Easter, no bunny

The great stone heads of Easter Island. To my mind, one of the most iconic physical legacies of ancient times. Up there with the pyramids of Egypt and Mexico, the Parthenon, the Coliseum of Rome, and others. So why am I sad when I see the heads anymore? After some soul-searching, I have decided that the preservation of them, and especially the restoration of them to their original state, is behind my malaise.

The condition in which they were discovered in modern times was lonely, askew, and half-buried on hillsides. Hollow eyes gazing up to the sky. Restored, they are uncovered from the hillsides to reveal silly E.T. bodies with vestigal limbs. Even more ridiculous are the hats, painted bright red, which are then plopped down on them. Then the coup de grace--big googly eyes smacked back onto the (formerly) inscrutable faces.

So to me, all of the restoration of the statues, the replacing of them on rebuilt platforms, the explaining as to how they were created and transferred, is all to the detriment of the experience. The cachet of mystery is stripped from them, and they are revealed to have been something less than we imagined.

Hopefully this trend doesn't extend to the other antiquites previously mentioned, because I don't really want to see piles of dismembered bodies at the base of the Chitzen Itza temple, with realistic blood splashed down the steps. What if it is determioned that the pyramids in Egypt were originally painted in circus-colored polka dots?

Oy...