I Tarocchi Parlano (The Tarot Speaks) by Maria Luigia Ingallati is perhaps the most well-known book about the Tarocchino Bolognese in Italy, and the one that, thanks to its success, launched the rediscovery of this deck outside of its native region. Since the publication of Ingallati’s book, the Bolognese tarot has enjoyed a small but growing cult following. This, we shall see, is probably the book’s greatest merit, though not the only one.
Ingallati herself is not from Bologna. She relocated there many years prior to the publication of her first book (‘Il Tarocchino Bolognese’, which I will review separately). There, she started seeing the local card readers, getting her fortunes told and learning a great deal from them, until she began practicing the art herself and synthesizing a personal method from the Bolognese tradition and her own experience as a card reader.
The book does a good job of presenting Ingallati’s journey, and it is undeniable that her personality shines through the pages of the richly illustrated volume. Ingallati is a good story-teller, enjoys reading and talking about poetry, philosophy and psychology, all of which she uses to shed light on the Bolognese tarot.
Ingallati uses a personal variation of the 50-card method, comprised of the following cards: the 18 surviving Major Arcana; the 3 Strangers or Moors; 7 Cup cards (Ace, Nine, Ten and the Court); 6 Wand cards (Ace, Six and the Court); 8 Coin cards (Ace, Six, Nine, Ten and the Court); 7 Sword cards (Ace, Six, Seven and the Court); and the red Joker.
Of Ingallati’s selection, the choice to include the Joker is the one that has always stuck out like a sore thumb to me. The traditional deck includes no Jokers, since they are not needed for playing card games, and to this day only one producer has recently randomly decided to add them. That being said, Ingallati is very careful in acknowledging what she took from the tradition and what she introduced as her own innovation.
The book starts off with a chapter on the history of the Tarocchino. It is not the best and most accurate historical account, but it covers most of the basics and it is the one most people will skip anyway. Then, Ingallati presents the spreads she uses. This is a peculiar trait of her method, which she also teaches in her private classes: she uses a huge variety of spreads one after the other to move from an account of the querent’s past to the future.
No time is wasted on the technical details of how to lay out the cards, in what order, etc.: the reader is left to his or her own initiative of how to apply the traditional spreads. This may overwhelm us at the beginning, but it is clear that she thinks everyone should find their own way of laying out the traditional spreads, which is fair. This is possibly the most interesting part of the book: Ingallati’s method is a synthesis of many strands of traditional lore about the spreads which can be mined by reading the section carefully and comparing it to other sources.
Only after the section on the spreads does Ingallati start her discussion of the card meanings. Here, the writer spends, in my opinion, way too much time overanalyzing the various details of color and symbol. We learn, thus, that the shape of the lace on this or that character’s tunic has this or that meaning; that the number of triangular shapes on the Queen of Coin’s scepter suggests certain symbolic interpretations; that the colors of the Fool’s feathers is very important.
Of course, none of this has any historical relevance nor any bearing on the interpretation of the cards, nor with the traditional, succint meanings that Ingallati scatters around in the descriptions, sometimes almost as an afterthought. This leaves one wondering if the overzealous interpretation of the various bits of design was just the happy meeting point between the publisher needing a longer book and the writer being happy to provide it with a clear poetic gusto for the mysterious and the metaphorical. Almost every card is accompanied by snippets of poetry and aphorisms, anecdotes as well as by illustrations of some combinations.
The final part of the book is dedicated to Jungian character analysis based on the Bolognese tarot, something that the author clearly has a great deal of interest in, and for which she provides some curious combinations that might be worth trying.
Ingallati’s book is hard to review objectively. It has the incredible historical merit of having brought the Bolognese tarot to a wider public, and it is undeniable that her poetic and evocative style and her attempt at ennobling it as a ‘legitimate’ tool for divination is part of why she succeeded.
The esoteric landscape has a growing public of people I like to call educated suckers, those who think themselves too smart and learned for folk superstitions but can easily be sold on the idea of reinterpreting them as deeper mysteries of personal development and esoterically flavored self-help. This is the reason why so many ‘real and only’ Tarot of Marseilles’ get sold every year, together with ridiculously expensive courses on ‘this is not divination’ and books of metaphysical platitudes that sound deep if you don’t think too much about them.
Ingallati struck gold when she managed to appeal to this kind of public with her literary style while also preserving the teachings she received and developed from the card readers she met in Bologna. In doing so she succeeded where the small handful of other books published before and since failed: creating a niche for the Bolognese tarot. Despite my sarcasm in the previous paragraph, this is no small accomplishment. Pragmatically speaking, it is a serious merit.
The book also excels at being a treasure trove of meanings, spreads, combinations and suggestions that can be studied, reflected on and compared with other sources. It is certainly a book I recommend, in this regard.
Where to buy: Amazon
MQS
