following that lead to the work of Detlef Hoffmann led to more discoveries, including the actual prototype of the Lenormand deck, Das Spiel der Hofnung, created by Johann Kaspar Hechtel, published circa 1800. A copy exists in the British Museum, and we commissioned photography so you can now see it online; the cards are used here to illustrate their descriptions for reading.7

Hechtel was part of a large family that owned several of the brass mills in the area of Nuremberg, and whilst we have not finished research, there is evidence that his family took over a mill in 1776 and worked in the trade until 1845. As well as brass-making, which was often used to supply musical instrument manufacturers, an important industry in the city was, appropriately, card-making and toy-making. Hechtel also designed other diversions, including two morality-teaching games and a parlour game called Pandora.8 Whilst there was a Rosicrucian (and Alchemical) society in Nuremberg at the time called the “Society of Buccinators,” we have no evidence of any esoteric involvement by Hechtel.

We have also published a thirty-six-card deck to accompany this book, the Original Lenormand, which is a reproduction under license from the Trustees of the British Museum of Das Spiel der Hofnung.9

In the appendix, we reproduce the first English translation of the original game instructions in order to perhaps appreciate how players of the time would have divined fortunes. If we return to our Monopoly analogy, the “Go to Jail” card would obviously be read from our experience of the game as a negative card of imprisonment, whilst one would have to understand the culture of the time to appreciate what the difference might be between the “Baltic Avenue” and “Atlantic Avenue” cards (“Old Kent Road” and “Leicester Square” in England).

Across Europe there were also many types of card decks and games, including Trappola (c. 1550),10 and Tarocchi, of course. The number of cards would vary, as would designs; the suits for example could be acorns, leaves, fruit, even bells.

Sometimes cards would feature German or Latin verses upon them, which we see in some Lenormand cards with a piece of poetry to give the card meaning. Often the cards would be fully illustrated, as we see in the Two of Vases and Three of Vases from a deck designed by Jost Ammon (c. 1570). This deck was actually designed, like many, to be an instructive deck, here teaching the virtues of book-making over drinking. A lesson for us all.

There are also Piquet packs, with the usual three court cards of Valet, Queen, and King, and even decks that were satirical of current situations; one deck in 1720 was based on the South Sea and Mississippi Companies stock crash, with the verse on the Ace of Hearts saying, “The Southern Mermaid I tried to catch in vain, she took the money and left me the empty book.” It seems like these cards would be just as relevant today.

Morality Cards

In 1718 we find morality cards being used as an equivalent of the modern practice of choosing a card of the day. The deck was called Geistliche Karten, published in Ausberg as “a motto for the day,” each card containing a spiritual musing that promoted virtuous behaviour for the day.11

The text on each card of the day begins with Heut, in English, “Today.” It continues with a homily to guide the reader toward the moral lesson for that day in order to prepare for judgement. As an example, one card (Hertz 8) contains the verse:

Today imagine death, you have to die, death is certain and will come soon, do not know today or tomorrow or whether he waits longer. Prepare soon, take the ladder of Christ and climb up to virtue. To achieve this mercy say a Lord’s Prayer and an Ave Maria for the soul that does not regard death and doesn’t prepare enough for it.

It is in this climate of moral teaching that the use of playing cards as instruction advice—even in gaming form—arose. The Game of Hope is only one of many such games popular over two centuries throughout Europe, played with cards, dice, and often a board.

Games of Morality and Education

The Wellcome Trust in London is in possession of some very special old games that really do bear mentioning here.12 These board games are testaments of the “how we used to live” sort and go some way to helping us understand the original groundwork for the Lenormand’s conception. It helps us understand what inspired such devices. It would seem from this evidence that historical beliefs and concerns really did help to shape what we know today as the Lenormand.

The fact that these were what you would call “race games” is significant; they derive from a game called “the Game of Goose,” an Italian game of Middle Eastern origin using the roll of a die to move the players around the board in a circuit. This game was also called the “Newe and Most Pleasant Game of the Goose.” It was first translated into English by John Wolfe in 1597. It was this game that was seen as the “big daddy” of educational morality games. The oldest in the collection is one called Le Iev Desnations, published in the seventeenth century, an educational game. The game teaches “morals, fashions, and customs” of the “other nations” worldwide.

There is also evidence of similar images being used in “lotto” games of the time, such as we see in this lotto sheet from Nuremberg, where the Game of Hope was devised.

The two games that are of particular significance to the Lenormand are the morality games of the collection. One of these two games, “Laurie’s Instructive and Entertaining Game of the Mansion of Happiness,” is very similar to the Game of Hope from which Lenormand cards were created. The tagline for the game does not mince its words: “virtue rewarded and vice punished.” The traits of “audacity, immodesty, or ingratitude” are frowned upon. This behaviour will not be rewarded; the players are not to expect to “even think of happiness, much less partake in it.” There are many forfeits in the game that punish bad criminal behaviour, one of such being “whoever becomes a PERJURER must be put in the pillory and pay a Fine of one.” Punishment by stock or whipping posts is mentioned. The fashion in games had far shifted from the past of rewards being given for being sociable with drinking and gambling, such as in the Game of Chance, to these morally educational games.

The Game of Hope (which has become the modern Lenormand) was based on this thinking—that cards showed a variety of favourable and unfavourable moral aspects of life, and one’s task was to navigate through them, making the right choices. In fact, in the Game of Hope, the goal was to win by reaching the penultimate card, the Anchor—a traditional symbol of hope and faith—and not the final card, the Cross, which meant you had overshot and had to return backwards! Here the Cross was the most negative card of trial and suffering, not an interpretation of faith, which belonged to the symbol of the anchor.

7%20Nuremberg%20Lottery%20Sheet%201840%20M1.tif

Figure 7. Nuremberg Lottery Sheet

Similarly, if the cards are laid out in a six-by-six grid as was given in the original instructions, we might detect an ascent narrative of morals and virtues being displayed to the player. In the first line, we have symbols of being at home and being away, of travel and opportunity. We then move to mortality, time, and work. The Child in the third row heralds the animal kingdom, leading to the Tower in the next row, from which follow ways, places, food, and the heart. The penultimate row shows communications: the Ring, the Book, the Letter, followed by the Gentleman, the Lady, and the Lily—an allusion to sexuality. The final line shows us the stellar symbols of the Sun and Moon, followed by the religious iconography of Key, Fish, Anchor, and Cross.

In appreciating this background, we can come better to understand some of the sources for the eventual meanings of the cards, even the manner in which they are read—using gaming-like directions, unlike tarot. The cards also remain closer to their roots as playing cards, many decks having “inserts” showing playing cards. Whilst we do not look into this in this introductory book, we can look briefly at how cards were originally read for fortunetelling to appreciate our later methods presented here.

Casanova and Cartomancy

We have quite a considerable amount of evidence of how cartomancy was used in Europe—in this case Italy and Paris. In the life of Casanova, we find mention of reading gambling cards for fortunetelling, to his detriment, it appears.

Giacomo Girolamo Casanova de Seingalt (1725–1798) was an adventurer and author, born in Venice and died in Bohemia; his name is popularly associated with seduction and womanising. His memoirs—which are part autobiography—detail his life and loves across the eighteenth century.

The first mention of cartomancy is when he is talking about his new mistress, Zaira, who was “purchased” from a local farm:

She was only fourteen, so her breast was not yet developed, and she bore about her few traces of puberty. Her skin was as white as snow, and her ebony tresses covered the whole of her body, save in a few places where the dazzling whiteness of her skin shone through. Her eyebrows were perfectly shaped, and her eyes, though they might have been larger, could not have been more brilliant or more expressive. If it had not been for her furious jealousy and her blind confidence in fortunetelling by cards, which she consulted every day, Zaira would have been a paragon among women, and I should never have left her.

We can see here that there is a mention of “fortunetelling by cards” but of course, given Casanova’s often-detailed accounts of card-playing over this period, these would have been a regular deck of playing cards, certainly nothing associated with tarot or Lenormand as we see it now.

The text continues later with the “reading” itself, following Casanova’s return from a night of his usual escapades:

I got home, and, fortunately for myself, escaped the bottle which Zaira flung at my head, and which would infallibly have killed me if it had hit me. She threw herself on to the ground, and began to strike it with her forehead. I thought she had gone mad, and wondered whether I had better call for assistance; but she became quiet enough to call me assassin and traitor, with all the other abusive epithets that she could remember. To convict me of my crime she showed me twenty-five cards, placed in order, and on them she displayed the various enormities of which I had been guilty.

I let her go on till her rage was somewhat exhausted, and then, having thrown her divining apparatus into the fire, I looked at her in pity and anger, and said that we must part the next day, as she had narrowly escaped killing me.

What follows is the original French, followed by a closer look at its translation:

Pour me convaincre de mon crime (of the night before), elle me montre un carré de vingt-cinq cartes où elle me fait lire toutes les débauches qui m’avaient tenu dehors toute la nuit. Elle me montre la garce, le lit, les combats et jusqu’à mes égarements contre nature. Je ne voyais rien du tout mais elle s’imaginait de voir tout.

Après lui avoir laissé dire, sans l’interrompre, tout ce qui pouvait servir à soulager sa jalousie et sa rage, je pris son grimoire que je jetai au feu.

Which translates in more detail as:

To convince me of my crime (of the night before), she shows me a square of twenty-
five cards which she makes me read all the debauchery that had kept me out all night. She shows me the bitch, the bed, fighting, and even my wanderings against nature. I saw nothing at all but she imagined seeing everything.

After having been told, without interruption, everything that could be used to relieve her jealousy and rage, I took her spellbook that I threw into the fire.

That is to suggest that she laid out twenty-five playing cards in a square and then read through them the “bitch,” “bed,” “fighting,” and so forth. We will come to see how these matrix layouts are common in Lenormand reading, particularly 3 x 3 squares, 4 x 4 squares, and the Grand Tableau using all thirty-six cards.

Artwork of the time shows many other layouts, usually a matrix layout, horseshoe, or pyramid. We will provide a selection of these layouts for you try at the conclusion of this book as well as sample readings to assist your own interpretations.

A Cartomantic Revelation

The rolling dice, in whom your luck does stand,

(With whose unhappy chance ye be so wroth)

Ye know yourself came never in my hand.

Lo, in this pond be fish and frogs both.

Cast in your net; but be you leve or loath,

Hold you content as Fortune liste assign

[For] it is your own fishing, and not mine.

—Thomas More, Fortune Verses (c. 1504)

Before we start our practical lessons, we wanted to tell you something really important about cartomancy, and the history of Lenormand and tarot. It may totally change the way you think about cards and is very simple. Originally, the cards themselves did not have meanings.

We’ll say that again: the cards never had meanings. To historians, this is an obvious thing; however, for many of us card readers it is perhaps a little hard to wrap our heads around the idea, having spent our lives learning the meanings of the cards. So, let’s take another look at this revelation and see how it affects not only the way we think about our cards—and how the Lenormand and other cards fit into the tradition—but also how we read them.

A Bit More History

Long before Lenormand and tarot, there was a craze (a little like the Lenormand, which is now having a second renaissance in English, like a key opening a rose) for things called fortune books. These oracular books contained a variety of verses, giving both questions and answers for all likely predicaments. They were consulted with a range of means: by casting dice, pulling threads fastened to various pages, turning a paper wheel embedded in the book, counting the number of letters in one’s name, and of course, by drawing cards.

One would then consult an appropriate portion of text that would often lead (a bit like a contemporary “choose your own adventure” book) to branching avenues of verse and oracle, based on some further combination of your dice or decision.

These books were so popular that even the famous Thomas More and William Lilly translated one such book from the Italian, in about 1500. This was the Libro delle Sorti (1474) of Lorenzo Spiriti.

There is a similar fortunetelling book in the library of the Royal Society in London, which Marcus visited to view last year. This is the Triompho di fortuna (the Triumph of Fortune) by Sigismondo Fanti, published in Venice in 1527.

The book is full of incredible woodcut drawings, some of which have a coincidental similarity to tarot card images.

As these books became popular, English equivalents eventually started to appear from the early 1700s onwards. One such original book we went to look at last year had questions such as whether children would be dutiful or whether you would die rich or poor. Other questions perhaps are more suited to the time, such as “In what kind of cattle, beasts, or poultry is it best to deal?” It is interesting that these books often chose the question as well as the answer, making it more of a parlour game.13

As time went on, often these questions, verses, and answers were depicted next to the playing cards that might have been chosen for that particular route. So it was only a matter of time for people to simplify the whole method (who wanted to buy a big book when you only needed cards?) by writing down a simplified form of the verses on a pack of cards. Also, perhaps it became even more obvious to have a small vignette (picture) on the playing card, to help with the interpretation!

So over time, the cards became stuck with one meaning, one image, one set of interpretations. But this was not how they started—they started as keys to unlock a separate book of meanings, map of routes, and set of oracles. So when we are reading playing cards, they have no meanings, they just point us to possible verses and meanings. When we read tarot, they have “traditional” meanings.

The Lenormand stands as a bridge between these two phases—the cards only have meanings when considered with the whole tableau, and at the same time have some limited and fixed meanings, such as the anchor being hope or faith. In our Lenormand reading, then, we must recall: The cards are the keys, not the doors.

Now let us go ahead and take those keys … and unlock the doors.

[contents]