Prophetical, Educational and Playing Cards

In Short

This book provides a historical and mythological survey of playing cards, arguing that they are not mere toys but degenerate remnants of an ancient, sacred "Book of Thoth." By linking the imagery of the Tarot to Egyptian, Babylonian, and Greek deities—specifically Thoth, Nebo, and Mercury—the author seeks to restore a sense of gravity to the deck. It functions as a historical detective story, exploring why societies transitioned from consulting cards to know the future to using them to bet on the turn of a card.

The Story

The narrative begins by establishing that the common deck of cards is a survival of a far older, more profound system. The author posits that the "Book of Thoth," attributed to the Egyptian god of wisdom, was originally a collection of tablets used by priests to record the divine will or the fates of men. These symbols, once sacred, were maintained through generations by initiates and priests in temples dedicated to deities of communication and wisdom, such as the Assyrian Nebo and the Greek Mercury.

The arc of the book follows the slow secularization of these symbols. As the influence of the old cults waned—spurred by the rise of Christianity and the destruction of ancient temples—the ritualistic use of these "tablets of fate" began to fragment. The cards, once reserved for the serious business of life, birth, and death, drifted into the hands of fortune-tellers and, eventually, gamblers. The author traces how the original, highly symbolic Tarot deck was simplified over centuries. The French, in particular, are identified as the architects of the modern standard pack, having replaced the rich, variegated Tarot suits with the four simplified pips—hearts, diamonds, clubs, and spades—to better facilitate the quick, high-stakes games favored in Europe.

The author carefully differentiates between the Tarot, which retains vestiges of the original cults, and the "gambling packs," which she views as a hollowed-out evolution. She explores regional variations, from the Persian use of only the "Atout" (figure) cards to the German invention of specific heraldic symbols, demonstrating that every regional shift reflects a move further away from the original, scientific arrangement of the cards. The book moves from these broad historical shifts into the mechanics of the symbols themselves. Detailed chapters examine the attributes of Mercury—the caduceus, the cup, the sword, and the coin—and show how these elements survive in the suits of a standard deck.

The narrative culminates in a practical assessment of card-reading as it exists today. The author reviews the methods of notable occultists like Etteila and Mlle. le Normand, contrasting their attempts to reclaim the "true" use of cards with the shallow, commercialized decks produced by modern manufacturers. Ultimately, the book concludes that while the cards have been reduced to mere instruments of chance, their deeper, mythic language remains imprinted on the designs. By recovering the forgotten associations of the gazelle, the pig, or the number thirteen, the modern player might catch a glimpse of the ancient rites that once governed the human spirit, even if those secrets are now largely lost to the "triflers" of the world.

How It Unfolds

The ancient origin The author establishes that playing cards are the modern heirs to the "tablets of fate" used by Babylonian and Egyptian priests to divine the will of their gods. She argues that these cards were once a serious, sacred system of knowledge rather than a mere pastime.

The shift to amusement The narrative examines the transition of these symbols from the hands of temple initiates to the gambling tables of Europe. This section details how the original, complex Tarot decks were slowly abandoned in favor of simpler, regional designs better suited for games of chance.

The attributes of Mercury A major portion of the book breaks down the symbolism of the god Mercury, identifying his four sacred emblems—the cup, sword, coin, and wand—as the true ancestors of our modern card suits. The author links these symbols to their earlier counterparts in the worship of Thoth and Nebo.

The French intervention The text highlights the role of the French in creating the standard pack, which abandoned the "extravagantly blazoned" designs of the past for a clean, two-color system. The author views this as a definitive departure from the cards' original purpose as tools for reflection.

Methods of divination The final movement provides an overview of historical fortune-telling practices, including the methods of Etteila and Mlle. le Normand. It emphasizes that contemporary card-reading is often a shadow of the authentic, ancient traditions that have been largely lost to history.

The People

The book is centered on a series of mythological and historical figures who serve as the architects of the card's evolution. Thoth, the Egyptian deity, is the primary source of the original wisdom, credited with creating the "sacred books" that contain the secrets of the world. He represents the ideal of the priest-scholar who uses knowledge for the common good. Nebo, the Babylonian god of the writing tablet, is identified as a precursor whose influence established the practice of recording fate. Mercury, the most multifaceted of the figures, serves as the bridge between the sacred and the profane. He is the patron of the cards, embodying at once the divine messenger and the mercurial, sometimes irresponsible, spirit of the gambler.

Alongside these deities are the "initiates"—the anonymous, long-lived lineage of priests who maintained the secret meaning of the cards while the outside world began to treat them as toys. In contrast to these silent keepers, the author introduces figures like Etteila and Mlle. le Normand, who are portrayed as the modern, sometimes imperfect, attempts to revive the lost art of cartomancy. These fortune-tellers stand in opposition to the "triflers"—the gamblers and card-makers—who, by prioritizing convenience and profit, have obscured the cards' true, symbolic language. Each figure reflects a different phase in the cards' history, from the divine order established in the temples to the chaotic, vibrant, and often misunderstood games played in the markets and homes of later centuries.

In Its Own Voice

"I proclaim it aloud--What Has Been Will Be--I am Nebo--The Lord of the Writing Tablet--Glorify Me."

This serves as the opening invocation of the oracle, grounding the book's premise in the voice of the Babylonian deity responsible for the recording of fate.

"The German cards were never intended for fortune-telling, but entirely for gambling, and they have devices peculiarly their own."

The author draws a firm line between cards designed for sacred ritual and those created for the commercial interests of European gambling halls.

"There have been many persons who have interested themselves in the history of playing cards, and some of them have pierced the veil surrounding their cradle; but, generally, since these students have only been interested in the cards as toys or gambling instruments... the studies have not extended beyond the time when playing cards became common in Europe."

This critique highlights the author's frustration with historians who fail to look past the fourteenth century when investigating the origins of the deck.

What It's Really About

At its core, this book is an argument against the trivialization of human history. It posits that objects we assume to be mundane—like a deck of cards—carry the DNA of ancient, sophisticated belief systems that we have forgotten how to read. The underlying question is whether our modern, secular lives have lost something vital by discarding the symbolic language of our ancestors. The author argues that even as we play, we are engaging with the iconography of dying and rebirth, of the gods of wisdom and the laws of fate. It is a work about the persistence of symbols in the face of cultural change, suggesting that while the context of our play has shifted, the archetypal power of the cards remains waiting for those who can recognize it.

Why Read It Today

Readers with an interest in occult history, folklore, or the origins of games will find this a fascinating, if idiosyncratic, read. The tone is earnest and deeply researched, reflecting a period where scholars sought to connect the modern world to the ancient through a synthesis of mythology and history. It is not a casual guide to fortune-telling; it is a dense, academic exploration of how symbols migrate and transform.

The book is an excellent choice for those who enjoy "detective" history, where the author works to solve a mystery—in this case, the origin of the deck—by connecting disparate threads from antiquity. However, modern readers should be prepared for the author's intense bias in favor of her own theory, as well as the period-appropriate assumptions about "gypsies" and "primitive" peoples that flavor the text. The narrative can feel repetitive, as the author circles back to the same gods and attributes to reinforce her thesis. Yet, for all its structural rigidity, there is a genuine warmth in the author's reverence for her subject. You will walk away from it seeing a standard deck of cards not as a collection of mere paper, but as a silent, coded archive of human belief that refuses to be completely silenced by time.