Love and Loss

A devoted adherent of the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood, Christina Rosetti stressed the sensual in her poem “Goblin Market,” a Victorian-era curiosity about two sisters beset by goblins that contains some of the most graphic lesbian imagery this side of the Freudian divide. Although Rosetti’s emphasis was arguably unwitting, modern readers tend to get hung up on the work’s sexuality at the expense of its sweeter elements.

In the musical adaptation “Goblin Market,” now at International City Theatre, composer Polly Pen and Peggy Harmon, who co-wrote the book with Pen, transmute Rosetti’s fascinating, fervid period piece into a heartbreakingly elegiac allegory about sister love and the evanescence of innocence. Their lesson--that the gap between innocence and experience is really only a hairsbreadth--is rendered with uncompromising subtlety and sophistication in Jules Aaron’s cameo-perfect staging.

While fairy stories are cautionary tales for children--reminders that monsters prey on the gullible--the true horror for adults is not the monster but mortality, that keen realization of impermanence that’s usually grasped only in age.

In “Market,” that sense of loss wells up in the viewer’s throat from the opening scene and never ebbs. Two sisters, Laura (Marnie Mosiman) and Lizzie (Susan Hoffman), both clad in mourning for an undefined cause, enter the dusty nursery of their youth, meticulously realized in Bradley Kaye’s set. As they pull the dust cloths off the furniture, they rediscover their toys. The women pull off their own dust covers as well--their elaborate Victorian attire (sumptuously designed by Angela Balogh Calin). They emerge as giggling girls in nightdress, playing children’s games in the security of their nursery.

But security is relative, even for properly bred Victorian misses. The siren call of goblins lures Laura to gorge on unholy goblin fruits. When Laura goes into a steep decline, it’s up to Lizzie, whose rectitude never wavers, to brave the goblins’ haunts--unseen by us yet keenly evoked by Aaron’s imaginative blocking--and save her sister’s life.

As the sister who surrenders to sensation, Mosiman has the showier role, but both she and Hoffman perform with a lyric intensity that is well-balanced with their lovely singing voices. With the help of Michael Farrell’s musical direction and Tim Parsh’s sound design, the actresses handle Pen’s challenging score with deceptively effortless finesse. Lee Martino’s choreography evokes the gangliness of childhood, and the small stage is effectively lit by Paulie Jenkins.

This is International City Theatre’s final show, after 14 years, in its Long Beach City College space. From now on, the company will produce only at the mid-size Center Theater. It’s a fitting swan song--and an intimation of good things to come.

BE THERE

“Goblin Market,” International City Theatre, Clark Street and Harvey Way, Long Beach. Fridays and Saturdays, 8 p.m.; Sundays, 2 p.m. Ends Nov. 14. $22. (562) 938-4128. Running time: 1 hour, 10 minutes.