(Tarot Prompts for Writers)
What I See in the Card:
Death is a scary card. We try to interpret it positively — oh no, don’t be nervous; it only means a clearing away of the old to make room for the new — but it’s still scary. Change is scary, endings are scary, and the Death card implies serious changes and endings. Of course we fear this card. We’re attached to every bit of our lives, and we don’t like to think of any of it being cleared away. Even if that frees us for something else.
The Death card rarely foretells actual physical death. (But sometimes it does. Like if you were ill and drew this card — it’s enough to make an unbeliever nervous.) More often, it foretells the end of something else — a relationship, a pursuit, a chapter of your life. Not a loss of life, but a loss of some part of life. And whatever you’re about to lose, it won’t be easy.
Death is the thirteenth card in the deck. Not a lucky number. No one feels lucky when they draw this card.
Typically, the card depicts the Grim Reaper in the act of reaping. He carries a scythe and cuts away.
You can see many crowned heads in the soil where Death has been working. The card reminds us that everything and everyone is swept away by Death — queens and paupers both. Lives, ideas, empires — everything dies.
All your dreams and hopes and achievements will be swept away just like this, and the Death card tells you to keep this in mind. Your time here is not limitless. You have no idea what the limits are.
The landscape of Death is dreary. Grey sky, black earth. The flashes of red on the reaper’s head and loins suggest blood. Death is messy.
The reaper takes no pleasure in his reaping. He looks blank, neither happy nor sad. Just doing his job. What he definitely doesn’t look is persuadable. There’s nothing you have that can move Death. He’s going to do what he’s going to do and there’s no stopping him. Though we feel special and hope we’ll be exempted, we’re not and we won’t. Nothing wants to die, but everything dies. Even jellyfish, eventually.
Death reminds us that our place in the world is temporary, and our control over our lives is illusory. Of course, we all know that death is necessary, that life feeds on death, that things must give way to other things. When one door closes, yada yada. But it’s still hard.
When you draw this card, it tells you that you’ve reached a time in your life when you should keep Death in mind — yours and others and ever part of it. You may find that you live more fully if you think, each day, “This will not last.”
Perhaps the Death card can inspire you to take steps to make life last longer — either physically, by taking greater care of your health and behaviour, or mentally, by relishing your life. Or perhaps the card can inspire you to be kinder to the dying, which is all of us, including yourself, and to embrace the gift of life while it lasts.
For it will be taken away. And what a shame if you didn’t appreciate it when you had it.
Read will take you to my notes on how to tell a fortune with Death — traditional interpretations; what the card might mean in different positions; keywords to help memorize meanings; and questions to ponder or ask the querent.
Write will take you to a few prompts for launching from Death into a story. A first line, a character, and a point of view — three possible ways to turn Death into fiction.
Tarot will take you to a central Tarot-Prompts page.
Go ahead, clear the way for something new.
Images on this page are by the following artists:
Banner (and top box), left to right: Marseilles deck engraved by Nicolas Conver; Dragon Tarot illustrated by Roger and Linda Garland; Tarot Balbi by Domenico Balbi; Gilded Tarot by Ciro Marchetti; Radiant Rider-Waite deck illustrated by Pamela Colman Smith; Druid Craft deck illustrated by Will Worthington.
Mid-page boxes: Tarot Balbi; Guardian of the Night tarot by MJ Cullinane.
Catherine Austen 