Even with, the Six of Wands (which is one of the rare tarot cards that tends towards a very positive polarity), the author has this to say: While I empathize people saying that despite not liking the book, they still think it's important, I question how important it can be if it's done so poorly. For a book that markets itself about being inclusionary and about the queer community as a whole, to write a book where the focus is almost entirely about your own personal views/experiences, and how we should change our style to fit those specific views/experiences, that feels...well, exclusionary. And kind of bigoted, tbh. I can appreciate the idea of this book, but I cannot find myself recommending it. I've found more queer readings and understanding of tarot in non-queer focused books. This one felt often close-minded, ignorant, or extremely biased. (And the Swords section was just...I have no words. We are not therapists, and to associate swords with mental illness is insane to me.)

While the Tarot is called a divination tool, or a way to see predictions about the future, today many use the cards as essentially a mirror. (Using the Tarot for divination is frowned upon by some occultists, including Waite himself.) If you’re in a relationship that’s obviously doomed, the cards will call you out. This is rarely news, but rather a means for self-reflection. The cards, in particular, the Major Arcana, use archetypes to help us find clarity. Once you begin to understand the many interpretations of the cards, you can ask for guidance on anything from gender to a failing friendship. Why does the Tarot need queering?

Episode 133: Queering the Tarot with Cassandra Snow

All in all, I'm glad I read this and can put the author's knowledge and teachings to use in my own readings, but I do think that this book is just a fun addition to your tarot collection and not necessarily a must read book! I wish the card interpretations felt more three-dimensional. Rather than discussing how archetypal symbols can relate to common queer experiences, it felt more like defining the cards as a sign of a particular common queer experience. To me, there’s a major difference between a symbol and a sign. A sign directs our attention toward something very specific that requires no further interpretation. Symbols involve in-depth interpretations that are semi-universal, or threaded through various associations and schemas.

DNF @ Swords (at 50%). I have better things to do with my life than force myself to read a poorly written depressing book that excludes and stereotypes so much. The Minor Arcana is broken into four suits. The Wands represent the element Fire. As Snow describes in Queering the Tarot: I also really don't love how often the author fixated on queer trauma as opposed to queer joy. Snow assumes (or rather, projects, that the queer of experience is one of adversity first and joy later). For example, here is the description of the Ace of Swords: Pope Joan, an apocryphal medieval religious leader, is one example. Some say it's Pope Joan on the High Priestess. Others say that Pope Joan wasn’t real.Swords correspond with the element Air. “The swords do not always bring us what we want, but they do get us what we need,” writes Snow. Swords correspond with mental clarity, intellect, and reason. The Swords relate to mental health, and in readings, it is important to remember the unique challenges queer people face in receiving mental health treatment. Queering something, then, means taking what our society has given us and finding our own way, outside of that society’s limits. They put us in a box, and we still find ways to create and prosper and make it the most well-decorated box you’ll see. Queering erases the narrowness and small-mindedness of normal. It embraces the beauty, the mystery, and the vastness of our differences. It welcomes everyone who needs a safer space, and it takes responsibility for helping those people heal. Cassandra Snow, Queering the Tarot

I think I'd be much less bothered if the author had said the book was more about their own experiences with tarot/being queer, rather than a book of "how to queer the tarot" for everyone in general. Like if they said this is a book of how they queer their tarot--I'd be more okay with it. But instead, it's marketed/written as how we should queer our tarot based on their experiences/rules. It read very much in a "my way or the highway," which is ironic, given how exclusive and at times, bigoted the author seemed to be. All of which is really off-putting. If you couldn't tell by this point in my review, haha. This is vitally important because a lot of the cards' conventional interpretations simply don't work for queer querents (henceforth queerents) like they do for cishet folks. For instance, while a cishet person might see the Hierophant as a card of spiritual stability and community, a queerent's past experiences with the homophobia of many mainstream religious institutions might leave them bracing for abuse or even expulsion from someplace they've thought of as a safe haven. On the flip side, while a cishet querent (especially a white one) might balk at the chaos and destruction of the Tower, a queerent might gleefully welcome the chance to strike down discriminatory structures and build something new.

We also pull some majorrrr major arcana cards and talk about the beauty of pole dancing! What a treat!