The Underground Railroad: 08 - Indiana Autumn
Amazon StudiosTo the tune of birds chirping in the background, the eighth chapter of The Underground Railroad opens with an image of a grapevine hanging stolidly from a wooden frame and ingesting nutritious sunlight. A man walks into focus and inspects the fruit. He picks one grape, gently squeezes it to check for ripeness and puts it in his mouth. He smiles and walks away.
That smile is much more than an indication the grape is supple and sweet. It is a proud smile of someone who worked tirelessly to grow this plant and is now – proudly – collecting the fruit of his labour. It’s not a smile of someone who works a plantation. It’s a smile of someone who owns one.
This little scene is admittedly easy to miss, as the filmmakers themselves do not pay too much attention to it, but it is nevertheless a clear indication of shifting circumstances for Cora, who has now been introduced to a black community somewhere in Indiana. In contrast to what she witnessed in South Carolina, this is not a social experiment perpetrated in the name of some warped sense of progressiveness, but rather a grassroots oasis of tranquillity and normalcy built from ground up by former slaves and freedmen alike. However, as the events unfold, this may not be the final destination for Cora, because – with physical sense of danger seemingly removed – she must grapple with her own demons as well.
Admittedly, after a long odyssey of horror and dehumanization, this surely looks as though a sense of finality is nearing for the narrative as a whole, but the conversation carried on by the filmmakers beneath the story continues unabated. To this end, they quickly go on to show a young girl reciting the Declaration of Independence and follow up with a conversation about the fact a child this young is not yet fully capable of understanding the intent behind these words, but is more than able to internalize their spirit. In this community, black children – thus far deprived of opportunities in life – are educated and taken care of. They are shaped to identify as Americans, and rightfully so. This functions somewhat as a continuation of a thematic thread that first surfaced in the previous episode, which pertains to the notion of taking one’s destiny into one’s own hands. Just like it was Fanny Briggs’ responsibility to tell her own story and make sure her voice was heard, it is a job of the denizens of this community to make sure their children are educated and their people are cared for; which fundamentally reflects the spirit of libertarian individuality, a tenet of American self-determination.
What gives this idyllic picture an interesting wrinkle is the fact that this community does not exist in a vacuum. It is quickly revealed that their perceived tranquillity comes at a price and that there’s no such thing as a free lunch. The localized self-determination allowing black Americans to live in peace and grow as a community hinges on a whim of the local judge, whom they pay to keep slave hunters away. Once again, such a seemingly insignificant detail is more than enough to become a stinging commentary on the sentiment which persists in the American society in some fashion to this day. The theoretically inalienable rights bestowed upon all Americans might still not apply equally to everyone and one day could be taken away without much ado.
This subliminal anxiety is naturally picked up by Cora whose life experiences do not allow her to trust that one day the white people – who seem to hold all the cards – would not come back with a vengeance. She is permanently scarred by what she witnessed and what she suffered. She is continually haunted by the memory of the people she lost or left behind, which simply does not allow her to settle down. She remains on high alert despite her circumstances being radically different and no longer having to look over her shoulder or keep her head down. She is among her own and yet it is impossible for her to assimilate or to forget what it feels like to receive lashes from a sadistic slave owner, or to see her brethren executed in barbaric rituals.
Cora is faced with an exceedingly challenging task of reclaiming her freedom not from physical oppressors – this has seemingly been accomplished, though Ridgeway may still be in pursuit – but from the prison of her past trauma. Although it will be impossible for her to forget what she saw and experienced in her life as a slave, she must internalize it sufficiently to be able to function independently. She must take control over her demons, which begins an important process of coping and sends a key message to the viewer as well in what can only be described as a poetic and oneiric sequence of scenes. It is a mistake to try to forget one’s history. Difficult and tragic as it may be, it is an integral part of the human experience. Although the past should not fully control nor define the present, it must be paid attention to and remembered, not suppressed; which is what Cora eventually learns.
Chapter 2 - South Carolina (Review)
Chapter 3 - North Carolina (Review)
Chapter 4 - The Great Spirit (Review)
Chapter 5 - Tennessee: Exodus (Review)
