We Must Not Look at Goblin Men

We must not look at goblin men,
We must not buy their fruits:
Who knows upon what soil they fed
Their hungry, thirsty roots?

I have always been fascinated by Goblin Market, Christina Rossetti‘s long narrative poem about seduction, temptation, courage and sisterly devotion. As a child, I loved the language, the rhythm, and the story without understanding any of the more sinister connotations and symbolism. Although Rossetti herself insisted the poem was intended solely as a children’s tale, subsequent scholars have made much of the symbolism of juicy, enticing fruit offered by friendly goblin men who later abandon and ignore the innocent girls who give into temptation, leaving them to waste away from frustrated desire.

For this piece I focused on the lines above, and

One had a cat’s face,
One whisked a tail,
One tramped at a rat’s pace,
Once crawled like a snail,
One like a wombat prowled obtuse and furry,
One like a ratel tumbled hurry skurry.

I hope to make further pieces based on Goblin Market (it’s a very long poem!) including one based on these lines: