{"id":13490,"date":"2014-10-06T06:57:26","date_gmt":"2014-10-06T03:57:26","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/tentaclii.wordpress.com\/?p=13490"},"modified":"2022-05-15T21:40:23","modified_gmt":"2022-05-15T21:40:23","slug":"book-review-h-p-lovecraft-art-artifact-and-reality","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/jurn.link\/tentaclii\/index.php\/2014\/10\/06\/book-review-h-p-lovecraft-art-artifact-and-reality\/","title":{"rendered":"Book review: H.P. Lovecraft: Art, Artifact, and Reality"},"content":{"rendered":"

Steven J. Mariconda, H.P. Lovecraft: Art, Artifact, and Reality<\/a><\/em>, Hippocampus Press, August 2013. <\/p>\n

A print-on-demand trade paperback of 308 pages, with a good index. Footnotes are at the bottom of each page, rather than as endnotes. The book is not illustrated, other than on the front cover. There is no ebook edition, as of October 2014. Most of the essays previously appeared in the scholarly journal Lovecraft Studies<\/em>, the fan journal Crypt of Cthulhu<\/em>, or similar publications.<\/font><\/p>\n

H.P. Lovecraft adored a far view of some darkling town in which the lights of old houses were slowly being turned on, one by one, especially if this followed a glorious sunset. Charles E. Burchfield\u2019s art is thus an especially apt choice for the cover of Steven J. Mariconda\u2019s new book. Dating from 1916 his sunset picture seems at first a typical bit of Americana, loose, dynamic, free, na\u00eff<\/em>, and rooted in place and atmosphere. Yet it is also proto-modernist in its feverishly visionary quality and, like Lovecraft, actually informed by careful training and European sensibilities. There is also an unintended layer of additional meaning: Burchfield\u2019s view of the house could so easily be imagined to show Lovecraft\u2019s upper floor room at 66 College St. And yet, Lovecraft\u2019s room light is not on.<\/p>\n

Mariconda certainly turns on the light for readers with this new collection of his essays. He opens his elegantly written new book by pointing to the canny ways in which H.P. Lovecraft \u201cdovetails the real and unreal so seamlessly and pervasively\u201d. He states that the study of Lovecraft thus requires a balance between proven academic methods and a \u201chistorical and biographical criticism\u201d of almost Talmudic intensity and depth. Mariconda\u2019s chosen academic methods are New Criticism, which originated in Lovecraft\u2019s own time, and the reader-response methodologies. From which I hazily deduce that Mariconda probably trained in literary criticism during the late 1970s, when those two heavyweight approaches were apparently reconciled. My guess seems congruent with the dates of the key essays, which mostly range from the early 1980s through into the 1990s. Judging by the strength of the main essays in this vital collection, Mariconda has indeed found an apt mix by which to understand Lovecraft in depth.<\/p>\n

The book opens with a fine and necessary defence of Lovecraft\u2019s prose style, titled \u201cH.P. Lovecraft: Consummate Prose Stylist\u201d. The essay appears to be a new combination of several essays from 1982-85. Mariconda points out that for many decades the hostile reception of Lovecraft\u2019s prose style more or less ignored Lovecraft\u2019s intent, that of evoking atmosphere while subtly inculcating dread. I also wonder if many of the moaners were ignorant that their first traumatic encounter was actually with: prose that was purposely purple and self-parodic (\u201cThe Hound\u201d); works never meant for publication (fragments and suchlike); works that were only in a rough first-draft stage (\u201cDream Quest\u201d, popular among 1970s hippies); or work that had been chopped about or distorted wholesale by other hands (from sub-editors at Astounding<\/em> to Derleth). We perhaps also forget the decline in reading ability in the 1970s and 80s, due to failed educational nostrums and policies, which meant that Lovecraft\u2019s advanced vocabulary became a stumbling block for many. There was also the habit of skim-reading, encouraged by the rise of the padded-out doorstopper genre novel in the 1980s. Mariconda identifies \u201cThe Wall of Sleep\u201d as the first Lovecraft story to really crack the HPL®<\/sup> \u2018formula\u2019, which is summed up here as: detailed descriptions of imaginative creations; neatly dovetailing real facts into fictions; and writing in a precise and learned manner. Later Lovecraft would become increasingly adept at seamlessly blending together real items into one fictional item, or grafting different places together to produce a composite place. Mariconda identifies \u201cThe Green Meadow\u201d (1918-19) as the verdant sward through which Lovecraft first waded to reach his signature style, and amid which he came to realise the possibility of a story as \u201can actual hoax\u201d (Lovecraft). Lovecraft soon realised that he could also \u201choax\u201d the reader by a carefully integrated references to art and philosophy, as well as to science. Mariconda then looks at the influences on Lovecraft\u2019s style. Poe, via the \u2018psychological realism\u2019 in his horror, is underlined as a \u2018baseline\u2019 influence. As are Lovecraft\u2019s adored 18th century satirists and stylists. Hawthorne is suggested as a writer who inspired Lovecraft to add a sense of local New England colour to his fiction, but — although I have closely read the recent Burleson essay on the topic in Lovecraft and Influence<\/em> — I have yet to see anyone really pin down this claim with substantive and convincing evidence. In terms of Lovecraft\u2019s technique Mariconda notes the influence of the 18th century gentleman observer, and specifically their new-found delight in precise naming and describing. Also noted is the 18th century use of \u2018doubling\u2019 (\u201cthe grandeur and<\/em> the terror\u201d) and tripling or quadruplicating (\u201cHe was at once a devil and<\/em> a multitude, a charnel-house and<\/em> a pageant.\u201d) in descriptive language. From 18th century satire came the time-worn devices which enabled an author to disclaim responsibility for outr\u00e9<\/em> opinions— such as allegedly \u2018discovered\u2019 diaries, \u2018found\u2019 recollections and letters, \u2018overheard\u2019 remarks, and the like. Mariconda then points to Lovecraft\u2019s abilities as a skilled poet, able to effortlessly slip alliteration, assonance, and rhythm into his fiction. Finally Mariconda proceeds to undertake close readings of a number of fine passages from Lovecraft. These include some of the much maligned \u2018stream of consciousness\u2019 passages — probably influenced by literary modernism, but used by Lovecraft to further heighten his realistic portrayal of deranged mental states.<\/p>\n

The essay \u201cLovecraft\u2019s Concept of \u2018Background\u2019\u201d is from 1986, and undertakes the tricky task of divining the precise emotional textures of Lovecraft\u2019s personal background in his heritage and tradition. This may seem a somewhat easier task today, nearly thirty years later and with many more points of scholarship from which to triangulate. So Mariconda is to be admired for providing a tight and excellent early survey, outlining how and why Lovecraft sought to use his fiction to re-evoke and recapture his own personal background and heritage. I would only point out here that Lovecraft\u2019s intense Anglophilia meant this was not only a New England background. His was also a de facto<\/em> English background, most especially in his intense adherence to the time-worn English tradition of the gentleman amateur and the allied tacit English traditions of topophilia and antiquarian chorography. Mariconda\u2019s survey might thus have benefited from an understanding of the worldview and sense of \u2018deep time\u2019 embodied the tradition of the English conservative gentleman intellectual (see the early chapters of English philosopher Roger Scruton\u2019s new book How to be a Conservativ<\/em>e for a lucid and concise summary, and also Scruton\u2019s earlier England: An Elegy<\/em>). This same feeling was bound up with Lovecraft\u2019s intense study of his genealogical landscapes of Devon\/Cornwall and Northumbria, and the history and topography of London. Lovecraft\u2019s desire to be in touch with his English background even pops up during his New York City sojourn, via his friendship with Ernest La Touche Hancock (see my essay on Hancock in my Lovecraft in Historical Context<\/em> 5) and in his correspondence with other Empire loyalists. His Anglophilia was later bolstered by regular media consumption. For instance, I was interested to learn recently that Lovecraft listened to British radio, presumably via the Empire service which sent the signal from London toward Canada from 1932 onwards. He also had access to the conservative British weekly The Spectator<\/em>, offering pithy opinion and book reviews, via the Providence Public Library.<\/p>\n

The essay \u201cToward a Reader-Response Approach to the Lovecraft Mythos\u201d is from 1995. It opens with a look at the inconsistencies in the various Mythos taxonomies, showing how the Mythos evades easy sorting and classification. This rather surprising difficulty, exemplified by Robert Price\u2019s various taxonomies and anthologies, suggests that avid fans can take radically different meanings from certain stories and groups of stories. Mariconda follows this observation back into history and points out that the very existence of Weird Tales<\/em> and its fans shaped the wayward emergence of the Mythos. He also suggests that the very unfamiliarity and unfixity of the Mythos must have made it tremendously exciting to attentive readers, and doubly so because it was dispersed across different authors. How was this brought about? By having a single platform for both his own work and for his revisions Lovecraft could subtly weave the Mythos through both, thus deepening the impact on regular readers. This practice then spread out to take in other writers, in an exemplary and ground-breaking sharing of intellectual property. Of course not all his readers rose above the \u201crabble\u201d of \u201cyaps and nitwits\u201d, as Lovecraft called readers of Weird Tales<\/em>. But the more intelligent and attentive readers of Weird Tales<\/em> would have had a growing awareness of the Mythos. On this point Mariconda offers a very useful chronological table which gives the exact date order in which the Mythos was revealed to Weird Tales<\/em> readers. Lovecraft\u2019s loose and opportunistic approach to myth-making, I might add, served to mimic some of the primal methods of oral culture.<\/p>\n

The short survey \u201cLovecraft\u2019s Cosmic Imagery\u201d dates from 1991. It opens by pointing out that Lovecraft already had a firm worldview and philosophy by the time he began writing his Mythos stories. Mariconda thus sees Lovecraft\u2019s cosmic imagery, and its associated aural accompaniment, as \u201ca natural and cohesive outgrowth of his philosophical position.\u201d I might have added that Lovecraft\u2019s position was continually being buffeted by a stream of new scientific discoveries and theories, not all of which Lovecraft fully grasped or understood when he first encountered them. In this, we can see the usefulness that misunderstandings and misapprehensions have for artists and writers. Lovecraft benefited from being forced to oscillate between the specific and the impressionistic, in order to convey his position to his audience. Mariconda follows with two pages on the role of sound on Lovecraft. This leads to a look at Lovecraft\u2019s use of rhythm and pattern, and associated inhuman geometries. All of which seem to parallel the new developments in the modern art and music of the period.<\/p>\n

Art is the topic of the next essay, \u201cH.P. Lovecraft: Art, Artifact, and Reality\u201d, dating from 1995. It opens with the observation that Lovecraft did with art what he did with many otherwise pleasurable things. He inverted it, for the purposes of weird fiction. Thus art became the means to perceive ancient lurking horrors, rather than beauty and timeless human truths. Mariconda first looks at actual items, artefacts of apparent human origin such as the doom-laden talismans in \u201cThe Temple\u201d and \u201cThe Hound\u201d. He goes on to examine how Lovecraft\u2019s human artists reveal forms of nature other than our own via their art, while noting that their own appearance or family background (the \u201cwrinkled satyr-like\u201d Zann, the witch-descended Pickman) suggests why they have such access. Mariconda concludes by discussing the non-human artefacts in the stories (such as the Shining Trapezohedron, Legrasse\u2019s Cthulhu idol, the Innsmouth tiara) which serve to offer the reader \u2018proof\u2019 of the threat.<\/p>\n

\u201cH.P. Lovecraft: Reluctant American Modernist\u201d is a more recent essay, from 2001. It opens by pointing out that Lovecraft was anti-modern in all sorts of ways, not simply in his tastes in literature. Mariconda notes that Lovecraft was the product of the same implacable forces that gave rise to the moderns, but he omits to mention the elitism and fear of the masses that Lovecraft shared with the moderns of both the political left and right (on this see John Carey\u2019s The Intellectuals and the Masses: Pride and Prejudice Among the Literary Intelligensia, 1880-1939<\/em>). Although, to be fair, Mariconda does touch on this aspect in a later essay in relation to Lovecraft\u2019s racialist stance. There then follows a usefully precise historical account of Lovecraft\u2019s face-to-face engagement with modernists, starting in Cleveland in 1922 with the Crane-Loveman circle around Laukhuff’s Book Store, then in New York City from 1924-1926. I was tantalised to learn, via Mariconda\u2019s access to an unpublished letter, that Lovecraft saw an exhibition of modernist paintings in September 1924 at the Grand Central Art Galleries in New York City (sadly I have been unable to discover the name of the show). Mariconda gives a detailed narrative of the meetings with Crane and his circle in New York City, showing that Lovecraft was exposed to literary modernist ideas and personalities there, and also to the relevant literary works when in book and mainstream magazine form (although he appears to have been very sniffy about the likes of The Dial<\/em> and the \u2018little magazines\u2019 of bohemia). He was also exposed to the same new types of urban environments and the fears they engendered, and to the love-hate engagement with the new \u2018machine age\u2019. But was Lovecraft, in any real sense, a modernist? Mariconda suggests that Lovecraft mis-understood modernism. That is quite possible, but I wasn\u2019t convinced on that point by this book. For instance, some of the quotes Mariconda uses (p.117) to argue his case seem to me to be Lovecraft talking about modernist visual art rather than literature. Mariconda also has a scarily airbrushed leftist view of U.S. political history during the early modernist period. For instance, the reader can finish page 124 with the firm impression that in 1919\/20 a brutal police state inflicted waves of totally unprovoked arrests and deportations on harmless immigrants. That is rather like outlining the U.S. reactions to 9\/11, without even once mentioning the terrorism which forced those reactions. There is not a single mention here of the intense provocations during this period: the forceful spreading of violent political doctrines that glorified terrorism, huge mob-handed riots and dangerous industrial disruption, all backed by a new revolution-exporting totalitarian state in Russia; a national U.S. terrorist movement able to simultaneously explode seven bombs in public places, including bombs which demolished a church, in cities that included Boston and Cleveland; a series of sophisticated and deadly mail bombs each specially designed to blow the hands off those who opened them; and a horse-drawn tram, packed with 100 pounds of dynamite and sawn-up iron curtain-weights as deadly shrapnel, being exploded in the middle of New York City. Nor is there any mention here that the police were able to deploy the first audio bugging devices, to gather hard conclusive evidence.<\/p>\n

\u201c\u2018Expect Great Revelations\u2019: Lovecraft Criticism in His Centennial Year\u201d surveys the then-recent Lovecraft scholarship of 1990. Mariconda\u2019s discussion centres around a useful review of Joshi\u2019s The Decline of The West<\/em>, although many other fine volumes are also noted and perceptively discussed. Mariconda does rather gush about Cannon\u2019s identification of Poe as the model for the older man in \u201cHypnos\u201d — an identification resting, and only tangentially, on Frank Belknap Long\u2019s notoriously shaky memory. But elsewhere in the book Mariconda realises that the primary model for the character was Samuel Loveman. The older man is actually a typical Lovecraft blending together of a handful of figures, as I will show in my forthcoming annotated critical edition of \u201cHypnos\u201d.<\/p>\n

\u201cOn \u2018Amissa Minerva\u2019\u201d gives us an annotated version of this Lovecraft poem, explicating the various poets and poetic movements involved. I was fascinated to hear of the \u2018Spectrists\u2019, a hoax satirical movement which actually grew into a movement that some poets took seriously. This is another example, I think, of how misunderstandings can be creatively productive. But perhaps our hyper-informed Internet age should not mourn the increasing loss of misunderstanding as an engine of cultural production. Since our new world seems as gullible as it is informed, and thus the potential for an artful hoax remains unexpectedly undimmed.<\/p>\n

The idea of jokes leads to the next essay, \u201c\u2019The Hound\u2019—A Dead Dog?\u201d The hilarious story \u201cThe Hound\u201d is revealed to have been a literary joke written for close friends, its casket lined with yellowing references to the decadent literature of the 1890s. It seems that Lovecraft later forgot its origins as a joke. And I wonder if that forgetting can be seen as evidence for the depth of Lovecraft\u2019s depression and distorted self-depreciation after 1930, when he came to see the story as a sort of \u2018cone of shame\u2019 around his neck (\u201cI\u2019m afraid \u2018The Hound\u2019 is a dead dog\u201d). But then he was not a good judge of his own work, at one point deriding the likes of \u201cNyarlathotep\u201d and \u201cThe Outsider\u201d while thinking that \u201cThe Strange High House in the Mist\u201d might actually be his best work.<\/p>\n

The essay \u201c\u2019Hypnos\u2019: Art, Philosophy, and Insanity\u201d rightfully claims the enigmatic \u201cHypnos\u201d as one of three outstanding early Lovecraft tales, alongside \u201cErich Zann\u201d and \u201cThe Outsider\u201d. Mariconda\u2019s detailed discussion of the story is useful, but could have benefited from an investigation of the real mythology and classical symbolism at play underneath the story. Instead the story is treated as a parable of artistic over-ambition. The deeper layers of cultural meaning, which would have been apparent to Loveman, are thus left untouched. There is also an incorrect statement in the footnotes for this essay: \u201cMs. Greene was present when HPL debuted \u201cHypnos\u201d … by reading it aloud to Loveman and several other friends\u201d. This is not at all supported by the reference given to Selected Letters<\/em> I, p.176. Sonia had actually gone shopping, tactfully leaving Lovecraft and Loveman alone to read each other their works (Lovecraft read \u201cHypnos\u201d, which he had written for Loveman, Loveman read from his long poem “The Hermaphrodite”) and to get to know each other. I know of no evidence to suggest that Lovecraft read \u201cHypnos\u201d to anyone other than Loveman at that time.<\/p>\n

The essay \u201cCurious Myths of the Middle Ages<\/em> and \u2018The Rats in the Walls\u2019\u201d presents Baring-Gould\u2019s book Curious Myths of the Middle Ages<\/em> as a source text for the setting of the sub-cellar in \u201cThe Rats in the Walls\u201d, specifically via Baring-Gould\u2019s recounting of the folk story of St. Patrick\u2019s Purgatory. That may be so, but my own feeling is that Lovecraft took much more direct inspiration from details he found in the chapter \u201cHexham and Its Neighbourhood\u201d in the book Highways and byways in Northumbria<\/em> (1921), discovered during his genealogical research on the area (on this point see my essay \u201cOf Rats and Legions: H.P. Lovecraft in Northumbria\u201d in Lovecraft in Historical Context<\/em> 4). Mariconda\u2019s essay also notes the army of rats to be found in German medieval folklore.<\/p>\n

\u201cLovecraft\u2019s Elizabethtown\u201d is a short essay on a place Lovecraft first found in November 1924, and considered an oasis of colonial architecture away from the pest-zone of New York City. It was there that he went one morning to write the story \u201cHe\u201d, sitting in a local park. Mariconda examines claims that Lovecraft might have taken inspiration from some of the Elizabeth buildings. He also reports that little now remains of what Lovecraft saw in Elizabeth, and that all the benches are gone from Scott Park.<\/p>\n

\u201cOn the Emergence of \u2018Cthulhu\u2019\u201d is an important essay on the long draw-out genesis of \u201cThe Call of Cthulhu\u201d, and an examination of its various known sources. This is certainly a vital essay for anyone interested in how the famous story came about. Although Mariconda doesn\u2019t examine the possibility that there was a further \u201crevising and finishing\u201d (in Wandrei\u2019s words) of the story in the summer of 1927.<\/p>\n

\u201cThe Subversion of Sense in \u201c\u2019The Colour out of Space\u2019\u201d is an excellent close reading of the story, with a tight focus on the word-choices and phrasings deployed in this masterpiece.<\/p>\n

\u201cTightening the Coil: The Revision of \u2018The Whisperer in Darkness\u2019\u201d is a long and detailed essay, greatly aided by access to the original archival materials. Mariconda steps readers through the difficult genesis and the radical changes made to the climax of \u201cWhisperer\u201d in 1930, and shows how the tale eventually came right with the help of detailed advice from Bernard Austin Dwyer. Dwyer was one of the very few associates whom Lovecraft felt to be really in tune with \u2018the cosmic\u2019. After reading the essay one can understand how the difficult birth of \u201cWhisperer\u201d might have contributed to Lovecraft\u2019s perception that 1930\/31 had marked the \u201cend [of] my effective fictional career\u201d. The old days of dashing off a masterpiece in a few days must have seemed over, at least until the final flourish of \u201cThe Haunter of the Dark\u201d.<\/p>\n

\u201cLovecraft\u2019s role in \u2018The Tree on the Hill\u2019\u201d examines the revision of Rimel\u2019s short story. Mariconda states that \u201cit seems certain that almost the entire third section is Lovecraft\u2019s writing\u201d including the plotting.<\/p>\n

\u201cSome Antecedents of the Shining Trapezohedron\u201d seeks sources for the Shining Trapezohedron, the central object of the Lovecraft late story \u201cThe Haunter of the Dark\u201d. The far-seeing magic mirrors and crystal balls of folk tales are an obvious first suggestion, but Mariconda also notes the more involved crystallomancy of necromantic alchemists such as Dr. Dee. He also rather unconvincingly suggests H.G. Wells\u2019s story \u201cThe Crystal Egg\u201d (1896) as a source. I knew that Lovecraft had first read Wells\u2019s classic The Time Machine<\/em> in November 1924, but I was fascinated to learn via Mariconda that Lovecraft had also read Wells\u2019s book Thirty Strange Stories<\/em> in January 1924. Lovecraft wrote that he admired Wells\u2019s deft plots in the volume, but not the style or atmosphere. Yet Thirty Strange Stories<\/em> does not contain \u201cThe Crystal Egg\u201d and, as Mariconda notes, such an influence was more likely to have come through Clark Ashton Smith\u2019s apparent rewrite of \u201cThe Crystal Egg\u201d in his story \u201cUbbo-Sathla\u201d (1933). But eventually Mariconda alights on the idea that the immediate and more obvious spur for the Trapezohedron was the idea of the Cube in the round-robin story \u201cThe Challenge from Beyond\u201d in November 1935, paired and blended with an idea buried in Lovecraft\u2019s own \u201cThe Whisperer in Darkness\u201d (1930). I would note evidence that Lovecraft\u2019s dreams contained somewhat similar items, such as that which is described in \u201cThe Evil Clergyman\u201d.<\/p>\n

The remaining quarter of Mariconda\u2019s stimulating book contains reprints of his long book reviews, of key Lovecraft editions and also key books by Lovecraft scholars. I found his most interesting comments to be those on Joshi\u2019s shying away from the implications of Lovecraft\u2019s seemingly endless string of handsome boy prot\u00e9g\u00e9s<\/em>, and Mariconda\u2019s lengthy comments on Lovecraft\u2019s boyish sense of play in everyday life and literary japes. Mariconda\u2019s reviews of the collected Barlow and Derleth letters interested me, since I don\u2019t currently have those volumes. I learned there of Lovecraft\u2019s liking for the artist Ralph Blakelock (1847-1919), who seems to have been a sort of American Samuel Palmer.<\/p>\n

The book concludes with a personal “Afterword”, in which Mariconda recalls how and where he was first introduced to Lovecraft\u2019s work.<\/p>\n

This is a vital book of scholarship on Lovecraft, and is all the more so for being remarkably well written. Despite the book\u2019s impression of admirable completeness, I do hope that this is not to be Mariconda\u2019s last word on Lovecraft. I read elsewhere that he has an excellent lecture on the topography of \u201cThe Colour out of Space\u201d, yet to be written up for publication. Let us hope that it will eventually lead off a second book of Mariconda\u2019s essays on Lovecraft.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Steven J. Mariconda, H.P. Lovecraft: Art, Artifact, and Reality, Hippocampus Press, August 2013. A print-on-demand trade paperback of 308 pages, …<\/p>\n

Continue reading →<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[18,24],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-13490","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-new-books","category-scholarly-works"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/jurn.link\/tentaclii\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/13490","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/jurn.link\/tentaclii\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/jurn.link\/tentaclii\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/jurn.link\/tentaclii\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/jurn.link\/tentaclii\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=13490"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/jurn.link\/tentaclii\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/13490\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":54419,"href":"https:\/\/jurn.link\/tentaclii\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/13490\/revisions\/54419"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/jurn.link\/tentaclii\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=13490"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/jurn.link\/tentaclii\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=13490"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/jurn.link\/tentaclii\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=13490"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}