“The Hollow of the Three Hills” presents the story of a young woman who, out of desperation and shame, strikes an unholy deal with an “ill-favored” and “decrepit” old crone. This agreement between the two leads to the young woman’s untimely death, and in the story’s closing lines the crone celebrates the woman’s demise, proclaiming their transaction to have been a “sweet hour’s sport.” Through this pessimistic narrative, in which no character is truly blameless and the forces of evil ultimately triumph, it appears that Hawthorne is critiquing the notion of transcendentalism, a philosophical movement originating in the early 19th century which suggested that humans, when removed from societal influence, are innately good. Through this exaggeratedly cynical story of a woman succumbing to malevolent forces, Hawthorne dismisses these notions of inherent goodness as overly optimistic.
In “The Hollow of the Three Hills,” Hawthorne critiques the transcendentalist idea of intrinsic human goodness by subverting the movement’s primary narrative, which stated that individuals could find faith and redemption by shrugging off the corrupting power of modern civilization and returning instead to the purifying presence of nature. The young woman’s journey, in which she leaves her old life behind and turns to the hollow in search of closure, directly mirrors this narrative. However, instead of reaching spiritual fulfillment in the nature of the hollow, as transcendentalism would imply, the young woman instead encounters nothing but evil and corruption. Hawthorne highlights this point through his use of twisted religious imagery. Where transcendentalists believed that they could find God through nature, the young woman instead finds a pool once used by a “Power of Evil” for an “impious baptismal rite,” as well as the old crone, who recites a “prayer that was not meant to be acceptable in Heaven.” In describing these blasphemous rituals, Hawthorne paints the natural world not as a source of innate goodness, but as a refuge of the unholy and occult. The story further stresses this idea of nature as a source of corruption when the young woman kneels at the old crone’s feet and the “border of her garment [is] dipped into the pool.” In having the young woman touch the same waters once used for “impious” baptisms, Hawthorne implies that rather than finding faith on her journey to the hollow, she has instead become tainted by evil.
Having now firmly established that there is no such thing as innate natural goodness, Hawthorne goes on to assert the existence of innate and unconquerable evil. The story reflects this attitude through its depiction of light and shadow, representing good and evil, respectively. Despite the story taking place at sunset, the hollow itself remains permanently shrouded in darkness, the narrator stating that while “the golden skirts of day were yet lingering upon the hills […] deep shades obscured the hollow and the pool, as if sombre night were rising thence to overspread the world.” The hollow’s seeming resistance to light paints the location as a permanent and unmovable monument to evil. Meanwhile, the young woman, whom Hawthorne emphasizes for her “fair” and “pale” complexion, acts as the one source of light in the hollow. However, contrary to the transcendentalist belief that even the smallest ray of light can penetrate the darkness, the young woman dies at the hands of the old crone, once more leaving the hollow in complete shadow, and ultimately demonstrating Hawthorne’s view that evil can easily overpower goodness.
Overall, “The Hollow of the Three Hills” is a reactionary criticism of the transcendentalist philosophers of the era, whose sincere belief in human virtue Hawthorne paints as naivety, incompatible with the grim realities of life. Through the pervasive darkness of the hollow and victory of the old crone, Hawthorne instead portrays a world in which evil is a permanent and inevitable facet of life.
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The Triumph of Evil ThemeTracker
The Triumph of Evil Quotes in The Hollow of the Three Hills
One was a lady, graceful in form and fair of feature, though pale and troubled, and smitten with an untimely blight in what should have been the fullest bloom of her years; the other was an ancient and meanly dressed woman, of ill-favored aspect, and so withered, shrunken and decrepit, that even the space since she began to decay must have exceeded the ordinary term of human existence.
One of these masses of decaying wood, formerly a majestic oak, rested close beside a pool of green and sluggish water at the bottom of the basin. Such scenes as this (so gray tradition tells) were once the resort of a Power of Evil and his plighted subjects; and here, at midnight or on the dim verge of evening, they were said to stand round the mantling pool, disturbing its putrid waters in the performance of an impious baptismal rite.
As the old withered woman spoke, a smile glimmered on her countenance, like lamplight on the wall of a sepulchre. The lady trembled, and cast her eyes upward to the verge of the basin, as if meditating to return with her purpose unaccomplished. But it was not so ordained.
‘Kneel down,’ she said, ‘and lay your forehead on my knees.’ She hesitated a moment, but the anxiety, that had long been kindling, burned fiercely up within her. As she knelt down, the border of her garment was dipped into the pool; she laid her forehead on the old woman’s knees, and the latter drew a cloak about the lady’s face, so that she was in darkness. Then she heard the muttered words of a prayer, in the midst of which she started, and would have arisen.
The golden skirts of day were yet lingering upon the hills, but deep shades obscured the hollow and the pool, as if sombre night were rising thence to overspread the world.
Stronger it grew and sadder, and deepened into the tone of a death bell, knolling dolefully from some ivy-mantled tower, and bearing tidings of mortality and woe to the cottage, to the hall, and to the solitary wayfarer, that all might weep for the doom appointed in turn to them.
