Invitation to a Beheading: Marthe and the Spider
The routine of the prison is odd, especially when viewed through the lens of the spider and the way the people around Cincinnatus interact with it. Throughout the novel, relationships often aren’t what they seem; from M’sieur Pierre’s masquerade as a fellow prisoner to Emmie’s pretending to help Cincinnatus escape, everybody else seems to be in on some sort of inside joke. They are all part of the performance being put on simultaneously for his benefit and at his expense. The spider is a key part of this performance; as the “official friend of the jailed” (13), it’s almost constantly present. It’s treated like a pet and practically coddled by the prison staff. Also, like Marthe, the spider’s behavior is indulged by almost everyone around it.
The first time the spider is mentioned in relation to anyone besides Cincinnatus is when “Rodion finished his uncomplicated duties, chased with a rag the dust dancing in a ray of sunlight, fed the spider, and left” (46). This early appearance is the first of many mentions of the spider being fed like a pet rather than catching its own food. Throughout the novel this continues to be a main feature in Rodion’s maintenance of the cell, making it simultaneously unusual and commonplace. Again, slightly later on, “At the customary hour Rodion turned on the light and removed the bucket and tub. The spider lowered itself to him on a thread and settled on the finger which Rodion offered to the furry beastie, chatting with it as with a canary” (65-66).
The spider is a feature of the performance in the setup of the cell; when Rodion presents the cell to Cincinnatus after cleaning it, “He seemed particularly proud of the fact that the spider was enthroned in a clean, impeccably correct web, which had been created, it was clear, just a moment before” (78). The attention to detail, though perfectly accurate, is either not enough to be convincing, or active proof that the web is fake. Not to mention the fact that cleaning a room would normally entail removing any insects or arachnids from the space.
When Cincinnatus accuses his mother of being a fraud, his first comparison is to the spider: “‘No, you’re still only a parody,’ murmured Cincinnatus… ‘Just like this spider, just like those bars, just like the striking of that clock’” (134). The spider is, from Cincinnatus’s point of view, stands out among the other weirdness of the prison.
Later on, when Cincinnatus has returned to his cell after having tea with Rodrig and M’sieur Pierre: “Let us be calm. The spider had sucked dry a small downy moth with marbled forewings, and three houseflies, but was still hungry and kept glancing at the door. Let us be calm. Cincinnatus was a mass of scrapes and bruises. Be calm; nothing had happened” (169). This description of the spider and its eating habits is the first of a few off-putting details about Cincinnatus’s current situation that are interspersed with the instruction to “be calm.” This presentation gives the impression that these details are supposed to be soothing, but they come across as unsettling. This structure both highlights their abnormality and frames them as familiar, much like the rest of the strange features of the prison are treated as normal by everyone around Cincinnatus: "Last night when they brought him back to the cell, two employees were just finishing plastering the place where lately the hole had gaped. That place was now marked only by swirls of paint a bit rounder and thicker than elsewhere, and he had a stifling sensation whenever he glanced at the wall, which again was blind, deaf and impenetrable” (169).
Rodion also talks to the spider after announcing that Emmie had left, saying “(to the spider) ‘Enough, you’ve had enough… (Showing his palm) ‘I don’t have anything for you’” (171).
The spider is also often tied to the odd nature of time in the prison: "But two hours passed, and more, and, just as always, Rodion brought breakfast, tidied the cell, sharpened the pencil, removed the close-stool, fed the spider… but when Rodion had left, and timed dragged on at its customary trot, he realized that once again he had been duped” (194-195) and "Then, with the broom, he pulled down the thick grey cobweb and with it the spider, which he had once nursed with such care. To while away the time Roman picked up the spider. Crudely but cleverly made, it consisted of a round plush body with twitching legs made of springs, and, there was, attached to the middle of its back, a long elastic, by the end of which Roman was holding it suspended” (210)
The spider is a peak example of fabrication - it is one of the most consistently present aspects of performance in the prison, perhaps besides the prison itself. The way Rodion treats it is also similar to the way that the people around Marthe enable her infidelity. Rodion’s routine feeding of the spider makes its web more decorative than functional. Instead of existing out of sight and out of mind, it’s treated like an actual companion to Cincinnatus; it’s fed, and when his cell is cleaned, the spider is left in a brand new, perfectly designed web.
Cincinnatus’s life before his imprisonment is similarly unusual, and the main cause of unusual behavior is Marthe. Cincinnatus is the only person distressed by Marthe’s infidelity, so much so that her constant betrayal makes him lose his willingness to carry on pretending to be a normal member of society. When Marthe’s entire family accompanies her to visit Cincinnatus, they bring along all of their furniture, like they’re setting up their own nest or web. Marthe’s escort accompanies her, and “when they spoke they used the formal second person plural, but with what a cargo of tenderness this second person plural was laden as it sailed along the horizon of their barely audible conversation” (103). She’s brought her lover to visit her husband in prison, and their slight attempt at propriety not only fails but doesn’t seem to matter to begin with, given how inappropriate the situation already is. Marthe doesn’t behave properly as his wife, either before or after his arrest, but Cincinnatus is the only one distressed by her behavior. Everybody around them treats it as normal, and Cincinnatus is forced to accept it in some sense, too.
The comparisons between Marthe and the spider highlight the performative aspect of both the prison and Cincinnatus’s personal life. The descriptions of Marthe and the spider share characteristics; when Cincinnatus remembers Marthe at his trial, he pictures “her round hazel eyes…there was a black velvet ribbon on her soft, creamy-white neck, and the velvety quiet of her dress flared at the bottom, blending with the darkness” (20). The spider is described as gazing at Cincinnatus’s pencil “with round hazel eyes” (119). He also directly compares the two of them a couple of times, first when examining his surroundings, which include “the velvet spider, somehow resembling Marthe” (32). Later, he notices that “up above, where the sloping window recess began, the well-nourished black beastie had found points of support for a first-rate web with the same resourcefulness as Marthe displayed when she would find, it what seemed the most unsuitable corner, a place and a method for hanging out laundry to dry” (119). The spider’s behavior, not just its physical appearance, are reminders of Marthe.
In addition, the spider’s way of feeding is similar to the way Marthe preys on men. Cincinnatus, when dwelling on her interactions with one of her lovers in his letter to her, describes “your and his kisses, which most resembled some sort of feeding, intent, untidy, and noisy” (141). The reveal of the spider as a “crudely but cleverly made” prop is not unlike Cincinnatu’s discovery of Marthe’s true nature after they married, as he writes, “Can you imagine my amazement when I realized that this was her real self!” (63). Both the spider and Marthe’s actual selves turn out to be more simple and shallow than they initially seemed, just as the world around Cincinnatus turns out to be painted and fake.
The presence of the spider causes the reader to feel uncomfortable and unsure; the dynamics of relationships between characters are confusing and complex, and the oddness of the spider destabilizes the reader’s ability to decode characters and their roles in relationships. The environment of the world in the novel constantly evades stable definition, upending the reader’s attempts to understand it, in a way putting them in the same shoes as Cincinnatus.
Bibliography
Nabokov, Vladimir. Invitation to a Beheading. Translated by Dmitri Nabokov, Vintage Books,
1959.