DOI issue:
Nr. 333 (February 1925)
DOI article:Joyce, Perrin: Ambèr-Indian fairyland
DOI Page / Citation link:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.19984#0126
mceRriAaoriAL
DETAIL OF A CEILING CLOTH FROM AMBER
Amber? When his energy as an architect had
spent itself, when his desire to continue the work
of his fathers had congealed into an interest in
mathematics, is it not better that he should have
carried his new enthusiasm into a new city? Had
he remained in Amber, he might have planted his
scientific laboratories in the very heart of the
palace. He might have torn down palaces to
widen streets and built a silly observatory beside
the Jess Munder. Had he gone on in this wa}r, we
should now find in Amber open plumbing instead
of bronze conduits and marble basins decorated
with lapis. There would probably be elevators
instead of those intricate stairways that lead
nowhere; and indirect lighting to brighten up the
zenana. There might be an art-brick railroad
station, with posters and a char-a-banc to take
travelers sight-seeing. Instead of a peacock irra-
diating the deserted streets, there would be gas-
lights; and in place of the monkeys overrunning
the empty buildings, there would be an official
guide with an itching palm. It is even possible
that a friendly protectorate might, attracted by
the scientific importance of the city, have erected
a Victorian post-office or a group of government
buildings. Such things have been known to
happen with results beside which the ruin of an
earthquake is pleasant to contemplate. Let us
thank Jey Singh then that, at just the right
moment, he stayed his hand and left Amber to
sleep in drowsy beauty and everlasting peace.
In the center of the city itself, there is a basin
filled with spring water; and in this basin is a
lingam, the symbol of the god Siva. An ancient
prophecy has said that when the water completely
covers the lingam, Amber will disappear. As late
as 1876, there were still a few inches of the lingam
uncovered, but before long it will be hidden under
the water, and then we shall know if the prophet
spoke truly. But even if all that is material in
Amber perishes, if doors rot and marble troughs
and arches crumble, if traceries and inlays vanish
and frescoes grow dull, Amber cannot die. The
rich and varied designs of her painted curtains
survive in modern Oriental carpets and pottery.
All the removable treasures that trickled through
the hands of native dealers into museums the
world over will be more carefully preserved than
they could be in Amber itself. And as her palaces
crumble, she will look more than ever like an
enchanted city. When at last the water in the
basin completely covers the lingam, visitors,
standing in the midst of the ruins, will say to
themselves: Here stood Amber, Queen of the
Mountains—the city whose smallest houses were
palaces.
Pbolograpbs by courtesy oj tbc Brooklyn Museum
three eighty-six
FEBRUARY 1925
DETAIL OF A CEILING CLOTH FROM AMBER
Amber? When his energy as an architect had
spent itself, when his desire to continue the work
of his fathers had congealed into an interest in
mathematics, is it not better that he should have
carried his new enthusiasm into a new city? Had
he remained in Amber, he might have planted his
scientific laboratories in the very heart of the
palace. He might have torn down palaces to
widen streets and built a silly observatory beside
the Jess Munder. Had he gone on in this wa}r, we
should now find in Amber open plumbing instead
of bronze conduits and marble basins decorated
with lapis. There would probably be elevators
instead of those intricate stairways that lead
nowhere; and indirect lighting to brighten up the
zenana. There might be an art-brick railroad
station, with posters and a char-a-banc to take
travelers sight-seeing. Instead of a peacock irra-
diating the deserted streets, there would be gas-
lights; and in place of the monkeys overrunning
the empty buildings, there would be an official
guide with an itching palm. It is even possible
that a friendly protectorate might, attracted by
the scientific importance of the city, have erected
a Victorian post-office or a group of government
buildings. Such things have been known to
happen with results beside which the ruin of an
earthquake is pleasant to contemplate. Let us
thank Jey Singh then that, at just the right
moment, he stayed his hand and left Amber to
sleep in drowsy beauty and everlasting peace.
In the center of the city itself, there is a basin
filled with spring water; and in this basin is a
lingam, the symbol of the god Siva. An ancient
prophecy has said that when the water completely
covers the lingam, Amber will disappear. As late
as 1876, there were still a few inches of the lingam
uncovered, but before long it will be hidden under
the water, and then we shall know if the prophet
spoke truly. But even if all that is material in
Amber perishes, if doors rot and marble troughs
and arches crumble, if traceries and inlays vanish
and frescoes grow dull, Amber cannot die. The
rich and varied designs of her painted curtains
survive in modern Oriental carpets and pottery.
All the removable treasures that trickled through
the hands of native dealers into museums the
world over will be more carefully preserved than
they could be in Amber itself. And as her palaces
crumble, she will look more than ever like an
enchanted city. When at last the water in the
basin completely covers the lingam, visitors,
standing in the midst of the ruins, will say to
themselves: Here stood Amber, Queen of the
Mountains—the city whose smallest houses were
palaces.
Pbolograpbs by courtesy oj tbc Brooklyn Museum
three eighty-six
FEBRUARY 1925