Tag: the falling sky

The next section of “The Falling Sky” begins with a call to action, as Davi is asked to represent the Yanomami against the Brazilian government’s plan to begin excavating in the forest for gold. Mining in Latin America dates back, in some areas, to roughly 15000 BCE, but since the arrival of Columbus and Cortés, mineral resources have been co-opted by colonial powers and transnational corporations. Extractive industries, such as mining, seem to perfectly parallel the reality of settler-colonialism as experienced by humans. Forests, such as the one Davi calls home, are razed, and the land is turned hollow just so someone, somewhere, can make a product or a profit or both. This is perfectly brought together with Davi’s trip to the museum in Paris in a moment that perfectly exemplifies how extractive colonial practices work to commodify the cultures they are responsible for destroying.

I don’t know the figures for Brazil, but, in another class, I am researching colonial mining in Mexico. According to a (rather fascinating) paper by Studnicki-Gizbert and Schecter, roughly of forested area was cleared for silver mining in Mexico between 1558-1804. This area is roughly the size of Zimbabwe. These industries are truly a death sentence for any living being calling the forest home- not to mention the severe side effects that can come from living in proximity to a mine or refinery- mercury poisoning and silicosis are not hard to come by especially if the water becomes contaminated (which, it frequently does).

All of this to say that a gold mining operation is truly, deeply dangerous for Davi and the Yanomami. Apologies for the detour, now let’s get back on track. Davi agrees to speak up, of course, and from this point onwards has “never stopped talking to white people.” (pg. 311) Davi travels through Brazil, then to England and Paris to try to appeal the gold mine. During his travels, Davi also discusses how the food he ate while in Europe left him in a “ghost state,” (pg. 323) which I think speaks to how much physical difference is enduring in this experience. The experience, as he describes, manifests in physical and spiritual aches.

One part that stuck out to me was when Davi describes the spirits across Europe as not having been gone, just that no one can see them as they have lost their connection to them. I think that we (big we as in “””society,””” not necessarily small we as in our class, idk) feel this too at times, though not as acutely or as deeply as Davi describes. I do think that there can be a sense that (big) we gave something up to live in cities and have certain conveniences and access to a selection of products that no one could ever possibly own or try in one lifetime. (Don’t get me wrong, I am very attached to stuff, I just also think maybe we are doing too much all the time) This idea is also echoed in Chapter 19 when Davi talks about how some of his fellow Yanomami become enamoured with tools and good that the white people brought with them, as he continually says that merchandise, unlike people, lives a long time. (pg. 328-330)

In the “How This Book Was Written” section of The Falling Sky: Words of a Yanomami Shaman, editor/collaborator/we’ve-talked-about-whether-or-not-this-role-counts-as-authorship-but-I-remain-divided Bruce Albert describes how he and Davi Kopenawa  met, became close, and wrote this book. Albert says: “[…] Davi Kopenawa decided to use that recording to describe his view of the Yanomami’s tragic situation and to launch an appeal to me. And so he did, in his own language […]” (pg. 440) I don’t think it’s a reach to say that this is reminiscent of other texts we’ve read- I, Rigoberta Menchú especially, and Our Word is Our Weapon to a smaller degree. Albert’s background, much like Elizabeth Burgos’ own, puts him in a specific position to tell this story (though, unlike Menchú and Burgos, Kopenawa and Albert do not have an instantaneous connection). This is also discussed throughout the “Setting the Scene” section, where Albert gives us context for his and Kopenawa’s lives, work, and backgrounds. It is in this section that Albert says “the book is the result of a written and oral process that was continually shaped by the intersecting projects of the two authors.” (pg. 8) (So, I guess that answers the authorship question.)

This is further complicated as later, Albert describes his contributions as not being “direct translations” (pg. 444) of Kopenawa’s words. Rather, he states that “[m]y own editorial strategy, as far as possible, was guided by the search for a compromise that tempers the hierarchical relationship embedded in the ‘ethnographic situation’ and the textual production that flows from it.” (pg. 445) Again, not unlike other works we have discussed, it would seem that Albert is trying to impart a sense of “authenticity” or reality onto this work. However, we have no way of knowing which parts are accurate/real/authentic, and what is being played up or down for the sake of prose. I don’t necessarily think this is a bad thing or that changing certain details means we should be skeptical of the whole work. Kopenawa’s story, regardless of editorial intervention, is not one that is unfamiliar with or ungrounded in the reality of land dispossession and resource extraction.

I think my initial skepticism, or uncertainty, rests on the fact that Albert has had such an active role in the military in the past. Not that people can’t or don’t change. But I think that given the role that militaries have had in exactly the issues that Kopenawa is describing makes me wonder about his motivations and his conscience. I’m not sure how to place it.