Under the Whispering Door

By this section of the book, Wallace’s character has undergone significant change. When he meets Alan, Wallace is able to see how terrible he acted toward the others in the first few days after his death. Like Wallace was, Alan is a nuisance to those around him, but the difference between them shows in Alan’s intense anger and his violent outbursts. While Wallace was also in denial about The Transitory Nature of Life and the tea shop family’s role in his transition, his anger was driven by fear and an unwillingness to accept that everything he’d worked for all his life had been so quickly rendered meaningless. Alan, on the other hand, is driven by the pain of being ignored as he died, and he wants to hurt others the way he has been hurt. Wallace feels hypocritical when tells Alan, in no uncertain terms, what his choices are; he knows that like Alan, he thought there was a way to escape death, and that the tea shop family was simply refusing to listen. Wallace’s acceptance of his found family and everyone’s faith in Hugo makes them oblivious to the harm Alan can, and does, cause.

Wallace’s growth is made most clear by his effort to protect Nancy from Alan, even though he had been insistent on knowing what she was doing with Hugo just weeks before. Not only was Wallace trying to protect Hugo’s feelings by stopping Alan, but he knew that bothering Nancy after what she had gone through would be objectively wrong. This reveals a major shift in his values; he is not the same man who fired his paralegal over a small mistake when her life was already spiraling. Wallace hasn’t changed completely—he doesn’t trust the transition process the way Hugo and the others do, and with his preconceived notions of the afterlife shattered, Wallace finds himself bereft of religious faith. However, in exchange, he’s come to trust those in the tea shop. When he accuses Mei of being too trusting of the Manager and possibly having the opportunity to save people like Alan before they die, it doesn’t take much convincing for Wallace to realize that he is in the wrong, and he goes to think about what he has done quietly without taking it out on anyone else. Not only has Wallace learned to care for others, but he is also able to acknowledge his mistakes with maturity and grace.

Memories take on a new power in these chapters as Wallace encounters Cameron up close for the second time. Cameron’s memories are more poignant with the added context of what happened to him; they are also the first sign that the Manager is either not all-knowing, or a liar, as Cameron clearly has not lost his humanity after all. The scene between Cameron and Wallace emphasizes Found Family and the Importance of Connection, as it is only through Cameron reaching out to Wallace that the tea shop family understands he can be saved after all. This sets up the plot for the novel’s climax, which ties Wallace’s connection to Hugo and the others with the idea of rescuing Husks.

The topic of free will also resurfaces with the Manager’s first official appearance. Once again, the Manager represents a contrast between respecting free will and demonstrating unimaginable power; he promises not to force Wallace through the door, but he makes Alan transition with nothing more than an idle comment about Alan’s rage. This isn’t dissimilar to his treatment of Hugo’s former Reaper, indicating that the Manager primarily cares about disruptions to his routine. This notion is strengthened by the Manager’s reasoning for giving Wallace a time limit: He believes that Wallace is distracting Hugo from his duties, which throws a wrench in his carefully controlled system. Although he does not literally send Wallace through the door like he does with Alan, the Manager still takes away Wallace’s free will and forces him to face The Transitory Nature of Life even though he is not yet ready. The fact that the Manager does not seem to understand that Wallace lingers out of his developing love for Hugo further proves that, while the Manager may preside over life and death, he cannot truly understand human behavior.

Wallace and Hugo’s relationship takes a turn into tragic romance as the two finally confess that, were things different, they would want to be together. Just before confessing to Hugo that he wished he would have met him when he was still alive, Wallace claims that “honesty was a weapon” (420). When Wallace confesses his feelings for Hugo, he uses honesty as a weapon “upon himself, and he [is] flayed open because of it, nerve endings exposed” (420). This is a different sort of painful truth than many of the others in the novel, such as the fact of Wallace’s death or the reality of Mei’s family’s rejection of her. In this way, Klune shows how Wallace’s open vulnerability is something painful; however, this use of honesty eventually makes him and his relationship with Hugo stronger. Emboldened by the knowledge that their feelings are mutual and that he has a set end date for his time with him, Wallace is finally able to shed the remnants of his past, as well as his fear of transitioning, and demonstrate just how much the power of connection has changed him.