With the world appearing increasingly divided and disagreements looming large over the cultural discourse, it is heartening to find something which we can all agree on. Such is the response to the first Oxford word of the year to be chosen by the public; for a brief time, 318,956 voters were willing to put their differences to one side and bring ‘goblin mode’ to victory with an overwhelming 93% of the vote share. What started as a meme has taken on a life of its own, coming to encapsulate the malaise felt by many emerging into a post-lockdown world.
Defined by Oxford University Press as ‘a type of behaviour which is unapologetically self-indulgent, lazy, slovenly, or greedy, typically in a way that rejects social norms or expectations’, it’s easy to see the term as a response to the omnipresence of idealised lives on social media over recent years, with president of Oxford Languages Casper Grathwohl observing that “It's a relief to acknowledge that we're not always the idealised, curated selves that we're encouraged to present on our Instagram and TikTok feeds''.
In looking for artworks which best encapsulate goblin mode, it seems only natural to first look for portrayals of the folkloric creatures themselves. Step forward, then, Arthur Rackham’s 1933 series of illustrations for Christina Rossetti’s long narrative poem Goblin Market (1862). Here, the goblins are displayed as temptatious creatures, with the British Library noting that ‘Rackham seems to be responding to the popular reading of the poem as a tale of the loss of sexual innocence’. Even outside of this reading, the tempting gluttony of the goblins in Rackham’s illustrations characterise one of the key tenets of ‘goblin mode’, though the dark forests denote a clear separation from the ‘human’ and ‘goblin’ worlds, notable when considering the recent term’s pandemic-ridden origins, from a time in which people were largely isolated from each-other.
For more depictions of the uninhibited hedonism characteristic of going goblin mode, we can turn to the work of Pieter Bruegel the Elder; The Fight Between Carnival and Lent, for instance, depicts raucous, unrestrained gluttony in stark contrast to reverence and piety, its figures uncaring about their appearance to wider society. For those interested in such depictions, Pieter Bruegel the Younger’s A Village Fair (Village Festival in Honour of Saint Hubert and Saint Anthony) is currently on display until 19th February 2023 at Kettle’s Yard in Cambridge as part of their exhibition Paint Like the Swallow Sings Calypso.
Such social disorder has been a popular topic for artists since the ancient world with its portraits of Bacchic excess, with various amphorae and wine jugs depicting revelry to echo that of their holders. Later depictions of the same Dionysiac celebration appear more critical of the pleasure derived from the excess; as expected, the temperance and restraint of the Victorian period clashes with these goblin-like values, as displayed in George Cruikshank’s The Worship of Bacchus. Portrayed critically here are not only the riotous drunken crowds, but also the everyday drinking of middle-class society.
On a somewhat more serious note, the popularity of the phrase ‘goblin mode’ can perhaps tell us something about the cultural zeitgeist we find ourselves in; as previously noted, the term has evolved to a message of self-acceptance outside of cultural norms. However, with many outlets focusing specifically on the word’s definition as ‘unapologetically self-indulgent, lazy, slovenly, or greedy’ behaviour, and explicitly linking the phrase to lockdown behaviours, it is worth considering what else the phrase’s popularity can tell us. The pandemic and the isolation it necessitated led to a steep rise in mental health crises across society. Perhaps one of the best depictions of this darker side of ‘goblin mode’ comes in the form of Tracey Emin’s infamous 1998 installation My Bed; instantly polarising upon its initial unveiling, the piece has arguably aged perfectly to characterise the depression, anxiety and helplessness felt by many over the course of several lockdowns.
So in conclusion, feel free to live your best goblin-like life regardless of social norms, but make sure to prioritise your own mental health, keep in contact with your loved ones and most importantly, please goblin mode responsibly.
With the world appearing increasingly divided and disagreements looming large over the cultural discourse, it is heartening to find something which we can all agree on. Such is the response to the first Oxford word of the year to be chosen by the public; for a brief time, 318,956 voters were willing to put their differences to one side and bring ‘goblin mode’ to victory with an overwhelming 93% of the vote share. What started as a meme has taken on a life of its own, coming to encapsulate the malaise felt by many emerging into a post-lockdown world.
Defined by Oxford University Press as ‘a type of behaviour which is unapologetically self-indulgent, lazy, slovenly, or greedy, typically in a way that rejects social norms or expectations’, it’s easy to see the term as a response to the omnipresence of idealised lives on social media over recent years, with president of Oxford Languages Casper Grathwohl observing that “It's a relief to acknowledge that we're not always the idealised, curated selves that we're encouraged to present on our Instagram and TikTok feeds''.
In looking for artworks which best encapsulate goblin mode, it seems only natural to first look for portrayals of the folkloric creatures themselves. Step forward, then, Arthur Rackham’s 1933 series of illustrations for Christina Rossetti’s long narrative poem Goblin Market (1862). Here, the goblins are displayed as temptatious creatures, with the British Library noting that ‘Rackham seems to be responding to the popular reading of the poem as a tale of the loss of sexual innocence’. Even outside of this reading, the tempting gluttony of the goblins in Rackham’s illustrations characterise one of the key tenets of ‘goblin mode’, though the dark forests denote a clear separation from the ‘human’ and ‘goblin’ worlds, notable when considering the recent term’s pandemic-ridden origins, from a time in which people were largely isolated from each-other.
For more depictions of the uninhibited hedonism characteristic of going goblin mode, we can turn to the work of Pieter Bruegel the Elder; The Fight Between Carnival and Lent, for instance, depicts raucous, unrestrained gluttony in stark contrast to reverence and piety, its figures uncaring about their appearance to wider society. For those interested in such depictions, Pieter Bruegel the Younger’s A Village Fair (Village Festival in Honour of Saint Hubert and Saint Anthony) is currently on display until 19th February 2023 at Kettle’s Yard in Cambridge as part of their exhibition Paint Like the Swallow Sings Calypso.
Such social disorder has been a popular topic for artists since the ancient world with its portraits of Bacchic excess, with various amphorae and wine jugs depicting revelry to echo that of their holders. Later depictions of the same Dionysiac celebration appear more critical of the pleasure derived from the excess; as expected, the temperance and restraint of the Victorian period clashes with these goblin-like values, as displayed in George Cruikshank’s The Worship of Bacchus. Portrayed critically here are not only the riotous drunken crowds, but also the everyday drinking of middle-class society.
On a somewhat more serious note, the popularity of the phrase ‘goblin mode’ can perhaps tell us something about the cultural zeitgeist we find ourselves in; as previously noted, the term has evolved to a message of self-acceptance outside of cultural norms. However, with many outlets focusing specifically on the word’s definition as ‘unapologetically self-indulgent, lazy, slovenly, or greedy’ behaviour, and explicitly linking the phrase to lockdown behaviours, it is worth considering what else the phrase’s popularity can tell us. The pandemic and the isolation it necessitated led to a steep rise in mental health crises across society. Perhaps one of the best depictions of this darker side of ‘goblin mode’ comes in the form of Tracey Emin’s infamous 1998 installation My Bed; instantly polarising upon its initial unveiling, the piece has arguably aged perfectly to characterise the depression, anxiety and helplessness felt by many over the course of several lockdowns.
So in conclusion, feel free to live your best goblin-like life regardless of social norms, but make sure to prioritise your own mental health, keep in contact with your loved ones and most importantly, please goblin mode responsibly.
With the world appearing increasingly divided and disagreements looming large over the cultural discourse, it is heartening to find something which we can all agree on. Such is the response to the first Oxford word of the year to be chosen by the public; for a brief time, 318,956 voters were willing to put their differences to one side and bring ‘goblin mode’ to victory with an overwhelming 93% of the vote share. What started as a meme has taken on a life of its own, coming to encapsulate the malaise felt by many emerging into a post-lockdown world.
Defined by Oxford University Press as ‘a type of behaviour which is unapologetically self-indulgent, lazy, slovenly, or greedy, typically in a way that rejects social norms or expectations’, it’s easy to see the term as a response to the omnipresence of idealised lives on social media over recent years, with president of Oxford Languages Casper Grathwohl observing that “It's a relief to acknowledge that we're not always the idealised, curated selves that we're encouraged to present on our Instagram and TikTok feeds''.
In looking for artworks which best encapsulate goblin mode, it seems only natural to first look for portrayals of the folkloric creatures themselves. Step forward, then, Arthur Rackham’s 1933 series of illustrations for Christina Rossetti’s long narrative poem Goblin Market (1862). Here, the goblins are displayed as temptatious creatures, with the British Library noting that ‘Rackham seems to be responding to the popular reading of the poem as a tale of the loss of sexual innocence’. Even outside of this reading, the tempting gluttony of the goblins in Rackham’s illustrations characterise one of the key tenets of ‘goblin mode’, though the dark forests denote a clear separation from the ‘human’ and ‘goblin’ worlds, notable when considering the recent term’s pandemic-ridden origins, from a time in which people were largely isolated from each-other.
For more depictions of the uninhibited hedonism characteristic of going goblin mode, we can turn to the work of Pieter Bruegel the Elder; The Fight Between Carnival and Lent, for instance, depicts raucous, unrestrained gluttony in stark contrast to reverence and piety, its figures uncaring about their appearance to wider society. For those interested in such depictions, Pieter Bruegel the Younger’s A Village Fair (Village Festival in Honour of Saint Hubert and Saint Anthony) is currently on display until 19th February 2023 at Kettle’s Yard in Cambridge as part of their exhibition Paint Like the Swallow Sings Calypso.
Such social disorder has been a popular topic for artists since the ancient world with its portraits of Bacchic excess, with various amphorae and wine jugs depicting revelry to echo that of their holders. Later depictions of the same Dionysiac celebration appear more critical of the pleasure derived from the excess; as expected, the temperance and restraint of the Victorian period clashes with these goblin-like values, as displayed in George Cruikshank’s The Worship of Bacchus. Portrayed critically here are not only the riotous drunken crowds, but also the everyday drinking of middle-class society.
On a somewhat more serious note, the popularity of the phrase ‘goblin mode’ can perhaps tell us something about the cultural zeitgeist we find ourselves in; as previously noted, the term has evolved to a message of self-acceptance outside of cultural norms. However, with many outlets focusing specifically on the word’s definition as ‘unapologetically self-indulgent, lazy, slovenly, or greedy’ behaviour, and explicitly linking the phrase to lockdown behaviours, it is worth considering what else the phrase’s popularity can tell us. The pandemic and the isolation it necessitated led to a steep rise in mental health crises across society. Perhaps one of the best depictions of this darker side of ‘goblin mode’ comes in the form of Tracey Emin’s infamous 1998 installation My Bed; instantly polarising upon its initial unveiling, the piece has arguably aged perfectly to characterise the depression, anxiety and helplessness felt by many over the course of several lockdowns.
So in conclusion, feel free to live your best goblin-like life regardless of social norms, but make sure to prioritise your own mental health, keep in contact with your loved ones and most importantly, please goblin mode responsibly.
With the world appearing increasingly divided and disagreements looming large over the cultural discourse, it is heartening to find something which we can all agree on. Such is the response to the first Oxford word of the year to be chosen by the public; for a brief time, 318,956 voters were willing to put their differences to one side and bring ‘goblin mode’ to victory with an overwhelming 93% of the vote share. What started as a meme has taken on a life of its own, coming to encapsulate the malaise felt by many emerging into a post-lockdown world.
Defined by Oxford University Press as ‘a type of behaviour which is unapologetically self-indulgent, lazy, slovenly, or greedy, typically in a way that rejects social norms or expectations’, it’s easy to see the term as a response to the omnipresence of idealised lives on social media over recent years, with president of Oxford Languages Casper Grathwohl observing that “It's a relief to acknowledge that we're not always the idealised, curated selves that we're encouraged to present on our Instagram and TikTok feeds''.
In looking for artworks which best encapsulate goblin mode, it seems only natural to first look for portrayals of the folkloric creatures themselves. Step forward, then, Arthur Rackham’s 1933 series of illustrations for Christina Rossetti’s long narrative poem Goblin Market (1862). Here, the goblins are displayed as temptatious creatures, with the British Library noting that ‘Rackham seems to be responding to the popular reading of the poem as a tale of the loss of sexual innocence’. Even outside of this reading, the tempting gluttony of the goblins in Rackham’s illustrations characterise one of the key tenets of ‘goblin mode’, though the dark forests denote a clear separation from the ‘human’ and ‘goblin’ worlds, notable when considering the recent term’s pandemic-ridden origins, from a time in which people were largely isolated from each-other.
For more depictions of the uninhibited hedonism characteristic of going goblin mode, we can turn to the work of Pieter Bruegel the Elder; The Fight Between Carnival and Lent, for instance, depicts raucous, unrestrained gluttony in stark contrast to reverence and piety, its figures uncaring about their appearance to wider society. For those interested in such depictions, Pieter Bruegel the Younger’s A Village Fair (Village Festival in Honour of Saint Hubert and Saint Anthony) is currently on display until 19th February 2023 at Kettle’s Yard in Cambridge as part of their exhibition Paint Like the Swallow Sings Calypso.
Such social disorder has been a popular topic for artists since the ancient world with its portraits of Bacchic excess, with various amphorae and wine jugs depicting revelry to echo that of their holders. Later depictions of the same Dionysiac celebration appear more critical of the pleasure derived from the excess; as expected, the temperance and restraint of the Victorian period clashes with these goblin-like values, as displayed in George Cruikshank’s The Worship of Bacchus. Portrayed critically here are not only the riotous drunken crowds, but also the everyday drinking of middle-class society.
On a somewhat more serious note, the popularity of the phrase ‘goblin mode’ can perhaps tell us something about the cultural zeitgeist we find ourselves in; as previously noted, the term has evolved to a message of self-acceptance outside of cultural norms. However, with many outlets focusing specifically on the word’s definition as ‘unapologetically self-indulgent, lazy, slovenly, or greedy’ behaviour, and explicitly linking the phrase to lockdown behaviours, it is worth considering what else the phrase’s popularity can tell us. The pandemic and the isolation it necessitated led to a steep rise in mental health crises across society. Perhaps one of the best depictions of this darker side of ‘goblin mode’ comes in the form of Tracey Emin’s infamous 1998 installation My Bed; instantly polarising upon its initial unveiling, the piece has arguably aged perfectly to characterise the depression, anxiety and helplessness felt by many over the course of several lockdowns.
So in conclusion, feel free to live your best goblin-like life regardless of social norms, but make sure to prioritise your own mental health, keep in contact with your loved ones and most importantly, please goblin mode responsibly.
With the world appearing increasingly divided and disagreements looming large over the cultural discourse, it is heartening to find something which we can all agree on. Such is the response to the first Oxford word of the year to be chosen by the public; for a brief time, 318,956 voters were willing to put their differences to one side and bring ‘goblin mode’ to victory with an overwhelming 93% of the vote share. What started as a meme has taken on a life of its own, coming to encapsulate the malaise felt by many emerging into a post-lockdown world.
Defined by Oxford University Press as ‘a type of behaviour which is unapologetically self-indulgent, lazy, slovenly, or greedy, typically in a way that rejects social norms or expectations’, it’s easy to see the term as a response to the omnipresence of idealised lives on social media over recent years, with president of Oxford Languages Casper Grathwohl observing that “It's a relief to acknowledge that we're not always the idealised, curated selves that we're encouraged to present on our Instagram and TikTok feeds''.
In looking for artworks which best encapsulate goblin mode, it seems only natural to first look for portrayals of the folkloric creatures themselves. Step forward, then, Arthur Rackham’s 1933 series of illustrations for Christina Rossetti’s long narrative poem Goblin Market (1862). Here, the goblins are displayed as temptatious creatures, with the British Library noting that ‘Rackham seems to be responding to the popular reading of the poem as a tale of the loss of sexual innocence’. Even outside of this reading, the tempting gluttony of the goblins in Rackham’s illustrations characterise one of the key tenets of ‘goblin mode’, though the dark forests denote a clear separation from the ‘human’ and ‘goblin’ worlds, notable when considering the recent term’s pandemic-ridden origins, from a time in which people were largely isolated from each-other.
For more depictions of the uninhibited hedonism characteristic of going goblin mode, we can turn to the work of Pieter Bruegel the Elder; The Fight Between Carnival and Lent, for instance, depicts raucous, unrestrained gluttony in stark contrast to reverence and piety, its figures uncaring about their appearance to wider society. For those interested in such depictions, Pieter Bruegel the Younger’s A Village Fair (Village Festival in Honour of Saint Hubert and Saint Anthony) is currently on display until 19th February 2023 at Kettle’s Yard in Cambridge as part of their exhibition Paint Like the Swallow Sings Calypso.
Such social disorder has been a popular topic for artists since the ancient world with its portraits of Bacchic excess, with various amphorae and wine jugs depicting revelry to echo that of their holders. Later depictions of the same Dionysiac celebration appear more critical of the pleasure derived from the excess; as expected, the temperance and restraint of the Victorian period clashes with these goblin-like values, as displayed in George Cruikshank’s The Worship of Bacchus. Portrayed critically here are not only the riotous drunken crowds, but also the everyday drinking of middle-class society.
On a somewhat more serious note, the popularity of the phrase ‘goblin mode’ can perhaps tell us something about the cultural zeitgeist we find ourselves in; as previously noted, the term has evolved to a message of self-acceptance outside of cultural norms. However, with many outlets focusing specifically on the word’s definition as ‘unapologetically self-indulgent, lazy, slovenly, or greedy’ behaviour, and explicitly linking the phrase to lockdown behaviours, it is worth considering what else the phrase’s popularity can tell us. The pandemic and the isolation it necessitated led to a steep rise in mental health crises across society. Perhaps one of the best depictions of this darker side of ‘goblin mode’ comes in the form of Tracey Emin’s infamous 1998 installation My Bed; instantly polarising upon its initial unveiling, the piece has arguably aged perfectly to characterise the depression, anxiety and helplessness felt by many over the course of several lockdowns.
So in conclusion, feel free to live your best goblin-like life regardless of social norms, but make sure to prioritise your own mental health, keep in contact with your loved ones and most importantly, please goblin mode responsibly.
With the world appearing increasingly divided and disagreements looming large over the cultural discourse, it is heartening to find something which we can all agree on. Such is the response to the first Oxford word of the year to be chosen by the public; for a brief time, 318,956 voters were willing to put their differences to one side and bring ‘goblin mode’ to victory with an overwhelming 93% of the vote share. What started as a meme has taken on a life of its own, coming to encapsulate the malaise felt by many emerging into a post-lockdown world.
Defined by Oxford University Press as ‘a type of behaviour which is unapologetically self-indulgent, lazy, slovenly, or greedy, typically in a way that rejects social norms or expectations’, it’s easy to see the term as a response to the omnipresence of idealised lives on social media over recent years, with president of Oxford Languages Casper Grathwohl observing that “It's a relief to acknowledge that we're not always the idealised, curated selves that we're encouraged to present on our Instagram and TikTok feeds''.
In looking for artworks which best encapsulate goblin mode, it seems only natural to first look for portrayals of the folkloric creatures themselves. Step forward, then, Arthur Rackham’s 1933 series of illustrations for Christina Rossetti’s long narrative poem Goblin Market (1862). Here, the goblins are displayed as temptatious creatures, with the British Library noting that ‘Rackham seems to be responding to the popular reading of the poem as a tale of the loss of sexual innocence’. Even outside of this reading, the tempting gluttony of the goblins in Rackham’s illustrations characterise one of the key tenets of ‘goblin mode’, though the dark forests denote a clear separation from the ‘human’ and ‘goblin’ worlds, notable when considering the recent term’s pandemic-ridden origins, from a time in which people were largely isolated from each-other.
For more depictions of the uninhibited hedonism characteristic of going goblin mode, we can turn to the work of Pieter Bruegel the Elder; The Fight Between Carnival and Lent, for instance, depicts raucous, unrestrained gluttony in stark contrast to reverence and piety, its figures uncaring about their appearance to wider society. For those interested in such depictions, Pieter Bruegel the Younger’s A Village Fair (Village Festival in Honour of Saint Hubert and Saint Anthony) is currently on display until 19th February 2023 at Kettle’s Yard in Cambridge as part of their exhibition Paint Like the Swallow Sings Calypso.
Such social disorder has been a popular topic for artists since the ancient world with its portraits of Bacchic excess, with various amphorae and wine jugs depicting revelry to echo that of their holders. Later depictions of the same Dionysiac celebration appear more critical of the pleasure derived from the excess; as expected, the temperance and restraint of the Victorian period clashes with these goblin-like values, as displayed in George Cruikshank’s The Worship of Bacchus. Portrayed critically here are not only the riotous drunken crowds, but also the everyday drinking of middle-class society.
On a somewhat more serious note, the popularity of the phrase ‘goblin mode’ can perhaps tell us something about the cultural zeitgeist we find ourselves in; as previously noted, the term has evolved to a message of self-acceptance outside of cultural norms. However, with many outlets focusing specifically on the word’s definition as ‘unapologetically self-indulgent, lazy, slovenly, or greedy’ behaviour, and explicitly linking the phrase to lockdown behaviours, it is worth considering what else the phrase’s popularity can tell us. The pandemic and the isolation it necessitated led to a steep rise in mental health crises across society. Perhaps one of the best depictions of this darker side of ‘goblin mode’ comes in the form of Tracey Emin’s infamous 1998 installation My Bed; instantly polarising upon its initial unveiling, the piece has arguably aged perfectly to characterise the depression, anxiety and helplessness felt by many over the course of several lockdowns.
So in conclusion, feel free to live your best goblin-like life regardless of social norms, but make sure to prioritise your own mental health, keep in contact with your loved ones and most importantly, please goblin mode responsibly.
With the world appearing increasingly divided and disagreements looming large over the cultural discourse, it is heartening to find something which we can all agree on. Such is the response to the first Oxford word of the year to be chosen by the public; for a brief time, 318,956 voters were willing to put their differences to one side and bring ‘goblin mode’ to victory with an overwhelming 93% of the vote share. What started as a meme has taken on a life of its own, coming to encapsulate the malaise felt by many emerging into a post-lockdown world.
Defined by Oxford University Press as ‘a type of behaviour which is unapologetically self-indulgent, lazy, slovenly, or greedy, typically in a way that rejects social norms or expectations’, it’s easy to see the term as a response to the omnipresence of idealised lives on social media over recent years, with president of Oxford Languages Casper Grathwohl observing that “It's a relief to acknowledge that we're not always the idealised, curated selves that we're encouraged to present on our Instagram and TikTok feeds''.
In looking for artworks which best encapsulate goblin mode, it seems only natural to first look for portrayals of the folkloric creatures themselves. Step forward, then, Arthur Rackham’s 1933 series of illustrations for Christina Rossetti’s long narrative poem Goblin Market (1862). Here, the goblins are displayed as temptatious creatures, with the British Library noting that ‘Rackham seems to be responding to the popular reading of the poem as a tale of the loss of sexual innocence’. Even outside of this reading, the tempting gluttony of the goblins in Rackham’s illustrations characterise one of the key tenets of ‘goblin mode’, though the dark forests denote a clear separation from the ‘human’ and ‘goblin’ worlds, notable when considering the recent term’s pandemic-ridden origins, from a time in which people were largely isolated from each-other.
For more depictions of the uninhibited hedonism characteristic of going goblin mode, we can turn to the work of Pieter Bruegel the Elder; The Fight Between Carnival and Lent, for instance, depicts raucous, unrestrained gluttony in stark contrast to reverence and piety, its figures uncaring about their appearance to wider society. For those interested in such depictions, Pieter Bruegel the Younger’s A Village Fair (Village Festival in Honour of Saint Hubert and Saint Anthony) is currently on display until 19th February 2023 at Kettle’s Yard in Cambridge as part of their exhibition Paint Like the Swallow Sings Calypso.
Such social disorder has been a popular topic for artists since the ancient world with its portraits of Bacchic excess, with various amphorae and wine jugs depicting revelry to echo that of their holders. Later depictions of the same Dionysiac celebration appear more critical of the pleasure derived from the excess; as expected, the temperance and restraint of the Victorian period clashes with these goblin-like values, as displayed in George Cruikshank’s The Worship of Bacchus. Portrayed critically here are not only the riotous drunken crowds, but also the everyday drinking of middle-class society.
On a somewhat more serious note, the popularity of the phrase ‘goblin mode’ can perhaps tell us something about the cultural zeitgeist we find ourselves in; as previously noted, the term has evolved to a message of self-acceptance outside of cultural norms. However, with many outlets focusing specifically on the word’s definition as ‘unapologetically self-indulgent, lazy, slovenly, or greedy’ behaviour, and explicitly linking the phrase to lockdown behaviours, it is worth considering what else the phrase’s popularity can tell us. The pandemic and the isolation it necessitated led to a steep rise in mental health crises across society. Perhaps one of the best depictions of this darker side of ‘goblin mode’ comes in the form of Tracey Emin’s infamous 1998 installation My Bed; instantly polarising upon its initial unveiling, the piece has arguably aged perfectly to characterise the depression, anxiety and helplessness felt by many over the course of several lockdowns.
So in conclusion, feel free to live your best goblin-like life regardless of social norms, but make sure to prioritise your own mental health, keep in contact with your loved ones and most importantly, please goblin mode responsibly.
With the world appearing increasingly divided and disagreements looming large over the cultural discourse, it is heartening to find something which we can all agree on. Such is the response to the first Oxford word of the year to be chosen by the public; for a brief time, 318,956 voters were willing to put their differences to one side and bring ‘goblin mode’ to victory with an overwhelming 93% of the vote share. What started as a meme has taken on a life of its own, coming to encapsulate the malaise felt by many emerging into a post-lockdown world.
Defined by Oxford University Press as ‘a type of behaviour which is unapologetically self-indulgent, lazy, slovenly, or greedy, typically in a way that rejects social norms or expectations’, it’s easy to see the term as a response to the omnipresence of idealised lives on social media over recent years, with president of Oxford Languages Casper Grathwohl observing that “It's a relief to acknowledge that we're not always the idealised, curated selves that we're encouraged to present on our Instagram and TikTok feeds''.
In looking for artworks which best encapsulate goblin mode, it seems only natural to first look for portrayals of the folkloric creatures themselves. Step forward, then, Arthur Rackham’s 1933 series of illustrations for Christina Rossetti’s long narrative poem Goblin Market (1862). Here, the goblins are displayed as temptatious creatures, with the British Library noting that ‘Rackham seems to be responding to the popular reading of the poem as a tale of the loss of sexual innocence’. Even outside of this reading, the tempting gluttony of the goblins in Rackham’s illustrations characterise one of the key tenets of ‘goblin mode’, though the dark forests denote a clear separation from the ‘human’ and ‘goblin’ worlds, notable when considering the recent term’s pandemic-ridden origins, from a time in which people were largely isolated from each-other.
For more depictions of the uninhibited hedonism characteristic of going goblin mode, we can turn to the work of Pieter Bruegel the Elder; The Fight Between Carnival and Lent, for instance, depicts raucous, unrestrained gluttony in stark contrast to reverence and piety, its figures uncaring about their appearance to wider society. For those interested in such depictions, Pieter Bruegel the Younger’s A Village Fair (Village Festival in Honour of Saint Hubert and Saint Anthony) is currently on display until 19th February 2023 at Kettle’s Yard in Cambridge as part of their exhibition Paint Like the Swallow Sings Calypso.
Such social disorder has been a popular topic for artists since the ancient world with its portraits of Bacchic excess, with various amphorae and wine jugs depicting revelry to echo that of their holders. Later depictions of the same Dionysiac celebration appear more critical of the pleasure derived from the excess; as expected, the temperance and restraint of the Victorian period clashes with these goblin-like values, as displayed in George Cruikshank’s The Worship of Bacchus. Portrayed critically here are not only the riotous drunken crowds, but also the everyday drinking of middle-class society.
On a somewhat more serious note, the popularity of the phrase ‘goblin mode’ can perhaps tell us something about the cultural zeitgeist we find ourselves in; as previously noted, the term has evolved to a message of self-acceptance outside of cultural norms. However, with many outlets focusing specifically on the word’s definition as ‘unapologetically self-indulgent, lazy, slovenly, or greedy’ behaviour, and explicitly linking the phrase to lockdown behaviours, it is worth considering what else the phrase’s popularity can tell us. The pandemic and the isolation it necessitated led to a steep rise in mental health crises across society. Perhaps one of the best depictions of this darker side of ‘goblin mode’ comes in the form of Tracey Emin’s infamous 1998 installation My Bed; instantly polarising upon its initial unveiling, the piece has arguably aged perfectly to characterise the depression, anxiety and helplessness felt by many over the course of several lockdowns.
So in conclusion, feel free to live your best goblin-like life regardless of social norms, but make sure to prioritise your own mental health, keep in contact with your loved ones and most importantly, please goblin mode responsibly.
With the world appearing increasingly divided and disagreements looming large over the cultural discourse, it is heartening to find something which we can all agree on. Such is the response to the first Oxford word of the year to be chosen by the public; for a brief time, 318,956 voters were willing to put their differences to one side and bring ‘goblin mode’ to victory with an overwhelming 93% of the vote share. What started as a meme has taken on a life of its own, coming to encapsulate the malaise felt by many emerging into a post-lockdown world.
Defined by Oxford University Press as ‘a type of behaviour which is unapologetically self-indulgent, lazy, slovenly, or greedy, typically in a way that rejects social norms or expectations’, it’s easy to see the term as a response to the omnipresence of idealised lives on social media over recent years, with president of Oxford Languages Casper Grathwohl observing that “It's a relief to acknowledge that we're not always the idealised, curated selves that we're encouraged to present on our Instagram and TikTok feeds''.
In looking for artworks which best encapsulate goblin mode, it seems only natural to first look for portrayals of the folkloric creatures themselves. Step forward, then, Arthur Rackham’s 1933 series of illustrations for Christina Rossetti’s long narrative poem Goblin Market (1862). Here, the goblins are displayed as temptatious creatures, with the British Library noting that ‘Rackham seems to be responding to the popular reading of the poem as a tale of the loss of sexual innocence’. Even outside of this reading, the tempting gluttony of the goblins in Rackham’s illustrations characterise one of the key tenets of ‘goblin mode’, though the dark forests denote a clear separation from the ‘human’ and ‘goblin’ worlds, notable when considering the recent term’s pandemic-ridden origins, from a time in which people were largely isolated from each-other.
For more depictions of the uninhibited hedonism characteristic of going goblin mode, we can turn to the work of Pieter Bruegel the Elder; The Fight Between Carnival and Lent, for instance, depicts raucous, unrestrained gluttony in stark contrast to reverence and piety, its figures uncaring about their appearance to wider society. For those interested in such depictions, Pieter Bruegel the Younger’s A Village Fair (Village Festival in Honour of Saint Hubert and Saint Anthony) is currently on display until 19th February 2023 at Kettle’s Yard in Cambridge as part of their exhibition Paint Like the Swallow Sings Calypso.
Such social disorder has been a popular topic for artists since the ancient world with its portraits of Bacchic excess, with various amphorae and wine jugs depicting revelry to echo that of their holders. Later depictions of the same Dionysiac celebration appear more critical of the pleasure derived from the excess; as expected, the temperance and restraint of the Victorian period clashes with these goblin-like values, as displayed in George Cruikshank’s The Worship of Bacchus. Portrayed critically here are not only the riotous drunken crowds, but also the everyday drinking of middle-class society.
On a somewhat more serious note, the popularity of the phrase ‘goblin mode’ can perhaps tell us something about the cultural zeitgeist we find ourselves in; as previously noted, the term has evolved to a message of self-acceptance outside of cultural norms. However, with many outlets focusing specifically on the word’s definition as ‘unapologetically self-indulgent, lazy, slovenly, or greedy’ behaviour, and explicitly linking the phrase to lockdown behaviours, it is worth considering what else the phrase’s popularity can tell us. The pandemic and the isolation it necessitated led to a steep rise in mental health crises across society. Perhaps one of the best depictions of this darker side of ‘goblin mode’ comes in the form of Tracey Emin’s infamous 1998 installation My Bed; instantly polarising upon its initial unveiling, the piece has arguably aged perfectly to characterise the depression, anxiety and helplessness felt by many over the course of several lockdowns.
So in conclusion, feel free to live your best goblin-like life regardless of social norms, but make sure to prioritise your own mental health, keep in contact with your loved ones and most importantly, please goblin mode responsibly.
With the world appearing increasingly divided and disagreements looming large over the cultural discourse, it is heartening to find something which we can all agree on. Such is the response to the first Oxford word of the year to be chosen by the public; for a brief time, 318,956 voters were willing to put their differences to one side and bring ‘goblin mode’ to victory with an overwhelming 93% of the vote share. What started as a meme has taken on a life of its own, coming to encapsulate the malaise felt by many emerging into a post-lockdown world.
Defined by Oxford University Press as ‘a type of behaviour which is unapologetically self-indulgent, lazy, slovenly, or greedy, typically in a way that rejects social norms or expectations’, it’s easy to see the term as a response to the omnipresence of idealised lives on social media over recent years, with president of Oxford Languages Casper Grathwohl observing that “It's a relief to acknowledge that we're not always the idealised, curated selves that we're encouraged to present on our Instagram and TikTok feeds''.
In looking for artworks which best encapsulate goblin mode, it seems only natural to first look for portrayals of the folkloric creatures themselves. Step forward, then, Arthur Rackham’s 1933 series of illustrations for Christina Rossetti’s long narrative poem Goblin Market (1862). Here, the goblins are displayed as temptatious creatures, with the British Library noting that ‘Rackham seems to be responding to the popular reading of the poem as a tale of the loss of sexual innocence’. Even outside of this reading, the tempting gluttony of the goblins in Rackham’s illustrations characterise one of the key tenets of ‘goblin mode’, though the dark forests denote a clear separation from the ‘human’ and ‘goblin’ worlds, notable when considering the recent term’s pandemic-ridden origins, from a time in which people were largely isolated from each-other.
For more depictions of the uninhibited hedonism characteristic of going goblin mode, we can turn to the work of Pieter Bruegel the Elder; The Fight Between Carnival and Lent, for instance, depicts raucous, unrestrained gluttony in stark contrast to reverence and piety, its figures uncaring about their appearance to wider society. For those interested in such depictions, Pieter Bruegel the Younger’s A Village Fair (Village Festival in Honour of Saint Hubert and Saint Anthony) is currently on display until 19th February 2023 at Kettle’s Yard in Cambridge as part of their exhibition Paint Like the Swallow Sings Calypso.
Such social disorder has been a popular topic for artists since the ancient world with its portraits of Bacchic excess, with various amphorae and wine jugs depicting revelry to echo that of their holders. Later depictions of the same Dionysiac celebration appear more critical of the pleasure derived from the excess; as expected, the temperance and restraint of the Victorian period clashes with these goblin-like values, as displayed in George Cruikshank’s The Worship of Bacchus. Portrayed critically here are not only the riotous drunken crowds, but also the everyday drinking of middle-class society.
On a somewhat more serious note, the popularity of the phrase ‘goblin mode’ can perhaps tell us something about the cultural zeitgeist we find ourselves in; as previously noted, the term has evolved to a message of self-acceptance outside of cultural norms. However, with many outlets focusing specifically on the word’s definition as ‘unapologetically self-indulgent, lazy, slovenly, or greedy’ behaviour, and explicitly linking the phrase to lockdown behaviours, it is worth considering what else the phrase’s popularity can tell us. The pandemic and the isolation it necessitated led to a steep rise in mental health crises across society. Perhaps one of the best depictions of this darker side of ‘goblin mode’ comes in the form of Tracey Emin’s infamous 1998 installation My Bed; instantly polarising upon its initial unveiling, the piece has arguably aged perfectly to characterise the depression, anxiety and helplessness felt by many over the course of several lockdowns.
So in conclusion, feel free to live your best goblin-like life regardless of social norms, but make sure to prioritise your own mental health, keep in contact with your loved ones and most importantly, please goblin mode responsibly.
With the world appearing increasingly divided and disagreements looming large over the cultural discourse, it is heartening to find something which we can all agree on. Such is the response to the first Oxford word of the year to be chosen by the public; for a brief time, 318,956 voters were willing to put their differences to one side and bring ‘goblin mode’ to victory with an overwhelming 93% of the vote share. What started as a meme has taken on a life of its own, coming to encapsulate the malaise felt by many emerging into a post-lockdown world.
Defined by Oxford University Press as ‘a type of behaviour which is unapologetically self-indulgent, lazy, slovenly, or greedy, typically in a way that rejects social norms or expectations’, it’s easy to see the term as a response to the omnipresence of idealised lives on social media over recent years, with president of Oxford Languages Casper Grathwohl observing that “It's a relief to acknowledge that we're not always the idealised, curated selves that we're encouraged to present on our Instagram and TikTok feeds''.
In looking for artworks which best encapsulate goblin mode, it seems only natural to first look for portrayals of the folkloric creatures themselves. Step forward, then, Arthur Rackham’s 1933 series of illustrations for Christina Rossetti’s long narrative poem Goblin Market (1862). Here, the goblins are displayed as temptatious creatures, with the British Library noting that ‘Rackham seems to be responding to the popular reading of the poem as a tale of the loss of sexual innocence’. Even outside of this reading, the tempting gluttony of the goblins in Rackham’s illustrations characterise one of the key tenets of ‘goblin mode’, though the dark forests denote a clear separation from the ‘human’ and ‘goblin’ worlds, notable when considering the recent term’s pandemic-ridden origins, from a time in which people were largely isolated from each-other.
For more depictions of the uninhibited hedonism characteristic of going goblin mode, we can turn to the work of Pieter Bruegel the Elder; The Fight Between Carnival and Lent, for instance, depicts raucous, unrestrained gluttony in stark contrast to reverence and piety, its figures uncaring about their appearance to wider society. For those interested in such depictions, Pieter Bruegel the Younger’s A Village Fair (Village Festival in Honour of Saint Hubert and Saint Anthony) is currently on display until 19th February 2023 at Kettle’s Yard in Cambridge as part of their exhibition Paint Like the Swallow Sings Calypso.
Such social disorder has been a popular topic for artists since the ancient world with its portraits of Bacchic excess, with various amphorae and wine jugs depicting revelry to echo that of their holders. Later depictions of the same Dionysiac celebration appear more critical of the pleasure derived from the excess; as expected, the temperance and restraint of the Victorian period clashes with these goblin-like values, as displayed in George Cruikshank’s The Worship of Bacchus. Portrayed critically here are not only the riotous drunken crowds, but also the everyday drinking of middle-class society.
On a somewhat more serious note, the popularity of the phrase ‘goblin mode’ can perhaps tell us something about the cultural zeitgeist we find ourselves in; as previously noted, the term has evolved to a message of self-acceptance outside of cultural norms. However, with many outlets focusing specifically on the word’s definition as ‘unapologetically self-indulgent, lazy, slovenly, or greedy’ behaviour, and explicitly linking the phrase to lockdown behaviours, it is worth considering what else the phrase’s popularity can tell us. The pandemic and the isolation it necessitated led to a steep rise in mental health crises across society. Perhaps one of the best depictions of this darker side of ‘goblin mode’ comes in the form of Tracey Emin’s infamous 1998 installation My Bed; instantly polarising upon its initial unveiling, the piece has arguably aged perfectly to characterise the depression, anxiety and helplessness felt by many over the course of several lockdowns.
So in conclusion, feel free to live your best goblin-like life regardless of social norms, but make sure to prioritise your own mental health, keep in contact with your loved ones and most importantly, please goblin mode responsibly.
