You know, not a year goes by I don’t hear someone fuss about Kwanzaa, but as I’ve been nibbling away at this year’s chocolate bunny, I’ve come to realize that Easter really takes the cake as far as confusing holidays.
The turning point was when I started looking at it this way:
If someone framed a fictional world around the premise of a hero that was brutally sacrificed to save his followers, only to be immortalized and celebrated religiously centuries later, no one would bat an eye. Hell, I have nine of those in The Wellspring. But if this world instituted a religious celebration that includes ritualized chicken egg-dying, egg-stuffing, egg-hiding, and egg-hunting, that would start to ring a bit tinny in my ears as a reader…add in the fact that a small non-monotreme is apparently responsible for these things, and that the characters create and devour delicious images and icons of said creature, and I would start making morbid comparisons to Through the Looking Glass, Willy Wonka, and The Velveteen Rabbit. The allegory would be buried so deep that some teacher would start assigning it alongside ‘Lord of the Flies’ and ‘Catcher in the Rye’ to middle school children for their English comp classes.
That would never happen, though. As we all know, the only person to ever get rabbits right in literature was Brian Jacques, and they kicked a lot more ass than anything assigned in middle school lit classes.
Easter (the Christian version, anyway) is stranger than fiction, to be sure, but my chocolate bunny is delicious. I think I’ll get back to it.