Critical Introduction
Christina Rossetti (1830–1894) was closely associated with the Pre-Raphaelites, including her brother, Dante Rossetti; her poetry, therefore, often concerns itself with unconventional approaches in order to get to what is seen as the truth while at the same time holding a real reverence for Christianity. Poems such as “No Thank You, John” and “Promises Like Pie-Crust” depict women with great inner strength, a departure from Victorian female characters who are vacuous or rely on men for their identity. The same is true of “Goblin Market” (1859), which is generally read as a meditation on female desire and sexuality, and depicts male sexuality as polluting and transactional.
The reader is meant to sympathize with Laura and Lizzie, who are innocent and whose sexual experiences read more like sexual assault. The goblin men, with their insistence that the protagonists “buy” their fruit, are aggressive and intrude upon the idyllic life depicted up to that point. The wares that they sell are sexual in nature: fruit contains the seeds of the plant, making it (especially apples and peaches) an inviting sexual metaphor for poets of every age. The fact that they sell their fruit also inserts a financial motif into the poem, which could very well be a social commentary on the arranged marriages that were common in nineteenth-century England. Whatever the interpretation of Laura, Lizzie, and the goblin men, there is no doubting the seductive nature of these monsters. Although Rossetti deflects the desire from the goblin men onto the fruit they sell, they nevertheless attract Laura in a way that few monsters in this collection do, while also repelling her sister because of their dangerous nature.
Reading Questions
As you read the poem, keep in mind the gender politics it depicts. The protagonists are female and endangered by the monsters; the monsters are male. This is, however, complicated by the fact that the goblin men attract Laura. Both female protagonists go to the monsters, a reversal of the usual structure in which the monster invades or somehow initiates the conflict. Why might this be so? Are there cultural, narrative, or psychological reasons for this departure?
If the conflict with a monster is successful, the protagonist usually vanquishes it. This, in a way, happens in the poem, but the victory is complicated.