Episode 294: “Goblin Market” by Christina Rossetti, Part 1

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Welcome back to The Literary Life Podcast! This week we begin a brief, two-episode series covering Christina Rossetti’s narrative poem “Goblin Market.” Our hosts, Angelina Stanford and Thomas Banks, look at the life and family background of Christina Rossetti, highlighting her devout Christian faith as key to understanding her poetry. Thomas shares the dates for the Victorian and Pre-Raphaelite periods in terms of art and literature. Angelina asks what the form of this poem is as we approach this together, and she and Thomas propose a few connections and preliminary ideas they have about “Goblin Market” before we dive into the full text. Join us next week as they walk through the poem together and further discuss how to read this work as well as so much more!

Visit the HouseofHumaneLetters.com to sign up for all the upcoming and past mini-classes and webinars taught by Angelina, Thomas, and their colleagues!

We are excited to announce this coming year’s annual Literary Life Online Conference, happening January 23-30, 2026, “The Letter Killeth, but the Spirit Quickeneth: Reading Like a Human”. Our speakers will be Dr. Jason Baxter, Jenn Rogers, Dr. Anne Phillips, and, of course, Angelina Stanford and Thomas Banks.

Commonplace Quotes:

He had the peppery intolerance which is so often found in small men.

William McElwee, from England’s Precedence

All themes and characters and stories that you encounter in literature belong to one big interlocking family.

Northrop Frye, from The Educated Imagination

Books and Links:

Goblin Market by Christian Rossetti

Why Literature Still Matters by Dr. Jason Baxter

The Princess and the Goblin by George MacDonald

A Green Cornfield

by Christian Rossetti

The earth was green, the sky was blue:
I saw and heard one sunny morn
A skylark hang betweent he two,
A singing speck above the corn;

A stage below, in gay accord,
White butterflies danced on the wing,
And still the singing skylark soared,
And silent sank and soared to sing.

The cornfield stretched a tender green
To right and left beside my walks;
I knew he had a nest unseen
Somewhere among the million stalks.

And as I paused to hear his song
While swift the sunny moments slid,
Perhaps his mate sat listening long,
And listened longer than I did.

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