Papers from LilliputPriestley, J. B. (John Boynton)
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Papers from Lilliput
Priestley, J. B. (John Boynton)
English essays -- 20th century
So I lost no time in making myself acquainted with the art, and boredom
fled. Nor could I have found a better preceptor, for in this little book
all was revealed; with fitting gravity and wealth of detail, it set
forth the meaning of the cards and the various methods of laying them
out. Each card had a distinct meaning, which was modified by the
presence of other cards. All this was made clear, but the instructions
were delightfully free from pedantry: ‘If intuition leads you to give a
different meaning, do so’ was the advice it tendered--and what could be
better? There was good reason attached to the meaning of some few of the
cards, which had a very pretty symbolism. What else could the Queen of
Hearts be but a fair woman? What could be a better symbol of death than
the Ace of Spades reversed? Never again shall I see that innocent piece
of pasteboard without feeling a sudden chill. But the symbolism of most
of the cards was not so obvious. Why--it might be asked--should the
eight of diamonds represent a roadway journey, the nine of spades
disappointment and tears, the ace of clubs a letter of good news? These
are mysteries, and not to be lightly comprehended. All the cards,
however, are alike in this: they stand for the life that the centuries
leave unchanged, the eternal verities of human existence, the things
that are significant alike to the emperor and the clown; they do not
adapt themselves to any pale, half-hearted way of living, but are
downright and talk boldly of birth, death, and marriage, of jealousy,
love and anger, of quarrels, accidents, and sudden endings. As to the
various methods of shuffling, cutting and laying out the cards, the
little book dealt with all these matters with high seriousness and at
some length; and no sooner was I acquainted with one or two of the
methods than I began to put them into practice. ‘These coloured scraps
of pasteboard,’ I said to myself, as I ranged the cards, ‘shall be the
tiny windows through which I will stare at the past, and peer
wonderingly into the future. And I shall be as a god.’
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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