Spider of Mars

In case you haven’t noticed I have a thing for spiders. Well, really one Spider in particular – but that’s led to a general curiosity about all things arachnid. Over the years I’ve read tons of books on spider biology and lore, eventually coming to narrow my focus to material pertaining to Greece, Italy and West Africa which seem to be the cultural strains most relevant to my Spider. I thought I’d read everything – and I do mean everything: have you ever combed through Pliny and the corpus of Peripatetic zoological treatises? I have and there’s precious little joy in such an endeavor. In fact when I die I’m going to make a special detour on my way to the symposion of Dionysos to track down Aristotle so I can kick him in his ghost-nuts.

Needless to say I was a little surprised when I came across this scholion on Nikander’s Theriaka:

And Theophilos, of the school of Zenodotos, records that in Attica there were two siblings; Phalanx, a boy and the girl was named Arachne. They were tutored by Athene, Phalanx learning the arts of war from her and Arachne the art of weaving. However the goddess came to abhor them since they had intercourse with one another, transforming them into animals destined to be eaten by their own offspring. (Schol. in Nic., Ther. 12.a)

That’s almost a better origin story than we find in Ovid. Of course that potentially complicates things since I’d filled in the back story a bit, proposing a seduction by Dionysos similar to the one hypothesized for Erigone (herself a double for Ariadne) and even found a possible son of Arachne and Dionysos who parallels Iakchos and was likely connected to the Lenaia festival. On the other hand what I’ve been unraveling may be the story of the Lydian Arachne – whereas a while back I stumbled upon a Persian Arachne as well, and now, apparently, there is an Attic Arachne to add to the list. Not that I believe them to be unrelated – indeed, this adds an interesting twist to the thread.

For instance, the relationship between Arachne and Phalanx has an obvious parallel to the consanguineous unions of the Ptolemies, not to mention Ariadne herself. (And I don’t mean Asterios, though yes, there is that; people often forget that Ariadne and the son of Semele have a common ancestor in Europa.) And of course, transgressive sexuality is a strong element in tarantism and before that the Bacchic cults in Southern Italy.

Which leads to the next interesting bit of this. What Theophilos actually says in the Greek is that Athene taught Phalanx hoplomachia which are war dances such as the Pyrrhikos:

But the Pyrrhic dance is not preserved now among any other people of Greece; and at the same time that it has fallen into disuse, their wars also have been brought to a conclusion; but it continues in use among the Lacedaemonians alone, being a sort of prelude preparatory to war: and all who are more than five years old in Sparta learn to dance the Pyrrhic dance. But the Pyrrhic dance as it exists in our time, appears to be a sort of Dionysiac dance, and a little more pacific than the old one; for the dancers carry thyrsi instead of spears, and they point and dart canes at one another, and carry torches. And in their dances, they portray Dionysos and the Indians, and the story of Pentheus: and they require for the Pyrrhic dance the most beautiful melodies, and what are called the “stirring” tunes. (Athenaios, Deipnosphistai 631a-b)

Now you may be linking that to the circle dance of the Thyiads – but I have something much more specific in mind:

The tarantati want ribbons, chains, precious garments, and when they are brought they receive them with inexplicable joy, and with great reverence they thank the person who brought them. All of the aforementioned items are placed in an orderly fashion along the pen where the dancers make use of one or another item from time to time, according to the impulses the attack gives them. [...] In the castle of Motta di Montecorvino I had the occasion to see five tarantati dance at the same time and inside of the same stockade: they were four ploughmen and a beautiful country lass. Each had taken an alias, from among the names of ancient kings, no less. They treated each other in such a way that reciprocal affection was observed, and compliments were reiterated to the great admiration of the spectators. They happily performed the usual course of the dance over three days; the last evening, before taking leave, they politely asked for a squadron of men at arms, ready to fire a salvo and that was brought for them. [...] Afterwards they took a deep bow and said: we will see each other next year and then they collapsed. When they came to they were greatly fatigued and the wretches did not remember a single thing. Finding themselves in the midst of such a multitude of people they only begged to be taken home. (Domenico Sangenito to Antonio Bulifon, Lettere memorabilia istorche, politiche ed erudite 141ff)

This is not the only instance where the afflicted tarantati took on the persona of long-dead soldiers; Ernesto de Martino devotes several pages of his book to a discussion of their fondness for martial music, swords and other accoutrements of war but I never paid much attention to it because my taranta, according to his system of classification, is melancholic and libertine. Suddenly that aspect of it makes so much sense, and I foresee a trip through La terra del rimorso in my future.

I find it interesting that I should be given this piece of the puzzle now, considering how much Daktyloi, Korybantes, Telchines and Kouretes have been coming up. And of course Phalanx, the eponymous hero of the phalanx formation, has much in common with Phalanthos and Taras and Niko and Philemenos who were depicted as hoplites and cavalrymen. I feel like I’ve been introduced to a whole new member of the family!

And while I was seeing what I could turn up on Phalanx I came across this:

Among classes of spiders the Greeks also include a phalangion which they distinguish by the name of ‘wolf.’ There is also a third kind of phalangion, a hairy spider with an enormous head. When this is cut open, there are said to be found inside two little worms, which, tied in deer skin as an amulet on women before sunrise, act as a contraceptive, as Caecilius has told us in his Commentarii. There is another phalangion called rhox, like a black grape, with a very small mouth under the abdomen, and very short legs as though not fully grown. Its bite is as painful as a scorpion’s sting, forming in the urine as it were spider’s webs. The asterion is exactly like it, except that it is marked with white streaks. Its bite makes the knees weak. Least dangerous of all is the ash-coloured spider which spins its web all over our walls to catch flies. For the bites of all spiders remedial is a cock’s brain with a little pepper taken in vinegar and water, five ants also taken in drink, the ash of sheep’s dung applied in vinegar, or spiders themselves of any sort that have rotted in oil. (Pliny, Natural History 29.86)

Did you catch that?

Say, Mr. Spider – what’s your name again?

Ἀστέριος ὄνομα.

Incidentally Theophilos was an Italiote Greek who wrote a history of Sicily that was still considered authoritative in the time of pseudo-Plutarch. Perhaps he was drawing on local traditions about Arachne even if the story was transposed to Attica – traditions that persisted underground through time.