AUTHOR’S NOTE: I’m constantly seeking innovative ways to extract more interpretive value from the set of esoteric correspondences devised by the Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn for the Minor Arcana of the tarot. Here is my latest attempt.

In musical composition and performance there is the concept of “tension and release” by which the composer or artist creates aural suspense through the use of dynamic phrasing and then resolves (or releases) that built-up tension in the subsequent, quieter “bridging” passage, an evolution that is intended to draw an emotional response from the listener. (This philosophical treatise was inspired by observing how effectively Neil Young evoked musical tension with his sparse three-note guitar runs and just as economically dispelled it in his old song Cowgirl in the Sand.)

When considering how this might be conveyed by the cards of the Minor Arcana, I was intrigued by the idea that those cards sitting diametrically opposite one another on the Golden Dawn’s “Chaldean” wheel of correspondences (see below) might act as a similar “evoking-and-dispelling” duality, particularly if the leading card of a pair is difficult in nature. But there are a couple of problems with this notion, and one reasonable – albeit multi-part – solution.

First off, any two cards on opposite sides of the wheel reside in signs that are elementally friendly to one another, either positive Fire and Air or negative Water and Earth; thus, rather than resolving anything, the complementary card in each pair (that is, the second one in the sequence) is likely to reinforce the emphasis of the first card due strictly to elemental alignment. Furthermore, single cards opposite one another in this array are of the same number, “doubling-down” on the numerical symbolism. Take, for example, the disruptive Fives: the 5 of Wands (Strife) in Leo opposes the 5 of Swords (Defeat) in Aquarius, so no relief can be found there, and it cuts the same way regardless of which card appears first in a spread. When the leading card is fortunate, the situation can be more benign: the 6 of Cups (Pleasure) is paired with the 6 of Disks (Success), producing no tension and therefore requiring no resolution. The correlation is not always exact, but it works well enough.

I went looking for another angle (literally, since I’m working with standard astrological degrees of separation), and figured that I might find a “tension-and-release” scenario in the signs that are in “square” (90-degree) aspect to one another. But it didn’t get any better. Moving 90 degrees counter-clockwise from the 5 of Wands in the first decan of Leo, we arrive at the 5 of Cups (Disappointment) in the first decan of Scorpio, and going the same distance clockwise we come to the 5 of Disks (Worry) in the first decan of Taurus. If anything, it gets worse (which, on reflection, is a keynote of the square aspect).

Next, I examined the 120-degree “trine” combinations, which are noted for their harmonious influence, and found a somewhat less dismal match-up (although still not resoundingly purgative). The 5 of Wands yields to the 8 of Wands (Swiftness) in the counter-clockwise direction, which suggests “swift retribution,” and to the 2 of Wands (Dominion) along the clockwise arc, generating a recipe for “strong-arm tactics.” (Merging Strife with Swiftness and Dominion – all in the fiery suit of Wands – paints a word-picture that echoes what Elon Musk is going through; if he wasn’t so obscenely rich, looking at these cards we might well say “It sucks to be you”). In all cases, the two cards so aligned are from the same suit.

Finally, I progressed to the 60-degree “sextile” arrangement, which is treated like a weak trine in astrology: it is mildly favorable but requires more coaxing to impart its benefits. In this case, the 5 of Wands is joined with the 2 of Swords (Peace) in the counter-clockwise direction (once again in elementally-friendly signs), and with the 8 of Swords (Interference) when moving clockwise. Here I’m striking closer to the heart of what I’m after, since in both instances the second card mitigates the headlong charge of the first one.

I find it extremely interesting that with both the trine and sextile pairs the binary numbers “2” and “8” are prominent, because according to Joseph Maxwell the “even” numbers are passive, balanced and receptive while the “odd” numbers are active, unbalanced and projective. So in my example, the 5 of Wands “thrusts” and the Two and Eight, which together total twice Five, team up to “absorb” that offensive strike. Taking this idea further, we could say that the unstable Five achieves its culmination (and perhaps its “comeuppance”) in the impassive Ten, and if all three cards of the set appear in a reading there could be an overall sense of “release” even though when taken in pairs the cards may increase rather than reduce the implied “tension.”

For comparative completeness, I quickly scanned the profile for a more positive “leading” card, the 4 of Wands (Completion), and came up with a marginally “kinder, gentler” delineation in astrological terms: starting with Venus in Aries, the series runs Sun in Gemini (10 of Swords at the waxing, counter-clockwise sextile angle); Moon in Cancer (4 of Cups at the waxing square); Mars in Leo (7 of Wands at the waxing trine); Jupiter in Libra (4 of Swords at the opposition); Saturn in Sagittarius (10 of Wands at the clockwise, waning trine); Sun in Capricorn (4 of Disks at the waning square); and Moon in Aquarius (7 of Swords at the waning sextile).

Thus, the narrative in the Thoth universe reads Completion (a temporary cessation of effort); Ruin (the inevitable post-completion collapse); Luxury (rising from the ashes); Valour (struggling to maintain one’s new-found dominance); Truce (stoic acceptance of the status quo); Oppression (a consequence of extreme passivity); Power (once again flexing its muscles); and Futility (the upshot of an abuse of power). It’s still a bit of an emotional “roller-coaster ride” but it is arguably less onerous than the theme extracted from the 5-of-Wands sequence.