Up the Serra Pelada Mine, thousands move. On the subway, hundreds move. From Senegal, to Morocco, to Latvia, Eggers’ Will and Hand move. I sprinted across campus to write about art. What I sought, I don’t know. It
didn’t matter. I just had to get there. Searching fanatically throughout the museum, tossing my backpack haphazardly into the closet, I entered into that abstract realm of expression lumped into the category of “art”.
- Why are you here?
- All I want is some art.
- What are you doing?
- I’m desperate.
I found it. It’s golden. It’s beautiful. It’s fast. It moves. Finally, something that can catch up. Something that moves at my pace. These were the thoughts that raced through my head on that gorgeous September afternoon. I found my Mecca in a Sebastiao Salgado photograph, “Going Up the Serra Pelada Mine” (Brazil, 1986). Something about it compelled me to slow down, open my folded chair, and observe. Something ethereal, something abstract. And at the epicenter of this overwhelming force was the photograph. As the silence of the museum beckoned me to sit, something drained from my body and seemed to unite with the photograph. The art had stolen my velocity. And
in the awful peace of that moment, I discovered slowness. I had made the realization that Salgado and Eggers had made. Sebastiao Salgado’s “Going Up the Serra Pelada Mine” and Dave Eggers’ You Shall
Know Our Velocity are acute observations of mankind’s coping with suffering and penchant for motion. We run from suffering, we run from pain, we run to survive, we run from death. We run because it is the only way to divorce ourselves from life’s anguish and suffering. It is these two works that best illustrate this theme. Salgado’s manipulation of light and movement within the photograph and Eggers’ description of Will’s pain and desire to flee from it provide a poignant commentary on modern culture’s methods for coping with misfortune and suffering.
Salgado’s manipulation of light accentuates the plight of the laborer but also suggests a possibility for salvation. In this mass of soot and filth, the human being is forgotten amongst a background of dim light and a bleak
atmosphere. The laborers of the mine suffer from conditions not unlike the manual slave labor that drove construction of the pyramids or the labor camps of Les Misérables. The dirt and dust so radiates from the scene that the observer can hardly distinguish between each individual’s work sack, clothing, and facial features. It comes as no surprise that the photographs are taken in a surreal black and white: the mining pits of Serra Pelada are no place for light, for color, for life. The bottom of the photograph is almost black, thematically conveying the lifelessness of the floor of the mining pit. Yet, hope remains: a glimmer of bright light emanating from a source above and outside the photograph seems to shed a light of optimism on the dreary, bleak life of the miners of Serra Pelada. Falling on the backs of the laborers, it symbolizes the promise of a better life for them and inspires their resilience to the destruction and suffering taking place beside them. However, the light source is outside the photograph. It may be an eternity before any of these laborers ever experience the fruits of this light’s promise.
Motion is another key element of Salgado’s work. The photograph depicts the laborers in action, trudging skyward to escape the pain and suffering below. There is a sense of dissatisfaction, or even determination in the laborers who can no longer put up with the circumstances of their lives. These circumstances are best represented by the flimsy, shoddy excuses for ladders to which they cling. Their very existence lies in jeopardy, one false move away
from a deadly fall to the cave below. The desperation of the situation necessitates motion. The crowd crawls upward as fast as possible, attempting to temporarily forget about the apparent hopelessness of their situation. And it is all done in solitude. No character converses, no worker commiserates. Though the motion of the group suggests solidarity, each individual is utterly alone. Yet, as Salgado takes us to the world of the bleak, of inhumanity, and of suffering, we commiserate as our thoughts direct us inward. This tragic situation acts as a catharsis of our own internal sufferings, our own dissatisfaction with our lives, and the apparent hopelessness of the surrounding situation. Be it Oedipus Rex, the Gospels, or any work of human expression, tragedy acts as our personal emotional cleanser. We recognize that our lives hover in a delicate balance and can be rocked by merely the slightest of misfortunes. Our lives are also surrounded by a darkness manifested in suffering. Most importantly, we realize that we too are running, climbing, trudging, fleeing the very darkness that is the cause of our
suffering. In this life, we run. Literature uses words to express this same idea. Dave Eggers’ You Shall Know
Our Velocity! immerses us in the inner-consciousness of protagonist Will Chmlielewski, a young adult plagued by the death of his friend Jack. He too suffers like the laborers of Serra Pelada, both from the physical beating he
received in Oconomowoc and from the mental anguish he receives from the loss of Jack. Physically, it’s almost worse than the depiction in Salgado’s work: Will survives the beating only to feel as though his lungs “had been doused with lighter fluid and set ablaze” (Eggers 90). As he endures the beating, he mentally cries out “Where the fuck was Hand?” (Eggers 90) only to remain unanswered. Defenseless, Will is forced to suffer from forces outside of his control exactly similar to the societal structures and poverty that enchain the laborers of Serra Pelada. Yet the suffering for Will is primarily of the mind: he simply cannot escape the unbearable sadness of his memories, suffering from a malaise not unlike post-traumatic stress disorder. This unbearable mental torment is best depicted in the scenes where Eggers opens Will’s stream-of-consciousness to the reader. Constantly, he vents back and forth in a never ending psychological conflict that leaves him in complete mental anguish. His ultimate desire is to “remove [his] head from its casing and throw it into the world” (Eggers 154). Will, like Salgado’s laborers, suffers
from an inability to cope with the mental anguish begotten by suffering. Neither Will Chmlielewski nor the laborers of Serra Pelada are strangers to suffering. Will’s only method for coping with this disaster involves motion. Will and Hand travel the world stopping anywhere from Rwanda, to Latvia, or even Morocco with the apparent altruistic goal of having direct contact with and providing financial help for the poor. Yet the true reason for this voyage is not in the gift giving, for both he and Hand admit that it doesn’t turn out as hoped. Will is running away from his suffering. He realizes that the only way he can forget the pain of the loss of Jack is to completely occupy his thoughts with distractions, preferably bombarding him at maximum speed. Upon slipping into the realms of his deepest thoughts, Will “climbed [his] own stairs and ran across my valley, escaping the coming information” (Eggers 143). Metaphorically, he is running from the coming onset of his memory of Jack filed away in the “library” of his mind. Motion, speed, velocity: this is how one tries to alleviate personal suffering. Salgado’s photography seems to suggest this same idea. Just as Will tries to escape his torment, the laborers climb to flee the depths of the mine. However, both Salgado and Eggers recognize that this suffering is only temporarily shut out of the mind. The laborers will slip back into a reality and again experience the awful suffering so prevalent in their lives.
Throughout most of Eggers’ novel, Will is unable to control his thoughts and overcome the grief of his lost companion. For though the “Jumping People” of South America are fast, they will never overcome the weight of the grief and pain within their mountainous soul and achieve flight. And though they may proclaim “You Shall Know Our Velocity!”, their tribe was ultimately defeated and assimilated into a Spanish-ruled South American culture. It is Will who finally recognizes his need to transcend the temporary relief that escapism brings him and come to terms with Jack’s death. Though the exact moment of his discovery is unclear, the novel’s ending provides proof of his relief from suffering. He experiences a renewal in the final baptismal scene symbolic of cleansing waters removing him of torment. For once, he seemed suspended in time, no longer victim to the speed of modern life, and became entirely immersed in the present. He jumps into the pool, “taking it all in” (Eggers 400), and allows the present to alleviate his suffering. And “for two more interminable months”, Will “lived” (Eggers 400). And in this discovery of slowness, I finally realized that I had just experienced Will’s revival. While examining Salgado’s photo, I forgot my own misfortunes, and became immersed in the present. And so it goes.

Sources:

Eggers, Dave. You Shall Know Our Velocity. San Francisco: McSweeney’s Books,
July 2003.

"Backs, the Serra Pelada Mine, Brazil, 1986."
Sebastiao Salgado. Brazilian, born 1944
Gelatin silver print.
On exhibit in the Snite Museum of Art, University of Notre Dame, August 28 -
November 20, 2005