This is a statue at the easternmost point of the United States. The islands in the photo's background are part of Canada. The plaque reads,
"This statue was built in 2001 for Fox Television's filming of its reality mini-series, Murder in Small Town X. Restored in 2005 with donated funds and services, the statue is now a tribute to Angel Juarbe, Jr., the New York City fireman who won the $250,000 grand prize in the mini-series and soon after lost his life as one of the first responders to the World Trade Center attack on September 11, 2001."
This perfect amalgamated symbol of our national identity is holding a Pacific rather than an Atlantic salmon, which has engedered considerable controversy among Eastport residents. But as a member of the Chamber of Commerce cheerfully summarized, "I wouldn't compare it to serious sculpture, but it has an economic value to the town. Tourists love it."1
We have reached the Vertovian vanishing point, sacrificing reality in order to portray it. I propose we read him as a kind of televisual ambassador, bearing the formerly prosperous port town an offering from the birthplace of his own industry on the opposite coast. A consolotation for post-industrialism. Perhaps his disportionately short legs wore away during the walk. Furthermore, his refurbishment took place in Nebraska.
Safe to say the statue's re-dedication ("now a monument to") was motivated by the performer's death in September 11th, an event widely theorized as having its precedent in television and film.
I am sure also that for many readers, the phrase "won the $250,000 grand prize in the mini-series and soon after lost his life" has a cinematic "before he could even..." in the negative space.
Uncanny. The hero who merged the image and reality of the town goes on to become a hero'in the event that merged the country with its image, meanwhile "sacrificing," to again use the cynical vocabulary of that event, an American dream of enjoying a large, fortuitous prize. So many heros made similar sacrifices that day, a coincidence demanding further thought.
That statue may be the easternmost thing in the U.S., and as the world is understood to be read from left to right, it is our universal gesture of greeting and warning.
It is in part apparent in the photograph above that Eastport is not doing terribly well; the statue's cheery absurdity makes a noticeable contrast with the town's melancholy.
1. Esposito, Susan. "Fisherman Statue in Eastport Maine Focus of Restoration Efforts". http://www.remyc.com/eastport_fisherman.html. Accessed 5.29.2008.
2. ibid.
