Opinions and Commentaries, Poems and Prose

Come Buy, Come Buy

February 17, 2024

“Morning and evening maids heard the goblins’ cry, ‘come buy our orchard fruits, come buy, come buy!'” (1)

The famous poem ‘Goblin Market’ by Christina Rossetti was first published in 1862. I remember it well as a child, from a book called “A Child’s Garden of Verses”, but whether it was actually meant for children is arguable. There are many interpretations of this dark allegory and it has long been associated with the perils of sexuality for young women, particularly during the Victorian age, with its notions surrounding ‘fallen women’. I tried to read it again recently but found it impenetrable, with its awkward florid Romantic style, contrived rhyme and abounding with similes of dimpled fingers and swan-like necks. This is a shame because I tend to think of it as one of the most important poems with a relevance perhaps even more important now. As with many a good work of art or literature, people see different meanings in it and I’ve just read another interesting interpretation by Rowan Lee.

The central theatre takes place by a river in a glen, a liminal zone close to where the sisters lived together in their safe home and knew to beware of at times of half light and to studiously ignore the call of the goblins who appeared then with their seductive cries of ‘come buy our orchard fruits, come buy, come buy’ (2). Sister Lizzie holds firm to denial, but sister Laura finds the temptation too overwhelming to resist and is drawn inexorably to the goblins and their delicious looking wares, but she has no cash with which to buy. Not a problem, the goblins assure her, for “You have much gold upon your head!” And she cuts off a lock of her hair to give in exchange for the fruit. The symbolism of this can be debated, but is highly suggestive of a transaction related to the person themselves, rather than ‘mere cash’, a kind of selling of the body or soul, although a woman’s hair in many ancient and traditional societies generally connotates her sexuality, which is why Moslem women cover their heads, and women wore hats upon entering a church (whilst men removed them).

It’s all the fine art of the sell. And now, with the virtual market, goblins also abound virtually, but for me perhaps few so pernicious as those selling spirituality, and quick (if expensive) life fixes. It would be hard to exaggerate the sheer numbers of these life fix gurus and their online courses, masterclasses and workshops, pitched to get you out of your lacklustre, failed or meaningless life by offering you ‘protocols’, generally floated on imaginative new age takes of quantum dynamics and energy, and centred upon concepts such as ‘manifestation’, but predictably still promising the age old sought outcomes of wealth, fame and success (the ‘fruits’). There is unquestionably a Faustian pact (3) hidden in it all, and, Lizzie-like, there are those who can see this clearly, but, sadly, legion are the Lauras who find it completely irresistible. There are also the many life coaches and mentors, perhaps impossible to judge for their veracity or effectiveness simply from the hype of their websites, who work out life plans on an individual basis for set fees. My issue is less with these however as probably many are legitimate enough. The ones I reserve particular criticism of are those which construct beguiling narratives showcasing the extraordinary examples of particular individuals who seem to have serial good fortune in their lives (wealth, fame, success) and so forth. I find these particularly offensive given they are directed at the generality of folk who feel ‘lost’ and are desperately looking for some way out of their difficult life circumstances, and the sales pitches of these promotions are designed to be almost impossible to resist. Who hasn’t wanted some quick fix out of a difficult time in their life or something to help them give it meaning? The magic ingredient has usually been distilled from the success story of the show cased individual, and then packaged up into modules or workshops, the first usually for free and so on. Seeing some of these it’s clear to me that many of these life fix gurus and spiritual entrepreneurs are simply marginally slicker versions of the standard snake oil salesmen.

In the poem, having gorged herself on the goblins’ fruit, Laura then begins to pine for it. But she is quite unable thereafter to even hear, let alone see the goblins again, as Lizzie is still able to, however many times she visits the glen and its river at dusk. And little by little she pines away, ageing prematurely, clearly dying. Sister Lizzie resolves to go and buy some fruit herself to bring back to Laura, but the goblins are angry that they cannot force her to eat the fruit herself and become violent, smashing the fruit over her until she drips with its juice. Returning to her sister, she lets her taste the pulp of the fruit still on her, and this effects a miraculous cure. Not only is the taste of it now loathsome, but it proves the antidote and from then she recovers.

As pointed out earlier, there are many interpretations of the poem’s symbolism, for example as in modern addiction narratives. And we now live embedded in a capitalist system with its emphasis, not merely on exchange, but the monetisation imperative and the profit motive: money for goods, money for services; nothing is ‘for free’ unless designed as a ‘lost leader’ to lure in the unwary. When the fruits of life are appropriated by agents of such a system, what might have been once the free heritage of everyone then becomes a for profit resource and so on. For me Goblin Market is emblematic of the world we live in now. I once wrote in an autobiography that in early life, despite glimpses of the freedom I longed for, I too often returned to a place ‘where fast food and cheap meal deals (always bought with a piece of your heart) abounded’. Its something like that. But the reader can make of it whatever resonates with them.

To conclude with the selling of spirituality and the overall theme of this post, I would ask this. When you meet someone who is lost and asks you for directions, do you charge them for helping them? When Jesus gave his famous Sermon on the Mount, did he charge his audience? When any of the greatest spiritual masters, such as the Buddha, gave their wisdoms to the many for their enlightenment, did they charge for this? If you had discovered some way of being that had genuinely allowed you to live a better life, would you not want to share it with everyone? Do you not want to alleviate suffering, or merely profit from it? The only true ‘wealth’ is Enlightenment itself, after which not all the wealth in the world really matters any more anyway and, as I have argued elsewhere (in ‘Moksha. The Price of Enlightenment’), this is also paradoxical inasmuch as it is both affordable, but also will cost you everything you have. Whether a pauper or a billionaire you always have enough to give for it, because it’s whatever you have. You give away your worldly assets, not sign up to some expensive course to learn how to make more.