Backlands (74 page)

“This objection—which places in question the reputation of my critic—goes against all the findings of modern meteorology! Since the general laws that determine climate come from astronomical relationships, it follows that the undulations of the isotherms follow the parallels and thus are an instance of such violation. We shall not try to give examples of the particular or secondary causes of climatic variation in different countries. We could find excellent examples from Santos, whose equatorial climate is an anomaly in a latitude above the tropics, to ice-covered Greenland opposite the benign coast of Norway. Boutmy’s recent work on the psychology of the English brilliantly observes that their land on the fifty-second parallel has a temperature similar to that of the thirty-second parallel of the United States. If one follows on a map the isotherm of zero, starting from frigid Iceland, one will follow a capricious curve southward, in the direction of England, without ever touching that country. Then one will twist back to the extreme north of Norway, after which one will again return south and in the cold months come near to Paris and Vienna, which despite their much lower latitudes are linked to the frozen polar regions. The traveler who follows our coast from Rio to Bahia in the direction of the equator will also follow a line that geometrically reflects the constancy of the climate along the way. This is seen in the lush forests that turn this stretch of seaboard into a botanical garden. Should he at any point stop and turn west, along a parallel, the line that astronomically determines climatic uniformity, he will have gone just a few miles before he comes upon habitats that are completely different. Are these examples, which we could multiply if we wished, not obvious instances of the violation of general climatic laws?” (Putnam, 480; Bosi, 396)

“The same critic finds another contradiction in my work. He says: ‘. . . on page 70 [of the earlier edition] I encounter the definitive statement:
We do not have a unified race. We may never have one.
And on page 616 [of the earlier edition] our author declares that it was
the very core of our nationality, the bedrock of our race
that was attacked at Canudos.’ In this span of 546 pages (616 minus 70) it might be reasonable to expect a few seeming contradictions. However, anyone who has read my work on our racial heritage will recall that I have said we do not have uniformity of race but that I do find in the backlands type an ethnic subcategory that has been liberated from a borrowed civilization that would hinder his evolution. This is the same as saying that in the Brazilian of mixed blood I find a stable element similar to the integrating molecule in the initial stage of crystallization. It then follows that since I believe we are destined to national unity, I would be able to see in the sturdy
caboclo
the seed of our future or the bedrock of our race. “The bedrock . . . This is a suggestive metaphor. The truth is that our racial background, like a block of granite, is formed from three principal elements: clay, decomposed feldspar in various colorations, and bits of mica. Beyond that is the dust of pulverized quartz. From a distance the hill has the irregular shape of glaciated rock, while all around is a mixture of these elements, with the addition of others. All of these form a fertile land that is extremely complex and atypical of the terrain. Under the surface layer of the soil is a nucleus of hard, solid rock. The topsoil has been formed of elements that are scattered and mixed in a highly diversified manner because the exposed top layer retains even foreign matter that is carried by the winds. The deeper one digs, the closer one comes to the core.

“The same thing happens with respect to race, as we distance ourselves from the cities of the coast and make for the hamlets of the backlands. At first, there is a wide range of skin colors and human types. The Brazilian cannot be singled out from this intricate mix of white, black, and mulatto, which carries the blood of all races in its veins in every possible combination. We are just scratching the surface of what defines us racially. But as we travel deep into the backlands, we encounter the first stable groupings—the
caipira
, or backwoodsman, of the south and the
tabaréu
, or rustic of the north. The pure white, the pure Negro, and the pure Indian become a rarity. As we continue on, these nuances disappear and we find greater uniformity in physical and moral characteristics. To summarize, we have struck bedrock in finding the man of the backlands.” (Putnam, 481; Bosi, 396-97)

“Our critic has yet another objection: ‘If he says that what we faced was “an unbidden armed insurrection, of a dead society, brought back to life by a madman,” then how can we have been attacking “the bedrock of our race”?’ In referring to a ‘dead society’ I was making a reference to an unusual situation. Backlands society was being corrupted by a group of insurgents. The comparisons that I draw with other peoples in similar situations underscore its unique character. In my other reference I was making a general statement and not one directed to a specific time, 1897, and place, Canudos. We find an appropriate simile in isomeric phenomena, in which identical bodies, with similar atoms in similar arrangements, can exhibit the most diverse properties. If viewed in this light, and I hope our scientific community will not become too annoyed and accuse me of obscurantist thinking, I see in the
jagunço
the isomeric body of the
sertanejo
. Antônio Conselheiro represented an ‘integration of various social traits, which were not readily distinguished when lost in the crowd.’ He is not a simple case of individual pathology. He is a product of an unusual set of circumstances that led to his becoming a synthesis of all the mistakes, beliefs, and superstitions that form the foundation of our character.”

“This statement has also been controversial. Pompous amateurs who fear for every leaf that is trampled by my scientific dilettantism (for shame!) have objected as a body to the false doctrine [
sic
] of this book. They preach at me: ‘The
caatinga
(bad forest) is not the result of the terrain but of the dry air, whereas the
caatanduvas
are the chlorotic growths that result from the porosity and dryness of the soil’ (
Revista do Centro de Sciencias, Letras e Artes
). This is a charming distinction that begins with disagreement with the Tupi language and ends up by challenging the Portuguese language.
Caatinga
(bad forest!) . . .
caatanduva
(sick forest!) . . . chlorotic growths . . . Chlorosis in a plant means, in the vernacular, its ‘blanching’ (etiolation); that is to say, a change due to insufficient light. This is very strange, indeed, since they grow in regions of Brazil subject to a blazing sun! As for the famous ‘doctrine,’ I will say a few words. A rigorous study of our flora has yet to be conducted in Brazil. I have noted that the distinguishing characteristic of the
caatinga
(white forest) is a rarefied and stunted thicket (
cerrado
). The
caatanduva
(sickly forest) looks like a desert scrubland. I used the phrase in question because the flora that we reference here, unlike that which prevails in the backlands, really did look to me as I described it. (Putnam, 482; Bosi, 398)