Oh, my goodness, what a great mystery! Not a typical mystery, because whether or not a planned double murder takes place at all will depend on an almost completely paralyzed stroke victim who hears the plan through the wall of her room.
Australian novelist Patricia Carlon (1927-2002) wrote *Whispering Wall* in the 1960s. Protagonist Sarah Oatland, 61, is completely dependent on a penny-pinching niece and the officious but kindly Nurse Bragg. When she first discovers she can wink an eye (one wink for "yes" and two for "no"), the only person Sarah allows in on the secret initially is precocious ten-year-old Rose, who lives with her stressed-out mother in a small apartment in Sarah's home.
Rose is a natural spy and a mimic, with the ability to repeat conversations verbatim even when she doesn't understand them.
Thanks in part to Rose's chatter, Sarah figures out the details of two other tenants' plot to kill a wealthy visiting relative.
But from Sarah's first awareness of being able to say yes and no, she must be careful. It is difficult to lead trusted friends to ask her the right questions. The frustration of not being able to warn anyone is excruciating for her, but she can't give up, especially after the schemers learn Sarah knows too much and decide to kill her, too.
As more people get in on the secret about Sarah's ability to communicate, she goes from high hopes to desperation in almost every conversation, which does get a bit too repetitious. But the book's ending was satisfying, and I really loved the uniqueness of the characters -- Sarah, a faded singing star, Rose, Rose's anxious mother, a wisecracking doctor and others who felt new to me.
One striking thing that the story keeps emphasizing is how capable and all-knowing is this severely disabled woman. Everyone ends up turning to her for help. Something to think about.
Interesting premise, well executed. Sarah, a woman in her 60’s, has a massive stroke that leaves her awake but unable to control her body mostly. Unable to talk, she is able to hear well still though. To pay for her care, her home is divided into apartments and new tenants move in. One apt downstairs has a new couple, the Phipps, that Sarah overhears talking of murdering someone through a defect in the walls that allows sound to carry to her room. She tries to figure out a way to interact with a young girl who is another new tenant to warn of the danger in the house that is not only a danger to the targeted man for the murder but others in the home. Suspenseful
In the first 20 pages or so, I was disappointed I started reading this book. With the main character confined to one room, and the entire setting being one house, I too, felt confined. I didn't do much research on the book or Patricia Carlon, and hadn't even checked the date of the book. I felt as if I was reading something that had been done before and wasn't very impressive. But as the book progressed the psyche of the characters came more into play and it became more interesting. Carlon's ability to describe character through subtleties in their behaviour was fun to think about and I started to enjoy the book. I rate it a 3 only because there is no 3.5. I later looked and saw that Carlon authored the book in 1969 and was more impressed with the plot.
Overall, I felt that Sarah was a strong character who's personality and behavior fit her age. She was patient and calculating. And contrasted next to the little girl who helps her, they make a fantastic team. I was most impressed by the book's use of language. Sarah's ability to communicate and other's ability to listen was enjoyable and thought-provoking.
Old-school atmospheric suspense story...creepiest in the beginning. The opening chapters almost made me put it down because I don't like the truly awful (some of the John Sandford books and the Dexter books are too much for me) but I would recommend this to anyone who enjoys books based on strong characters.
I learned after reading this one that Carlon was deaf, which certainly adds another layer of power to the psychological chills of her work. A quietly creepy classic.