Tricksters: Does Whatever A Spider Can

Myths and Legends

This episode of Myths and Legends explores the West African trickster Anansi, examining his cunning nature through a story where he steals his

Key takeaways

• Anansi embodies both aspirational independence and moral cautionary tales, especially relevant in contexts of oppression or displacement.

Main topics

• Anansi the trickster from West African folklore
• The story of Anansi stealing his friend's cloak to impress wives

Notable quotes

"You should never marry someone who loves you for what you can give them. You should marry someone who loves you for who you are."

Conclusion

Anansi's story reveals how trickster tales balance admiration for cleverness

Transcript preview

Speaker 2 (0:00) This time, on Myths and Legends, we're telling the stories of the legendary trickster, Anansi, from West African folklore. We'll see how to recruit small lizards and spider children to help you out with your capers, and that if someone gets mad that you made fun of them and doesn't want to hang out with you anymore, they must pay. The creature this time is a rotund little snake who's more popular than you'll ever be. This is Myths and Legends, episode 443, Does Whatever a Spider Can. Speaker 2 (0:38) This is a podcast where we tell stories from mythology and folklore. Some are incredibly popular tales you might think you know, but with surprising origins. Others are stories that might be new to you, but are definitely worth a listen. We've told Anansi stories on this podcast before, a long time ago actually, in episode 32. So Anansi is an interesting character because, even more than most tricksters, he's both aspirational and a cautionary tale. He's someone who very much lives by his own rules and will not bend in the face of even the strongest enemies. This is aspirational for, say, people who were enslaved and taken across an ocean and subjugated in a world they didn't recognize. If, however, you live in a close-knit society where people rely on one another, well, Anansi is at best a scoundrel and at worst a monster people can rally against. Because of how far the Anansi stories have traveled, there's no official or canon Anansi tales. I found these in a book of African folklore, so while it's not super specific, I'm inclined to believe they came from the Akan people in Ghana and along the Ivory Coast. Anansi is a spider-man. Kind of. It really depends on the story, how much man and how much spider there is. Basically, it's pretty loose. But in most, he's a functioning member of human society in at least some way. Anyway... We'll catch up with Anansi by going back in time to his single days. But all that's about to change because Anansi and his friend are headed into town to meet some wives. Speaker 2 (2:21) Anansi, the Spider-Man, was walking with his neighbor, a man whose parents both had a ton of money and apparently also a cruel sense of humor. Maybe it was a boy named Sue situation where, to help ensure their son would grow up to be successful and to be someone in the world, they named him Nothing. Nothing's name ended up being ironic. Like a massive Looney Tunes goon named Tiny or Little John being the biggest man in Robin Hood's crew, Because nothing took his inheritance and, through shrewd maneuvering, increased it tenfold. But he never forgot where he came from. Or his friends. Like Anansi. A thin, ragged cotton cloth? Hmm. Nothing pointed out. He just thought that Anansi would probably wear his best clothes to go get wives. And yes, that's why they were on the way to town. To get some wives. Nothing, let me tell you something about love, Anansi declared. You should never marry someone who loves you for what you can give them. You should marry someone who loves you for who you are. That's why I'm wearing this raggedy cloak. I might only meet one wife, but we will love each other no matter what. That's actually kind of sweet, Nothing smiled. Still, I don't dress nicely just for me, but sort of because I want to show respect for those around me by putting my best foot forward. Anansi looked nothing up and down with a laugh. Hey, I feel respected. That is a beautiful velvet cloak. He wasn't as rich as nothing. In fact, he didn't know if he would ever be able to afford such a beautiful cloak as that. There was a pause. Wow, to even, like, imagine what that might feel like against my skin is one of the most rewarding experiences I think I might ever have. There was another... longer pause as the two men walked. That alone would be such a gift, Anansi said, mustering as many tears as he could. Like three. Do you want to try on the cloak, Anansi? Nothing asked, and found Anansi's own thin, ragged cloth cloak thrust into his hands and the spider fingers grasping. Anansi threw the velvet over his shoulders and exhaled. Okay, can I get my cloak back, Anansi? Nothing asked. Suddenly worried about lice and fleas or whatever else felt like was crawling on his skin, Anansi's knitted brow and protruding lower lip pleaded. Speaker 1 (5:02) Aw, could he please use Speaker 2 (5:05) it for just a widow wonger? Why are you talking like that? We're almost there and I wore this cloak for a reason. Nothing said. Correction, we are there. Anansi said, and strode into town wearing nothing's cloak, while nothing scratched underneath Anansi's nasty, repurposed blanket. Speaker 2 (5:37) The three young women laughed at Nothing's new, solitary wife. Yes, wives, yes, Anansi said. Laugh at her. Make her feel bad her mom pitied this Nothing man in his paltry cloak such that she gave up her daughter to him. Your family's made the right choice. Make her feel terrible about the life she'll have with him. Anansi, come on, what are you doing? Nothing said as he walked next to his wife. I'm just joking, bud. Relax. We all know you're nothing. He turned back to his wives with a wink. They giggled, not knowing that his name was literally nothing. A Speaker 1 (6:16) servant up ahead Speaker 2 (6:17) waved his arms for his master. Ah! He had a successful trip in town and returned. The servant had come with refreshments and fresh clothes. Anansi's wives rushed forward. But nothing got there first. Anansi, what are your wives doing? Nothing said when they reached for the cup. Nothing, please. It's a long walk back. At least be neighborly, Menoncie said as he reached for a goblet of his own, one that was retracted by the servant with a glance from Nothing. I've done enough for you today, Nothing said, tossing the raggedy cloak down in the dirt and sighing as his servant draped the new one over his shoulders. As the six people continued on, roads began to diverge. The women with Anansi drifted without thinking to the wider, paved road. Nothing held up his hand, sorry, but that was the road to his house. Their families had chosen Anansi for them and hadn't given nothing a second look. Unfortunately, they needed to live with their family's choices and go with their new husband. Come on, wives, Anansi waved for them. His robe was half finished, and the finished side was in disrepair. long neglected and overgrown. Squinting down the wide, paved road, the women saw the palace. Looming beyond the animal skins, countless servants had spread for their master and his wives to walk on. Reluctantly, they followed Anansi. Nothing's fields and crops obscured the owner until the man and his wife were out of sight completely. The woman despaired when the road, farther in, where only Anansi traveled, became worse and worse, terminating at his house, his hut with something resembling, but not quite equivalent to, a roof. Walking through a door that was mostly just decorative at this point because they were still, in fact, outside, Manansi took a moment and wrapped the velvet cloak tighter. He closed his eyes and luxuriated in, for even just a moment, feeling like someone who didn't need to experience the consequences of his own poor decision-making. He took it off and tossed it on the floor. After the first week of marriages, Anansi was up one roof and down one wife. The women didn't want to sleep exposed to the sky. And since some house maintenance was to be expected in such a role in society at this time, they patched the walls and got thatch for the roof. They procured firewood and water. When asked where the plantains were so they could get started on the fufu, Anansi returned, out of breath, with an armful. He told them to dig a hole to stash them so they could ripen, but do it quickly. And a stern-looking man and his brothers from the village came just as Anansi finished piling dirt on, saying that they had followed the trail of stolen plantains here. Anansi invited them to search the house and laughed at them when they turned up nothing. The wives peeled the plantains afterward, but they wouldn't be ripe for days, if ever. Anansi declared that they wanted plantains, so he got them plantains. Man, complain much? After the third straight meal of unripe plantains and the peppers that seemed to grow in Anansi's land despite Anansi, one wife stood and walked out the door. Oh, oh, he was sorry that he couldn't be as fortunate as nothing, that the seasons had been unpredictable and his crops either kept failing or wouldn't grow, and that his livestock had been carried off by him because he was hungry. Aren't you neighbors with nothing? One wife said, I mean, don't you experience the exact same seasons? It looks like no crops were planted at all, and the crop that's never planted never grows. Anansi nodded. That was a brilliant idea, wife two. Tomorrow, his two remaining wives would get planting. The second woman who left took longer to leave than the first. She and her co-wife plowed the fields and planted the crops. Wives two and three left together, returning to the village and their families, effectively divorcing Anansi on account of his own fraud. Then, months later, wife two returned to the house, where the thatch was already beginning to fall away and what crops that had sprouted in her absence had withered to chaff. Her face was tear-streaked and her abdomen swollen. She was with child. She could leave. But Anansi, as the father and her husband, would have rights over the life of the child. Further, her family couldn't easily secure a new match for her now, so she was forced to return. The other women had secured a new match. Anansi could see them across the wide fields, where he forced his wife to come with him as he snuck onto Nothing's Land to steal food. The women were pampered in the palace. Anansi glowered. Nothing was making a fool of him. For that, he would pay. Speaker 2 (11:35) Another one of her cooks is ill. He might die. Nothing's wife said over dinner. Nothing shook his head. That was bizarre. How did that keep happening? The wives looked at one another and then to nothing. Were they really having this conversation again? They knew who it was. The same person who hung all those logs to drop and swing at his head like some Ewok trap. Or the person who lined his cloak with knives. We're the person who hired those goons but didn't pay them enough to wait all day, so they left before Nothing made his trip into town in the afternoon. We don't know about that last one, Nothing said. We do. Anansi's wife warns us of everything. It's Anansi. Nothing sighed. He refused to believe that his neighbor, his friend, was capable of that. If you let him continue, one of these times he'll be successful. He needs to be punished. It's the only thing he understands, the wife said. But nothing shook his head. He couldn't believe Anansi would do something like all of those things. Anansi's life is punishment enough, nothing said. Taking a bite of dinner. I can't imagine being him. The wife said that was the problem. Nothing couldn't imagine being him. So he didn't know what Anansi was capable of. The lengths he would go to in order to avenge even the pettiest slight. Nothing refused to speak on it anymore, though, and said that he, they, would take the high road. They would persist. The wives weren't wrong, of course. Anansi was very much taking the low road, what with all the attempted murders, especially now, too, because Anansi had found a rat. Anansi sat down on the ground, across from the literal rat. He apologized for insisting that this couldn't be in his home. Anansi's wife just hated rats. The rat understood. He was trying to combat that stereotype and actually preferred to do his business out in the open like this. Show everyone he had nothing to hide. So you dig, right? Anansi studied the rodent. The rat said they would do anything Anansi needed and their prices wouldn't be beat. Anansi stood and paced. He had a client that preferred anonymity. But, well, the rat looked like a trustworthy fellow. Did the rat know nothing? Rat was almost offended, but quickly understood that Anansi was talking about the guy. Oh yeah, nothing, great man. Well, someone is trying to kill him, Anansi said, with no small degree of panache. As Rat knew, Anansi was nothing's neighbor and best friend, so he was taking the initiative here. They were going to set a trap for the murderer. The plan was this. A hole, a deep hole, right in front of Nothing's front door. Rat would dig into the field and bore it at a safe distance, working underground, digging it out until there was just a thin layer of earth under Nothing's front step. Then, they would lure the murderer and he would fall in the hole. The rat asked why Anansi was coming to him and not Nothing, but Anansi only laughed. Rat really was a decent guy, huh? Couldn't think like a criminal at all. If the bad guy saw nothing talking to the rat, then he would draw the conclusions and avoid the trap. Rat nodded. Wow. Yeah, that made sense. Nothing was lucky to have such a good friend looking out for him. It took a while and Rat had to bring in extra guys and buy more tools for the job. But eventually, he did it. He cleared out everything, save a load-bearing amount of dirt. that Anansi said he himself would get when the time was right to lure the murderer. Rat brought out the papers to settle up, but Anansi looked at the setting sun. It was getting late. Tomorrow. Tomorrow, Rat would get everything