The Tarot of Marsilio: An inquiry into the origins of the Tarot de Marseille. Volume 1 – Down Here|
Christophe Poncet
London: Scarlet Imprint, 2024, 208 p. ISBN 978-1-912316-70-0 (cloth)
Illustrated throughout in colour. Issued in 2 editions – fine/standard hardback
Introduction
The ‘Tarot of Marsilio: An inquiry into the origins of the Tarot de Marseille. Volume 1 – Down Here’ (or ‘TofM Vol 1’) sets a new benchmark in the iconographic and iconological study of the historical tarot; and in doing so, decisively revises both the developmental history and significance of the cards. As we have come to expect from Scarlet Imprint, the production values realised in this work are of the highest order; enjoying a level of design and colour illustration that make it a work of elegance and enduring beauty.
Readers need to be aware that this opus possesses a larger structure; for whereas Volume 1 – somewhat whimsically sub-titled ‘Down Here’ – examines just eight of the trump cards (the Chariot, the Devil, the Lovers, Strength, the Hermit, the House of God, Arcanum XIII and the Fool); the reader will have to wait for Volumes 2 and 3 (respectively sub-titled ‘Higher’ and ‘Three Times Seven’) in order to encompass the full scale and grandeur of Poncet’s project. The upshot is that the present review is limited to volume one; and the reviewer is therefore unable to encompass Poncet’s larger project.
That said, and based upon my reading of Volume 1, I am confident that this opus is destined to be one of the seminal works of modern tarot scholarship; and to be an essential addition to the library of all who are interested in the origins, history, iconography and iconology of the historical tarot.
Along with our previous joint work (Two Esoteric Tarots)[1] and my earlier work (The Game of Saturn);[2] the combined weight of Poncet’s present research surely, and decisively, tips the balance and relegates Dummett’s views concerning the absence of any deeper significance to the tarot before the 19th century to the dustbin of discarded ideas.
The TofM Vol 1 analyses the iconographic and iconological provenance of the Tarot de Marseilles (TdM) tradition of tarot cards; a distinct pattern of iconography that provides the template for most subsequent, iconologically significant (rather than merely decorative) tarot decks. To be clear, by ‘iconography’ I mean ‘visual language’ (that’s to say, a series of thematically related images); and by ‘iconology’, the significance or meaning of that imagery; in other words, what the language – the iconography – is attempting to convey.
Poncet’s analysis is based on the 1760 Nicolas Conver Tarot de Marseilles (TdM). His main thesis is that details evident in this specific recension of the TdM can only be explained by reference to Marsilio Ficino’s larger project of recovering the Hellenistic theurgical and spiritual inheritance (as found in Ficino’s translations of Plato’s dialogues, the Hermetica and late-Platonic (or ‘Neoplatonic’) texts and commentaries on Plato’s ideas). The conclusion of Poncet’s highly detailed and well-illustrated argument is that the 18th century Conver TdM’s iconographic and iconological provenance can be traced to the latter half of the 15th century; and more specifically to Marsilio Ficino’s ‘Neoplatonic’ circle (the so-called ‘Platonic Academy’) in Florence.
We may feel inclined, at this early stage, to interject that if there is, indeed, evidence of Platonising content in the Conver TdM; it could just as easily have been introduced when the cards were designed in the 18th century. Poncet’s analysis, however, is far more nuanced and more searching to permit such easy rationalisations. However, we need to follow the course of his argument, developed over the course of many years, as it reveals, layer upon layer, the hidden gold of his discovery.
Poncet’s Argument
Summarising Poncet’s detailed, and well-documented arguments, I adduce the following essential points: Firstly, that certain specific details peculiar to the Conver TdM – for example, those appearing on the trump called the Chariot – are uniquely attributable to the writings of Marsilio Ficino. Secondly, that the Conver’s figural designs for the Cardinal Virtues can be demonstrated as having been derived from the work of one of the most renowned Renaissance artists, Sandro Botticelli (1445-1510). (Botticelli did, indeed, enjoy close intellectual and spiritual ties to Marsilio Ficino and Florence’s esoteric Neoplatonic circle; and his major works, most notably, perhaps, the Primavera but including The Birth of Venus, are imbued with the spirit of Neoplatonism). The critical point, however, is that the original, demonstrable source of the TdM designs of the Cardinal Virtues are not only by the hand of Botticelli, but were buried long before the Conver TdM was designed; they could not, therefore, have found their way into the cards other than by transmission from the fifteenth century. Botticelli’s originals – that confirm his designs are the basis for the TdM – were not recovered until the 1930s.
Within the limits of a review such as this, it is impossible to do more than provide an overview of the full scope and detail of Poncet’s scholarship (which is profound). Nevertheless, we can at least outline the main thrust of his research in one or two areas. To appreciate the full force of his arguments, however, it is necessary to be able to situate them in their historical context – the Neoplatonic circles that emerged in 15th-century Italy.
The Neoplatonic Circles & Performativity
“All the Greeks’ theology is the offspring of the Orphic mystical doctrine” Proclus. Platonic Theology, 1.6.
Neoplatonism was a school of esoteric thought and practice that arose in and around the third century CE; and which developed a disciplinary regime for achieving spiritual development leading to henosis, or mystical union, with the Hellenic gods. This tradition was itself developed from archaic practices and ideas best described as ‘generically Orphic’; by which I mean such ideas as: the immortality of the soul; metempsychosis; the providential outreach of the gods and the salvific value of theurgic rites.
These principles already formed a significant thread in Plato’s Dialogues; and evolved to become a significant element in subsequent Hellenistic spiritual culture. Understood as constituting a primordial theological tradition (or prisca theologia, an idea inherited from Proclus in the 5th century CE)[3] they were transmitted to the courts of Italy by scholars – such as Giovanni Aurispa and Guarino da Verona – returning from having studied with Hellenistic scholars in Constantinople during the opening decades of the 15th century. These traditions were further vivified by lectures on the superiority of Plato to Aristotle delivered by the Byzantine imperial advisor, George Gemistus[4] (aka Plethon,) – a Platonic expert and practising Hellenist – in Ferrara, Florence and, possibly, other cities, starting in 1438;[5] and supplemented by clearly heretical materials: a complete system of Hellenistic liturgical practice (the Laws); a Saturnian metaphysical framework derived from the Olympian mythos (Summary of the Doctrines of Zoroaster and Plato); and, based on the iconography of the Sola-Busca, instructions on the ritual practice of theurgy.[6]
It was these fundamental beliefs and their related practices that later scholars, such as Marsilio Ficino, sought to assimilate to Christianity; and hence re-align the West’s spiritual culture with what he saw as the world’s primoridal spiritual traditions. The ensuing course of events, however, effectively put a stop to this lofty scheme. The Church’s all too evident corruption triggered the breakaway movement known as the Reformation; and the violence associated with the Church’s reaction to this, the Counter-Reformation, put paid to any such hopes for the next two centuries; and indeed, arguably until the Peace of Westphalia and the Rosicrucian Enlightenment of the 17th century.
During the 15th century, however, various circles of scholars and artists, inspired by this Neoplatonic spiritual vision (that’s to say, essentially ‘Orphic’ spiritual vision), sought ways to bring it to life. In working to achieve this, and this appears to have generally escaped notice in recent scholarship, they adopted a decidedly performative, rather than merely scholarly, orientation to this endeavour. They were, pre-eminently, engaged in esoteric practices; and more specifically, the Hellenistic practice of theurgy.
Theurgy was a technique for invoking a spiritual entity or being into possessing a person or object; and hence of ‘divinising’ it. This technique, arising in the context of the mystery schools of antiquity, is usually associated with the Syrian Neoplatonist, Iamblichus; but it was also taught in the Neoplatonic School of Athens throughout the fifth century CE. The school’s students subsequently spread the practice throughout the Hellenistic oecumen and the evidence seems to suggest that it was transferred to the Italian city-states by the Hellenist and Byzantine imperial advisor George Gemistus (Plethon) during his sojourn there from 1438.
The diaries of Ficino’s student, and subsequent successor as head of the Florentine Neoplatonic circle, Francesco Diacetto, provide detailed instructions on the proper means of invoking the god Apollo (which include the liturgy, dress code, and the use of sympathetic substances).[7] Apollo was a highly significant deity in Ficino’s account of the four positive ‘manias’, or sources of divine inspiration (the prophetic, poetic, telestic and erotic) cited in Plato’s ‘Phaedrus’;[8] and the spiritual significance of incorporating them into the spiritual path, in order to encompass theurgic ascent, was first suggested by Iamblichus, evolved into the ‘Ladder of Virtues’ in the school of Athens; and subsequently found their place in a number of Ficino’s major works over the years.[9]
That this is so should come as no surprise. After all, we have overwhelming evidence for the near universal resort to magical practices – folk, goetic and astral – at every level of Renaissance society;[10] and never more so than amongst the clergy of Richard Kieckhefer’s ‘clerical underworld’.[11] But whereas goetic sorcery had a somewhat equivocal status in the eyes of the religious authorities, and was in any case largely the preserve of the clergy; polytheistic Hellenistic practices were clearly beyond the pale. Given the watchfulness of the Church authorities, extreme caution needed to be exercised even when writing about these subjects. As a result, concrete evidence for actual theurgic practice is extremely difficult to come by (evidence concerning the ritual practices of Rome’s circle in the catacombs only emerged in the 19th century; and the Ferrarese penchant for theurgy was only revealed with the decoding of the Sola-Busca tarocchi in 2017).[12] To underline just how risky this behaviour was, the members of Rome’s Neoplatonic circle were arrested, tortured and imprisoned; and, based solely upon his writings, Ficino himself came under Papal suspicion, but was able to allay concerns.[13]
Another dimension of the Renaissance engagement with performativity arises in connection with Ficino’s reception of Proclus’ views concerning the dynamic role that imagery plays in connection with the faculty known as the phantasia – the creative imagination; a perspective that also challenges naive views on the supposed absence of a magical dimensions to the Neoplatonic circle’s active engagement with imagery generally, and with the tarot more specifically.
The Creative Imagination or Phantasia
Ficino’s extensive translations of, and commentaries on, Plato’s ideas – along with the card’s designs – signifies that the cards themselves formed an integral part of the academy’s larger pedagogical program; one in which the new Game of Tarot served multiple purposes: as a game; as an aide mémoire to Plato’s metaphysics; and as I previously outlined, it may well also – through the employment of the creative imagination or Phantasia – have provided an instrument for negotiating theurgic ascent. My guess is that much of this material may well be covered in the forthcoming volumes; and more especially, the final volume, which aspires to provide an encompassing account of the practical uses of Ficino’s design for the twenty-two trumps. So much for the historical background, and central thrust of this work; what about the evidence?
Botticelli, the Cardinal Virtues, Temperance and Justice
For me, at least, the pièce d’resistance in this process of unfolding revelation is Poncet’s treatment of the Temperance card. The discovery and subsequent decade long restoration of a series of frescoes depicting the Cardinal Virtues in the Esztergom Palace in Hungary led to a long-standing controversy concerning their attribution. The evidence marshalled by Poncet points, convincingly I believe, to the conclusion that not only were these works executed by the hand of Botticelli; but that one in particular is nearly identical to – and hence, potentially, the source of – the TdM Temperance card; an attribution that implicates Botticelli in the design of the TdM. Poncet enjoins a similar argument for the, badly eroded, fresco of Justice. Furthermore, Botticelli’s original designs – that we see so distinctly reflected in the design of the cards depicting the Cardinal Virtues – were ‘lost’ when the palace was destroyed and burned down in the series of wars between the 16th and 17th centuries; and were only rediscovered in the 1930s; so their unmistakeable influence upon the design of the Cardinal Virtues that grace the TdM cards could only have originated at an earlier date, that’s to say in the 15th century; which is, incidentally, when the trumps were first being designed and added to a standard deck of playing cards to form the first tarot pack.
Theurgic Ascent & the Chariot
In the case of the Chariot, the TdM’s imagery is shown to be a graphic (rather than thematic) evolution of several related artistic developments. Poncet’s treatment of the thematic issue, however, suddenly expands the context to reveal a deeper source of inspiration laying behind the TdM’s imagery; and as the text proceeds, unveils the profundity underpinning the card’s inspiration. As Poncet points out, Ficino’s commentary on Plato’s classic account of the ‘Chariot of the Soul’ introduces details not attested in Plato’s original text; but which demonstrably feature on the Chariot card. Once granted, Poncet’s meticulous marshalling of the iconographic evidence begins the process of tipping his thesis from the realm of the merely ‘possible’ towards the more than probable.
Conclusions
Poncet’s writing style is clear and uncluttered, the pace unhurried but always engaging. He probes and questions the imagery with reference to artistic parallels and textual sources in a way that is profoundly immersive. Each chapter commences with a narrative that reprises the twists and turns of Poncet’s inquiry – his observations, reactions, the questions that his careful scrutiny gave rise to and how he planned to proceed – so that we, the reader, are in effect invited inside the investigative process and engaged in the step by step process of interrogating the imagery; formulating questions; and then seeking to unravel, its complexities.
Card by card, Poncet meticulously takes us through the process by which he recovered the iconographic provenance of each card’s imagery based upon primary artistic materials; close observation of fine detail; and comparative historical and textual research. Poncet performs a virtuoso exercise in iconographic connoisseurship to create an evidential chain that convincingly explains – and hence allows us to re-contextualise and re-appraise – the origins of the TdM tradition. Poncet painstakingly demonstrates the organic growth of the TdM’s imagery from specific, well-attested artistic and literary sources; and provides a convincing historical context and timeline for this to be not only a possibility but a distinct and demonstrable probability. I cannot recommend this text enough to all tarot history enthusiasts; and I look forward to the release of the remaining volumes of this original, indeed ground-breaking, analysis of the TdM tradition.
by Peter Mark Adams
[1] Adams, P.M. & Poncet, C. (2023) Two Esoteric Tarots.
[2] Adams, P.M. (2017) The Game of Saturn: Decoding the Sola-Busca Tarocchi.
[3] Proclus. Platonic Theology. Book I, 5
[4] Gemistus. Appendix II Summary of the Doctrines of Zoroaster and Plato. In: Adams, P.M. (2017) The Game of Saturn: Decoding the Sola-Busca Tarocchi.
[5] Marsilio Ficino. Theologia Platonica.
[6] Adams, P.M. (2017) The Game of Saturn
[7] Walker, D.P. (1958). Spiritual and Demonic Magic from Ficino to Campanella: 32–33.
[8] Plato. Phaedrus. 244a-d.
[9] Hanegraaf, W. (2010) The Platonic Frenzies in Marsilio Ficino. In: Dijkstra, J., Kroesen, J. & Kuiper, Y. (eds.) Myths, Martyrs, and Modernity: Studies in the Hstory of Religions in Honour of Jan N. Bremmer.
[10] Duni, M. (2007). Under the Devil’s Spell: Witches, Sorcerers and the Inquisition in Renaissance Italy: 69–74.
[11] Kieckhefer, R. (2000). Magic in the Middle Ages.
[12] Adams, P.M. (2017) The Game of Saturn: Decoding the Sola-Busca Tarocchi.
[13] Kristeller, P.O. (1985) Marsilio Ficino and the Roman Curia. Humanistica Lovaniensia, Vol. 34A, Roma Humanistica Studia in honorem Revi adm. Dni Dni Iosaei Ruysschaert: 83-98.
See also: review Two Esoteric Tarots
