Do you believe your future is set, or do you believe in free will?

Loaded. Question.

Personally, I’m a big believer in free will because I’m a big fan of people taking responsibility for what they do and what they put out into the world. Which probably makes my rapidly growing collection of divination decks seem like an odd choice for expenditure. Why spend money on something if I don’t believe in the inherent validity of its purpose?

The nice thing about something like cartomancy is you can assign whatever purpose to it you want. Do I believe a random selection of cards is going to lay out a detailed summary of my future before me and thus set me on an exact path to XYZ? Some people do. I envy them the security of their vision.

I do not. For me, tarot and oracle cards, individually and collectively, are meant to be parts of a story: my story. They’re meant to help me focus the million thoughts constantly swirling in my brain and pick out what needs the most attention – be it where my career is going next, why I’m feeling particularly anxious on a given day, or what that feeling poking me in the hindbrain might be – so I can separate it out, dissect it, and figure out what to do about it.

Oracle cards aren’t meant to get you out of the work of life. They’re meant to help you clarify what needs your mega mind in a particular moment so you can move on to write the next part of your story.

Bummer. I know.

That said, using the cards as a focal point can make the work a little more fun and a little more beautiful because each deck is a collection of miniature works of art. One of the reasons people tend to end up with multiple decks is not only because we find different ones appeal to us on different days (sort of like having a few beloved hoodies) but also because having multiple decks allows us to support, and own art made by, several of our favorite artists in different styles at an affordable price point.

I tend to buy decks that are either on the more macabre side or are very highly stylized with extremely clean lines. With that in mind, cute little Lenormand is a bit of a departure, but the photos St. Martin’s sent along with the press email were, indeed, extremely cute – far too cute for me to say no when they offered a review deck.

If you’re considering the deck, the most important thing to understand (which I didn’t until I started getting into the accompanying book) is that cute little Lenormand isn’t a tarot deck. Per Sara Lyons’s introduction, the 36-card deck was designed by J.K. Hetchel in the late 1700s and used for a parlor game called The Game of Hope. The cards were spread out in numerical order and players would roll dice to decide which card they “landed on.” The goal was to land on card 35, The Anchor, without overshooting and landing on 36, The Cross. The game became popular at the same time as cartomancy was becoming popular across Europe. When Marie Anne Lenormand, one of its most famous proponents, died in 1840, a very smart publisher repackaged the cards and renamed it The Game of Hope as an omen deck.

Lyons goes on to explain that the user of a Lenormand deck is meant to interact with the deck rather than read the future of them – to use a reading as an opportunity to “pull together” the puzzle of a present-tense narrative instead of looking for clues of what might be.

I have to say that even though cute little Lenormand is a departure from my norm – or maybe because it’s a departure – I really enjoyed playing around with it. It’s a smaller deck, which makes it much easier to bring along if you happen to be lucky enough to be going anywhere these days. It’s substantial enough that I wasn’t concerned about losing or damaging the cards (which slot into a convenient envelope attached to the back cover of the book), and I could read the print in the book without difficulty (I am an old and now have to think about such things). Despite being a hardcover, the book is compact and light enough that it doesn’t take up a ton of space or add much weight to my backpack.

The art is adorable, and I did enjoy the pastel palette, which manages to be both bright and soothing. The pinks and blues and yellows entourage more experienced cartomancers to relax, and my younger kiddo, who’s very intimidated by my other decks, was immediately enchanted with Lenorman and tried out a couple of the spreads mapped out in the instructions without any hesitation whatsoever. The fact that Lenorman is specifically created to be more intuitive and inclusive in terms of iconography and language definitely helped them feel more comfortable as well, as did the quick guide to the cards on the inside of the front cover.

We’re definitely fans of cute little Lenormand here in the Sondheimer household, and I’m curious to seek out other Lenormand decks now and maybe add some to my collection.

I did not. But you learn something new every day.