AUTHOR’S NOTE: I was put on the scent of this topic while re-reading Paul Fenton-Smith’s Tarot Master-Class.

When addressing the subject of reversal in his court-card chapter, Fenton-Smith maintains the premise that the appearance of a reversed card in a reading means that something about the affairs of the previous upright card in the natural sequence remains unresolved and must be revisited. But he leaps right over the female Queen and notes that the reversed King of Wands exhibits only the maturity level of the less-evolved male Knight of Wands. Since the court cards as a group can be difficult to characterize when reversed, I think this assumption of arrested maturity or even “backsliding” into a less-developed state of the same gender adds another arrow to the interpretive quiver.

Although the Kings and Queens are pretty much on the same page when it comes to the accumulation and application of knowledge and experience, the Kings are apt to be markedly deliberate and perhaps even entrenched in their thoughts and actions while the Queens are more flexible. Thus, a reversed King may enjoy a measure of the adaptability inherent in the Queen along with the urgency of the Knight while at the same time having to surrender some of his pompous, overbearing self-assurance. Depending on how hidebound the overlord of a suit happens to be, reversal could be a good thing indeed.

For the patient and placid Queen, regressing via reversal into the volatility of the female Knight (see my previous essay on the gender-inclusiveness of this category) could be profoundly upsetting to her sense of decorum and “due process.” But while she could lose her vaunted equanimity, she would acquire even greater tolerance for change as well as a jolt of adrenaline.

Whether representing a male or female, the reversed Knight would sacrifice mobility by morphing into the more stationary Page (again observing gender inclusiveness). However, he or she could gain an awareness of options and a commitment to cautious preparation that the dynamics of constant striving won’t permit. It suggests dipping a toe in the water first before jumping in with both feet.

When reversed, the Page isn’t going to magically transform into a King. Instead, it will revert to the status of the Ten that launched its emergence onto the scene. The idea is that the reversed Page will feel compelled to reopen the closed book of the suit’s minor cards and rewrite the last chapter to be more supportive of its ongoing mission. Maybe he or she left something crucial behind and must retrieve it to promote further growth. Since pages were historically squires or “knights-in-training,” it could be the rigging needed to mount the horse of its master.

In all cases, reversal of a court card implies a need to pause and reflect on personal or social aspects of a situation that might be dismissed out of hand in the headlong rush to further the agenda of its upright orientation. A little introspection and discretion are never inappropriate where royal decree could get out of hand, although it should be kept in perspective and not turned into the “Spanish Inquisition.”

Humanity has been down that road more than once before; modern versions are the political or societal “witch-hunt,” the “cancel culture,” various forms of “shaming,” and similar manipulations of image that are intended to deflate another person’s or group’s sense of self-worth and elevate our own. Ethically, we haven’t progressed all that much beyond the tribunal of Torquemada, our methods have just become more devious.