I think Blake's comment on the Shelob quote is worth repeating: "Freud Surrenders."

The Shelob scene for those without the book is:

Sam sprang in, inside the arches of her legs, and with a quick upthrust of his other hand stabbed at the clustered eyes upon her lowered head. One great eye went dark. Now the miserable creature was right under her, for the moment out of the reach of her sting and of her claws. Her vast belly was above him with its putrid light, and the stench of it almost smote him down. Still his fury held for one more blow, and before she could sink upon him, smothering him and all his little impudence of courage, he slashed the bright elven blade accross her with desperate strength.

But Shelob was not as dragons are, no softer spot had she save only her eyes. Knobbed and pitted with corruption was her age-old hide, but ever thickened from within with layer on layer of evil growth. The blade scored it with a dreadful gash, but those hideous folds could not be pierced by any strength of men, not though Elf or Dwarf should forge the steel or the hand of Beren or Turin wield it. She yielded to the stroke, and then heaved up the great bag of her belly high above Sam's head. Foison frothed and bubbled from the wound. Now splaying her legs she drove her huge bulk down on him again. Too soon. For sam still stoodu upon his feet, and dropping his own sword, with both hands he held the elven-blade point upwards, fending off that ghastly roof; and so Shelob, with the driving force of her own cruel will, with strength greater than any warrior's hand, thrust herself upon a bitter spike. Deep, deep it pricked, as sam was crushed slowly to the ground.

No anguish had Shelob ever known, or dreamed of knowing, in all her long world of wickedness. Not the doughtiest soldier of old Gondor nor the most savage Orc entrapped, had ever thus endured her, or set blade to her beloved flesh. A shudder went through her. Heaving up again, wrenching away from the pain, she bent her writhing limbs beneath her and sprang backwards in a convulsive leap.

Now one should keep in mind that spiders only have two parts: a belly and legs. You are always between the legs of a spider if it is attacking you. And of course he's using a sword, its a battle for heaven's sake. Anyway i think the salon article is really making something of nothing, although its kind of fun to play these sorts of Freudian games once in a while. At any rate with this Freudian reading, "Her vast belly was above him with its putrid light, and the stench of it almost smote him down" becomes a lot more amusing.