The Hanged Man is the trump whose original meaning is best documented and least known, and the gap between the two is instructive.
In fifteenth-century Italian cities, a man who had betrayed a trust, defaulted on a debt or fled justice could be punished in his absence by having his portrait painted on a public wall, hanging upside down by one ankle. The practice is called pittura infamante, shame painting, and it was a real legal and social instrument, carried out by named artists under municipal contract. The card shows exactly that: a man suspended by one foot, the other leg crossed behind, hands often bound or hidden.
A fifteenth-century player did not see a mystic in voluntary suspension. He saw a traitor. The Italian name for the card, Il Traditore, the traitor, is attested, and the French Le Pendu simply means the hanged man.
The modern reading, willing sacrifice, surrender, the reversal of perspective that yields insight, and in many popular accounts a comparison with Odin hanging on the world-tree, is entirely a product of the occult revival. The Odin comparison in particular has no historical connection to the card whatsoever; it is a twentieth-century observation about two images that happen to resemble each other, and it is frequently presented as though the card were derived from the myth. It is not.
None of this makes the modern reading useless. A card of enforced humiliation reinterpreted as chosen surrender is a real interpretive move with real value. It is simply a move, made recently, by people who did not know what they were looking at.