The Queens (and the Kings, Knights and Pages)
When I was first learning the tarot, the Queens and the Kings were some of the most confusing cards to wrap my head around. To a large extent, in all honesty, they still are. Some books say that the Queens are the “masters” of their suit. Some say it’s the Kings. Some people say that the Queens are at the height of their respective suits. Some people say its the Kings. In the tarot itself — not just the Smith-Waite tarot, but in the vast majority of tarot decks both inspired by, and based off of Smith and Waite’s system of meaning — the Queens and Kings are part of a linear hierarchy, with the Page below the Knight, the Knight below the Queen, and the Queen under the King.
The linear hierarchy can make some sense in terms of portraying the youthful innocence of the Page below the more experienced and impetuous adolescence of the Knights. The archetypes of the Pages and Knights can potentially be applied to just about anyone, regardless of age, gender or sexuality, and can reflect an arc of emotional and intellectual development, from childhood, onto adolescence, and onward into adulthood. But with inherently gendered terms like the Queens and Kings, we run into a lot more difficulty, especially for people who have a more complicated or nuanced relationship with gender that goes beyond terms or concepts of “male” or “female”.
Because of this, a lot of tarot decks over the years have tried to address this by either using genderless and abstract depictions of animals in the court cards, or by renaming the court cards entirely. One example out of several that immediately comes to mind is Child (Page), Explorer (Knight), Guardian (Queen), and Elder (King), from Carrie Mellon and Annie Ruygt’s Spacious Tarot.
The association between “Child” and “Page”, and “Explorer” and “Knight” is fairly clear to me; again, the Pages’ youthful and innocent energy comes out in cards especially clear in cards like the Page of Cups and the Page of Pentacles, while the movement-focused character of the Knights really shines through in the Knight of Wands and the Knight of Swords. The Pages are people of curiosity, and the Knights are people of action. This brings us to the Queens, people that to me embody the spirit of stewardship; the nurture, guard and protect with the Pages and Knights have worked so hard to discover and build.
When you think of the word “Guardian”, what comes to mind? For me, the words compassionate, nurturing, protecting, and brave are the first words I think of. The image that appears in vision is that of my high school friend Alex, who I visited one day to see the litter of kittens she was fostering; I still remember holding one of the kittens in the palm of my hand, its improbably small legs and paws squirming and curled up warmly on my skin. I also see the greenhouse I toiled in late at night in my Masters degree, hoping and praying that the seeds of my study plants that I so carefully tended to, would finally show their first bursts of green through the soil I packed and laid down.
Nurturer is the word for the Queen of Pentacles, one of the most visually luscious cards in the tarot. This card is teeming with life, from the rabbit at the lower right corner of the card, to the flowers surrounding their throne, to the trees and tilled fields in the background, to the imagery of the ripe fruit featured in their throne. The Queen of Pentacles is the archetype of the one who nurtures and raises up life to be bountiful and vibrant, who encourages people to grow and rise, and who protects those from others who would trample them underfoot, or distort their growth with toxic, anti-social ideas rooted in prejudice and discrimination.
It’s been said over and over and over again in my personal explorations of the tarot that aphobia — or to be more precise, acephobia and arophobia — is a real issue that speaks to the experiences of those in the asexual and aromantic spectrums, as they make their way through a normative world that is rigidly narrow in how it envisions sexuality and relationships. In our own ace and aro communities, whether they be online or offline, there are no doubt people who are in need of nurturing; who may be hurting from the social isolation wrought by the pandemic, who may be reeling from hurtful comments made from friends and family, or those feeling lost and confused as they grapple with their own sexuality. But going beyond that, the Queen of Pentacles also challenges us to reach out to others beyond our ace and/or aro circles: to those in need of nurturing because of the struggles with racism, sexism, xenophobia, ablism, illness or poverty. With the war in Ukraine and Palestine and the rising wave of transphobia, antisemitism and Islamophobia in both online and offline spaces, we needn’t go far to see that need in our daily lives.
Notice the border of this card: the only other card that shares the imagery of greenery surrounding the scene is The Magician. This tells us that in our role as the Queen of Pentacles, we are called to be The Magician for others; to help others grow and move forward, and both visualize and realize their goals.
Parallel to being a nurturing figure is a compassionate one, and this is where we see the Queen of Cups: Looking at their card, we see a figure who, to my eyes, is more of a healer than a monarch. From the landscape in the background it appears that the Queen’s seat of power is in a sheltered cove, as opposed to an exposed beach or being out in the open ocean. The rippling water is nowhere near as tumultuous as what we see in other cards like the Two of Pentacles or in the King of Cups, and is actually more reminiscent of The Star. The Queen is surrounded by symbols (such as the naiads and the seashell decorating their their throne) that tie them to water and all that water itself symbolizes (such as the emotions, the unconscious mind, and the power of healing). This all points to a picture of our Queen inhabiting a sheltered, protective space; if the Queen of Pentacles was about protection as a nurturing, growth-postive activity, then the Queen of Cups is about protection as a compassionate, healing-positive force. If the waters of our mind have been thrashing us with waves of anger, negativity and self-doubt, here is a place where we find them calmed down to ripples on the shore. Looking at the skies above, we see all is clear blue; there is none of the storminess we see in cards like the Three of Swords or the Five of Swords. As above, so below.
What the eye is immediately drawn to is the lidded cup that the Queen is holding; this is the only cup we see in the entire suit (and actually, come to think of it, in the entirety of the Smith-Waite tarot) that is actually covered.
So what’s in the cup?
One common interpretation of the lidded cup is that it symbolizes the unconscious mind; the Queen doesn’t have the cup open because it doesn’t have to be. In the words of noted tarot author Robert M. Place, the Queen is “psychically in tune with its contents”. But why is the cup so ornate compared to the others in the suit of cups? Place says that it is because it is a symbol of the “sacred centre”, whom the Queen knows “is in herself”. But what if it isn’t just limited to her — what if it’s the centre in all of us? What if it’s actually our emotional or spiritual essence in that cup?
To (try to) bring us back down to earth, I almost feel like what’s inside the cup truly is our heart — our emotional and spiritual centre (or soul, if you will). The Queen, in how they handle and look at the cup, recognizes its sacredness and power, but also its woundedness and fragility.
We all have, or at least, have had, a Queen of Cups in our lives: a figure who was there for us, to heal and protect us when we were down or at our most vulnerable. They’re the mother who always knew you were ace, the friend who accepted us when we first talked about our asexuality or aromanticness, or the partner (romantic, sexual, or queerplatonic) who never left our side when we transitioned or came out. They could be someone living in your own house, or someone you’ve never met face-to-face, connected only through Twitter posts, or instant messaging. They’re the person, or persons who have helped you (and hopefully, are continuing to help you) through your journey into your own sexual and/or gender identity, especially in the midst of a world where so many people coudln’t or wouldn’t choose to understand and connect with you.
Not only are we called to remember and be grateful for these sources of healing in our lives, we’re also invited to be mindful of the people in our circles who don’t have such figures to help them; maybe we could take up the Queen’s mantle for ourselves and be a healer for them too.
The word “Protector” is the word that comes to mind for the Queen of Swords. The Queen of Swords is unique among the Queens, for unlike the other three Queens, the Queen of Swords is presented in a side profile; even though the Queen of Cups and the Queen of Pentacles are not shown in full frontal view, we do see all of their body. With the Queen of Swords however, their side profile, their thick robe, and their throne protects almost all of their entire body; what is exposed to our view is protected by their crown, and their sword. Notice the direction of the sword; it is pointed upward, which means that the Queen is on guard against a potential threat — yet, their hand is extended outward in greeting, as if to bid someone to come forth.
To me, this all adds up to someone who isn’t just cautious, but careful. Who isn’t closed, but circumspect. They invite you to join them, but their raised sword means that they haven’t fully let their guard down. Fail to respect their boundaries and they won’t hesitate to cut you loose — or cut you down.
Boundaries, then, is the key theme of this card: The Queen of Swords protects themselves and protects their boundaries, which is why this card has become one of my favourite cards in the Smith-Waite tarot. As someone who has historically had a very, very, very hard time with boundaries, the Queen of Swords is an archetype I both am drawn to, and chase after. I admit to striving to be more like the Queen of Swords above all other archetypes expressed in the tarot, and when I met people who I feel exhibit this energy the most, I almost want to take them to a cafe with a notebook and start writing down everything they have to say about their life and experience. “You really come across to me as being excellent about having boundaries,” I want to say to them. “I’m dying to know: What is your secret?”
In my own personal experience, boundaries are a key areas of difficulty with ace and aro people. For those in relationships, boundaries represent a space where ace and aro people alike have to carefully navigate difficult and challenging conversations about consent, intimacy, sex, and physical contact, balancing one’s own personal desires, needs, and comfort levels with those of their partner, and this is compounded even further for aces and aros in polyamorous or kinky relationships. Yet, the Queen of Swords tells us to stand firm, for our own sake. The mental calculus here dictates that when our boundaries are respected, and when our “no” is honored as an expression of personal need (versus a personal attack or a personal rejection), then that contributes to a relationship atmosphere of safety, centring freedom and consent. When we feel safe and free to be who we are — whether that be poly, kinky or ace — in our relationships, that provides a fertile ground for intimacy and deep connections to blossom.
And this card is all about mental calculus: the expansive clouds seen in the background (with the Queen’s own head rising above them), the bird cast across the blue sky, plus the butterfly crown on the Queen’s head all point to a personality that has both thought carefully and thoroughly about their decisions — and who will speak their thoughts about those decisions with a similarly decisive quality. For someone who is on the asexual and aromantic spectrum, that means having the power to engage a potential relationship prospect about what is and isn’t on the table (and what also might be up for negotiation). It means speaking clearly about what limits we have, and how we can communicate when those limits are reached (and vice versa for the other partner, of course).
And what if those limits aren’t respected, or heeded? Well, when words aren’t enough, there’s always the sword: There for us to swing and cut loose people who in the end, shouldn’t be worth our time or energy.
It can takes an immense amount of bravery to take on difficult conversations about boundaries with people, which is also where the Queen of Wands comes in. If the Queen of Swords tells us to both think and speak clearly about what we need — especially in our relationships — then the Queen of Wands tells us to act boldly and bravely to get what we want. Typically given the archetype of the someone who is brave, self-confident, vivacious, fiery and passionate, the Queen of Wands tells us to go now for our goal. That we should not just simply wait to strike while the iron is hot; we should strike right now.
That means having that difficult conversation right now with a partner or friend, whether it be about personal boundaries, or about a aphobic comment they just made. It means coming out to a potential relationship partner as demiromantic, or cupiosexual; as panromantic or aroace. It will be hard and scary, of course; it could result in a puerile dismissive rejection on Tinder, or an admittance of a sexual mismatch on a first-date-turned-last-date. Or perhaps, most wonderous (or most terrifying, depending on how you feel), it could result in a partner willing and ready to embrace your identity, wanting to be in a comitted relationship to you.
We see all of this in the Queen’s card: The sunflower in their left hand signifies a link to the creative, fiery energy of the sun. The back of their throne is adorned with lions (the animal for Leo, one of the astrological signs of the Western Zodiac associated with fire), and stretches up past the border of the card itself, suggesting limitless possibility. Their staff is held at a slight outward angle and their legs are open, suggesting a readiness to jump to action, at a moment’s notice. Their head is looking out at an angle, as if just waiting for an opportunity to leap into the fray.
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