The Club Dumas

“Ars diavoli,” said  Corso  casually,  and the  baroness half smiled, nodding mysteriously. But he knew, from Fulcanelli and other ancient texts, that the term “Mirror of the Art” came not from demonology but from alchemy. He wondered how much charlatanism lay beneath the baroness’s display of erudition. He sighed to himself. He felt like a gold prospector standing up to his waist in the river, sieve in hand. After all, he thought, she had to find something to fill her five-hundred-page bestsellers.

But Frieda Ungern had moved on to the third engraving.

“The motto is VERB. D.SUM C.S.T. ARCAN. This stands for VERBUM DIMISSUM CUSTODIAT ARCANUM. It can be translated as ‘The lost word keeps the secret.’ And the engraving is significant: a bridge, the union between the light and the dark banks. From classical mythology to Snakes and Ladders, its meaning is clear. Like the rainbow, it links earth with heaven or hell.... To cross this one, of course, one has to open the fortified gates.”

“What about the archer hiding in the clouds?” This time his voice shook as he asked the question. In books one and two, the quiver hanging from the archer’s shoulder was empty. In book three, it contained an arrow. Frieda Ungern was resting her finger on it.

“The bow is the weapon of Apollo and Diana, the light of the supreme power. The wrath of the god, or God. It’s the enemy lying in wait for anyone crossing the bridge.” She leaned forward and said quietly and confidentially, “Here it represents a terrible warning. It’s not advisable to trifle with this sort of thing.”

Corso nodded and moved on to the fourth engraving. He could sense the fog lifting in his mind. Doors opening with a sinister creak. Now he was looking at the joker and his stone labyrinth, with the caption: FOR. N.N OMN. A.QUE. Frieda Ungern translated is as FORTUNA NON OMNIBUS AEQUE: Fate is not the same for all.

“The character is similar to the madman in the tarot,” she explained. “God’s madman in Islam. And, of course, he’s also holding a stick or symbolic serpent.... He’s the medieval fool, the joker in a pack of cards, the jester. He symbolizes destiny, chance, the end of everything, the expected or unexpected con­clusion. Look at the dice. In the Middle Ages, jokers were priv­ileged beings. They were permitted to do things forbidden to others. Their purpose was to remind their masters that they were mortal, that their end was as inevitable as other men’s.” “Here he’s stating the opposite,” objected Corso. “Fate is not the same for all.”

“Of course. He who rebels, exercises his freedom, and takes the risk can earn a different fate. That’s what this book is about, hence the joker, paradigm of freedom. The only truly free man, and also the most wise. In occult philosophy the joker is identified with the mercury of the alchemists. Emissary of the gods, he guides souls through the kingdom of shadows....” “The labyrinth.”

“Yes. There it is.” She pointed at the engraving. “And, as you can see, the entry door is closed.”

So is the exit, thought Corso with an involuntary shudder. He turned to the next engraving.

“This legend is simpler,” he said. “FR.ST.A. It’s the only one I dare take a guess at. I’d say there’s a u and an r missing: FRUSTRA. Which means ‘in vain.’ “

“Very good. That’s exactly what it says, and the picture matches the caption. The miser is counting his gold pieces, unaware of Death, who holds two clear symbols: an hourglass and a pitchfork.”

“Why a pitchfork and not a scythe?” “Because Death reaps, but the devil harvests.” They stopped at the sixth engraving, the man hanging from the battlements by his foot. Frieda Ungern pretended to yawn with boredom, as if it was too obvious.

“DIT.SCO M.R stands for DITESCO MORI, I am enriched by death, a sentence the devil can utter with his head held high. Don’t you think?”

“I suppose so. It’s his trade, after all.” Corso ran a finger over the engraving. “What does the hanged man symbolize?”

“Firstly, arcanum twelve in the tarot. But there are other possible interpretations. I believe it symbolizes change through sacrifice.... Are you familiar with the saga of Odin?

Wounded, I hung from a scaffold

swept by the winds,

for nine long nights....

You can make the following associations,” continued the bar­oness. “Lucifer, champion of freedom, suffers from love of mankind. And he provides mankind with knowledge through sacrifice, thus damning himself.”

“What can you tell me about the seventh engraving?” “DIS.S P.TI.R MAG. doesn’t seem very clear at first. But my guess is that it’s a traditional saying, one much liked by occult philosophers: DISCIPULUS POTIOR MAGISTRO.” “The disciple surpasses the master?”