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Saturday, November 29, 2025 - 13:36
Lesbian Historic Motif Podcast - Episode 329 – Ma’am, This is a Fruit Stand by Maya Dworsky-Rocha - transcript
(Originally aired 2025/11/29)
When story submissions are coming in, in January, my principle is not to start reading, beyond the information that goes into the log-in spreadsheet, until submissions have closed. I was strongly tempted to break that rule for Maya Dworsky-Rocha’s story “Ma’am, This is a Fruit Stand” based on the title alone. Despite the humorous allusion to the Wendy’s meme, this is not a funny story. Rather, it echoes the meme’s critique of how to respond to inappropriate customer behavior from a position of power imbalance. The story envisions a different side to the interactions in Christina Rosetti’s poem “The Goblin Market.” (I hope you refreshed your familiarity with the poem by listening to the previous podcast episode.) While “The Goblin Market” is of obvious sapphic interest due to the sensual framing of the relationship between the two female protagonists, it has been criticized for imagery and language that can reasonably be viewed as anti-Semitic. There is a long European tradition of equating goblins and Jews, as well as using Jewish characters as a stand-in for queerness. These motifs inspired Maya to take the point of view of the goblins, still retaining the focus on an intimate friendship, to suggest that Lizzie and Laura might have been very unreliable narrators. We’ll have the author on the podcast in the next episode to talk more about this topic.
Dr. Maya Dworsky-Rocha is a cultural anthropologist, which means she thinks people are kind of neat. She writes about real things, less real things, and outright lies, and lives in Oregon with her wife, who is a lumberjack. She is also one half of the writing duo known as "Sylvia Barry", who can be investigated at their website sylviabarrybooks.com.
The narration and the music composition and performance are by me, Heather Rose Jones. Content warning for implied sexual assault, orientalism, and graphic descriptions of eating fruit
This recording is released under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International Public License. You may share it in the full original form but you may not sell it, you may not transcribe it, and you may not adapt it.
Ma’am, This is a Fruit Stand
by Maya Dworsky-Rocha
Applegold was flirting with their reflection again, and I’d just about had it.
“Would you put that thing away?” I snapped. “What if you accidentally open an orchard door out here?”
Applegold rolled their eyes and didn’t move from their sprawl atop the melon crates, rocking with the cart’s judder, still admiring themself in the shiny golden plate. “Did you hear that, Pinesweet? Little Figrose thinks I might accidentally make a door.”
Pinesweet’s mouth twitched into a smile under the brim of his broad hat, and I hunched next to him, feeling foolish.
“It’s very hard to make an orchard door, even on a sunny day like this,” Pinesweet said patiently, clucking to the carthog. He kept one hand wrapped in the reins, and used the other to gently pat my knee. “Don’t be nervous, little one, the market won’t be as frightening as you think.”
I almost wished Applegold would open an orchard door, just so I could fall through it and disappear. I’d hoped to survive my first time at market without embarrassing myself, but we hadn’t even made it to the outskirts of town.
Sure enough, Applegold took the opportunity to tease me as much as possible. “Don’t listen to him, the place is terrifying. Humans are big, and loud, and they look at you like you’re lunch.” Applegold flipped blue-black curls out of their dark, long-lashed eyes, cheeks shining round and copper on either side of a smile.
Applegold had only been to market once more than I had—that is, at all—but they had a way of seeming like an expert on anything and everything.
I looked at Pinesweet, hoping for some indication that Applegold was making things up, but he just looked thoughtful, eyes narrowed and distant, staring out at the dusty road. Applegold was grinning and licking their lips like a hungry human.
I swallowed hard. “They eat meat, don’t they?”
Applegold nodded. “They’d eat Peachpeach if we let them.”
The carthog snuffled at the mention of her name, and Pinesweet shushed both her and Applegold. “All the more reason to sell them fruit. We need their gold, but we need their goodwill more.” He batted at Applegold without looking. “Don’t bruise the melons, silly child.”
Applegold shifted their weight and perched on the edge of the cart, finally stowing the plate. Their tassel hung dangerously close to the wheel, swaying with Peachpeach’s gait. I automatically reached behind me to make sure my own tassel was not in danger of tangling in anything. I’d only begun wearing mine a few months ago when I’d come of age, and I was still occasionally struck with sudden panic that it had come undone and slipped off without my noticing. I ran my fingers along the knots and braids, timing my breath to the spaces between them. I wasn’t quite ready to loop it in my belt like Pinesweet and other adults did. Like Applegold, I wanted my newfound maturity to be seen and admired.
Not to the point of dangling it over the edge of the cart, like Applegold, but then, no one was like Applegold. They caught me looking again and winked, reaching for their lyre harp. “You better not look at humans like that, Figrose, especially the women.” They strummed a chord, and sang out in a laughing, husky voice:
“We must not look at human girls
Don’t sell them more than fruits.
Who knows what dreams they’ll hang on us
As hungry, thirsty brutes.”
“Applegold, that’s enough,” Pinesweet barked. He took a deep breath, narrow shoulders shuddering. “I lost my Meadowblue that way. Human desire can kill.” He glanced at me, almost apologetic, wide mouth pulling the rest of his face downward like heavy fruit on a thin branch. “Your young friend is silly and vain, but they’re right, Figrose. Be careful who you smile at. The men don’t like us near their women, and the women don’t like us near their children. The city laws can only keep us so safe.”
I gripped my tassel tighter. Applegold plucked at their harp a while, sulking, blending their music with the surrounding birdsong and the rhythm of the cart’s creaky wheel.
Pinesweet squinted out at the horizon of rolling hills, and clicked his teeth. “We’d better get off the road before the sun gets too low.”
We both sat up a little stiffer, scanning the road ahead and behind for travelers. We were invisible to them during the day and night, but sunrise and sunset made us vulnerable. The market was one of the few places we were allowed, even if we weren’t exactly welcome. Out here on the road there were no laws protecting us.
“I hear a brook.” Applegold stood, gracefully swaying with the cart’s movement, and pointed towards the ribbon of trees unfurling at the bottom of the hill. I could hear it too, if I concentrated, the sound of water trickling over stones, and I could see flashes of sunlight tossed back and forth between the water and the silvery willow leaves. It almost seemed like home.
The hill was too steep for Peachpeach, so we unloaded most of the fruit and carried it down ourselves. Pinesweet let Peachpeach out of her harness, and asked her to be back before midnight.
As I watched the hog frolic away into the underbrush, her little tail swishing, I couldn’t help wondering, “Pinesweet, why don’t we open orchard doors closer to the market?”
“Again with the orchard doors,” Applegold groaned, stacking crates of yellow pears.
“Questions are the shoots of wisdom,” Pinesweet reminded them, then smiled at me. “It’s dangerous to open doors too close to human towns. They might sense them, or come looking, and they won’t give us gold for what they can take for free. Best to bring our produce through in a remote place, then travel to where the humans are in their own world.”
I nodded. It made sense. Still, the time spent out in the open—even if we were mostly hidden—had left me jumpy and exhausted. It was tempting to imagine using the gold-shine we had to open an orchard door here, in this grove, bringing our wares through and sleeping safely under the fruit trees. Like we did during the harvest.
Home was a sliver of light away, but also a full day’s ride.
I helped Pinesweet and Applegold finish unloading and had just begun preparing the evening meal, when a scuffling sounded from the brush across the brook.
We froze.
Pinesweet made the little clucking noise that served as Peachpeach’s nickname, but she didn’t appear, snuffling and wet-nosed from between the reeds. Instead, a voice rose, loud and ringing like a brass bell. Like no voice I’d ever heard.
It said: “Oh, Lizzie, look, look at the little men!”
“Laura, shut up! They’ll hear us.”
My throat slammed closed and fear turned every muscle to ice. Pinesweet had gone pale and frozen, but Applegold’s eyes were sharp and glinting. Before either I or Pinesweet could stop them, they called out:
“Come buy, come buy!”
More rustling, and two enormous figures emerged from the rushes. They unfolded on the far bank like pillars of cloud and fire. It took me a moment to realize the cloud was cloth—white flower-patterned dresses, and the fire was hair, bright gold and flashing yellow. They were so much larger than I’d expected, their skin pink and white and blue in places, their eyes round and light like a lemur’s, their mouths red and full of flat wide teeth.
The one closest to us had warm golden hair and red cheeks and strong arms, and was staring at Applegold like they were a particularly ripe plum. “Hello,” she giggled. “Oh, Lizzie, he looks like a cat!”
Lizzie, the one with ashy yellow hair and sharper, freckled features, eyed me like the worm in the plum. “Ugh, yes, and this one looks like a rat.”
“Oh, Lizzie, the raspberries.”
Applegold moved like they’d come unstuck and gathered a handful of berries, holding them out to the two humans like they were tempting Peachpeach back to her pen. “Come buy our orchard fruits,” Applegold crooned, their eyes sliding towards me playfully.
Pinesweet was still frozen, now curled in on himself like a snail, hidden almost entirely beneath his broad-brimmed hat. I didn’t understand how Applegold could be so carefree and reckless with our elder all but rolled up in fear, turned to stone.
“Wait, sibling,” I knew enough not to say any of our names where the humans could hear, “you said not to—”
“Come buy, come buy!” Applegold drowned me out, still waving the handful of raspberries at the human girls, and pulling a big bright orange from their vest pocket. “Taste and try, sweet to tongue, sound to eye, come buy come buy.” They twirled on the spot, their tassel whipping round their legs and their curls fluttering and everything beautiful about them painfully on display.
Across the brook, golden Laura’s eyes had grown wide as peaches, her mouth open and wet. She hiked her skirt above her knees, and set one big pink foot in the cold water of the stream.
“Laura, no, no, no!” Lizzie shrieked, and jumped in after her. The water barely licked at the maidens’ calves, but they slipped and slid across slick stones until they’d reached us. Laura crouched, her wet legs and dress smelling strongly of mud and moss, her golden hair spilled over one bare shoulder, and her limpid eyes staring up at Applegold.
Lizzie stood behind her, freckled hands on her shoulders rubbing and gently pulling her away. “Laura, please, dear, come away. We shouldn’t speak to goblin men.”
They thought we were men.
“But I am a pretty goblin,” Applegold laughed, and held the raspberries under Laura’s slender nose. With a thrust of their hips they kept the tassel dancing, the knots and braids catching in the light and almost giving the impression of a speckled tail.
“Remember what happened to poor Jeanie,” Lizzie hissed, kneeling and placing her mouth close to Laura’s big pink cheek and pinker ear. Her lips quivered over the downy skin, her terrifyingly light and shallow eyes roaming across Laura’s face, her shoulders, her dimpled knees peeking forth beneath the muddy dress.
The look on Lizzie’s face was horribly familiar. I’d tasted the bitterness pulling her mouth, I could feel her heart and throat tug as if they were mine. The ache deep in her palms which only Laura’s skin could warm, the itch at the bottom of her mind where Laura’s smile and mockery kept her helplessly scratching.
I couldn’t look at her, and I definitely couldn’t look at Applegold.
I watched Laura lick her lips, nostrils quivering, breath catching. She wasn’t looking at the fruit; her eyes followed Applegold’s tassel, the lengths of russet wrist and throat, their sharp smile, their long dark eyes and soft black curls.
“I don’t have any money,” she whispered, brassy but almost gentle.
Applegold’s eyes narrowed, and I wondered if they might back away. Somehow, rejecting these maidens felt like the most dangerous course of action, and Applegold seemed to agree. They brought the raspberries even closer to Laura’s nose and mouth. The long, burnished fingers cupped like a jewel-setting around the gemstone fruit.
“Laura, please,” Lizzie moaned.
“I’ll take the gold on your head,” Applegold purred, “one lock, one berry.”
Laura’s tongue shot from her mouth, pink and sharp, spearing one of the raspberries quick as a blink. She shut her eyes as she chewed, lashes fluttering, her features smoothed like a sheet pulled tight.
Lizzie gasped as Laura sat back on her rump, her formerly white dress now gray and brown and pooled between her legs; her head rolled on her neck. Eyes flashed open, their blue all but swallowed, and in a swift motion she pulled a knife from her belt.
“Laura!”
“Sibling!” I very nearly screamed Applegold’s name.
Laura grabbed a bushel of her golden locks and sawed them off like sheaves of wheat. She tossed the hair at Applegold’s feet and with one big hand gripped their slender wrist, bringing their fruit-filled palm to her hungry mouth.
Applegold’s smile slipped, their eyes widened, and met mine for the first time since the humans had appeared. It was as if they’d suddenly realized how high they’d climbed, and felt the ground yawning below.
I didn’t know what to do. I looked over at Pinesweet, still balled up in frozen, stony horror. No help to be had there, but perhaps in the stacks of fruit behind him—I ran, filling my arms with plums and peaches and pears, anything that might distract the ravenous maiden.
“Here, try these.” I tried to move between Applegold and Laura, shoving the plums towards her, and she ate them from my hand, snuffling like Peachpeach. Juices dribbled down her chin and neck to stain the collar of her dress. They beaded in the jagged edges of her hair.
Lizzie stood back, face twisted in disgust and longing. “Laura…”
“Oh, Lizzie,” Laura squelched, “I can’t help myself!”
Applegold and I stared at each other, trapped in the maiden’s sticky embrace, her mouth and hands pulling at us even as her body shuddered. She moaned and sucked at our fingers. “Give me more, more, I beg you.”
“Leave her alone!” Lizzie screamed, and we flinched. Loath to touch us, she grabbed hold of Laura’s arm and yanked, ripping her sleeve, pulling at her hair, leaving long red scratches on her arms and shoulders. “You devils, you goblins, let my Laura go!”
I heard Applegold whimpering in fear, saw the bruising force with which Laura held them, and felt their free hand reaching for mine. Frantic, syrupy with juice and pulp.
“Let go! You can’t have her! Take this—” Lizzie threw a silver coin onto the ground, glinting in the mud. Then with a mighty shove she broke Laura’s grip on us, the two maidens tumbling over into the brook.
Applegold and I remained huddled together on the bank.
“Laura, Laura, oh, Laura!” Lizzie pulled her friend up and out of the water, dark gold streaming down her hair, red stains spreading pink. “Come back to me, my sweet!”
Laura’s eyes fluttered open, her stained mouth gasping. “Oh, Lizzie, I couldn’t stop.” She glanced over at us, eyes wide and unseeing. “Where did they go, my little goblin men?”
Lizzie looked up as well, scanning the bank as if she couldn’t see us. “They’re gone, Laura, it’s over. You’re safe.”
Applegold and I looked at each other, and realized the answer in the cold light. The sun had set, the moon had risen. We were safe.
Laura began to cry, and in one hand she held up the last, crushed, half-eaten plum, martyred fruit-flesh barely clinging to the pit. “I’ve eaten the forbidden fruit, it’ll never be over. I can’t ever untaste, unsee, unlearn—” she stared up at Lizzie, tears flowing, lips quivering. “I’ll never be clean again.”
I watched Lizzie pry the plum mash from Laura’s hand. She rubbed it on her own lips, her chin, her throat, then knelt in the moonlit water, presenting herself to Laura. “Then neither shall I. Kiss me, Laura, eat me, drink me, make much of me, I’ll be your forbidden fruit. We can be nasty, filthy goblins together.”
And they kissed as darkness fell and night flowers bloomed, and Applegold and I shivered, trying to calm our breathing.
“Can they hear us?” I whispered.
Applegold shook their head, teeth chattering. They got to their feet, dragging me along. Their eyes never strayed from Lizzie and Laura, and I watched as fear was slowly replaced by shame. And anger.
They turned to me abruptly. “You don’t look like a rat, Figrose.”
Even in the shaky coldness which was all that remained of me, I felt a burst of warmth. “Thank you, Applegold. You don’t look like a cat.”
We both turned back to Pinesweet, who had finally begun to unpetrify in the moonlight. He moved slowly, stiffly, uncurling like a fragile chrysalis. His big sad eyes blinked beneath his hat, and he reached for us with gnarled fingers. “Children. I’m so sorry, children—”
We limped towards him, turning our backs on the maidens. Applegold helped Pinesweet straighten fully, while I gathered what was left of our wares. Applegold and I pulled the cart while Pinesweet clucked for Peachpeach, and we moved along the brook, away from the maidens and their forbidden fruit. We left Lizzie’s silver coin where it belonged, in the cold mud.
By midnight we were back on the road, huddled close on the seat, alert and jumping at every sound.
“What happened to Meadowblue?” Applegold’s voice was low, as husky as always, but small.
Pinesweet flicked the reins, Peachpeach gave a gentle squeal. “Humans,” he said.
“Like that?” Applegold was sounding smaller and smaller, and I reached behind Pinesweet to gather both our tassels and hold them in Applegold’s hand with mine. They gripped tight, the tassel knots digging into our fingers and palms. I felt Applegold’s thumb move along the knots and braids just like mine did. We breathed together between knots.
“Yes,” Pinesweet sighed finally. “They use us as reflections. As doorways into new selves.”
No wonder we were taught to keep the orchard doors as far from them as possible. A shudder spurred me to my feet and—briefly letting go of Applegold’s hand—I began rummaging in the back of the cart.
“Careful, Figrose!” Pinesweet grumbled, scooting over to compensate for my weight. I managed to grab Applegold’s harp and the golden plate, handing them the first and keeping the latter so I could angle it towards them, showing them their own reflection. Brilliant and gold and beautiful even in moonlight.
“Sing,” I demanded.
Applegold looked uncertain. They plucked at the strings, still tensing in case it gave away our position to any nighttime travelers, but there were hours still till sunrise.
“Sing, child,” Pinesweet urged softly.
Applegold swallowed, and strummed, a melody less mocking than the one they’d played earlier in the day. It was sad, slow, but a rumble of anger ran through its core.
“Come take a seat with us,
Honor and eat with us,
Our feast is but beginning.
Our fruit is sin our flowers shame
Come eat your fill and lay your claim
To filth and love,
To truth and lies
To see yourself through goblin eyes.
And know we see you, too.”
Applegold reached for my hand again and I held it. They ran their fingers along my knuckles like tassel knots.
Show Notes
This quarter’s fiction episode presents "Ma’am, This is a Fruit Stand" by Maya Dworsky-Rocha, narrated and music composition and performance by Heather Rose Jones.
Links to the Lesbian Historic Motif Project Online
- Website: http://alpennia.com/lhmp
- Blog: http://alpennia.com/blog
- RSS: http://alpennia.com/blog/feed/
- Twitter: @LesbianMotif
- Discord: Contact Heather for an invitation to the Alpennia/LHMP Discord server
- The Lesbian Historic Motif Project Patreon
Links to Heather Online
- Website: http://alpennia.com
- Email: Heather Rose Jones
- Mastodon: @heatherrosejones@Wandering.Shop
- Bluesky: @heatherrosejones
- Facebook: Heather Rose Jones (author page)
Links to Maya Dworsky-Rocha Online
Major category:
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Tuesday, November 25, 2025 - 10:00
On my last UCB library visit, I borrowed this book, expecting just to skim through it and find that it was limited to male-relevant content and being surpriset to be wrong, as I note below. So I lined it up to post after the last cluster of journal articles, expecting it to be a one-off interruption in the article flow. But when I sorted through the 100+ articles I had in my to-do folder and tagged them with themes so I could find thematic clusters (because that's more fun), I found I had a solid set of articles on Asian cultures. So the next month will follow that theme.
Some of the articles are that ultimate goal: scholarly work written by someone within the culture being studied. (The down side of this is that their bibliographies are often full of intriguing articles in languages I can't read.)
I've been experimenting with different ways to organize all my different projects so that I make progress on all of them without needing to spend a lot of time re-orienting myself at every shift. My current approach--which feels like it's working well--is to spend a week at a time on each project and rotate through them. (With occasional digressions due to deadlines.) So last week I wrote up ten articles which should last me until the next project rotation, posting around two per week. This week, being disrupted by holidays and local travel (and a podcast deadline) will be something of a week off from the rotation.
Major category:
LHMPFull citation:
Stevenson, Mark & Wu Cuncun (eds. and trans.). 2013. Homoeroticism in Imperial China: A sourcebook. Routledge, New York. ISBN 978-0-415-55144-1
When I put this book on my “library shopping list” it was with a note “probably male only.” On reviewing the table of contents and introduction, I became a little more hopeful, but after a complete read-through my initial guess more or less stands. I found three items that appeared to speak in some way to female same-sex relations, and one turned out to be very marginal. There was a cross-reference to a f/f story published elsewhere in translation, and the bibliography had two listings that are worth tracking down. But it’s hardly a surprise that a collection that aims for a “balanced” selection of texts, balances against the overwhelmingly male documentary record, rather than working actively to seek out female content. In contrast to the European record where male content is more prominent because it was more stigmatized, the Chinese record is male-dominated solely because of patriarchal social and literary traditions. Even when male-male relations are considered a neutral part of the social landscape, they are more highlighted because anything men do is treated as more worthy of record.
# # #
Introduction
The book covers the imperial era of China (221 BCE to 1912 CE) plus a few earlier texts. The subject is “socially defined expressions of same-sex erotic and sexual attraction, enacted or imagined.” This is not “homosexuality” as such. Some texts may depict same-sex acts that don’t derive from erotic desire.
“Attraction” of any type could be considered socially disruptive, especially for those in power, but no significant distinction was made between the disruptive power of same- and opposite-sex attraction. Rather, these are general concerns regarding the impact of attraction/desire on social structures. It must be remembered that all same-sex desire operated within a framework of patriarchy and hierarchy. But there were “no culturally institutionalized forms of homophobia” and no cultural concept of “sexual perversion.” Indeed, certain types of same-sex activity were considered to have a positive health value. Concerns tended to revolve around undue political influence, interference with reproductive relationships and familial obligations, and relationships misaligned with age/status hierarchies.
Specific erotic interactions must be considered within the frameworks of romance, politics, pleasure, family obligations, mysticism, ritual, and play, as well as the social context of the particular relationship (arts, scholarship, military, religious organizations, sex work, court politics).
The collection is organized in five genres: histories & philosophy, poetry, drama, fiction, and miscellanies, with some of these further divided into themes. Each section has an introduction as does each individual text. In general, the authors have not provided detailed commentary on the linguistic and literary context of individual works to keep the length manageable.
The introduction concludes with a discussion of the approach to translation and of the historic context of orientalism which has affected how material of this type has been presented to a Western audience in the past.
History and Philosophy
The introduction discusses the long history of the Chinese textual tradition. Because concerns about sexuality focus on the impact on statecraft and power, almot all reference to same-sex relations in this genre concern rulers. There is no f/f material.
Poetry
The introduction discusses the early development of poetry from a ceremonial context to personal expression. There was no significant tradition of male-female courtly love poetry, although there was a tradition of poetic exchanges between men and courtesans. Ability in poetic composition was considered an essential skill for scholars and officials. Poetry might be composed for both formal and everyday occasions and male friendship was a significant theme. The section is divided into poetry collections (that is, texts passed down as collections) and the work of individual poets. There is no f/f material.
Drama
Plays often featured themes of illusion, confusion, and visibility vs invisibility. These interact with the essentially illusory nature of stage drama, including the use of single-gender acting troupes and the resulting cross-gender performance. Romantic comedy was more commonly a theme in drama than in serious literature. The first part of this section covers three plays while the second part focuses on male same-sex prostitution associated with the opera (i.e., young male sex workers playing female roles on stage). Actors also hosted “nightclub”-like gatherings which supported a (male) homoerotic culture of “flower guides” describing the attributes of the hosts.
There are two texts that have some f/f relevance. The first is a play titled A Male Queen Consort (by Wang Jide, d. 1632) which at first summary appears to include a “mistaken identity apparent f/f romance” similar to some of the male-to-female gender disguise romances in the European tradition. [Note: Compare to Margaret Cavendish’s The Convent of Pleasure or Philip Sidney’s Arcadia.] However on closer reading, although there is a brief moment of a female character being attracted to a character in female disguise, the disguise is quickly seen through an the substantial erotic interactions are all known by the participants to be m/f.
[Note: A key piece of performance background is that Chinese drama had a set of formalized “role types” that might be thought of as equivalent to operatic “voices” in terms of how the performer related to the types of roles they were expected to play. The operatic analogy is my own, not the author’s. “Dan” roles were female dramatic characters played by a male actor. Adding to the gender confusion within the text of this play itself, the primary “dan” role in this case is for a male character who then spends much of the play in female disguise. So this isn’t parallel to a Shakespearean boy-actor playing (female) Rosalind who disguises herself as (male) Ganymede who then play-acts a female romantic role to teach (male) Orlando how to court. It would be more equivalent to a boy-actor playing Sidney’s (male) Pyrocles who disguises himself as (female) Cleophila in order to court (female) Philoclea in the appearance of an Amazon. Are we confused yet?]
A boy is captured in war and, being very pretty, is given to the Prince (who prefers m/m relations) as a sex toy. The Prince tells him to dress as a woman and join his household as his concubine. The Prince is pleased enough with the boy that he elevates him to the rank of queen consort. It appears that most of the courtiers are well aware of the masquerade, as they joke about it regularly. There is an unmarried princess who is sister to the Prince. The Princess sees the Queen Consort (the boy), not knowing about the masquerade, and is attracted to her. The Princess’s ladies in waiting immediately try to disabuse her about the Queen Consort’s underlying gender, using hints and euphemisms. The Princess becomes suspicious and does some verbal fencing with the Queen Consort about her true nature, suggesting that the Queen acts in a masculine way and may not be what she seems. The Queen Consort is anxious that her performance may have not been convincing enough. The Princess, having determined to her satisfaction that the Queen Consort is actually a man, suggests they have a (heterosexual) affair because there would be no social barriers to two sisters-in-law spending private time together. The Queen Consort is somewhat hesitant, either worried about having been unmasked, or worried about the consequences of deflowering a Princess. The Princess then blackmails the Queen saying she’ll tell her brother (the Prince) that the Queen tried to seduce her if the Queen doesn't agree to the affair. At this, the Queen gives in and they make marriage vows (during which the Queen is reference with male language). One of the ladies in waiting betrays the couple to the Prince. The Prince is furious and is on the verge of having both executed but doesn’t actually want to lose either of them. So instead he approves of the marriage but orders the boy to continue presenting as female within the marriage. The play concludes pointing out how mixed up gender is throughout the play.
The second f/f item in the Drama section is a single act from a 31-act play titled The Loving Perfume Companion (Li Yu, 1611-80). The introduction notes that while depictions of m/m desire had its own conventions and language, as well as borrowing imagery from m/f relations, in this play the two women can only conceive of their relationship either in terms of aspiring to be a m/f couple or by becoming married to the same man. (The romantic possibilities are expanded by reincarnation.) The act included here details their negotiations of the logistics for their partnership, both in the present life and in future incarnations.
Two women—one newly married and one an unmarried woman still living with her parents—meet during a temple visit and fall in love. First they speak in terms of becoming “sworn sisters” and about being reborn in the future as sisters of the same parents, or similarly as brothers. But they note that these arrangements wouldn’t be romantic. They discuss other images, such as being reborn as a pair of butterflies so they could enjoy the love they are denied in the present life.
Moving on to a scenario in which they will be reborn as (destined) husband and wife, each voices her acceptance of having the lesser (female) role. They make a “marriage pledge” as a commitment to this rebirth. For the ceremony, they dress as man and woman to represent the pledge. But as they discuss the logistics, the married woman suggests instead that the younger woman marry her husband as concubine, promising that they would make no distinction of rank between them but can share a household.
They worry that the younger woman’s family would forbid her to become a concubine rather than a primary wife, so they agree that the current wife will change to being her husband’s concubine so the younger woman can marry as a wife with her parents’ approval. After the marriage they would switch roles again, but still promising to treat each other as equal. (Both, at various points, voice quiet doubts about the other carrying through on this promise of equality once she was established as official wife.) The ceremonial pledge they make includes a promise to commit suicide if the deal isn’t carried through as stated, as well as including the commitment to be husband and wife in future incarnations.
Fiction
Fiction was considered a “frivolous” genre, though it borrows form and content from more serious writing, as well as borrowing from storytelling traditions. Fiction tended to play with the themes it borrowed, offering alternate angles on the topics. Homoerotic fiction tended to parody marriage and officialdom. The popularity and content of fiction reflected larger shifts in society. One of the extracts included mentions a f/f story by the same author published elsewhere, but this section contains no f/f texts.
Miscellanies
These sources fill the same niche as European “commonplace books” being a random collection of material by the compiler, either collected or recorded from observation. Only one item has f/f relevance. The scholar Liang Shaoren (1792-?1837) has a note describing “golden orchid societies,” which I will include here in full.
The village girls of Shunde in Guangzhou often make agreements of sisterhood commonly referred to as ‘golden orchid societies’. When these girls are married they refuse to return to their husband’s house after they visit their parents. There are also some unmarried girls who wait until all the other girls in their society are married before they agree to a match. If too much pressure is put on them to marry they can end up committing suicide with their ‘sister’. Even the most capable of officials finds it impossible to eradicate this deplorable practice. There was one investigation commissioner named Li Yun, courtesy name Tieqiao, who was very familiar with this custom when he was serving as magistrate in Shunde. [He ruled that] ‘If any woman refuses to return to her husband’s house, as punishment vermillion will be painted over her father’s and brothers’ eyes and a loud gong [will call attention to them] as they send their daughter back to their husband’s house as punishment. Suicides will simply be ignored.’ The custom experienced a slight slump.
[Note: Wikipedia has a very brief article on Golden Orchid Societies and references some authors who classify these sisterhoods as potentially homoerotic, but other authors consider the primary impetus to be marriage resistance]
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Saturday, November 22, 2025 - 11:00
If I hadn't already assigned this a blog number, I would have skipped it.
Major category:
LHMPFull citation:
Kramer, Rene. 2015. That Mysterious, Remisse Knot: Katherine Philips’s Unincorporated Fraternity. Honors Thesis.
I downloaded this because I had a link to it, but in the end after reading halfway through I decided not to blog it in detail. It’s interesting and competent as an undergraduate paper, examining comparative imagery in the work of Katherine Philips and near-contemporaries especially John Donne. But the paper didn’t seem to have anything genuinely new in terms of the historic record.
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Thursday, November 20, 2025 - 14:00
There are some historic figures where I’m almost at the point of saying, “I know there are a lot more publications about this person and their work that I haven’t read yet, but I’m not sure they’ll add value to the Project beyond what I already have.” Which isn’t to say that they might not be “better” in some absolute sense than material I’ve already covered. It’s a conundrum. Katherine Philips is on that list. (Heck—Sappho is on the list.) But I’m not quite yet at the point of moving those articles to the end of the priority list.
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LHMPFull citation:
Andreadis, Harriette. 2006. “Re-Configuring Early Modern Friendship: Katherine Philips and Homoerotic Desire.” Studies in English Literature, 1500-1900, vol. 46, no. 3, pp. 523–42.
Andreadis opens by providing evidence that in the 17th century, people were quite capable of envisioning same-sex marriage as a concept, even if only in counter-factual situations. Popular opinion tended to divide female homoeroticism into two populations: those perceived as deviant and assigned labels like tribade, confricatrix, rubster, or tommy, and those who conformed to social expectations while expressing erotically-charged sentiments but left no trace of related sexual activity. The latter group includes prominent writers such as Katherine Philips, Aphra Behn, and Delariviere Manley. Historians have recently [note: from the point of view of the turn of the millennium] started seeing them as precursors of an emerging sapphic category, based on a reconsideration of how female friendship was treated in their writings.
In the 17th century, women were claiming space in the traditionally-male discourse of friendship, which was infused with the language and motifs of “union” in the sense of marriage. This is particularly apparent in Philips’ writings, where the concept of a marriage-like union is a constant thread in expressing her passionate attachment to female friends. As part of her work to elevate female friendship, Philips reached out to male philosophers for their opinion on the topic. (Male-authored) friendship literature at that point was rather firm on the position that women were constitutionally incapable of true friendship, and Philips’ efforts returned only the weak admission from Jeremy Taylor that a woman might be capable of being a second-class friend to a man, but that true friendship between women was not in the question.
Friendship literature embraced the idea of a union or marriage of two souls as an essential component. From this, Andreadis suggests that Philips’ use of union/marriage imagery to describe her female friendships was a borrowing of discourse from male friendships. At the same time, for both men and women, the use of this imagery raised the specter of crossing the line into a more transgressive category of forbidden erotics. Philips regularly suggests that the expression of female friendships has a “secret” component that is not to be witnessed by “rude spectators.” This, perhaps, protects the exuberant eroticism of her language from misinterpretation (or correct interpretation?).
In addition to the overt use of “union” language, Philips evokes other marriage-related imagery, such as joint burial of the couple. And her (sequential) passionate friendships were acknowledged by her inner circle by techniques such as joining their (pseudonymous) names in a single expression, such as “Lucasia-Orinda.”
Philips’ (male) correspondents on friendship philosophy had difficulty identifying the point at which friendship might slide into forbidden passions, but hinted to her to beware of it.
The article then moves into an extensive and detailed consideration of Philips’ correspondence and interactions with Sir Charles Cotterell whom she is trying to push as a suitor for her intimate friend Anne Owen. As Cotterell was a long-time friend and literary mentor, Andreadis suggests that these maneuverings were intended to set him up as a proxy for Philips herself as a way to create a familial-like bond with her beloved. These efforts eventually failed and resulted in Philips’ conclusion that “the marriage of a friend [is] the funeral of a friendship,” though it isn’t as clear that she would have considered marriage to Cotterell to have the same effect. Marriage had regularly been the disruptor to Philips’ intimate female friendships in a way that marriage rarely had the power to disrupt friendships between men, though she doesn’t seem to have made this connection directly.
When selections of Philips’ correspondence (with men) were published posthumously, they were presented as examples of the validity of male-female friendship and as support for how Philips exemplified appropriate ways for women to establish a social and literary reputation while maintaining a virtuous reputation. But the public nature of her friendships with men—in line with how male-male friendships were expected to be performed—stands in contrast to the more private ways she performed her friendships with women. This was an era when these public friendships functioned as a second layer of social network, analogous to but separate from familial bonds. Philips’ interactions with Cotterell partake of this flavor, but at the same time retains an inequity of power more similar to that of a woman to a paterfamilias, in which she coaxes and persuades rather than acting as an equal partner.
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Monday, November 17, 2025 - 11:00
It's probably a tribute to how many articles on Early Modern cross-dressing I’ve blogged that this one doesn’t seem to have said anything I find new. Which is perhaps unfair to the article, but it means these notes are going to skim a lot.
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LHMPFull citation:
Howard, Jean E. 1988. “Cross-Dressing, the Theatre and Gender Struggle in Early Modern England” in Shakespeare Quarterly 39: 418-40. (Also appears in: Howard, Jean E. 1993. “Cross-Dressing, the Theater, and Gender Struggle in Early Modern England” in Crossing the Stage: Controversies in Cross-Dressing, ed. Ferris, Leslie. Routledge, London.)
The articles looks at the phenomenon of crossdressing in England contrasting several angles: polemical literature condemning it, legal records punishing it, and cultural practices (such as theater) normalizing it, as well as some of the socio-economic background that made cross-dressing a flashpoint at this time. [Note: Although this article doesn’t address the point, I’ll remind readers that when polemics such as Stubbes and Hic Mulier talk about cross-dressing, they are often referring to specific individual garments or styles, not about an entire cross-gender wardrobe.) Although the article discusses both male and female cross-dressing, I’ll be focusing on the latter.
Female cross-dressing could simultaneously challenge and support patriarchal structures, depending on audience. But there was an overall theme—not only in literary depictions, but in legal treatment—that associated female crossdressing with sexual transgression and unruliness. It wasn’t so much that women claimed masculine rights to sexual license by crossdressing as that any challenge to the rules governing female behavior was felt to signal a lack of any restraint, and a lack of sexual restraint was a particularly salient example.
Another aspect was the blurring of social boundaries. Just as violations of class-based clothing expectations blurred the boundary between the aristocracy and the rising wealthy middle class, violations of gendered clothing expectations were felt to destroy the distinction of gender. Regardless of any practical consequences of these violations, there was a general social anxiety about the loss of order and structure. (The article notes “tensions between a social order based on hierarchy and deference and one increasingly based on entrepreneurship”—a tension that played out repeatedly across the centuries in various ways.
The article notes the interaction of conventional gender signals with medicalized theories of sex and gender. If distinctions of sex were divinely ordained and immutable, how was it possible for clothing to challenge them? There’s a discussion of the one-sex versus two-sex model and how—regardless of medical theory—legal and social attitudes were clearly founded on the idea of two distinct sexes, not on the gender continuum of the one-sex model. But conversely, if the two-sex model were true, why would it need to be continually reinforced?
Crossdressing men “dressed down” and raised the specter of homosexuality (becoming women), but crossdressing women “dressed up” and raised the specter of being out of (male) control. Fears of female sexual incontinence were primarily heterosexual, not homosexual.
The Hic Mulier tract specifically connects female crossdressing with other “world turned upside down” possibilities like government by “the untamed Moore, the naked Indian, or the wilde Irish,” bringing in religious, racial, and ethnic prejudices alongside misogyny.
Around 1600, both formal and informal punishments for gender transgressions became more frequent than before and after. But these anxieties were provoked, in part, by very real increases in female freedom and economic power during the era. Increases in female literacy and access to printed texts increased exposure both to moralistic literature and to broader understandings of the world. Women, as well as men, were theater-goers, being exposed to the ways the stage played with and transformed gender relations.
The article moves on to a close reading of The Roaring Girl, the play that most pushes the boundaries of crossdressing and gender as a central part of the plot, as compared to the play Epicoene, which uses gender disguise for satire and mockery. Shakespeare’s three main crossdressing plots are also discussed, in which crossdressing, rather than challenging gender roles, ends up reinforcing them, even when women are depicted as being able to successfully inhabit a male role.
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Saturday, November 15, 2025 - 07:00
Lesbian Historic Motif Podcast - Episode 328 – Christina Rosetti’s “The Goblin Market” (reprised) - transcript
(Originally aired 2025/11/1)
At the end of this month, the fiction episode is a story that offers an interesting re-imagining of 19th century poet Christina Rosetti’s poem “The Goblin Market.” Because I already have a podcast presenting and analyzing the poem, and because I think familiarity with the poem will significantly enhance enjoyment of the upcoming story, I thought it was a good opportunity to reprise that episode. I also hope to have a discussion with the author in next month’s On the Shelf episode. I’ve edited the beginning of the original version slightly to remove some outdated material, but otherwise the following repeats the show that aired back in 2016.
Rosetti was part of a talented family of Italian immigrants to England in the mid 19th century. Her father was a painter, but the more famous painter in the family was her brother Dante Gabriel Rossetti, who was one of the founders of the Pre-Rafaelite Brotherhood, a movement known for medievalism and sensuality. Another brother and a sister were writers. And Christina’s mother, Frances Polidori, was the sister of John Polidori, a close friend of Lord Byron and the author of what may be the first modern vampire story. (You see, lots of Halloween references.)
The Goblin Market indulges in a number of long flights of description. But before reveling in the beauty of the language, I want to focus specifically on the erotic imagery. So I’ll start by alternating excerpts from the poem with a synopsis of the overall story.
Two sisters, cautious Lizzie and daring Laura, encounter the goblin men who sell mysteriously tempting fruits.
Morning and evening
Maids heard the goblins cry:
“Come buy our orchard fruits,
Come buy, come buy:
There is a long catalog of the fruits they sell, and then we meet the sisters:
Evening by evening
Among the brookside rushes,
Laura bow’d her head to hear,
Lizzie veil’d her blushes:
Crouching close together
In the cooling weather,
With clasping arms and cautioning lips,
With tingling cheeks and finger tips.
“Lie close,” Laura said,
Pricking up her golden head:
“We must not look at goblin men,
We must not buy their fruits:
Who knows upon what soil they fed
Their hungry thirsty roots?”
“Come buy,” call the goblins
Hobbling down the glen.
Lizzie warns her sister not to take the goblins up on their offered wares and continues on home, but...
Laura stretch’d her gleaming neck
Like a rush-imbedded swan,
Like a lily from the beck,
Like a moonlit poplar branch,
Like a vessel at the launch
When its last restraint is gone.
Definitely a description of someone giving in to temptation! Laura doesn’t have a coin to buy the fruit so instead they demand a lock of her golden hair in payment. Hair had a strong sexual symbolism in the Victorian era, and for a girl to give a man a lock of her hair was practically the next thing to handing him her virginity.
She clipp’d a precious golden lock,
She dropp’d a tear more rare than pearl,
Then suck’d their fruit globes fair or red:
Sweeter than honey from the rock,
Stronger than man-rejoicing wine,
Clearer than water flow’d that juice;
She never tasted such before,
How should it cloy with length of use?
She suck’d and suck’d and suck’d the more
Fruits which that unknown orchard bore;
She suck’d until her lips were sore;
Then flung the emptied rinds away
Lizzie scolds her when she gets home, and reminds her of the cautionary tale of their friend Jeanie:
Do you not remember Jeanie,
How she met them in the moonlight,
Took their gifts both choice and many,
Ate their fruits and wore their flowers
Pluck’d from bowers
Where summer ripens at all hours?
But ever in the noonlight
She pined and pined away;
Sought them by night and day,
Found them no more, but dwindled and grew grey;
This is foreshadowing Laura’s fate. Even as she scoffs at Lizzie’s warning, she says:
I ate and ate my fill,
Yet my mouth waters still;
To-morrow night I will
Buy more;” and kiss’d her:
“Have done with sorrow;
I’ll bring you plums to-morrow
Laura describes for Lizzie all the delicious goblin fruits she’ll bring back to share, and then they go to bed together.
Golden head by golden head,
Like two pigeons in one nest
Folded in each other’s wings,
They lay down in their curtain’d bed:
Like two blossoms on one stem,
Like two flakes of new-fall’n snow,
Like two wands of ivory
Tipp’d with gold for awful kings.
Moon and stars gaz’d in at them,
Wind sang to them lullaby,
Lumbering owls forbore to fly,
Not a bat flapp’d to and fro
Round their rest:
Cheek to cheek and breast to breast
Lock’d together in one nest.
The next day they go about their usual chores, but Laura’s mind is elsewhere. And as they walk home in the evening, she listens for the calls of the goblins in vain. Lizzie can still hear the goblins, which day by day drives Laura to distraction.
So crept to bed, and lay
Silent till Lizzie slept;
Then sat up in a passionate yearning,
And gnash’d her teeth for baulk’d desire, and wept
As if her heart would break.
Laura begins to pine and waste away, just like Jeanie did. Her golden hair grows dull and thin, her spirit fades, she has “sunken eyes and faded mouth”. She stops eating and sits listlessly in a corner.
Lizzie watches her sister decline and decides the only option is to go buy goblin fruit to revive her, even though Lizzie is afraid of what price she might pay.
Till Laura dwindling
Seem’d knocking at Death’s door:
Then Lizzie weigh’d no more
Better and worse;
But put a silver penny in her purse,
Kiss’d Laura, cross’d the heath with clumps of furze
At twilight, halted by the brook:
And for the first time in her life
Began to listen and look.
The goblins come to meet her and not only offer her fruit but harass her physically:
Hugg’d her and kiss’d her:
Squeez’d and caress’d her:
Stretch’d up their dishes,
Panniers, and plates:
“Look at our apples
Russet and dun,
Bob at our cherries,
Bite at our peaches,
Lizzie tosses them her silver coin and holds out her apron for the fruit, but the goblins keep urging her to eat them, right there and then. When she steadfastly refuses, they turn nasty. It’s a bit reminiscent of street harassers when rebuffed. And the goblins try to force Lizzie to consume the fruit in a scene that feels a lot like sexual assault.
One call’d her proud,
Cross-grain’d, uncivil;
Their tones wax’d loud,
Their looks were evil.
Lashing their tails
They trod and hustled her,
Elbow’d and jostled her,
Claw’d with their nails,
Barking, mewing, hissing, mocking,
Tore her gown and soil’d her stocking,
Twitch’d her hair out by the roots,
Stamp’d upon her tender feet
Held her hands and squeez’d their fruits
Against her mouth to make her eat.
Lizzie holds steadfast against this assault and is described as a citadel being unsuccessfully besieged.
One may lead a horse to water,
Twenty cannot make him drink.
Though the goblins cuff’d and caught her,
Coax’d and fought her,
Bullied and besought her,
Scratch’d her, pinch’d her black as ink,
Kick’d and knock’d her,
Maul’d and mock’d her,
Lizzie utter’d not a word;
Would not open lip from lip
Lest they should cram a mouthful in:
But laugh’d in heart to feel the drip
Of juice that syrupp’d all her face,
And lodg’d in dimples of her chin,
And streak’d her neck which quaked like curd.
Having successfully resisted eating the fruit, Lizzie hurries homeward because, of course, she does have goblin fruit to bring home to Laura--the fruit that the goblins have smeared all over her while trying to make her eat.
She cried, “Laura,” up the garden,
“Did you miss me?
Come and kiss me.
Never mind my bruises,
Hug me, kiss me, suck my juices
Squeez’d from goblin fruits for you,
Goblin pulp and goblin dew.
Eat me, drink me, love me;
Laura, make much of me;
For your sake I have braved the glen
And had to do with goblin merchant men.”
Somewhat belatedly, Laura realizes that Lizzie might end up sharing her fate for trying to save her.
Laura started from her chair,
Flung her arms up in the air,
Clutch’d her hair:
“Lizzie, Lizzie, have you tasted
For my sake the fruit forbidden?
And then, not from the addictive hunger for goblin fruit, but in gratitude and fear:
She clung about her sister,
Kiss’d and kiss’d and kiss’d her:
Tears once again
Refresh’d her shrunken eyes,
Dropping like rain
After long sultry drouth;
Shaking with aguish fear, and pain,
She kiss’d and kiss’d her with a hungry mouth.
Laura kisses Lizzie and in the process consumes the juice of the goblin fruits. But that juice has been transformed by Lizzie’s selfless deed.
Her lips began to scorch,
That juice was wormwood to her tongue,
She loath’d the feast:
Writhing as one possess’d she leap’d and sung,
Rent all her robe, and wrung
Her hands in lamentable haste,
And beat her breast.
The fruit burns within her and Laura falls into a swoon. All through the night, Lizzie tends to Laura as if she were in a fever, but when morning comes:
Laura awoke as from a dream,
Laugh’d in the innocent old way,
Hugg’d Lizzie but not twice or thrice;
Her gleaming locks show’d not one thread of grey,
Her breath was sweet as May
And light danced in her eyes.
The poem ends with Lizzie telling the frightening cautionary tale to the next generation. A tale appropriate for a Halloween night.
Laura would call the little ones
And tell them of her early prime,
Those pleasant days long gone
Of not-returning time:
Would talk about the haunted glen,
The wicked, quaint fruit-merchant men,
Their fruits like honey to the throat
But poison in the blood;
(Men sell not such in any town):
Would tell them how her sister stood
In deadly peril to do her good,
And win the fiery antidote:
Thus, the fruit-inspired sensuality has been left behind, as in a fever dream. The sisters have settled down to live conventional lives. What remains is the memory of the deep devotion that risks its life for the beloved.
Despite the rather striking homoerotic imagery in her poem, there is no evidence that Rossetti’s relationships with women went beyond sisterly devotion. On the other hand, she received three proposals of marriage from men and rejected them all so who knows? But my interest here isn’t on Rossetti’s personal life, rather on the strongly sensual imagery in her poem, depicting an intense devotion between two sisters that is expressed in language more suited to lovers.
The Goblin Market’s sensuality--not only the intense kissing and the more subdued scenes of cuddling in bed or “clasping arms and tingling finger tips”--occurs not only in the context of sisterly devotion, but also in scenes where the goblins tempt the women with their sinister fruit, or even try to force it on them. There isn’t a clear correspondence of the sensual with the forbidden.
This was an era when the trope of decadent lesbian sensuality tinged with the supernatural was becoming “a thing”, though primarily among male writers. Samuel Taylor Coleridge’s “Christabel” is a long supernatural-themed poem with lesbian elements that were strong enough to get it condemned as obscene. The content falls in the “monstrous seductress” genre where the noble maiden Christabel encounters the mysterious Geraldine in the forest and brings her home to her father’s castle where Geraldine has a strange and sinister influence on all she encounters. Christabel shares her bed with Geraldine and the significance of this is emphasized with descriptions of disrobing and embraces.
Beneath the lamp the lady bowed,
And slowly rolled her eyes around;
Then drawing in her breath aloud,
Like one that shuddered, she unbound
The cincture from beneath her breast:
Her silken robe, and inner vest,
Dropt to her feet, and full in view,
Behold! her bosom and half her side—
A sight to dream of, not to tell!
O shield her! shield sweet Christabel!
Yet Geraldine nor speaks nor stirs;
Ah! what a stricken look was hers!
Deep from within she seems half-way
To lift some weight with sick assay,
And eyes the maid and seeks delay;
Then suddenly, as one defied,
Collects herself in scorn and pride,
And lay down by the Maiden's side!—
And in her arms the maid she took,
But Geraldine’s eventual goal is not to win Christabel but to supplant her in her father’s affections. The poem shares with the Goblin Market a supernatural force that causes the innocent woman to waste away. But here there is no sister to save her.
The same process of wasting away by the influence of a supernatural intruder who feigns same-sex affection occurs in Sheridan LeFanu’s vampire novel Carmilla. Carmilla appears at the residence of the protagonist in the guise of a young woman, said to be something of an invalid. Despite Carmilla telling little of her background, the two girls become close.
She used to place her pretty arms about my neck, draw me to her, and laying her cheek to mine, murmur with her lips near my ear, "Dearest, your little heart is wounded; think me not cruel because I obey the irresistible law of my strength and weakness; if your dear heart is wounded, my wild heart bleeds with yours. In the rapture of my enormous humiliation I live in your warm life, and you shall die--die, sweetly die--into mine. I cannot help it; as I draw near to you, you, in your turn, will draw near to others, and learn the rapture of that cruelty, which yet is love; so, for a while, seek to know no more of me and mine, but trust me with all your loving spirit."
And when she had spoken such a rhapsody, she would press me more closely in her trembling embrace, and her lips in soft kisses gently glow upon my cheek.
...
In these mysterious moods I did not like her. I experienced a strange tumultuous excitement that was pleasurable, ever and anon, mingled with a vague sense of fear and disgust. I had no distinct thoughts about her while such scenes lasted, but I was conscious of a love growing into adoration, and also of abhorrence. This I know is paradox, but I can make no other attempt to explain the feeling.
...
Sometimes after an hour of apathy, my strange and beautiful companion would take my hand and hold it with a fond pressure, renewed again and again; blushing softly, gazing in my face with languid and burning eyes, and breathing so fast that her dress rose and fell with the tumultuous respiration. It was like the ardor of a lover; it embarrassed me; it was hateful and yet over-powering; and with gloating eyes she drew me to her, and her hot lips traveled along my cheek in kisses; and she would whisper, almost in sobs, "You are mine, you shall be mine, you and I are one for ever." Then she had thrown herself back in her chair, with her small hands over her eyes, leaving me trembling.
Other works from the mid 19th century that carry this association of sensuality between women tinged with a mysterious and malevolent decadence include Honoré de Balzac’s The Girl with the Golden Eyes, and Théophile Gautier’s Mademoiselle de Maupin. All these works have two things in common that contrast with The Goblin Market: they are written by men, and the sensual relationship shown between the women is destructive and a source of guilt rather than being a source of redemption.
Christina Rossetti’s work comes out of an entirely different tradition: that of Romantic Friendship, where close emotional relationships between women were idealized and valorized. Such relationships were not considered to partake of sexuality--though we know that in some cases they did. Within the Romantic Friendship tradition, descriptions of sisters cuddling together in bed or kissing passionately would not have been considered sexual, as such, and so could be portrayed without any sense of self-consciousness or guilt.
The Goblin Market is easily interpreted as an allegory--though an allegory for what is debatable. A Christian interpretation is certainly possible, with its themes of temptation, of a fall, and of redemption through an innocent person’s suffering on behalf of another. It’s also possible to see it as an allegory for drug addiction, and it’s thought that that part of the poem may have been inspired by Rossetti’s work at a charity house for former prostitutes--a context where she may have seen the effects of addiction to drugs or alcohol. Alternately, it can be viewed as an allegory of predatory male sexuality and sexual trauma. It’s worth noting that the goblins are referred to consistently as male and no other male characters figure in the poem.
Given all these considerations, interpreting the sensual imagery and passionate embraces of the poem as depicting lesbian eroticism is not entirely unproblematic. These complexities are always present when modern readers try to find connections with literature from another era.
And now, an entertainment for the night of Halloween, when pathways open up between the worlds, and someone who lingers on the path at twilight may hear goblins calling out, “Come buy, come buy.”
The Goblin Market, by Christina Rossetti, published in 1862 and read by Heather Rose Jones
[The text of the poem has not been included in this transcript. It can be found in many places on the web, including the following page belonging to the Poetry Foundation: https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/44996/goblin-market]
Show Notes
This is an analysis and recitation of the poem “The Goblin Market” by Christina Rossetti, with special attention to its homoerotic themes.
Links to the Lesbian Historic Motif Project Online
- Website: http://alpennia.com/lhmp
- Blog: http://alpennia.com/blog
- RSS: http://alpennia.com/blog/feed/
- Twitter: @LesbianMotif
- Discord: Contact Heather for an invitation to the Alpennia/LHMP Discord server
- The Lesbian Historic Motif Project Patreon
Links to Heather Online
- Website: http://alpennia.com
- Email: Heather Rose Jones
- Mastodon: @heatherrosejones@Wandering.Shop
- Bluesky: @heatherrosejones
- Facebook: Heather Rose Jones (author page)
Major category:
LHMPFriday, November 14, 2025 - 09:00
Back when I was collecting material for a trope podcast about the theater, I added a number of articles to my shopping list that I didn't get to at the time. This (and the next) are leftovers from that list. There isn't substantially new material here for me, but the author offers more background for gender-crossing in a theatrical context in general.
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LHMPFull citation:
Friedman-Rommell, Beth. 1995. “Breaking the Code: Towards a Reception Theory of Theatrical Cross-Dressing in Eighteenth-Century London” in Theatre Journal 47, no.4: 459-79.
The focus of this article is how 18th century English audiences perceived and experienced cross-dressing on stage. A large part of the article involves a detailed dissection of the 1713 play The Humours of the Army; or, The Female Officer, by Charles Shadwell. A major theme is the interplay not only between female performers taking on male roles (and its implications off stage), but characters who—within the scope of the performance—perform cross-gender roles. Another aspect of the analysis is a comparison of male versus female stage cross-dressing. There is a focus on the potential variability in reception, depending on context and individual background.
The article spends a while presenting and discussing the shift in understanding of sex/gender between the “one-sex” system (women are imperfect men) and the “two-sex” system (women and men are different species), while noting that both models were prevalent in the 18th century, offering different understandings of the “meaning” of gender-crossing.
There is a discussion of how lesbian possibilities have largely been overlooked in this field, while reviewing the evidence that such possibilities existed in the 18th century. But concerns about women cross-dressing were largely focused on her rejection of a normative domestic role, not the possibility of her embracing something entirely different.
A taxonomy of female cross-dressing contexts is offered, distinguishing between roles in which a woman cross-dresses specifically to pursue (or avenge) an existing heterosexual relationship, versus situations in which the actress cross-dresses for a purpose not related to the role, such as to use or show off specific performance skills, or to provide titillation to the audience.
In contrast to earlier theatrical conventions around cross-dressing, 18th century male cross-dressing on stage was primarily for comic effect, presenting a parody of femininity. In contrast, when female cross-dressing was done for comic effect it was to emphasize female inadequacy, not to parody men. But female cross-dressing was used for other purposes, and prominent actresses who took breeches parts were often lauded as performing the roles better than a man would. This offered more options for audience identification (especially for the female audience).
There is a digression into connections and distinctions between the stage and the cross-dressing done as part of public masquerades. (See Castle 1983)
The remainder of the article is the detailed analysis of The Humours of the Army which involves a woman cross-dressing to join the army in order to take revenge on the lover who (she believes) jilted her, which in the end follows a standard marriage plot with them getting back together.
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Tuesday, November 11, 2025 - 12:57
Most years, I aspire (but often don't manage) to have at least one item that would hypothetically be eligible for award nominations of some sort. My collection Skin-Singer is this year's publication, of which the novelette "Hide-bound" is the only previously unpublished work. (I have submitted the collection for consideration for the Golden Crown awards, as it has a category for collections or anthologies.)
"Hide-bound" is a fantasy novelette and thus could be nominated, e.g., for the relevant Hugo Award or Nebula Award categories, if readers considered it worthy.
I'm aware that these days works in the short story and novelette range are far more likely to be nominated if they are available for free online in some fashion. I will be making it available to SFWA members in the relevant forum for Nebula consideration. But since the story is (in theory) the main driver for enticing people to buy the collection, I don't see my way to making it freely available to the general public at this time. On the other hand, the ebook of the collection is only $2.99. You can't even get a coffee for that.
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Skin-Singer: Tales of the KaltaovenMonday, November 10, 2025 - 14:00
This post launches a mini-grouping of articles on theatrical cross-dressing, whether at public masquerades or on stage. While reading this article I kept thinking about the use of masquerades as a dangerous liminal space in the historic romances of Georgette Heyer. Her examples sometimes post-date the masquerade era identified in this article and align solidly with the cautionary fiction of the 18th century that saw them as Not The Thing. But for a story solidly set in the early/mid 18th century, it's easy to see the possibilities of a masquerade setting for sapphic encounters.
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Castle, T. 1983-4. “Eros and Liberty at the English Masquerade, 1710-90” in Eighteenth-Century Studies, XVII, 2: 156-76.
This article looks at the culture of public masquerade entertainments in 18th century England (primarily London), especially in how they promoted and supported an atmosphere of sexual liberty. This reputation of masquerades is solidly documented in social commentary and fiction of the time, such as the works of Pope, Hogarth, Fielding, and others.
Public masquerades were open to anyone who paid the entrance fee and thus were attended by people of a wide variety of social classes. This, combined with the effects of costume and masks to conceal the identity (including concealing the gender) of the attendees made them an ideal setting for assignations, casual hook-ups, and comedies of errors. Popular costumes included historic dress, “exotic” foreign costume, especially Turkish outfits, religious costumes, outfits depicting various working-class occupations, and theatrical characters such as Harlequin. In addition to dancing, gaming, and social mingling, they offered food and drink. They were typically held at night, in an elaborately decorated space, and lasted until morning.
Masquerades were the targets of moralistic pamphlets, as well as the cautionary writings of advice manuals and popular fiction. Like many “vices” they were attacked as being a foreign import, echoing the famous carnivals of Mediterranean regions. Both their threat and their appeal derived from a sort of “institutionalized disorder” in which social norms and barriers were cast aside and social hierarchies of class and gender could be inverted.
Within the sexual realm, masquerades offered the opportunity not only for cross-dressing, but for engaging in non-normative liaisons under the fiction displayed by the costumes. At the same time, the theatrical and performative nature of the events provided cover and excuse for sexual liberties. Anti-masquerade literature hinted obliquely at the presence of (male) homosexual encounters, alongside heterosexual liaisons.
Public masquerades were inspired by several roots—Continental carnival traditions, as well as local English festival traditions. [Note: The article doesn’t directly discuss the tradition of court masques as an inspiration for the use of character costumes, but I have to think it was another strand.] They became popular in the 1710s, initially sponsored in private venues by socially prominent figures, but then as more commercial productions in public venues also used for dramatic performance. In the 1720s and 1730s, the weekly masquerades held at the Haymarket had attendance between 700-1000 people.
There was a brief dip in the fashion in mid-century, then a return to popularity in the 1760s and 1770s. In addition to the regular ticketed masquerades, even larger outdoor events were sometimes held for special occasions. After the 1780s, the popularity of masquerades began to wane with a general shift to social conservatism in the wake of the French Revolution, although occasional ones were held during the Regency era. But by the early 19th century, the public masked assembly had functionally disappeared as an institution. (Though private masked/costumed events continued to be part of English society.)
For women, the masquerade offered both opportunity and danger. Anonymity and the conventions of the event gave women the freedom to mingle and to initiate interactions with strangers. This freedom was also available regardless of rank, and anti-masquerade literature railed against the social leveling as well as the licentiousness. The crowds could also include thieves, card sharps, highwaymen, and sex workers, all taking advantage of both the anonymity and distracted targets. But in particular, women had a freedom unavailable in their ordinary lives to attend as free agents, without chaperones or concern for their reputations as long as they remained masked. (Though conversely, a woman known to attend masquerades was assumed to have damaged her reputation, regardless of her actual actions.) This was a key factor in criticism of masquerades. In an era when “good” women were expected not to make a spectacle of themselves, masquerades were all about becoming part of the spectacle. Masquerade costumes could be extremely revealing (for both women and men). And both women and men regularly took on cross-gender costumes.
The hazards were just as real as the benefits. Aside from the usual hazards of unsanctioned sexual liaisons for women, masquerade anonymity (and the assumption that you knew what you were getting into) offered little redress in cases of sexual assault or abduction, or even simply the consequences of mistaken identity.
The article discusses references to homosexual encounters at masquerades, but if one can read through the euphemistic language, the concern was for male homosexuality (this was also the era in which “molly clubs” emerged, also featuring cross-dressing). Concerns about cross-dressing women are generally framed as being about rebellion against “women’s place,” although Henry Fielding’s anti-masquerade writings can also be linked to his work The Female Husband, in which female cross-dressing leads to sex between women.
The article speculates on the extent to which the experience of cross-gender exploration at masquerades might have contributed to the feminist movement of the later 18th century, as well as to what extent reactions against masquerade licentiousness provoked the reactionary turn to repressive gender roles in the 19th century.
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Thursday, November 6, 2025 - 08:00
As I mentioned in the intro to the previous post, trying to interpolate the historic realities of f/f desire in the classical era is extremely difficult. Ovid's Iphis and Ianthe is multiply distanced from the internal reality of his characters. He is a man discussing f/f desire (in a context where men were not culturally expected to have any interest in the interiority of female desire), he sets his characters in a mythic past, and he places them in a Greek setting while he himself was a product of Imperial Rome. All of this might lead us to discount the opinions and positions taken by his characters in relation to any actual historic culture (his or his characters'). And yet, even though the overt theme of the work is "f/f love is impossible," the story if full of evidence contradicting that claim. Perhaps we should instead read the moral of the story as "f/f love is not officially recognized by society," in which case it might have something useful to tell us.
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Walker, J. 2006. “Before the Name: Ovid’s Deformulated Lesbianism” in Comparative Literature 58.3, pp.205-222.
The basic theme of this article is how, even as the overt message of Ovid’s Iphis and Ianthe denies the possibility or imaginability of female same-sex love, the way in which it does so creates and reinforces that possibility in the audience’s reception. The article starts with a detailed synopsis (for which you could see my podcast on the topic). Then there is a review of studies of Roman attitudes towards female same-sex erotics that consistently try to displace it from contemporary reality. (See, e.g., Hallett 1997)
The article then moves on to presenting the argument that Ovid “formulates the thought of the possibility of lesbianism” even as the text continually proclaims its impossibility. But the textual claim of “impossibility” is not a simple reflection of the author’s position (or that of his society) but rather attempts to dictate what counts as culturally legible by claiming ignorance of the very thing that is being described. The general topic here is how to examine “active ignorance” in historic texts. Walker cautions that the standard “magical sex-change” ending of this genre of story shouldn’t be given too much weight in terms of what the audience could envision, as it is dictated by social rules about what type of outcome is recognizable. [Note: compare to how lesbian pulp novels of the 1950s were required to have a “tragic” ending, regardless of how that diverged from the lived experience of their lesbian readership.]
Overall, this article is very theory-heavy, but has some interesting things to say about the interplay of “natural” versus “cultural” rules within Iphis’s internal debate. There is also a discussion of the ways in which f/f desire had no structural place within Roman sexual hierarchies and rules, except to the extent that one member of the could “become male” either physically or behaviorally. At the same time, the text undermines the notion of how gender is determined, by emphasizing the initial similarity between Iphis and Ianthe (despite Iphis being read as male by those around her), but then noting how the “magical sex-change” is not simply the attachment of a penis, but the appearance of a whole menu of masculine attributes and behaviors, whose previous absence somehow failed to raise suspicion about Iphis’s pre-metamorphosis status. Furthermore, the story focuses intensely on female-female bonds and relationships (Iphis and her mother, both of them and the goddess Isis, Iphis and Ianthe) and the depiction, discussion, and experience of love and desire between Iphis and Ianthe is entirely restricted to the time when Iphis is physically female, with only the marriage and consummation briefly presented after the transformation. Thus the content of the tale argues continuously in contradiction to the official message of impossibility.
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