The Underground Railroad is a historical fiction novel by American author Colson Whitehead, published by Doubleday in 2016. The alternate history novel tells the story of Cora and Caesar, two slaves in the southeastern United States during the 19th century, who make a bid for freedom from their Georgia plantation by following the Underground Railroad, which the novel depicts as a rail transport system with safe houses and secret routes. The book was a critical and commercial success, hitting the bestseller lists and winning several literary awards, including the Pulitzer Prize for Fiction, the National Book Award for Fiction, the Arthur C. Clarke Award, and the 2017 Andrew Carnegie Medal for Excellence. A TV series adaptation written and directed by Barry Jenkins was released in May 2021.
Review of 'The underground railroad' on 'Goodreads'
4 stars
"[...] E a América também é uma ilusão, a maior de todas. A raça branca acredita - acredita do fundo do coração - que é direito dela tomar a terra. Matar índios. Guerrear. Escravizar seus irmãos. Se há qualquer justiça no mundo, esta nação não deve existir, pois suas fundações são assassinato, roubo e crueldade. E, no entanto, aqui estamos."
In 'The Underground Railroad', de Colson Whitehead.
Review of 'The underground railroad' on 'Goodreads'
5 stars
Colson Whitehead's The Underground Railroad is a fantastical parade of horrors filled with complex characters that lay the true nightmare of American ideology bare while also exposing the force of ambition in the face of a brutal dehumanization.
Whitehead pulled no punches with Ridgeway, a slave catcher in possession of the protagonist, Cara. On page 181, Whitehead preforms what I call a brain depressurization: the author leads you to a conclusion with a such stealth that revealing the truth causes a cascading realization that leaves you gulping for air. This is Whitehead's horrifying summary of American ideology[spoilers].
“Of course not—it’s nothing. Better weep for one of those burned cornfields, or this steer swimming in our soup. You do what’s required to survive.” He wiped his lips. “It’s true, though, your complaint. We come up with all sorts of fancy talk to hide things. Like in the newspapers nowadays, all the …
Colson Whitehead's The Underground Railroad is a fantastical parade of horrors filled with complex characters that lay the true nightmare of American ideology bare while also exposing the force of ambition in the face of a brutal dehumanization.
Whitehead pulled no punches with Ridgeway, a slave catcher in possession of the protagonist, Cara. On page 181, Whitehead preforms what I call a brain depressurization: the author leads you to a conclusion with a such stealth that revealing the truth causes a cascading realization that leaves you gulping for air. This is Whitehead's horrifying summary of American ideology[spoilers].
“Of course not—it’s nothing. Better weep for one of those burned cornfields, or this steer swimming in our soup. You do what’s required to survive.” He wiped his lips. “It’s true, though, your complaint. We come up with all sorts of fancy talk to hide things. Like in the newspapers nowadays, all the smart men talking about Manifest Destiny. Like it’s a new idea. You don’t know what I’m talking about, do you?” Ridgeway asked.
"Cora sat back. 'More words to pretty things up.”
“It means taking what is yours, your property, whatever you deem it to be. And everyone else taking their assigned places to allow you to take it. Whether it’s red men or Africans, giving up themselves, giving of themselves, so that we can have what’s rightfully ours. The French setting aside their territorial claims. The British and the Spanish slinking away."
“My father liked his Indian talk about the Great Spirit,” Ridgeway said. “All these years later, I prefer the American spirit, the one that called us from the Old World to the New, to conquer and build and civilize. And destroy that what needs to be destroyed. To lift up the lesser races. If not lift up, subjugate. And if not subjugate, exterminate. Our destiny by divine prescription—the American imperative.”
To be abundantly clear, Whitehead doesn't paint American colonization in a flattering light here.