Margarethe Petersen. I love the art, it's really beautiful, but as tarot, it doesn't speak to me at all. Not a single word. It's six or seven years since I bought it - not one reading that I could make sense of. Maybe I have to work more with it and not give up so easily.
Lo Scarabeo. I trimmed it, I made a cute little tin for it, I like the concept, it's an intelligent deck and some cards are really really clever. But the cartoonish artwork and the sexy babes everywhere are simply not for me. It looks shallow to me. As though the illustrator had absolutely no connection, no inner concept, of the tarot, its actors, scenes, archetypes and symbols, but simply followed an instruction sheet. Probably it's really unfair of me - but this deck with its skilled use of water colors, lightness, intelligence and interesting ideas leaves me cold. Cold. Cold.
I hated the Jungian and traded it away. I deeply regret buying the Art of Life tarot.
All other decks in my little collection are much cherished and beloved.
Margarethe Petersen's time may come, Lo Scarabeo's as well. Once I use them consistently, I may build up a connection. But while the Wild Unknown, Etruscan, Secret Forest, Morgan Greer, Anna K. and Thoth answer all my questions and return love with love - I don't bother with the marginal decks. (Marginal for me.)