Page 367
One paragraph, two sentences, no date, no characters: a postcard of the Statue of Liberty in New New York's harbor. The book has sent these single-paragraph interstitials before (the product-catalog flash on p. 60 was one); don't hunt for a plot — read it as a snapshot of the era and move on.
Terms, in order of appearance
- NNYC (p. 367) — New New York City; upstate has been "New New York" since at least p. 312.
- the Lady's real cargo (p. 367) — the actual statue holds a torch aloft and a law-tablet dated July 4, 1776 in the crook of her arm.
- pitons (p. 367) — real climbing hardware: metal spikes driven into rock (or, here, a national monument).
After you read: three things
1. Inventory what's been swapped. Sun for a crown is Bartholdi's original; the "huge photo album" sits where the tablet of law goes, and the raised arm — the torch arm — "holds aloft a product." The sentence never says which product, and never says the words torch or tablet; the substitution is left for you to price.
2. The changeover date is doing quiet work. The product rotates "each 1 Jan." You know from pp. 223–26 what else in this world rotates annually by corporate sponsor. The paragraph doesn't connect the two; it just leaves the date lying there.
3. Note the tone: "brave men." Two sentences, and one of them spends its adjective admiring the piton-and-crane crews. The satire works entirely by deadpan — nothing in the paragraph admits anything is wrong.
Written only from this scene and earlier pages. Safe to read before you start.