AUTHOR’S NOTE: The title is a riff on ling chi, the ancient Chinese method of torture and execution that bled the victim to death over an extended period of time using myriad small cuts (technically, the methodical removal of body parts). In English it is variously called “slow slicing,” “lingering death,” or “death by a thousand cuts”

Of all the numbered “suit” cards in the Waite-Smith tarot, the 10 of Swords is arguably the one that most stubbornly resists a positive spin. What can possibly be encouraging about ten swords piercing one’s prostrate backside? To be fair, some readers see the warm glow spilling over the horizon as a “sunrise” that will dispel the gloom, but others view it as a “sunset” that will bring on a deeper night where healing can commence (I’m thinking of an “induced coma”). There is nothing else to suggest salvation for the victim, although modern readers are always looking for an upbeat alternative.

The name of the Thoth card is “Ruin” (Sun in Gemini), which is self-explanatory and slightly more discouraging because no opportunity to “just walk toward the light” is immediately obvious, even though Crowley observed that “ruin can never be complete” when a solar influence is present since recovery begins as soon as things become bad enough. (Sounds to me like a positivist talking, something I wouldn’t have expected of Crowley.) The image is not as evocative as the blood-dripping swords in the Nine, but the strain of impending wastage is palpable.

However, it has been brought to my attention that the scenario can be recast as providing the incentive to tackle a large, complex problem in many small “bites” that over time will produce a successful outcome. I still think it’s a stretch given the dire message in both versions, but I can accept the possibility if none of the other cards in the reading shows a way out of the dilemma. It reminds me of a quote from Bishop Desmond Tutu: “There is only one way to eat an elephant, one bite at a time.” In the RWS card, it looks like the “elephant” is being prepared for consumption, or the image could just be predating the line from the Eagle’s Hotel California: “They stab it with their steely knives but they just can’t kill the beast.”

In my own practice I call this the “scorched earth” card; there is nothing worth salvaging so it’s time to pick up the pieces and soldier on, not looking back as we depart for greener pastures. I once equated it to a crime scene that is only lacking police perimeter tape: “Nothing to see here, folks. Move along.” Since the ground is barren and the upper sky is dark, I prefer to see the distant radiance as evidence of a setting Sun that ushers in an even more profound spell of darkness. All of the Tens are enervated, and in the suit of Swords the impact is experienced as mental fatigue. The fallow field of the Ace of Pentacles awaits the plowshare but the energy and enthusiasm to cultivate it are currently lacking. If human beings could hibernate, this would be the time for it.