[Bêthberry]

You know, I specifically did not refer to Freud in my post because 1) I don't place much value in his kind of psychoanalytic psychology and 2) I don't think he has the final word on archetypes and 3)my argument was based on other criteria.

So, as a matter of fact, davem and Kuruharan, whether you are dismissive of the suggestion simply because you seem to dislike Freudian interpretations is irrelevant because it does not address the nature of my argument. I agree with you that many forms of supposedly Freudian symbolism is flimsy, particularly that which jumps on a supposed applicability without considering the context.

Meaning accrues not from dictionary definitions but from the basic way we make sense of language--from decoding the likeliest of possible meanings, for example: we make inference from the co-text, from how the words around a word suit and fit. Words of a feather fly together, you might say. Consider this sentence:

Father fell out of a tree and broke a limb.

'tree' and 'limb' belong to the 'tree' designation. 'fell', 'broke' and 'limb' belong to the 'bone injury' designation. Which designation does 'limb' belong to? It is ambiguous. This multiple desingation, the resonance and ambiguity, is what makes literary language in particular so rich with reflected meaning. (Comedy routines are of course notorious for exploiting this kind of ambiguity.) This power of designation or relationship is build on probablity, of course, but its power is determined by its uniqueness. Clichés have an inevitable collocation: bite the dust, fall in love, etc. But where collocations are not expected or habitual--well, there lies the kind of improbability upon whick literary meaning is built.

This collocation begins with the line about Sam defending Frodo as his "fallen mate", and continues through 'horn', 'the arches of her legs', the 'splaying legs'. Consider other meanings of 'impudent'--not just boldness, but also 'lack of modesty, shamelessness.' It would be possible to write this passage with other words which don't tend towards this reflected meaning.

But lexis is not the only argument. Shelob shares many physical charactertistics with the demon Lilith: stench, appetite, lust and lack of chastity in its wider and older form, number of offspring, cruelty. Lilith was said to murder infants and Jewish folklore included a number of amulets and sayings said to protect infant males from her in the days before the ritual of circumcision. What is the passive Frodo here but an infant swaddled in her web? (This, I admit, might be stretching things a bit.)

Why would both Tolkien and Lewis choose to depict a primeval force of evil as female? (Fifty-fifty, I guess, eh?) What might their similar ideas have been touching upon or drawn from?

Perhaps ideology might also play a part in interpretation here. Some might not be familiar with or might not accept the existence of a primitive form of evil in female form in the Christian tradition, a form which was overcome by patriarchial monotheism. When Mary is enthroned on a pedestal of virtue and honour, she overcomes earlier denigrating portrayals of the female aspect. It is almost a manichean kind of split. It makes perfect sense to me to have a repulsive female evil thwarted by the power of Galadriel--mythologic sense. How many mythologies contain stories of how female deities lost power and influence to male deities? Why wouldn't that aspect of mythologies be reflected in Tolkien's subcreation? If Goldberry can be related to celtic water spirits (as davem has pointed out), why is this reworking of old legend not possible?

And none of this in any way negates the concept that evil contains the seeds of its own downfall (no pun intended), a point which I have argued elsewhere here on the Downs some time ago.

So, you see, it is not a smoking cigar, but many pieces to a puzzle.