The Spider Within

The discussion of good and evil seems to be bound up in the discussion of light and dark. Flieger explains the prominence of light in Tolkien’s history as an illustration of his technique in which he “confer[s] literality on what would in a primary world be called metaphor and then [illustrates] the process by which the literal becomes metaphoric” (49). In Tolkien’s world, light is strongest with the Valar and diminishes, or splinters, throughout the history of Middle-Earth. What light truly represents is another discussion, but I think it is safe to say that its source lies in Eru, the source of all creation.

Melkor is obviously the bad guy in Tolkien’s mythology, and we’ve discussed, though perhaps not conclusively, the ways in which his actions can be defined as evil. Yet Melkor is “human,” in that he, like the other Valar, experiences emotions such as envy and fear and desire for the silmarils, which represent the misguided “human” attempt to gain control over and possession of light (Flieger 108). Melkor is far from all-powerful, and the root of his weakness is his blindness to his own folly as he attempts to seize light for himself. 

In Tolkien’s world, there are multiple darknesses. One is the physical darkness that lies in night and under star, and this is the darkness of the Moriquendi, who have never seen the trees. At the same time, the physical darkness may represent their diminished knowledge, in comparison to their High Elf kin, or their unwillingness to go to Valinor. A second darkness is metaphorical, the darkness in one’s soul. This is the darkness that seems to indicate evil. In these terms, evil is thus movement away from the spiritual light, the light which ultimately stems from Eru. The third darkness is a giant spider.

Nobody really knows where Ungoliant comes from, but Melkor seeks her help for his revenge, and for good reason too. She is a monstrous thing, swollen and appropriately spidery, and she hungers always for light. Her powerful cloud of darkness allows them to sneak into Valinor and escape from pursuit. Considering that she does all of the work, it’s only fitting that she demands payment in full—including the very jewels that Melkor desires to take into his own possession.

In Sayers’s discussion on Good and Evil, she describes how the creative will might call Evil into Being, as opposed to leaving it alone as Not-Being, allowing evil to become positive and active. She uses an illustration of the existence of Hamlet creating a category of Not-Hamlet: 

“But if Not-Hamlet becomes associated with consciousness and will, we get something which is not merely Not-Hamlet: we get Anti-Hamlet. Someone has become aware of his Not-Hamletness, and this awareness becomes a center of will and of activity” (102). 

Ungoliant is the Anti-Hamlet. She is the result of literality conveyed upon metaphoric Darkness that is not just the absence of light but is defined by its Not-Lightness; she is Anti-Light. 

Ungoliant is always hungry for light, but what is this light? It is more than the light of the trees or the light of jewels, but rather she hungers for the light inherent to everything that exists. Unlike Melkor, who diminishes as he uses his power, when Ungoliant acts, she grows even larger and more monstrous. She consumes light and unmakes it, expelling it as darkness. And her darkness is, for all intents and purposes, a cloud of non-existence: “an Unlight, in which things seemed to be no more, and which eyes could not pierce, for it was void” (81, emphasis added). As Darkness, Ungoliant is the antithesis of Light, and as the antithesis of Light, she is the antithesis of being. “Dost thou desire all the world for thy belly?” Morgoth asks incredulously (89), and though Ungoliant denies it, it is not difficult to imagine her consuming the world. It is only fitting that Ungoliant is the one who eventually ends her own existence by devouring herself. 

Trapped in his futile quest for the dominance of light, Melkor really is a tragic figure, just like Fëanor and Thingol and everyone else who hurries into darkness in desperate yearning to gain light. Even from the beginning, he has looked for light in the wrong places, traveling deep into the void in search of the Imperishable Flame, when the Flame resided with Ilúvatar all along. Light finds its source in Ilúvatar, just as the rest of the world comes into being through his will and his only. As long as Melkor strives to possess light while rejecting Ilúvatar’s will, he goes further into spiritual darkness, in the very opposite direction of his longing.

Ultimately, Melkor is afraid of Darkness, just as all beings are. Once upon a time, Ungoliant worked with him, but she is not obliged to submit to his will, and by the end of their dealings, Ungoliant is a power far greater than he. When Melkor cries out as Ungoliant advances upon him, it is a cry for help (or at least, it is interpreted as such by his loyal servants). More than that, it is a cry of fear—Melkor does not want to be enmeshed by the ever bloated Darkness, yet he does not realize that is indeed his fate. By consuming the very light that Melkor covets, Ungoliant illustrates Melkor’s inward reality. He too hungers for light, but that hunger only leads to darkness.

Ungoliant would seem to be the true evil in Tolkien’s world: Eru is the creator and she is the un-creator, and if we follow in Augustine’s reasoning, non-existence is the one thing contrary to God (473). Yet Ungoliant too was created and was thus given being by Eru in the first place. Questions of her existence and the mechanics of her light-devouring, while thought-provoking, seem nonessential if we view Ungoliant mainly as an illustration (and the origin for Shelob & co., who make for great literary entertainment). Melkor’s resistance to and implied distaste of Ungoliant reveals his own failure to recognize the all-consuming, metaphorical darkness that is his fate, should he continue to chase after possession of the light that can only come from Ilúvatar.

KY

Works Cited:

Augustine. City of God. Penguin Classics.

Flieger, Verlyn. Splintered Light: Logos and Language in Tolkien’s World. Kent State University Press, 2002.

Sayers, Dorothy. The Mind of the Maker. Harcourt, Brace and Company.

Tolkien, J.R.R. The Silmarillion. Ballantine Books, 1977.