AUTHOR’S NOTE: It’s no secret that I prefer logical inquiry to unquestioning acceptance when confronted with the many romantic myths that shroud so much modern tarot practice in sheer fantasy. I’ve come to believe that there is an empirical explanation for the seemingly unfounded intuitive and psychic impressions attending the act of divination, we just haven’t found the key to unlock it yet (although theoretical physics seems to be closing in on an answer). Examining elemental interaction among the cards in a spread is one methodical way to go about quantifying it.
Interleaving the suits of Swords and Cups (which are elementally compatible) brings to mind the idea of “logical mysticism” (in contrast, the “logical positivism” of philosophy smacks more of Swords and Pentacles, a jarring juxtaposition in elemental terms), while the blended nature of Pentacles and Wands suggests “pragmatic action.” Rather than using the Golden Dawn’s description of “neutral and supportive,” I treat these alliances as cordial in a “complementary opposites” manner of speaking (one supplies what the other lacks).
In the Golden Dawn’s system of Elemental Dignities, these mildly sympathetic duos represent the “middle ground” between their more harmonious and discordant peers. In any aggregation of two suits, an abundance of one and a shortage of the other will change the complexion of the relationship as it affects the situation or the querent’s response. An excess of Swords (Air) over Cups (Water) will promote thinking while downplaying feeling and vice versa; similarly, Pentacles (Earth) surpassing Wands (Fire) will emphasize pragmatism over spontaneous “action for its own sake,” and the opposite is also true. The congenial and antagonistic elemental alignments (Fire/Air; Water/Earth and Fire/Water; Air/Earth, respectively) are more comprehensible, each in its own way; they are clear-cut in their seamless cooperation or characteristic disunion and require little in the form of mental gymnastics to accommodate their inclinations.
Apart from elemental preponderance, the comparative rank of the cards in any of the three subcategories will aid in ascribing dominance. In a reading, the inherent nature of each of the cards can then be applied to good effect within this elemental “pecking order.” What emerges is a comprehensive profile of objective stimulus and subjective reaction that will shape development of the matter in ways that can be subjected to rational scrutiny. There are fewer “loose ends” than we are likely to find with imaginative free-association from the images, although I acknowledge that it can be useful as a fallback to move things along when analysis stumbles and insight dries up. I think of it as my “secret weapon,” usually in the form of metaphor or analogy, to be pulled out on demand.
These are fundamental suppositions that go a long way toward sorting out the reasoning behind suit dynamics in the Minor Arcana and, by extension, the logical consequences of pursuing their shared or divergent agendas. This gives the mystically-inclined “mad scientist” in me a good deal of grist for the mill, and I find the metaphysical architecture far more compelling (and reliable) than any amount of intuitive guesswork can produce. I bend over backwards to avoid succumbing to pure conjecture in my work since my goal is to connect the dots between speculation and revelation as much as possible. For the less-literal reader who favors flights of inspiration over exacting standards, bending the other way is risky when a fickle Universe is on the prod.