


In his novel The Princess and the Goblin, George MacDonald has cleverly crafted an underground society populated by a distorted and "ludicrously grotesque" race. Within the body of his tale, he reveals that these people are descended from humans, and did in fact, once upon a time, live upon the surface themselves. Only eons of living separated from fresh air and sunlight have caused them to evolve into the misshapen creatures we meet in this story (MacDonald, 2-4). MacDonald calls the beings goblins, and while they certainly may fit that definition from a 19th century point of view, they are far more akin to the dwarves that we have come to know from classic stories like Tolkien's Lord of the Rings and popular games like "Dungeons & Dragons," as well as countless movies, cartoons and video games. Still, it is clear that MacDonald had a considerable knowledge of folklore and mythology and that he drew upon that background to help evoke and manifest a convincing culture of underground dwellers, or little folk.
There seems to be little agreement, at least in a modern world of mass communication, of what exactly a goblin is. The origin of the word appears to come from the medieval French town of Evreux, which claims to have been haunted by a demon named Gobelinus (who may or may not have been, at one point, an actual living person). From there the term evolved to refer to any small spirit or creature who (unlike modern interpretations of the word) may be either good or bad, but is almost certainly mischievous (Wiseley). Dwarves, on the other hand, are also small creatures, but the popular connotation is one of a generally amiable and hard-working being who lives underground building mines. MacDonald's creations fall somewhere in between these descriptions, but they probably lay closer to the latter.
Scandinavia and Germany are the primary homes to the legends that inspired both MacDonald and many other writers both before and since. The Scandinavians spoke of the land that the dwarves hailed from, calling it Svartalfheim. This land of "dark elves" was described as a dark, cold realm of caverns, sounding convincingly like the twisting, black underground tunnels which Curdie is forced to blindly explore. An alternative to this hidden land was Nifleheim, a land of the dead that could also easily pass for MacDonald's subterranean labyrinth (Mott). The entrances to these kingdoms were typically obscure, tucked away into some remote mountainside, or even below a body of water. MacDonald also borrows this trait, sending Irene scrambling up the side of a "rough bare mountain" only to discover a stream bubbling forth from a hole in the hillside: the entrance to the home of the goblins (MacDonald, 153).
MacDonald gives his goblins a gruesome and awkward physicality. In the Norse legend Thorston and the Dwarf, the dwarf is described as horribly ugly with a mouth that runs from ear to ear, and a lower jaw that hangs to its knees (Keightley). This fits in with MacDonald's description of his goblins, particularly the queen, whose "nose was certainly broader at the end than its extreme length" and whose eyes "were set up like two perpendicular eggs, one on the broad, the other on the small end," and whose mouth, when she laughed, "stretched from ear to ear" (MacDonald, 135-36). MacDonald's physical description of the queen also evokes Scandinavian lore, which prescribes long crooked noses for dwarves, as well as humped backs. Furthermore, Scandinavian myths tell us that dwarves (who were interchangeable with trolls) lived very much in the style of humans; they tended to exist in smaller, family-sized units and sometimes in societies (Keightley). This is reminiscent of MacDonald's characterization of goblin culture. Curdie's first major encounter with goblins (within the plot of the book) is an accidental eavesdropping on a family who is packing up their belongings. After overhearing their plans, he decides to surreptitiously follow them. During his spying, he comes across a large group that exists only because of an important meeting called by the king (MacDonald, 52-69). This semi-solitary lifestyle is reinforced by the fact that the "cobs" don't seem to work very well together when in large groups, as evidenced by their bungled attack on Irene's castle.
The folkloric dwarves also share with MacDonald's people a savage dislike of loud noise. "The people of Ebeltoft were once sadly plagued by them," Thomas Keightley tells us, until they hung a bell in their church. The clang of the bells drove the dwarves (Keightley calls them trolls) from the town. This idea likely has its origins in Norse legends where Thor would hurl his thunderous hammer after them (Keightley). MacDonald gives us a variation in The Princess and the Goblin whenever Curdie belts out a rhyme, for "they can't bear singing," as he explains to Irene and her nurse (MacDonald, 35).
Within German folklore, dwarves were described as being like humans in many ways. They were thought to be of flesh and blood, with the human traits of bearing children, growing old, and dying. Indeed, they were often believed to have reasonably common interaction with humans, inspiring more than one tale of a rider or a wanderer who had stumbled upon a dwarven celebration and been invited to partake (Keightley). It seems unlikely that MacDonald's goblins would feel that generous toward the surface dwellers, but there can be no denying that there are certain similarities. Like the Germanic versions, MacDonald's creations can not tolerate direct sunlight and so spend the bulk of their time underground. If they are to venture outside, they do it at night only, and only in the "least frequented and most difficult parts of the mountains" (MacDonald, 4). They also have a penchant for breeding animals, much like various fairies and underworld gods from far eastern mythology (Mott).
One other trait that MacDonald borrowed from folklore is the goblin desire to abduct and mate with surface people. The king and queen hatch a diabolical plan to kidnap Irene from the safety of her own castle with the intention of marrying her to their own son, Harelip. Harelip, it turns out, is himself the offspring of the goblin king and an overworlder who had been abducted years earlier, presumably for much the same reason. Even the goblin queen shows signs of human blood mixing in her veins, as revealed by the sets of toes she keeps concealed in her stone shoes (Mott). One major difference between MacDonald's goblins and the mythological dwarves revolves around magic. In folklore the dwarves, like many other little people, generally had the ability to perform some version of simple magic, usually to the extent that they could render themselves invisible or change shape (Keightley). MacDonald's versions show no sign of this enchantment.
While MacDonald was by no means constrained by the descriptions and habits of dwarves and goblins throughout folklore, it is clear that he had a profound connection and respect for the stories that arose from earlier cultures. Like Wagner before him, and like Tolkien and Lewis after him, he has used his passion and knowledge of these intriguing and beguiling little people to enrich an already lush tale suitable for the childlike of all ages and times. Whether it's Harelip, Alberich, Bilbo or Tumnus, there will always be a place in the hearts and imaginations of the readers for the little people. By drawing on an established mythical background for his race of underground dwellers, MacDonald has created a convincing and unique cast of characters to be added to the pantheon of literature.
Works Cited
Keightley, Thomas. Thomas Keightley: Fairy Mythology. Belinus Press. 7 Nov. 2001
http://www.belinus.co.uk/folklore/FaerypiecesKeightley.htm
MacDonald, George. The Princess and the Goblin. 1872. N.p.: Penguin Group, 1996.
Mott, Wm. Michael. The Deep Dwellers. 12 Nov. 2001 http://www.hollowplanets.com/journal/J0002TheDeepDwellers.asp
Wiseley, Matt. An Etymology of Sprites and Fantastic Creatures. 7 Nov. 2001
http://www.wiseley.com/matt/files/sprites.html
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