- Home
- Cassandra Snow
Queering the Tarot
Queering the Tarot Read online
ADVANCE PRAISE FOR QUEERING THE TAROT
“Queering The Tarot is an indispensable book in the modern re-workings of the 600-year-old images, symbols, and stories—indispensable, not just for LGBTQQIPA2P+ people, but for anyone who wants to see how the tarot can expand and open to the world. For most of those 600 years, the images represented a hierarchical society assumed to consist of cisgendered, heterosexual white people, primarily of the privileged classes. People outside that ‘normality’ (a Dutch slogan from the 1980's: ‘Ever meet a normal person? And did you like it?’) learned to subtly code themselves into the pictures. But they didn't see themselves. Now we have a book that joyously embraces all those hidden people, using the cards not just to tackle queer issues but to celebrate who we all are. Is it only for queer people, then? Absolutely not. For ‘straight’ people, it will not only show them how the rest of the world lives—and how to read for queer people—but what may be most valuable, it will give them the experience of discovering themselves in a set of images and symbols not directly about them.”
—Rachel Pollack, author of Seventy-Eight Degrees of Wisdom
“Queering the Tarot takes the tarot cards that we all love and peels them back to their bones. From there, Cassandra Snow builds the cards anew, in a way that speaks to everyone regardless of their gender identity, sexuality, or gender expression. I have seen queer tarot cards save people's lives. I have seen the impact that diversity and representation have in my community. I am delighted that this book exists, and encourage everyone—queer, straight, or otherwise—to pick it up.”
—Melissa Cynova, author of Kitchen Table Tarot
“In Queering the Tarot, Cassandra Snow opens the world of tarot and makes it inclusive for the LGBTQ+ community and other marginalized folk. I think this may be one of the most important tarot books published in recent years. It gives much-needed representation and respect to a whole slice of the population that has been left out due to tarot's tendency to focus on white, cisgender, heteronormative. Queering the Tarot is a wonderful book whose time has come. It belongs on every serious tarot reader's shelf.”
—Theresa Reed, author of The Tarot Coloring Book and
coauthor of Tarot for Troubled Times
“Queering the Tarot doesn't just bring the tarot out of the closet. It dresses it up in drag (both queen and king) to show it off. This is a book that isn't afraid to challenge the binary gender paradigm from all angles. It doesn't matter if you are queer, straight, or somewhere else on the spectrum because Cassandra Snow unflinchingly casts aside the heteronormative dialogue to reveal a rich, nuanced view of this divinatory art. I was pleased to see the Urban Tarot used in the images as well. It is the perfect ‘gender-queer’ deck for this book. It is truly a keeper for anyone who wishes to broaden their tarot practice personally. I think it should be required for all professionals who want to be in touch and in tune with our diverse, beautiful population.”
—Arwen Lynch-Poe, editor and publisher at The Cartomancer magazine
“Learning to apply the wisdom embedded in each tarot card to specific situations is always a challenge. The challenge is heightened when your lifestyle may not be considered mainstream. Cassandra Snow leads us on a journey through the tarot that explores, acknowledges, and honors the experiences of nonstraight and/or noncisgendered folks. Her insights are valuable for both queer readers and for readers with queer clients.”
—Barbara Moore, author of The Steampunk Tarot, Llewellyn's Classic Tarot,
Your Tarot Your Way, and the founder of www.tarotshaman.com
This edition first published in 2019 by Weiser Books, an imprint of
Red Wheel/Weiser, LLC
With offices at:
65 Parker Street, Suite 7
Newburyport, MA 01950
www.redwheelweiser.com
Copyright © 2019 by Cassandra Snow
Foreword copyright © 2019 by Beth Maiden
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or
by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information
storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from Red Wheel/Weiser, LLC.
Reviewers may quote brief passages.
ISBN: 978-1-57863-648-8
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data available upon request
Cover detail from Temperance used by permission of the artist, Robin Scott.
Copyright © 2015 Robin Scott, robinscottart.com
Illustrations from the Urban Tarot reproduced by permission of U.S. Games Systems, Inc.,
Stamford, CT 06902 USA. Copyright © 2019 by U.S. Games Systems, Inc. Further reproduction
prohibited. The Urban Tarot is © 2015 Robin Scott, robinscottart.com
Printed in Canada
MAR
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
www.redwheelweiser.com/newsletter
To all the LGBTQ+ trailblazers to whom I owe everything,
including Genesis Moss (the first lesbian I ever saw on TV),
but especially the Sylvia Riveras, the Marsha P. Johnsons,
and the Harvey Milks of the world.
Thank you for making a better world for all of us,
and I dedicate Queering the Tarot to you.
CONTENTS
FOREWORD
WORD
WHAT IS QUEERING THE TAROT?
1
THE MAJOR ARCANA
The Fool
The Magician
The High Priestess
The Empress and The Emperor
The Hierophant
The Lovers
The Chariot
Strength
The Hermit
The Wheel of Fortune
Justice
The Hanged Man
Death
Temperance
The Devil
The Tower
The Star
The Moon
The Sun
Judgment
The World
2
THE SUIT OF WANDS
The Ace of Wands
The Two, Three, and Four of Wands
The Five and Seven of Wands
The Six and Eight of Wands
The Nine of Wands
The Ten of Wands
3
THE SUIT OF SWORDS
The Ace of Swords
The Two, Three, and Four of Swords
The Five and Seven of Swords
The Six of Swords
The Eight, Nine, and Ten of Swords
4
THE SUIT OF PENTACLES
The Ace of Pentacles
The Two of Pentacles
The Three of Pentacles
The Four of Pentacles
The Five of Pentacles
The Six of Pentacles
The Seven of Pentacles
The Eight of Pentacles
The Nine of Pentacles
The Ten of Pentacles
5
THE SUIT OF CUPS
The Ace, Two, and Three of Cups
The Four of Cups
The Five through Seven of Cups
The Eight of Cups
The Nine and Ten of Cups
6
THE COURT CARDS
The Page of Wands
The Knight of Wands
The Queen of Wands
The King of Wands
The Page of Swords
The Knight of Swords
The Queen of Swords
The King of Swords
The Page of Pentacles
The Knight of Pentacles
The Queen of Pentacles
The King of Pentacles
The Page of Cups
The Knight of Cups
The Queen of Cups
The King of Cups
FINAL THOUGHTS ON QUEERING THE TAROT
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
FOREWORD
Beth Maiden, July 2018
When I look at the surprisingly few, yet dearly loved books on the shelves of my tarot room, I am greeted warmly by queer family and friends. From the veteran Rachel Pollack's classic Seventy-Eight Degrees of Wisdom to Michelle Tea's fresh and impassioned Modern Tarot, from Barbara Moore's many and wide-ranging tarot guidebooks to the transgenerational project that is She Is Sitting in the Night by Rima Athar, Oliver Pickle, and Ruth West, LGBTQ+ folks are all over the tarotsphere, and this makes my queer heart sing.
That's not to mention the queer-centered decks that have recently exploded my once modest collection—The Numinous Tarot, the Shrine of the Black Medusa Tarot, the Malakh Halevanah deck, the Delta Enduring Tarot, and the Next World Tarot to name just a few—all the work of LGBTQ-identified creators who have found that tarot, with its infinite capacity for reframing, reinterpretation, retelling, is a perfect medium for sharing and exploring queer stories and experiences.
Whether comfortably taking up space in the mainstream conversation or fiercely reclaiming tarot to reflect the experience of marginalization, seizing the 78 cards we know as tarot and using them to reflect our experiences has become part of our community's lineage and literary canon. Through rereading and retelling the journeys found in the tarot, we explore our collective story, its struggles, its resilience, its growth. A deck of tarot cards in the hands of a young queer is every bit as important and vital as an esteemed text in the queer canon—each and every time the deck is picked up and we lay out those familiar cards, it becomes a new story, its well-known symbols and archetypes ready to be reshaped to reflect our many and diverse lived realities.
Why is it that queer folks are so drawn to tarot and other witchy, magical, or esoteric practices? I believe it has to do with a righteous reclaiming of the marginal spaces we inhabit. As we embrace what makes us different, we turn to tools and practices that have themselves been ridiculed or shamed. I spoke about the value of queer magic recently in an interview with queer designer and moon-witch Sarah Gottesdiener:
Queers—especially those with other intersecting marginal identities—tend to exist in the spaces the mainstream neglects: beautiful, scruffy, overgrown edgelands where we can experience a little freedom, support each other to thrive, get real about our pain, and continually look outward. We have to look outward because as well as being reviled and scapegoated, queers are also exotified and tokenized, and the radical spaces we create are rapidly gentrified and commodified, claimed by the mainstream, and sold back to us in plastic packaging. This is always painful, but I think queer folks are used to it. It can be fuel for the fire. We push boundaries and move a little further out of the mainstream, where we discover new sources of inspiration, create new kinds of magic.
We work to liberate ourselves and each other. Queers understand that personal and collective liberation are interwoven and we are used to supporting and uplifting each other in a way that runs counter to the me me me messages of the mainstream. We critique what we are offered (or sold) and turn it on its head.*
To a world that categorizes us as nonnormative, we say, “Your loss! We'll build our own communities, economies, and structures of care right over here.” Picking up affordable, accessible practices like tarot, astrology, and herbalism—folk tools that to the capitalist white heteropatriarchy are useless because they can't be neatly explained, co-opted, and sold—is part of this radical community-building process. We use tarot to better understand and care for ourselves and our communities.
Queering the Tarot is a brilliant contribution to this collective work. Cassandra's interpretations zoom in on the generally accepted meanings of each card, examining timeworn archetypes, symbols, tropes, and rites of passage via one simple yet crucial question:
How can this card relate differently for queer-identified readers?
The asking is itself a radical act. It is a question that makes space for difference. It is a question that centers the marginal, the unseen, and makes it visible.
Too often, mainstream discourse on LGBTQ+ experiences focuses on how queers are “just like everyone else.” We hear about “same love,” we talk about how we are all human, we fight for permission to enter the patriarchal, capitalist institution of matrimony, and so on. I frequently hear confused voices drifting over from the mainstream, asking: Why do you need your own special hairdressers? Do you still need Pride, now that gays can get married? Why would you seek out a queer therapist? and so on.
These questions contain their own answers; their very asking shows us why and how much we do need these things. While, of course, it's important to talk about human commonalities, while, of course, love is love, and while for many LGBTQ+ people, a seat at the mainstream table is a revolution in itself, it's also the case that the queer experience is different from the hetero experience (depending on other intersecting circumstances such as race, class, mental health, or body type, often vastly so). We need our own hairdressers, visibility parades, therapists, and so on because so often the people and institutions around us do not get it (or choose not to). Heteronormative society doesn't know what it is like to have a stylist alter that haircut you've asked for in order to make your gender expression fit their comfort zone, doesn't know how it feels to be continually assessing the fluctuating cost of speaking in your own voice, wearing the clothes you choose, or simply touching your lover's hand. Heteronormative society doesn't see the shame and the fear every queer person has confronted (or will at some point need to confront) that is the result of growing up categorized as not “normal.” No single queer person I know (regardless of how supportive their family may be) has been immune to this shame and fear. Queer identity—with all of this shame and fear, and with its pride and its resilience and its deep, unconditional love, too—is a maze through which we walk, or crawl, or fly, or drag ourselves, or dance, or dream, or fall, or fuck, as we journey toward the truth of who we are and who we can be. Tarot is a compass for navigating that maze with curiosity, consciousness, honesty, and compassion.
For any tarot reader, The Fool's Journey is a quest for self-discovery, connection, integration, and healing, culminating in self-actualization, where the individual comes to recognize their unique yet interdependent place in what the poet Mary Oliver beautifully names “the family of things.”* For me, endlessly shuffling, endlessly rereading, tarot is the best of tools, because it holds space for everybody and everything in the cosmos. The most common thing I hear from my own tarot clients runs along the lines of “wow—it was so good to get that confirmation.” The cards so often tell us what we already know! Over the years, I've come to realize that this is tarot's most beautiful gift. For queer folks—and for anyone experiencing systemic oppression and the layers of fear and shame that come with that—tarot holds up a mirror to the truths we hide away, helping us to piece together our identities and understand the beauty and complexity of our non-normative lives and, ultimately, live them with pride.
Cassandra draws on many years of practice working as a healer, witch, tarot reader, and in other roles at the heart of their LGBTQ+ community, as evidenced by the wide-ranging suggestions offered for each card. In Queering the Tarot, the Two of Pentacles speaks of the pride and pain of juggling intersecting identities (“As soon as we gain a cool piece of legislation, we lose another one we were counting on”), The Hermit can open up a conversation around asexuality or aromanticism, and the entire suit of Swords makes space for acknowledging that LGBTQ+ folks are far more likely than their straight peers to suffer with mental health and addiction issues.
Death is another simple example, with its well-understood connotations of transformation and letting go. The difference between reading platitudes around “big life changes” versus on-point notes on, for
example, gender transition and deadnames, is massive, and vitally important to a person about to undergo such a change. So, too, is the opening of space to talk about how and why Death's unstoppable change may be happening; when reading about the Death card we often hear that change is inevitable, and it's up to us to embrace it, to go with the flow. A queer-centered reading might also dig into who or what is forcing those changes, since, for example, queer people are so frequently outed before they are ready or before it is safe. Again, the queer experience is witnessed in its complexity and in the context of a heteronormative world, rather than watered down to blend with more normative tarot card interpretations.
These are just a few quick examples. Each on its own can mean that a queer person feels better understood. Together, as a guidebook to the entire tarot, they are a compass, a friendly guide, and a witness to each and every queer journey.
At the same time, there is so much more to explore here. Queering the Tarot is one volume. As one author, one reader, one healer, Cassandra can cover only so much ground as they present their interpretations of the cards. I know that Cassandra would be the first to say that this book is a contribution to a huge and ever shifting conversation—not a conclusion or a definitive guide. What is so radical and so wonderful about this book is that it carves out space for that conversation, while its mainstream publication amplifies it, spreads it, opens it further. But don't forget that this conversation is already taking place. It's happening in blogs and in bars, in bedrooms and coffee shops, in parks and on social media. Each time you pick up your deck, you add to the conversation. As you open this book and shift your gaze to take in the perspectives presented here, understand that the cards are a springboard for your own interpretations, prompts for your own self-enquiry. What happens next, what you find in the cards you lay before yourself, depends on you. Will you claim your story—in all of its complexity? I hope so—because that is queer self-love in action, and that is where the revolution happens.