I’m sure no one really needs to be reminded of this, as the media hype has been as pervasive and exhausting as ever, but in the interest of completeness I’ll just mention that tomorrow, April 30th, is Amber Day, the worldwide celebration of Roger Zelazny’s literary masterpiece The Chronicles of Amber. April 30th, of course, being the date in the books on which a mysterious individual makes annual attempts to murder Corwin’s son, Merlin. Billions — possibly even trillions — of people all over the globe will begin their annual re-reading of this classic, thrilled once again to relive the adventures of Corwin as he awakens with amnesia in a hospital on the shadow world Earth, and gradually discovers his true identity as a Prince of Amber.
This year, the Swiss Army will be taking to the Alps to stage a full-scale reenactment of Corwin’s doomed battle up the steps of Mount Kolvir, and Buddhist Monks in Tibet will be having their eyeballs burnt out with hot pokers, in commemoration of Corwin’s blind years in the dungeons of Amber. As I write, a full-scale recreation of the Pattern of Amber is being constructed in Central Park, which tomorrow thousands of pilgrims will walk, hoping to gain power over shadow. Of course, to give a comprehensive listing of all the festivities would be prohibitive, and might spoil the story for those individuals who have yet to experience the wonder of Amber. Yes, yes, sadly it’s true that such tragic individuals do exist, albeit only in some of the most wretched, backward, provincial corners of the world. Sadder still is the fact that each day literally dozens of people die having not read Amber, their lives utterly wasted. Speaking for myself, I can hardly wait until the stroke of midnight when I will crack open my well-worn tome and begin anew with the familiar words: It was starting to end, after what seemed most of eternity to me …
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