Assembling a Puzzle or Building a Bridge: Two Modes of Tarot Divination

AUTHOR’S NOTE: When using a tarot spread with defined position meanings, synthesizing the key points to form a single coherent narrative offers inevitable comparisons to assembling a jigsaw puzzle in which each card contributes one — and only one — irreplaceable “piece of the puzzle” as determined by its positional import. On the other hand, when reading the layout from the perspective of the card that has the most to say about the matter, the interpretation more closely resembles building a bridge in which that card shows the “critical span” of conditions or events in the affair and the other cards provide buttressing testimony. The first is more common in larger spreads while the second has greater utility in short line readings whenever the usual left-to-right progression doesn’t flow logically.

Here are two examples to illustrate my point. The five-card “French Cross” reading employed discrete positions that were populated in series from a random draw. The three-card line could have been read as a “past/present/future” or “action/reaction/resolution” scenario but the cards pulled did not fall into a sensible pattern for either purpose so the layout was reformed to place the most significant card in the center. (This won’t happen every time, but when it does a rethinking of the sequence is in order.)

In both cases I stepped into the shoes of a hypothetical querent and asked “What do I need to know about my fledgling relationship at this point in time.” All images are from the Fournier Tarot de Marseille, copyright of Naipes Heraclio Fournier, Vittoria, SP.

The King of Coins in Position #1 indicates that I know exactly where I stand, have my “eye on the ball” and am well-situated to manage the practical aspects of the situation. I fully intend to take my time.

The Ace of Batons in Position #2 warns against striking out rashly or prematurely.

The 9 of Batons in Position #3 advises resisting heavy external pressure to act outside of my comfort zone; it hints that “the squeeze is on” or will be soon. Taken with the Ace of Batons, there is a lot of intense heat building up in the situation.

The 2 of Cups in Position #4 suggests achieving an agreeable and harmonious status by meeting any emotional opportunities and challenges half-way.

Justice as the “Synthesis” (aka “quintessence”) card in Position #5 implies that I will receive my “just desserts” for all of the effort I put in to avoid overreacting, with the 2 of Cups denoting that I will probably be “found worthy and not wanting when the verdict is handed down.”

Just a side note: I ( the reader, not the imaginary querent) derived the “quint” card by Theosophical reduction; if I had used “casting out nines” it would have been the “numerological counterpart” of Justice, the Star, a more salutary presence. Also, I included the King of Coins as “14;” if I had left it out the “quint” would have been the Empress, an even more gracious union of influences. But Justice will certainly keep the querent on his toes and won’t cave in to his unquenchable hopes (Star) or desires (Empress).

This series supposes that the credulous Valet of Cups has no clue what he is getting himself into (the 7 of Swords can signify a radical departure from the norm), and the Queen of Swords is just biding her time until she unloads on him with her best Tony Soprano “Fuhgeddaboudit!” unless, of course, she is the one prodding him in the 9 of Batons. (A friend of mine used to exclaim “Get back, Loretta!” when confronted with such unforeseen circumstances.) She could also be poised to deliver a moralizing rebuke: “I told you so!” I would say the tyro is “between a rock and a hard place” and is ill-equipped to extricate himself; he looks like he’s about to belt out “Rock and Roll, Hoochie Koo” as he ogles that suggestive Freudian image. From the standpoint of practical guidance, I see the Queen of Swords as the less tolerant “little sister” of Justice, so if I were the seeker I wouldn’t get my hopes up about my chances of escaping judgment if I proceed naively like a “moth to a flame.”

Here I’ve adjusted the previous sequence to place the most imposing card (the Queen of Swords) at the “apex” of the layout. The 7 of Swords presents the same problematic scenario, but the Queen is “on the case” and beats back any disruptive temptations while telling the Valet of Cups to just “get on about the business” of emotional self-mastery. I would much rather have this Queen “watching my back” than “looking over my shoulder.” While the original pull was about the hazards of “giving in” and the potentially vindictive consequences of doing so, the reformulated reading is more about the benefits of exercising sound judgment in response to dangerously alluring conditions.

Originally published at http://parsifalswheeldivination.wordpress.com on May 20, 2024.