#The red string of fate? [Equivalent to her role in the Web of Life and Destiny]

[arakhne]

The Spider and the Web

Spinning and Weaving in Myth, Metaphor and Media

It is no surprise that spiders are so often despised and vilified, considering the potential danger of their venomous bite, and the nuisance of their cobwebs. They are also widely admired, however, for the beauty and intricacy of the webs they spin, and the surprising strength of their threads. They are seldom given credit for their importance in the ecosystem, and their usefulness to humans in keeping down the population of flies, mosquitoes and other less desirable arthropods. For obvious reasons, spiders have been frequently associated with the craft of spinning and weaving, which has an important place in human culture and a rich history in myth and metaphor. In spite of this, they are also connected with darkness and danger, and have come to symbolize evil and the much maligned aspects of magic and witchcraft.

The presentation of spiders in literature and media is equally nuanced. Many writers have displayed an apparent prejudice against spiders, while others have celebrated their merits. For Tolkien, the dark female spider Ungoliant in the Silmarillion, and the giant female spider Shelob in 'The Lord of the Rings' were the embodiment evil and terror, while for E.B. White, the diminutive female spider in 'Charlotte Web' was the embodiment of charm, intelligence, and selflessness. For George Bernard Shaw, the arachnid was associated with a fear of success - the "end of one's business on earth, like the male spider, who is killed by the female the moment he has succeeded in his courtship."

The predominance of feminine associations with spiders may have a lot to do with the fact that most female spiders are significantly larger than the males, and will often eat them after copulation. The males use elaborate courtship rituals to prevent being eaten before fertilization has taken place. In the case of web weaving spiders, the patterns of vibration on the web are a way for the males to identify themselves, whereas the male hunting spiders will hypnotize the female by means of touch, and jumping spiders perform gestures and dances. All of these elaborate rituals inevitably end in the demise of the male spiders who become food for the female, and in some species the male will even assist her by impaling himself on her fangs. The females of some species meet no better fate, and after laying their eggs they too will perish. These anecdotes of nature remind us of a strange irony in our personal drive for survival. Our mortality requires us to reproduce in order to prolong our genetic heritage, yet the process of reproduction often marks the end of our lives as individuals.

The Greek word arakhne is the origin for the scientific class of Arachnida, whereas the class Araneae is from the Latin word, both meaning spider and spider web. Arachne is also the name of a character in Greek mythology, who was a great weaver, taught by the goddess Athena.

In spite of her similar sounding name, Ariadne, another character from Greek mythology, bears no overt relation to Arachne, however there are deeper connections between the two. Ariadne was known for having helped Theseus escape from the labyrinth where he killed the minotaur by providing him with a thread he could use to find his way back out. The labyrinth bears much resemblance to a spider's web, with its spiral pattern designed to entrap all who enter, and the terrifying creature that dwells within, waiting to devour the victim.

Ariadne hanged herself. Erigone ended her life by hanging herself. Artemis is referred to as the hanged one. Helen of the Trees is said to have been hanged by Polyxo.

Athena is the patron god of both Penelope and her husband Odysseus. Penelope was endlessly weaving as she waited for her husband's return.

Athena is the goddess of wisdom, skills and warfare, but also weaving and woodwork, which involve

The Roman version of Dionysis was Bacchus who gave his name to the bachanalia, the wild and drunken mystical celebrations that have been practiced since ancient times in veneration of the God of wine and revelry.

The connection of Ariadne's thread to that of the spider is repeated in the curious case of the kimura-gumo, a Japanese spider which represents one of the last remnants of the old world spiders. One thing that distinguishes this species is that the spinnerets are located in the middle of the body instead of the rear, to where evolved to in modern spiders. It makes it's home in a cave-like burrow surrounded by a protective cobweb. When it goes out of the burrow to hunt it leaves a trail of thread behind to assist in the return journey. Unlike the case of Theseus, who followed Ariadne's thread to escape the prison of labyrinth after slaying the minotaur, this spider uses the thread to return to the dark den that is its home after slaying its prey.

The thread of fate in Greek mythology has an analog in the 'red string of fate' originating in East Asian folklore, which suggests that the gods tie an invisible thread between two people who are destined to be together. Like a spider's web, this cord may stretch or tangle, but it will never break.

According to Herodotus, it was the men who were the primary weavers of the Ancient Egyptians. Nevertheless, the act of weaving was connected to the goddess Neith, whose name means weaver. She was originally the goddess of war and hunting, also known as Nit, Net or Neit. The interpretation of her name as meaning 'water' led to her role as the personification of the primordial waters of creation. She was depicted holding a goad, and part of her hieroglyph may have been interpreted as a loom, thus later connecting her with weaving, and she became the goddess who wove the world into existence with her loom. She was also the protector of women and the guardian of marriage. She was sometimes depicted with both a weaver's shuttle and bow and arrows, other times with the head of a lioness, snake or cow. She was titled the 'Nurse of Crocodiles,' and was originally identified as the mother of Sobek, the crocodile god of the Nile. Neith was also known as the great cow who gave birth to Ra. As the goddess of war, she was associated with death, and wove the bandages and shrouds of the mummified dead as a gift. She protected the canopic jar which held the stomach, considered the most vulnerable organ in battle.

The three fates of Greek mythology, known as the Moirai, or 'apportioners', were believed to control the metaphorical thread of life of every mortal from cradle to grave, and all gods and men were submissive to them, with the exception of Zeus. The first of the Moirai, Clotho, was known as the spinner, as she spun the thread of life from her distaff onto her spindle, and her Roman equivalent, Nona, or the ninth, was called upon during the ninth month of pregnancy. The second of the Moirai, Lachesis, the drawer of lots, measured the thread of life allotted to every individual with her measuring rod. The third, Atropos, the inevitable, or unturning, would cut the thread of life and determined the manner of each person's death with her shears. Her Roman equivalent was Morta, or death.

Through the metaphor of weaving, these fates can be seen as connected to spider and the story of Arachne. In Roman mythology, which was largely inherited from the Greeks, the three fates were known as the Parcae. There is also an equivalent in Norse mythology, known as the Norns. They were powerful maidens who nourished the tree of life, Yggdrasill, from the Well of Uror. One possible source for the origin of their name is from a word meaning 'twine', referring to their weaving the thread of fate. The name of one of the trio of prominent norns, Uror, means 'fate', referring to the past tense, or that which has already happened. The other norns in the trio are Veroandi, from the verb 'to be', or that which is happening, and Skuld, from the Norse verb skulle, or that which is yet to be.

The tools of weaving, in the form of the distaff used in spinning wool, are also found in the Norse sorcery or witchcraft, known as seid, or seior, which may relate to the word for 'cord' or 'string'. It was predominantly practiced by women, and involved the incantation, or 'weaving' of spells and possibly a circular dance. It was considered an unmanly and manipulative pursuit by the Vikings, and the god Odin was said to have been taunted by Loki for practicing seid. This sorcery was also practiced by the goddess Freyja, who was associated with love, beauty and fertility, as well as gold, war and death. Another related Norse goddess, Frigg, or Frigga, was associated with weaving. She was considered foremost among the goddesses and was the wife of Odin, and queen of Asgard, and she was also associated with childbirth. The term Friday comes from her name, and the stars of Orion's belt were known to the Norse as 'Frigg's spinning wheel' (Friggerock) or 'Freyja's Distaff' (Frejerock), possibly due to the spinning of the stars along the celestial equator.

Both Freyja and Frigg, who may be variations of the same goddess, can also be associated with the character of Frau Holda, or Holle, from Grimm's fairytales. She is the supernatural matron of spinning, childbirth and domestic animals. She oversees the cultivation and spinning of flax, and she teaches and rewards the hard worker, sometimes finishing their reels during the night. Thus she can be connected with the busy activity of the spider in the dark. In some parts of Germany spinning was forbiden during the twelfth night or Christmas eve festival in observance of Frau Holda, whereas in others flax is loaded into the spindles as Holda promises 'As many threads, as many good years' The work must be finished by the time she has done her rounds and returns on the day of Epiphany, otherwise she promises 'As many threads, as many bad years.' She was believed to be out in the wilderness during this time in midwinter, which was when the dead were thought to roam. She can take the form either of an old hag, or a youthful maiden dressed in snowy white. Although she has no children, she is the protector of children, and the souls of the newborn were said to enter into the world through her sacred pool. It was her connection with spinning and weaving that associated her with witchcraft in Catholic German folklore, and she was believed to ride upon a distaff, the way a witch would ride a broom.

The character of Huldra, from Scandinavian folklore, is a seductive forest creature, related to the German Holda. She appears as beautiful and sometimes naked, with long hair, but is hollow behind, with the tail of a cow or fox. She may lure men into the forest to have intercourse with her, and rewards those who satisfy her and kills those who do not, making her reminiscent of the deadly mating behavior of the spider. Unlike Holda who is a childless protector of children, Huldra sometimes steals infants and replaces them with her own ugly huldrebarn changelings.

In spite of the widespread appearance of spider symbolism throughout history and across the globe, there are very few instances of an actual spider deity. One of the few significant examples, still only a conjecture, is the Great Goddess of Teotihuacan, that is also known as the Teotihuacan Spider Woman) The representation of this goddess has been found in various murals from the pre-Columbian civilization that existed from around 100 BCE to 700 CE in the region of modern day Mexico. She seems to be quite unique to that location, and it thought that she represents the underworld, being associated with earth, water, war and creation. Along with the jaguar and the owl, the spider was considered a creature of darkness, dwelling in caves and subterranean locales. She is often depicted with spiders scurrying in the background, or on her arms and hanging from her clothing, and sometimes carries shields decorated with spider webs.

But we must not take the metaphor of the spider too far, for then we are in danger of a fallacy known as 'reification', or 'concretism', in which an abstract idea is mistaken for a real physical entity. Certainly spiders exist, and webs exist, however their nature and behavior, while they may resemble human ideas and characteristics, are nonetheless independent of any real connection. The correlation between time and weaving does not mean that the weaving activities of some goddess somewhere causes cosmic time to come into being. Furthermore, the fact that many female spiders may consume the male after copulation has no real bearing on the nature of behavior of human women.

The critic John Ruskin coined the term 'pathetic fallacy', in his words “to signify any description of inanimate natural objects that ascribes to them human capabilities, sensations, and emotions." He saw the poetic use of anthropomorphism as a sign of artistic weakness, however many other critics have argued in favor attributing human traits to animals or inanimate objects, suggesting that this is a universally embraced approach to understanding the world, and has always been essential to mythology, art and literature. We cannot fault some of the greatest storytellers in history for using such imaginative devices to spin a good yarn.

The origin of the imaginary author Mother Goose may have been the French "Bertha the Spinner" (Berthe la fileuse), or "Goose-Foot Bertha" (Berthe pied d'oie), and she is often referred to in French legends as spinning incredible tales that captivated children. It is from this tradition that we get the tale of 'Sleeping Beauty', and the familiar image of the spinning wheel.

In order to grow, spiders, like other arthropods, must shed their skins, or cuticles, in a process called molting.

In spite of the predominance of web spinning spiders in the popular consciousness, there is a dazzling variety of feeding behaviors methods in the spider world. The female bolas spiders patrol a single line of thread like a tightrope, then make a ball of sticky silk with which to catch their prey, and they attract moths by emitting chemical that mimic their pheromones. The primitive trapdoor spiders, as well as many tarantulas, hide in burrows from which they ambush their prey. Other spiders rely solely on their vision, speed and agility to chase and catch their prey.

The portia, a type of jumping spider which feeds on other spiders, exhibit the capacity for learning and problem solving in the intelligent ways they lure or outflank their prey. The name 'portia' comes from a Roman clan name, meaning pig, and it has been most famously used by William Shakespeare in 'The Merchant of Venice', who portrays her as rich, beautiful, intelligent and gracious. It is, perhaps, ironic that the same name should be associated with a cunning spider, since it is Portia who delivers the famous speech against cruelty:

The quality of mercy is not strain'd. It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven Upon the place beneath. It is twice blest: It blesseth him that gives and him that takes.

The portia spider, on the other hand, seems to be twice cursed, not only does it use it's intelligence to the demise of its prey, but the victims also happen to be other spiders.

Spiders about in the media and popular culture, from Spiderman to The Kiss of the Spiderwoman. In Charles Dickens' novel Great Expectation, 'the spider' is used as a nickname for the rival of Pip, a despicable character named Bentley Drummie who marries Pip's childhood love Estella and treats her poorly. In the 1998 movie adaptation, Finn's lawyer is named 'ragno' which, we are told, means 'spider' in Italian.

It is possible to see many different correlations between the spider's web and human attributes. In order to be effective, the web must fulfill three important functions: interception of the prey's trajectory, absorption of it's momentum, and retention of the prey. This is similar to the factors necessary to process information - first we must encounter the information, second we must absorb it into our consciousness and understanding, and finally we must retain it, if it is to become useful knowledge.

I recently came across a quote from the philosopher Sir Francis Bacon, in which he uses the metaphor of a spider's web to decry the shortfalls of inner knowledge without external experience. In "The Advancement of Learning" in 1605, he wrote: "Here, therefore, is the first distemper of learning, when men study words and not matter." In support of his argument, he compared the spider to the wit and mind of man, "...if work upon itself, as the spider worketh in its web, then it is endless, and brings forth indeed cobwebs of learning, admirable for the fineness of thread and work, but of no substance or profit...." It seems ironic that one so learned as Bacon, who had indeed observed and studied nature extensively, should overlook the fact that the spider's web is of paramount importance to its survival, and can therefore be seen as full of 'substance and profit', especially from the point of view of the spider.

Perhaps Bacon meant to suggest that the spider's web is of no use to humans, though he even dismisses their aesthetic appeal, by referring to them only as cobwebs which, having served their purpose and being no longer functional, are discarded by the spiders and left to cause a nuisance to humans. His dismissive attitude is reinforced by Bacon's various other uses of the spider web as a cautionary example, "the reasoners resemble spiders, who make cobwebs out of their own substance," (Aphorism no. 95) and "laws were like cobwebs; where the small flies were caught, and the great brake through." (Apothegms no. 181) These aspersions undermine the glorious achievement and marvel of nature that is the spider web.

Shakespeare presents a more nuanced view of the spider and its web. In Richard III he continues the tradition of unpleasant associations, referring to the 'bottled spider' along with toads and venom, and the 'deadly web' that 'ensnareth'. In 'A Midsummer Night's Dream,' however, he alludes to the use of the spider web as a traditional form of healing band aid, when Bottom says "I shall desire you of more acquaintance, good master Cobweb: if I cut my finger." In 'The Winter's Tale', Leontes describes how a spider may be drunk unseen and do no harm, for its venom is not partaken of, but if the spider is drunk and seen, then the knowledge becomes unbearable.

The American naturalist Edwin Way Teale suggests that "the difference between utility and utility plus beauty is the difference between telephone wires and the spider web."

The spider's web can be seen as flimsy and insubstantial, "the weakest of houses is a spider’s house," says the Qur'an. They can also be associated with the delicate silvery gossamer that mystified poets like Spencer, who refers to their fine nets as 'scorched dew', or John Keats, who likens the spider's web to the 'airy citadel' of personal imagination. Yet according to the Ethiopian proverb "when spider webs unite, they can tie up a lion." The spider's web means one thing to the spider, and something quite different to the fly.

In the modern consciousness, the web has come to be the preferred metaphor for the vast network of digital information that is the internet, and a spider refers to a computer program that crawls the web for information. This metaphor might appear to overlook the intended purpose of the internet, which is ostensibly for the sharing of knowledge, as opposed to that of the spider's web, which is to ensnare its prey. However, the metaphor is more accurate than it first appears when we consider the predatory dark side of the internet, and the dangerous traps that abound online - many of which are designed to enrich the adepts at the expense of the unsuspecting. Wrote the Scottish playwright Sir Walter Scott:

"Oh! what a tangled web we weave When first we practice to deceive!"

Dangers of a different kind also exist on the web, the abundance of pornography and sexual predators lurking in search of impressionable victims. "Come into my parlor, said the spider to the fly." Even the more benign inanities of the World Wide Web can sometimes catch us off guard, giving us the same unpleasant surprise that we feel when walking into an invisible spider web in the dark. To borrow a popular idiom from internet culture, one the spider has been seen, it cannot be unseen.

Without sufficient information we may risk drinking a spider or walking into its web, but sometimes too much knowledge will make us overreact to situations that may not be as perilous as they seem. The boundaries between irrational fear and sensible caution have never been easy to discern. The dangers of real world experience may seem greater than those of abstract studies, but the rewards of both may be equally worthy of pursuit.