By Andrew Nurse
I admit it. The first time I saw the Evangeline “memorial” (if imaginary people can have memories) at Grand-Pré, I was impressed. It was beautiful. Located in the Nova Scotia Annapolis Valley near New Minas where my son’s soccer team was playing in a tournament, it made for what seemed like a natural stop for what had turned into a family vacation.
Grand-Pré was, of course, a site of Acadian settlement destroyed — along most other Acadian communities in Nova Scotia — by the Expulsion of 1755. The site has its own history, some of which has been related by Ian McKay and Robin Bates’ In the Province of History. The Annapolis Valley was an early and important site of historically-oriented tourism as middle-class Americans flocked north after the publication of Longfellow’s Evangeline in search of a picturesque, almost mystic and tragic land.
Today it is an important stop for tourists visiting the region and it is easy to see why. The manicured lawns, stone church, and striking statue lend it an almost spiritual quality, something that might not be accidental. Initially, the federal government was not all that keen on commemorating the Deportation but today Grand-Pré has become a UNESCO sanctioned World Heritage Site.
It is easy to see this site as another example of the antimodernist invented traditions placed in the service of consumer capitalism. But, that would not be wrong. There is something deeply disturbing about tourism at Grand-Pré. But, I will argue in this post, there is something else we should be considering when we look at sites like Grand-Pré that commemorate, mark, memorialize — whatever language we seek to use — deeply tragic historical events. That is: the way in which sites like Grand-Pré work to establish an ethical or moral distance between the past and the present. There are both troubling and important implications to this moral distance. Continue reading →