Rachel’s passing has brought a keen sense of loss—not only because we will never know what else she might have shared with the world, but also because her generous spirit touched so many people.
I’ll start out this post with a few quotes that capture different aspects of Rachels life and work. Then I’ll close with three of my own thoughts.
From another Tarot legend, and Rachel’s frequent co-teacher, Mary Greer:
These two from brilliant Tarot artists Carol Herzer and Alexandra Genetti:
And this wonderfully concise and correct note from Bobby Abate—whose work I’ve just discovered, and will write about soon.
Turning from Facebook to a more formal source, here a Neil Gaiman quote, from Rachel’s obituary in The Guardian:
Rachel was a beloved writer of fantasy, but I prefer to describe her as a magical realist. She wrote these wonderful books of heightened reality and magical worlds where she would concretise metaphor.
He goes on to say:
Rachel and I bonded over many, many things, one of which was Jewishness, and despite being a bastion of the new age she was also incredibly Jewish.
Rachel’s passing on Good Friday (in the Christian calendar), during the Jewish Passover (which this year began at sundown on Wednesday, April 5, and will end on Thursday, April 13), seems emblematic of her “Shining Tribe” vision . . . .
There are, of course, many things I would love to say about Rachel and her work—but for this post, I’ve limited myself to three brief items.
It’s very (very, very) hard to write both fiction and non-fiction well. But Rachel was an extraordinary novelist and an admirable scholar, whose Tarot books were not just clear and informative, but also entertaining and inspiring. As I surveyed the scope and excellence of her work, I was truly awestruck.
On top of that—she wrote in longhand, with a fountain pen. I cannot even imagine this. But you can hear Rachel talk about her fascination with fountain pens in this interview.
I realize now that all the facets of Rachel’s life and work are linked together in one word: Storyteller. She spoke at times about Tarot as a storytelling device, and of course her novels are dazzling displays of the storyteller’s art. All that goes without saying. But as I’ve looked over the personal reminiscences people have shared since her passing, it’s come home to me that whenever she interacted with someone, she wove a story for that person—and with that person. Taken all together, those stories have formed a sort of living mythology, nurtured by one person’s imagination.
I’m going to round out the “Rachel Notes” tomorrow with a little more lore—including a way to read her short story collection The Tarot of Perfection.
Til then, C
Thank you for sharing your thoughts on this lovely lady. There is no end to what she could do or be.