Learning to Read the Lovers
This series on the major arcana presents some ways that I like to think about each of the majors with the hope that it helps you learn more about or think differently about these cards. In each of these posts, I provide an overview of how I read the relevant major arcanum through a few different lenses: with keywords; in the context of other majors; and through visuals. You can read more about the premise behind this structure in the introductory post on the “Learning to Read the Major Arcana” series.
These may represent just a small sample of what I might consider when I see a major arcanum, but they are still quite deep takes, so they can be a lot to take in all at once. Don’t be afraid to skip around and come back to it paragraph by paragraph as needed.
Keywords
As a reminder, these keywords are examples and not exhaustive of all possible meanings of the Lovers. Remember to take what works for you and question what doesn’t. I’ve tried to arrange these keywords by broad concept to help organize them and make them easier to learn.
Partnership, Pairs of things, Siblings, Arranged unions
Romantic love, Joy, Pleasure
Decisions, Difficult choices, Analysis, Trade-offs
Cooperation, Communication
Individuation, Self in relation to Other, Complementary forces, Duality
Gemini, Air
In Context
The Lovers is one of the most easily misunderstood cards in the deck because it seems so simple on the surface. And, let’s face it, a lot of people come to the tarot wanting to know about their love life, so having a card called “the Lovers” can make an immediate impression. But it’s a card with history, and having context for the card adds more than a little nuance to the most obvious meanings of the card, just as it helped us with the Magician’s roots in the Juggler (see Learning to Read the Magician for more).
In some early tarot decks, the Lovers was called the Lover, as in a lone man in love (L’Amoureux in the Tarot de Marseille). So while this card has often shown romantic love, it’s been about decision-making within that context. Sometimes, the man would be depicted between two potential lovers, but he’s also sometimes seen with an older woman, often understood to be his mother or an undesirable wife, and a younger woman, often understood to be his lover or more desirable mistress. In that sense, the card could indicate a need to choose between duty and desire. Although the Smith-Waite Tarot’s Lovers is sometimes seen as lovey-dovey or sexy times because there’s a naked man and woman being watched over by an angel, the lovers (Adam and Eve) are actually shown on the point of temptation. We all know what happened—they made a choice. (Also, there’s a lot of stuff on fire in that card.) Those who bring in the idea of choice with this card will sometimes maintain focus on a choice in love (between two partners or between love and lust). There’s certainly evidence for that in the cards, but there’s no reason to limit it there. The choice between duty and desire can be found almost anywhere, from what to put in the grocery basket to what vocation we pursue. And if you want to have it all, look to the next card in the series, the Chariot, which can be about controlling competing interests (or contrasting energies).
That internal context may be enough to get you thinking, but we can turn to some other majors for even more helpful clarification and guidance.
Coming out of the previous card, the Hierophant, we have an opportunity to decide where it is that we want to be. The Hierophant is about community and structures, so it makes sense that the next card would reflect on those topics. In this way, the Lovers asks us where we fit in relation to others, whether those others are part of a like-minded community, our family, or some other institution, such as school or marriage. This brings in the card’s ideas of not only partnership and cooperation, but also individuation. That’s an important part of partnership—you’re not two of the same thing but different and unique, which is what allows you to come together in a harmonious union.
In a few esoteric tarot decks, you’ll sometimes see the Lovers referred to as the Twins, and it’s no surprise then that the Lovers is the tarot card that represents Gemini, the astrological sign of the Twins. This can make the idea of individuation challenging. Isn’t the point of twins that they’re the same? But in stories about twins—and remember that tarot is rooted in archetypes and stories—there is always an important difference: one is mortal and one is immortal, or one is good and one is evil, or one is light and one is dark, or some other important binary. So while sometimes the Lovers is about making a choice, when we look at it in the context of the Hierophant and the context of the Lovers-as-Twins, it becomes about finding your place as an individual. What makes you different from someone else who might seem to be the same as or very similar to you or someone with whom you’re in a relationship (romantic, professional, familial, or otherwise)?
That puts the Lovers in good conversation with the individualism of the Magician, which is good since they’re related astrologically. The Magician represents Mercury, which is the ruling planet for Gemini (the Lovers). The Magician empowers you to assert your individual will, but if you’re struggling with that, it may be that you need the Lovers to help you figure out where you are in relation to others. With that tucked under your Magician’s belt, you’re ready to charge ahead with the activated willpower (drive) of the Chariot, the next card in the series of major arcana.
Keeping with the elemental/astrological theme of Air cards, we can contrast the individualism of the Magician and the individuation of the Lovers with the undetermined openness of the Fool, the card of Air and Uranus. The Fool is the undefined self, and they can become anything. No decisions have been made with the Fool until they choose to start their journey (and remember that can be more of an accident than a choice with the Fool). The limitless potential of the Fool comes to a screeching halt in the Lovers, when suddenly choices require much more consideration and thought than the Fool can muster.
With the other airy or Mercurial cards, we can see the Lovers as one of a series of interpersonal and thoughtful cards. The Lovers is a natural fit with Justice (Adjustment), which represents the airy sign of Libra. Justice is associated with social systems and social causes, which is a natural fit for the decision-making and partnerships of the Lovers. But Libra is also directly linked to important relationships, including marriages, and through it, we can see a bit of distinction between Justice’s partnerships and the Lovers’ union. With Justice, things are clearly right or wrong. With the Lovers, there’s more grey area, or at least we want there to be grey area, which can make it hard to decide on the right way ahead. Justice makes clear choices with that sword she wields; the Lovers have difficult choices to make.
Adjustment is slightly different from Justice, and it’s worth distinguishing them here. Adjustment is about balance and fair distribution rather than just distribution; it’s more of a natural reordering of the world than a human-centered decision about what’s right. In that regard, Adjustment helps us focus on the duality of the Lovers and complementary forces—light and dark, good and evil, yin and yang—as seen in the twins.
Related to Justice’s thinking through of future course of events is the Star, the major representing airy Aquarius. The Star’s guiding light offers a way ahead and a way to make choices, but the wisdom offered by the inner light is really something that’s determined within. Once we know about ourselves and what we really want (a form of self-love), we can move into a dark night with confidence. The Star’s association with Aquarius also makes it a card of humanity, of thinking about the broad tapestry of humankind. This is in stark contrast to the Lovers, which is personal or at least much more intimate. In the Lovers, we individuate and identify ourselves in relation to others. We can do that more completely when we see the big picture from on high, and that’s what the Star provides, but the Lovers and seeing ourselves in relation to a few critical others is where we start that work.
During that phase from Lovers to Star, you might find yourself thinking deeply about your inner world and what shines from within you, which is when the Hermit will be useful. Representing Virgo, the other Mercury-ruled sign, the Hermit is a cousin to the Lovers. In the Thoth Tarot tradition, the Hermit is the one presiding over the wedding of the Lovers. While that’s a fun detail in the cards, it’s useful to recognize that the Hermit is a different energy from the Lovers. Both require thinking and analysis and self-determination, but the Hermit does this without regard for others, while the Lovers is all about putting oneself in context through relationship to others. While there is some overlap, it’s far more useful to think of these cards as contrasting ways to think through a situation.
While we’re talking about marriage in the Lovers, another pair of cards that may be useful to consider are the Empress and the Emperor. These two archetypes are (ostensibly) married to each other, each one serving a different role. When you think about the Lovers, consider how it works with the energies of the Empress and the Emperor. What kind of balance can these two complementary forces help you bring to bear when making decisions? What is it that allows the two to maintain a successful partnership as co-rulers? You may find that you can’t marry the two energies together when you see the Lovers—that’s the work of Temperance/Art—and it’s good to know if you’re more drawn to one than another.
One of the last point that we might want to consider after looking at the card’s neighbors and the card’s elemental and astrological associations is numerology, and the numerological mate for the Lovers is the Devil (15 > 1 + 5 = 6). Whereas the Lovers show the moment before a decision has been made, the Devil shows what can happen after those decisions are made and we are committed to things. While the Devil has obviously negative connotations by its name, the energy of the card is as much about strong ties, contracts, and materials needs as it is about bondage, addiction, and vice. In the imagery of some decks, the Lovers and the Devil mirror each other, showing the Lovers after they’ve succumbed to temptation or a choice that wasn’t in their best interests. But the Devil also shows connections that we can’t be rid of easily. This includes addiction, but that can also include legal agreements, such as marriage or business partnerships. It would be nice if we thought of these things positively, but if we think about them objectively, they are serious commitments that are not easy to break if we change our minds. That shouldn’t dissuade us from making important decisions, but it is a useful reminder that these decisions come at a price. We can’t choose between two mutually exclusive things and still end up with both. Recognize that you may be bound to your choice even when things get difficult or uncomfortable, and it may be hard (if not impossible) to take back that decision. Once you realize that, the decision may be easier to make.
We could of course keep going and read the Lovers through every other major, but this is more than enough to get you started. As you encounter the Lovers with other majors, think about how they speak to one another. What advice would they have to the person trying to decide? How would they be as an important partner in that situation?
Visuals
For interpreting the visuals, I chose one of my favorite depictions of the Lovers, seen here in the Lost Hollow Tarot by James Brothwell (Pixel Occult). (You can read my interview with that deck here. Incidentally, my current “lesson” with this deck was the Lovers!)
In this image, the embrace of the headless lovers is married with the shattering of identities in mirror shards. There is intimacy and connection, as expected of the romantic aspect of the Lovers, but how that connection manifests varies, shard by shard. What does love look like in the Lovers? Part of the variety in this card is the artist’s decision to not choose any one type of couple—straight, queer, mixed-race, ethnically homogeneous—as the archetypal Lovers. This is an inclusive deck, and the Lovers is fraught with landmines of identity politics. How could they make such a decision? The concepts of “identity politics,” loaded though the term is now, is intentional because the Lovers is also about identity, and the mirrors here reflect that (no pun intended). When looking at Lovers in a deck, consider whether there is any decision being made in the card or any hesitation to decide. And is anyone overlooking or controlling that decision? My reference to the artist’s choosing and decision-making also calls in the Lovers’ association with decision-making.
Beyond my questioning the decision-making process of the artist, the card doesn’t show that meaning in any obvious way, but the shards of mirror does bring in the thinking nature of the archetype, along with the ecstasy of passion. The mirrors reflect couples embracing, but it’s focused on their heads to help us see that the headless Lovers could be anyone of these couples. As I mentioned, that helps with the ability to identify ourselves in response to something else, one of the ways that we can understand the Lovers. However, because they’re heads floating above the embracing Lovers, they act like thought bubbles or memories or even fantasies. The shattered minds could also be a sign of ecstasy as a result of sexual coupling. It’s not called a “mind-shattering orgasm” for nothing. It’s rare to see so much range in a Lovers card, but you may find indications that the card is about mental processes other than decision-making, or you may find that there is obvious (or more metaphoric) reference to sexual passion. These all add nuance to the card’s meaning.
Behind and between the six large mirror shards are six swords, one for each couple. Swords represent the suit of air in tarot, the mental suit, and the Lovers is the major arcanum numbered 6, but beyond that we can also see the violence of this moment. Individuation requires definition of oneself through separation from another; it’s a natural process of development. In this image, the six swords shatter a mirror, which allows for pain. But it also allows us to see more of the world than just ourselves reflected in it. We can see all of the other possibilities. The sword separates in order to help us see how we can connect as individuals rather than a combined unit. That’s not a bad thing. How are the Lovers represented? Is there a clear protagonist with a complementary partner? Is each one individuating? Are they merged together and inseparable? That’s a common depiction as well, and that would reinforce union rather than the separation that must happen first: two can only become one if they were two first.
Of course, what we see in the mirror may not always be us, and that’s an important part of the Lovers’ potential for personal transformation. I wouldn’t say that this idea is actually in the card’s image, but the mirror imagery reminds me that we can look in the mirror and see ourselves reflected there; we can see our “twin,” a nod to the card’s association with Gemini. And as a last point on this, in the mythology of twins, one of them quite often is killed, so I read in this card a subtle encouragement to decide who you want to be (in esoteric terms, you metaphorically “kill the twin”). Choosing your own identity is not just in relation to others but also in relation to the version of yourself you’re used to seeing.
Did you learn something?
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