Talking of spiders

I talked to spiders a lot as a child. My mother says how she would often find me holding one in my little girl hand, chatting away and telling it stories. A conversation with a spider is necessarily a one-sided affair, the lack of reply compensated for by their great hanging around listening abilities. Somewhere along the line between nappies, ankle socks, gingham summer dresses, hair ribbons and high heels I stopped the monologue for some reason. Reason itself, probably.

A lot of people are terrified of spiders and, for them, just to have one in the room is a sickening experience. I’ve never developed a real deep dread of spiders and enjoy watching them going about their spidery business, although I certainly don’t like them sharing my duvet or hitching a ride upon my person. Psychological research seems to suggest that the fear of spiders (and snakes) may be innate if not omnipresent. If this (presumed) survival mechanism is instinctive and in-born, does the child observing Mummy standing on a stool shrieking in terror at the sight of one have any impact at all on whether we too will be afraid of spiders in our turn? Or would we be bound to have inherited her fear – or not – through our own individual genetic blueprint anyway? The spider fear conundrum perhaps.

There was a spider that lived in a small drill hole in the wall outside the front door of our old house in Gillingham. She would sit there, head poking out and her four front legs poised on the threshold of her den. It seemed an unlikely and un-nourishing place to set up home, but then I’ve never seen a spider-orientated house makeover programme and she lived there for a long time happily enough as far as we could tell. She became so much part of our personal landscape that Roo and I would go and check to see if she was there each morning when we picked the milk bottles off the doorstep and each evening after school and work. We still looked for her out of habit for a long time after she died.

But like them or loathe them, we do have an endless fascination with spiders and their habits. Their random scuttling, their lurking in dark corners, their turning up out of nowhere, their ability to create a complex web from nothing, their sometimes venomous fangs, their weird eyes, their possession of too many hairy stocking-ed legs... They just seem so alien to us, so repellent and yet so fascinating at the same time that it’s no wonder they occupy such a prominent place in myth and fairy tale and even everyday language with its webs of deceit, intrigue and sinister shady doings.

There is an allegorical element too I think of the relationships between male and female in our thoughts and stories about spiders. The infamously venomous and otherwise solitary black widow who sometimes kills and eats her mate after he has served his reproductive purpose. Or many variations of the legendary spider, always female, the man cast as the hapless fly lured into her exotic web by her beguiling beauty and trapped there, powerless, helpless and enchanted. It’s not my fault, pouts the petulant foot-stamping boy inside his handsome hairy man-suit. She made me do it.

How strange then that you can nowadays, if you so wish, find yourself a mate - should you choose to do so - by using the world wide web. Just tread carefully if you do.

The Spider And The Fly (1829) by Mary Howitt (1799 – 1888)

Will you walk into my parlour?" said the Spider to the Fly,

'Tis the prettiest little parlour that ever you did spy;

The way into my parlour is up a winding stair,

And I've a many curious things to shew when you are there."

Oh no, no," said the little Fly, "to ask me is in vain,

For who goes up your winding stair can ne'er come down again."

"I'm sure you must be weary, dear, with soaring up so high;

Will you rest upon my little bed?" said the Spider to the Fly.

"There are pretty curtains drawn around; the sheets are fine and thin,

And if you like to rest awhile, I'll snugly tuck you in!"

Oh no, no," said the little Fly, "for I've often heard it said,

They never, never wake again, who sleep upon your bed!"

Said the cunning Spider to the Fly,

"Dear friend what can I do,

To prove the warm affection I 've always felt for you?

I have within my pantry, good store of all that's nice;

I'm sure you're very welcome -- will you please to take a slice?"

"Oh no, no," said the little Fly, "kind Sir, that cannot be,

I've heard what's in your pantry, and I do not wish to see!"

"Sweet creature!" said the Spider, "you're witty and you're wise,

How handsome are your gauzy wings, how brilliant are your eyes!

I've a little looking-glass upon my parlour shelf,

If you'll step in one moment, dear, you shall behold yourself."

"I thank you, gentle sir," she said, "for what you 're pleased to say,

And bidding you good morning now, I'll call another day."

The Spider turned him round about, and went into his den,

For well he knew the silly Fly would soon come back again:

So he wove a subtle web, in a little corner sly,

And set his table ready, to dine upon the Fly.

Then he came out to his door again, and merrily did sing,

"Come hither, hither, pretty Fly, with the pearl and silver wing;

Your robes are green and purple -- there's a crest upon your head;

Your eyes are like the diamond bright, but mine are dull as lead!"

Alas, alas! how very soon this silly little Fly,

Hearing his wily, flattering words, came slowly flitting by;

With buzzing wings she hung aloft, then near and nearer drew,

Thinking only of her brilliant eyes, and green and purple hue --

Thinking only of her crested head -- poor foolish thing! At last,

Up jumped the cunning Spider, and fiercely held her fast.

He dragged her up his winding stair, into his dismal den,

Within his little parlour -- but she ne'er came out again!

And now dear little children, who may this story read,

To idle, silly flattering words, I pray you ne'er give heed:

Unto an evil counsellor, close heart and ear and eye,

And take a lesson from this tale, of the Spider and the Fly.

Picture of female Black Widow Spider by George Grall from National Geographic

http://animals.nationalgeographic.com/animals/bugs/black-widow-spider.html