“I hate the dreadful Hollow behind the little wood.
Its lips in the field above are dabbled with blood-red heath;
The red ribb’d ledges drip with a silent horror of blood,
And Echo there, whatever is ask’d her, answers ‘Death’”—Tennyson, quoted by Poirot
“He is dead and gone, lady
He is dead and gone;
At his head a grass-green turf
At his heels a stone”—Shakespeare (Hamlet), quoted by Midge
“Everything matters”—Poirot
This book has a slightly lower Goodreads rating than other Poirot books, but I will disagree and say this surprised me and is, #25, one of the best I have read, maybe not quite in the upper echelon, but pretty great. I fully expected to dislike this, as I had heard that it was written at a time when Christie begins to really dislike her own internationally famous character Poirot. She said, "I had got used to having Poirot in my books, and so naturally he had come into this one, but he was all wrong there. He did his stuff all right, but how much better, I kept thinking, would the book have been without him." She felt he was already in 1946 beginning to be an albatross, in part because of his very popularity, and because of the limitations she had placed on his character right from the beginning. She thought in retrospect that this book in particular was "ruined" by including Poirot! But I beg to disagree, Madame! But I implore you, let me make my case!
Trust me, I know how annoying the pompous Belgian can be at times, but let me just say: I think the opening (and closing) pages, focused on the artwork of Henrietta Savernak, is some of the best writing you have done thus far. I noticed in this book, too, your conscious attempt at highlighting some of the literary dimensions of your work. You're at this point internationally famous as a mystery writer--I do not mean to merely flatter you, Dame Christie--and you have almost singlehandedly elevated the public's respect for mysteries, though you for a long time only claimed the work as “mere entertainment.” Yet in The Hollow you make references to literature more often than usual, to works such as Ibsen’s Peer Gynt, Shakespeare, and (see above) Tennyson. Maybe this is one reason you later regretted the inclusion of Poirot. The silly little Belgian was hard to integrate into the more serious tone of this work you began to develop. Maybe for us it is a strength of this book that Poirot actually comes in later in this book than he usually does, and is actually less a central character than he usually is, but he is still integral to the story.
The story features a truly (but not without flaws) good man, Dr. John Christow, married to Gerda. He is devoted to her, in ways she doesn’t fully realize, but he also “sees” Henrietta, and Veronica, a woman he had once dated who also makes her way into the tale. So Christow is killed, shot, just as Poirot arrives as an invited guest. As expected we get lots of false leads, red herrings, all sort of misdirection from you, the mystery magician, which we also are expected to . . . suspect, of course. In this one, though, we try to anticipate your obvious setups, but still get the tables turned on us, with a really terrific resolution. We think we can outsmart you, but think again, we must!
I like in The Hollow reflections various characters make about how Christow is somehow more “real” than anyone else. There’s a lot of shallow (or, less real, or maybe even "hollow"!) people in the book; Lucy is one of them, one of the batty women you like to give absurd dialogue in her books, such as what she says as they eat dessert after Christow’s death: "We are only moderately fond of carmel custard. There would be something gross, just after the death of a friend, in eating one's favorite pudding. But carmel custard is so easy, and then one leaves a little on one's plate."
But several of the characters reflect on their shallowness and seem to make commitments to better themselves and live more principled or “real” lives as Christow had done. There’s some nice reflections on grief, too, and how we might live and grow from it. Some consider suicide, and consider their life purposes. Well, it's not Hamlet, but I appreciated your attempts at being a little more thoughtful than usual about life!
Christow says to Henrietta, “If I were dead, the first thing you'd do, with the tears streaming down your face, would be to start modelling some damned mourning woman or some figure of grief.” Which in fact seems to be true, in the end; Henrietta turns to her art after Christow! Anyway, I liked the someone more serious tone and some of the writing in this one quite a bit! Maybe part of it is that it exceeded my expectations.