Miss Liberty’s Many Faces
Jackson Dias
It was pouring with rain on the day President Cleveland unveiled the Statue of Liberty on its island in the middle of New York’s harbour. It was October 28, 1886. The day was declared a public holiday and its unveiling turned the statue into the tallest structure (73 metres from base to torch) then existing in New York. This statistic brought a touch of glamour to a project that had long been controversial. Miss Liberty, it was rumoured, was half-undressed and indecent. Half the upright citizens of New York grumbled that the statue was a revolutionary figure likely to encourage the overthrow of the rich.
VIPs trailed reluctantly to the ceremony, which was interrupted by suffragettes who floated around the island in small boats shouting rude names at the President through megaphones. They yelled indignantly that, of the 600 guests attending the unveiling, only two were women.
The President tried to ignore the abuse, shouting out in his speech: “A stream of light shall pierce the darkness of ignorance and man’s oppression until Liberty enlightens the world.”
When the ceremony was finished everyone rushed to the boats to escape the rain. One of the boats capsized and flung gentlemen in top hats into the cold harbour. A group of gatecrashers took over another boat, in which a banquet had been laid out, and ate the lot. In the mad rush, people’s clothes were torn and the millionaire Cornelius Venderbilt had his nose bloodied.
Verbal abuse was not the first of the indignities suffered by Miss Liberty. Her head had already been put on display at the Universal Exhibition in Paris in 1878 and her right hand, grotesquely disembodied and holding the torch, had been on show in Philadelphia and New York for the previous seven years. Her dismembered body, reunited with other pieces that had been sent from France, had lain on the harbour side on its arrival in New York for nearly a year, funds for construction of the statue’s base having run out.
Despite this sorry start Liberty Enlightening the World was a woman of distinction. But what did the New Yorkers care? As far as they were concerned Miss Liberty was a Frenchwoman. Meanwhile, however, immigrants were arriving from Europe by the boatload, and the first glimpse they saw of America was the statue. They assumed she was American as apple pie and word spread. Suddenly, Miss Liberty was no longer a French revolutionary but an American superstar, a symbol of immigration and escape to a new and free life in America.
But nothing could be truly American until it was turned into kitsch and made profitable. Souvenir shops have been crammed with Liberty memorabilia - miniature statues, tea towels, postcards, plates, towels and even toilet rolls with the famous face printed on every sheet. Miss Liberty sells tours of the Big Apple, adorns number plates and street signs. She has been used in political cartoons, charity appeals and in the marketing of everything from cheese to perfume, from frisbees to pens.
Miss Liberty may have many faces but whatever she represents, she certainly doesn’t seem to have lost her sense of humour.
It was pouring with rain on the day President Cleveland unveiled the Statue of Liberty on its island in the middle of New York’s harbour. It was October 28, 1886. The day was declared a public holiday and its unveiling turned the statue into the tallest structure (73 metres from base to torch) then existing in New York. This statistic brought a touch of glamour to a project that had long been controversial. Miss Liberty, it was rumoured, was half-undressed and indecent. Half the upright citizens of New York grumbled that the statue was a revolutionary figure likely to encourage the overthrow of the rich.
VIPs trailed reluctantly to the ceremony, which was interrupted by suffragettes who floated around the island in small boats shouting rude names at the President through megaphones. They yelled indignantly that, of the 600 guests attending the unveiling, only two were women.
The President tried to ignore the abuse, shouting out in his speech: “A stream of light shall pierce the darkness of ignorance and man’s oppression until Liberty enlightens the world.”
When the ceremony was finished everyone rushed to the boats to escape the rain. One of the boats capsized and flung gentlemen in top hats into the cold harbour. A group of gatecrashers took over another boat, in which a banquet had been laid out, and ate the lot. In the mad rush, people’s clothes were torn and the millionaire Cornelius Venderbilt had his nose bloodied.
Verbal abuse was not the first of the indignities suffered by Miss Liberty. Her head had already been put on display at the Universal Exhibition in Paris in 1878 and her right hand, grotesquely disembodied and holding the torch, had been on show in Philadelphia and New York for the previous seven years. Her dismembered body, reunited with other pieces that had been sent from France, had lain on the harbour side on its arrival in New York for nearly a year, funds for construction of the statue’s base having run out.
Despite this sorry start Liberty Enlightening the World was a woman of distinction. But what did the New Yorkers care? As far as they were concerned Miss Liberty was a Frenchwoman. Meanwhile, however, immigrants were arriving from Europe by the boatload, and the first glimpse they saw of America was the statue. They assumed she was American as apple pie and word spread. Suddenly, Miss Liberty was no longer a French revolutionary but an American superstar, a symbol of immigration and escape to a new and free life in America.
But nothing could be truly American until it was turned into kitsch and made profitable. Souvenir shops have been crammed with Liberty memorabilia - miniature statues, tea towels, postcards, plates, towels and even toilet rolls with the famous face printed on every sheet. Miss Liberty sells tours of the Big Apple, adorns number plates and street signs. She has been used in political cartoons, charity appeals and in the marketing of everything from cheese to perfume, from frisbees to pens.
Miss Liberty may have many faces but whatever she represents, she certainly doesn’t seem to have lost her sense of humour.
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