symbol of the oppressive establishment, Valentin finds that his love for her endures, contrasting with his revolutionary ideology. In the narrative's conclusion, Valentin's morphine-induced hallucination depicts Marta coming to liberate him from his misery and guiding him to a fantasy island. This dream sequence serves as a profound exploration of Valentin's duality—his commitment to revolutionary pursuits versus his persistent emotional attachment to Marta. The dream culminates in a touching moment where she reassures him, "this dream is short but this dream is happy," embodying the intersection of political ideals and personal longing.

Through the characters of Molina and Valentin, Puig explores numerous contrasts, many of which have appeared in his earlier works. Notably, he highlights the typical opposition between the sensitive, creative, effeminate character and the strong, emotionally reserved man of action. In this story, the latter is a solitary revolutionary who sacrifices personal desires to achieve his political objectives. Valentin diligently studies his political science books, while Molina helps them pass the time by recounting elaborate movie stories — the more fantastical, the better. This dynamic raises the recurring theme of escapism versus commitment to positive action, along with the inevitable question of the artist's role. As Molina narrates one of his favorite films, set in Nazi-occupied France, Valentin critiques it as blatant Nazi propaganda. Whether this notion has even crossed Molina's mind is unclear, but it does not diminish his enjoyment of the film, as the romantic heroine captivates his imagination. Thus, the significant issue of art's responsibility to truth and morality is introduced, but remains unresolved.

Undoubtedly, Molina, who arranges for clean sheets and exotic foods, and who makes the hours pass pleasantly with his movie stories, embodies a quality of imagination that renders life bearable. He embellishes reality, transforming the prison cell into a sanctuary. One might then ask, what is wrong with maintaining such a world of illusion? Perhaps, Puig suggests, imagination is all there is. Valentin, conversely, is so dedicated to his idealistic political vision that he denies himself even the illusion of love, as it would distract him from the more pressing matters of the revolution. Valentin imposes strict demands on himself and expects others to adhere to the same moral standards. His loyalty is to a political ideal, a principle, never to an individual. In contrast, Molina's life is guided by his love for a select few — a young waiter, his mother, and eventually Valentin.

Molina, embodying the "spider woman" of the title, ultimately entangles Valentin in his web of stories and seduces him both metaphorically and literally. Concurrently, Valentin persuades Molina that his life of pretending to be a woman is frivolous and lacking commitment, urging him to engage in political activism. As they share their aspirations, Molina begins to adopt Valentin's identity. Upon his release from prison, he attempts to deliver a message to Valentin's comrades. He dies in the process, an effort driven more by his love for Valentin than by any true political conviction. Following his death, Valentin questions whether Molina was simply enacting another romantic fantasy, playing his part with the enthusiasm of a movie heroine. In the end, the two men appear to swap identities: Molina dies in action, while Valentin drifts into a pleasant, morphine-induced dream of the girlfriend he sacrificed for the revolution. Furthermore, a closer look reveals that Valentin's idealistic beliefs in a grand cause might be just as fanciful as Molina's cinematic stories. This identity exchange is characteristic of Puig, showcasing the resemblance between seemingly opposite positions and illustrating how the human mind creates fictions to live by.

As seen in Puig's earlier novels, the central theme here is the individual's betrayal by the illusions they live for. However, in this novel, Puig seems to acknowledge that without these fictions, regardless of how they trap their victims, there isn't much left but the harsh reality of a prison cell. Puig, as the author, also serves as a metaphorical spider woman. The novel's conclusion, "This dream is short but this dream is happy," reflects on the story itself and reaffirms the significance of the world of illusion.