[Niamh’s Reads] Goblin Market

Beware the moonlit glen. 

Niamh McGonnell-Hall leads us through the silvery woods of Goblin Market,

and how this 1862 poem is not just for 19th-century maidens. 

Trigger Warning: this piece contains depictions of assault.

The stars rise, the moon bends her arc,

Each glowworm winks her spark,

Let us get home before the night grows dark. (Rossetti 246-248)

Christina Rossetti’s Goblin Market (1862) is a tale filled with glowing fairy circles and little creatures dancing between moonlit trees. But it is also a tale of much less fanciful things. Don’t let the cottage core imagery fool you, as this is not a tale for the faint-hearted. 

Rossetti opens with an entire stanza of dazzling fruit, the sweet temptations of the goblin men, urging maidens to “come buy, come buy” (4). Within this cacophonous distraction of “bright-fire-like barberries” (27) and “bloom-down-cheek’d peaches” (9) is an unsettling undertone that would make almost any woman wary. Rossetti masterfully weaves an immediate warning throughout this opening, something taught to every child since the beginning of time—never take food from strangers. Whilst Laura and Lizzie knew they mustn’t look upon the goblin men “hobbling down the glen” (47), Laura does not heed her sister's warning. 

When the goblin men find Laura, they display a rather disturbing synchronicity and pack-like maliciousness, which impeccably reminds us of the mischievous yet dangerous nature of goblins in just a few lines. Rossetti speaks directly to readers with the “sugar-baited words” (234) of the goblin men and gives us a signal that they are not just processing through the wood with plates of fruit merely for the fun of it, instead they intend to snare and bewitch. Giving over a golden lock, Laura becomes a symbol of curious innocence in the clutches of this band of goblins. They aim to appear just as innocent as her, with their dancing and woven baskets of fruits, which allows them to lure her into a deadly trap. 

After spinning into a magical fruit-induced haze, she returns home. Only to be greeted by her sister, Lizzie, who spouts yet another warning—“Twilight is not good for maidens” (144).  Even though Rossetti's poem was written in 1862, it paints a stark image of modern-day society, where women find themselves in danger by consuming something that leaves them entirely vulnerable, and Lizzie’s constant warnings of dwindling daylight serve as a reminder of modern-day dark alleyways and carparks. 

When Laura cannot think beyond the fruits of the goblin men, her sister warns her with the haunting tale of Jeanie, who met the goblin men in the moonlight and has been buried in the field ever since. Even in death, her depiction still exudes an innocent feminine quality:

While to this day no grass will grow

Where she lies low:

I planted daisies there a year ago

That never blow. (158-161)

This imbuing of innocence reinforces connotations of a maiden taken by the dark clutches of the goblins. Whilst faerie folk have been cast into a bright light in modern day tales; i.e. Tinkerbell, Rossetti reverts to the traditionally malicious nature of the fae, constantly crafting a haunting undertone, despite her inclusion of woodland imagery. This depiction of Jeanie's death undercuts the fairytale-like imagery of her poem, ultimately transforming the light-hearted trickery of faerie folk into something with real consequences, including the finality of death. 

Then the goblins cease to appear and the withdrawal sends Laura into a bedridden decay, foreboding the same sticky end as Jeanie. Her sister, Lizzie, braves the moonlit glen, and when refusing to sit and eat with the goblins and rather take their fruit home to the sickly Laura, they insult her. So after showering her in niceties, she says no, and then they drop their masks. Sound familiar? They turn violent and even try to force their fruit into her mouth, a striking and animalistic image that alludes to the true message of this poem. 

Rossetti now hurls at us opposing imagery of the innocent Lizzie as a “lily in a flood” (409) and “a royal virgin town” (418) beset upon by all manner of wild things. Now, we can look at this virgin innocence in the literal sense of maidenhead virtue. But if we remove this social influence, we can also see that Rossetti’s symbolism of Lizzie as innocent in comparison with the deadly and vile goblins still survives. This reading of the oppositional imagery makes it more contextually relevant as a metaphor for today's world. Her assault, caused by her witty refusal of their deadly game, presents us with a striking visual image that holds a mirror to our current world, even with the removal of the notions of virgin innocence. A 21st century reading of Rossetti’s poem plants the seed of reflection that a moonlit glen full of fairies is actually a metaphor for the dangerous world women face. 

At the conclusion of Goblin Market, we see Laura and Lizzie all grown up. But instead of their troubles being behind them, the threat of the goblin men has transferred to their daughters and they fear for their safety. 162 years later, this story still resounds with the likes of women, girls, mothers and anyone, regardless of gender, who is afraid to walk down a dark alleyway in fear of what is lurking. 

However fearful this ending may be, Rossetti leaves us with a glimmer of hope. 

For there is no friend like a sister

In calm or stormy weather;

To cheer one on the tedious way,

To fetch one if one goes astray,

To lift one if one totters down,

To strengthen whilst one stands. (562-567)

A stark declaration, at the end of such an emotionally draining poem. A reminder that even in the darkest of woods, a sister will be there to light the way.

Endnotes:

Rossetti, Christina. “Goblin Market.” 1862

https://rpo.library.utoronto.ca/content/goblin-market