A gripping story set in the late 1960s, centered on Lynnie, a girl of weak mind; a deaf-mute boy of color known only as "Number Forty-two"; and Martha, a widow who will take in and raise as her own granddaughter little Julia, born from their love.
Lynnie and Number Forty-two escape from "the School," where they have grown up, and take refuge in Martha's home. As police prepare to return Lynnie to the institution, she whispers a single word in Martha's ear: "Hide her." Martha will care for that tiny bundle with devotion and determination, hoping one day to reunite her with her parents—until the story reaches its poetic close.
The narrative unfolds on multiple fronts, never losing sight of any of the main characters. We follow Number Forty-two's escape, his encounters and thoughts, his history. We witness Lynnie's life inside the institution and the relationships that sustain her there. We see how ethical, cultural, and social principles regarding disability begin to evolve and take hold—and how certain institutions eventually close as a result.
The novelist drew inspiration from a true event and knows disability intimately from her own family's experience. This is a book worth reading even though our understanding of disability has advanced considerably and the situation of institutions for disabled people has, mercifully, changed dramatically. Yet certain histories must not be forgotten.
Above all, The Light Breath of Dawn has the profound merit of giving voice to those who cannot speak—of sharing the inner thoughts of someone dismissed as "weak of mind," someone who lives in shadow and silence.
Rita Massi, 2014