{"id":2438,"date":"2016-01-22T14:57:10","date_gmt":"2016-01-22T19:57:10","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/winedarksea.org\/?p=2438"},"modified":"2025-02-10T17:27:39","modified_gmt":"2025-02-10T22:27:39","slug":"auerbach-was-right-a-computational-study-of-the-odyssey-and-the-gospels","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/winedarksea.org\/?p=2438","title":{"rendered":"Auerbach Was Right: A Computational Study of the Odyssey and the Gospels"},"content":{"rendered":"
\"Rembrandt,<\/a>
Rembrandt, The Denial of St. Peter (1660), Rijksmuseum<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

In the “Fortunata” chapter of his landmark study,\u00a0Mimesis: The Representation of Reality<\/em>, Eric Auerbach contrasts\u00a0two representations of reality, one found in the New Testament Gospels, the other in texts by Homer and a few other classical writers. As with much of Auerbach’s writing, the sweep of his generalizations is broad. Long excerpts are chosen from representative texts. Contrasts and arguments are made as these excerpts are glossed and related to a broader field of texts.\u00a0Often Auerbach\u00a0only\u00a0gestures toward the larger pattern: readers of Mimesis\u00a0<\/em>must then\u00a0generate their own (hopefully congruent) understanding of what the example represents.<\/p>\n

So many have praised\u00a0Auerbach’s\u00a0powers of observation and close reading. At the very least, his status as a “domain expert” makes his judgments worth paying attention to in a computational\u00a0context.\u00a0In this post, I want to see how a\u00a0machine would parse\u00a0the difference between the two types of texts Auerbach analyzes, stacking the iterative model against the perceptions of a master critic.\u00a0This is a variation on the experiments I have performed\u00a0with Jonathan Hope, where we take a critical judgment\u00a0(i.e., someone’s division of\u00a0Shakespeare’s corpus of plays into genres) and then attempt to reconstruct, at the level of linguistic features, the perception which\u00a0underlies that\u00a0judgment. We\u00a0ask, Can we describe what this person is seeing or reacting to in another way?<\/p>\n

Now,\u00a0Auerbach never fully states what makes his texts different from one another, which makes this task harder.\u00a0Readers\u00a0must infer both the larger field of texts that exemplify the difference Auerbach\u00a0alludes to, and the\u00a0difference itself as adumbrated by that\u00a0larger field. Sharon Marcus is writing an important piece on this allusive play between scales \u2014\u00a0between reference to an\u00a0extended excerpt and reference to a much larger literary field. Because so much goes unstated in this game of stand-ins and implied contrasts,\u00a0the prospect of re-describing Auerbach’s difference in other terms seems particularly daunting. The added difficulty makes for a more interesting experiment.<\/p>\n

Getting at Auerbach’s Distinction by Counting\u00a0Linguistic Features<\/span><\/p>\n

I want to offer a few caveats before outlining what we can learn from a computational comparison of the kinds of works Auerbach refers\u00a0to in his study. For any of what follows\u00a0to be relevant or interesting, you must take for\u00a0granted that the individual books of the Odyssey<\/em> and the New Testament Gospels\u00a0(as they exist in translation from\u00a0Project Gutenberg) represent adequately the texts Auerbach was thinking about in the “Fortunata” chapter. You must grant, too,\u00a0that the linguistic\u00a0features identified by Docuscope<\/a> are useful in elucidating some kind of underlying judgments, even when it is used on texts in translation. (More on the latter and very important point below.) You must further accept that Docuscope, here\u00a0version 3.91, has all the flaws of a humanly curated tag set. (Docuscope annotates\u00a0all texts\u00a0tirelessly\u00a0and consistently according to procedures defined\u00a0by its creators.) Finally,\u00a0you must already agree\u00a0that Auerbach is a perceptive reader, a point I will\u00a0discuss at greater length below.<\/p>\n

I begin with a number of excerpts that I hope will\u00a0give a feel for the contrast in question, if it is a single contrast. This is Auerbach writing in the English translation of Mimesis<\/em>:<\/p>\n

[on Petronius] As in Homer, a clear and equal light floods the persons and things with which he deals; like Homer, he has leisure enough to make his presentation explicit; what he says can have but one meaning, nothing is left mysteriously in the background, everything is expressed. (26-27)<\/p>\n

[on the Acts of the Apostles and Paul\u2019s Epistles] It goes without saying that the stylistic convention of antiquity fails here, for the reaction of the casually involved person can only be presented with the highest seriousness. The random fisherman or publican or rich youth, the random Samaritan or adulteress, come from their random everyday circumstances to be immediately confronted with the personality of Jesus; and the reaction of an individual in such a moment is necessarily a matter of profound seriousness, and very often tragic.\u201d (44)<\/p>\n

[on Gospel of Mark] Generally speaking, direct discourse is restricted in the antique historians to great continuous speeches\u2026But here\u2014in the scene of Peter\u2019s denial\u2014the dramatic tension of the moment when the actors stand face to face has been given a salience and immediacy compared with which the dialogue of antique tragedy appears highly stylized\u2026.I hope that this symptom, the use of direct discourse in living dialogue, suffices to characterize, for our purposes, the relation of the writings of the New Testament to classical rhetoric\u2026\u201d (46)<\/p>\n

[on Tacitus] That he does not fall into the dry and unvisualized, is due not only to his genius but to the incomparably successful cultivation of the visual, of the sensory, throughout antiquity. (46)<\/p>\n

[on the story of Peter\u2019s denial] Here we have neither survey and rational disposition, nor artistic purpose. The visual and sensory as it appears here is no conscious imitation and hence is rarely completely realized. It appears because it is attached to the events which are to be related<\/em>\u2026 (47, emphasis\u00a0mine)<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

There\u00a0is a lot to work with here, and the difference Auerbach is after is probably always going to be a matter of interpretation.\u00a0The simple\u00a0contrast seems to be that between the “equal light” that “floods persons and things” in Homer and the “living dialogue” of the Gospels. The classical presentation of reality is almost sculptural in the sense that every aspect of that reality is touched by the artistic designs of the writer. One\u00a0chisel carves every surface. The rendering of reality in the Gospels, on the other hand, is\u00a0partial and (changing metaphors here) shadowed. People of all kinds speak,\u00a0encounter one another in “their random everyday circumstances,” and the immediacy of that encounter is what lends vividness to\u00a0the story. The visual and sensory “appear…because [they \u00a0are] attached to the events which are to be related.” Overt artistry\u00a0is no longer required to dispose all the details in a single, frieze-like scene. Whatever is vivid becomes so, seemingly, as a consequence of what is said and done, and only as a consequence.<\/p>\n

These are powerful perceptions: they strike many literary critics as accurately capturing something of the difference between the two kinds of writing. It is difficult to say whether our own recognition of these contrasts, speaking now as\u00a0readers of Auerbach, is the result of any one example or formulation that he offers. It may be the case, as Sharon Marcus is arguing, that Auerbach’s method works by “scaling” between the finely wrought example (in long passages excerpted from the texts he reads) and the broad generalizations that are drawn from them. The fact that I had to quote so many passages from Auerbach suggests that the sources<\/em> of his own perceptions are difficult to discern.<\/p>\n

Can\u00a0we now describe those sources by counting linguistic features in the\u00a0texts Auerbach wants to contrast? What would a quantitative re-description of Auerbach’s claims look like?\u00a0I attempted to answer these questions\u00a0by tagging and then analyzing the Project Gutenberg texts of the Odyssey<\/em> and the Gospels. I used the latest\u00a0version of Docuscope\u00a0that is currently being used by the Visualizing English Print<\/a>\u00a0team, a program that scans\u00a0a corpus of texts and then tallies linguistic\u00a0features according to a\u00a0hand curated\u00a0sets of words and phrases\u00a0called “Language Action Types” (hereafter, “features”). Thanks to the Visualizing English Print\u00a0project, I can\u00a0share the raw materials of the analysis. Here<\/a> you can download the full text of everything being compared. Each text can be viewed interactively according to the features (coded by color) that have been counted. When\u00a0you open any of these files in a web browser, select a feature to explore by pressing on the feature names to the left. (This “lights up” the text with that feature’s color).<\/p>\n

I encourage you to examine these texts as tagged by Docuscope for yourself. Like me, you will find many\u00a0individual tagging decisions you disagree with.\u00a0Because Docuscope assigns every word or phrase to one and only one feature (including the feature, “untagged”), it is doomed to imprecision and can be systematically off base. After some checking, however, I find that the\u00a0things Docuscope\u00a0counts happen often and consistently enough that the results are worth thinking about. (Hope and I found this to be the case in our Shakespeare Quarterly<\/em> article on\u00a0Shakespeare’s genres<\/a>.)\u00a0I always try to examine as many examples of a feature in context as I can before\u00a0deciding that the feature\u00a0is worth including in the analysis. Were I to develop this blog post into an article, I would spend considerably more time doing this. But the features included in the analysis here\u00a0strike me as generally stable, and I have examined enough examples to feel that the\u00a0errors are worth ignoring.<\/p>\n

Findings<\/span><\/p>\n

We can say with statistical confidence (p=<.001) that several\u00a0of the features identified in this analysis are likely to occur in only one of the\u00a0two types of writing. These and only these features are the ones I will discuss, starting with an example passage taken from the\u00a0Odyssey.\u00a0<\/em>Names of highlighted features appear\u00a0on the left hand side of the screen shot below,\u00a0while words or phrases assigned to those features\u00a0are highlighted in the text to the right. Again, items\u00a0highlighted in the following examples appear significantly more often in\u00a0the Odyssey<\/em> than in the New Testament Gospels:<\/p>\n

\"Odyssey,<\/a>
Odyssey, Book 1, Project Gutenberg Text (with discriminating features highlighted)<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

Book I is\u00a0bustling\u00a0with\u00a0description of the sensuous world. Words\u00a0in pink describe concrete objects (“wine,” “the house”, “loom”) while those in green describe things involving motion (verbs indicating an activity or change of state). Below are two further examples of such\u00a0features:<\/p>\n

\"Screen<\/a><\/p>\n

\"Screen<\/a><\/p>\n

Notice also the\u00a0purple features\u00a0above, which\u00a0identify words involved in mediating\u00a0spatial relationships. (I would quibble with “hearing” and “silence” as being spatial, per the long passage above, but in general I think this feature set is sound.) Finally, in yellow, we find a\u00a0rather simple thing to tag: quotation\u00a0marks at the beginning and end of a paragraph, indicating a long quotation.<\/p>\n

Continuing on to a shorter set of examples, orange features in the passages below and above identify\u00a0the sensible qualities of a thing described, while blue elements indicate words that extend narrative description (“. When she” “,\u00a0and who”) or words that indicate durative intervals of\u00a0time (“all night”). Again, these are words and phrases\u00a0that are\u00a0more prevalent in the Homeric text:<\/p>\n

\"Screen<\/a><\/p>\n

\"Screen<\/a><\/p>\n

\"Screen<\/a><\/p>\n

The items in cyan, particularly “But” and “, but” \u00a0are interesting, since both continue\u00a0a description by way of contrast. This translation of the Odyssey<\/em> is full of such contrastive words, for example, “though”, “yet,” “however”, “others”, many of which are mediated by Greek particles in the original.<\/p>\n

When quantitative analysis draws our attention to\u00a0these\u00a0features, we see that\u00a0Auerbach’s distinction\u00a0can indeed be tracked at this more granular level. Compared with the Gospels, the Odyssey<\/em> uses significantly\u00a0more words that describe physical and sensible objects of experience, contributing to what Auerbach calls the “successful cultivation of the visual.” For these texts to achieve the effects\u00a0Auerbach describes, one might say that they can’t not<\/em> use concrete nouns alongside\u00a0adjectives that describe sensuous properties of things. Fair enough.<\/p>\n

Perhaps more interesting, though, are those\u00a0features below in blue (signifying progression, duration, addition) and cyan (contrastive particles), features that manage\u00a0the flow of what gets presented in the diegesis. If the\u00a0Odyssey<\/em>\u00a0can’t not use these<\/em>\u00a0words and phrases to achieve the effect Auerbach is describing, how do they contribute to the overall impression? Let’s look at another sample from the opening book of the Odyssey<\/em>, now with a few more examples of these cyan and blue words:<\/p>\n

\"Odyssey,<\/a>
Odyssey, Book 1, Project Gutenberg Text (with discriminating features highlighted)<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

While this is by no means the only interpretation of the role of the words highlighted here, I would suggest that phrases such as “when she”, “, and who”, or “, but” also create\u00a0the\u00a0even illumination of reality to which Auerbach alludes. We\u00a0would have to look at many more examples\u00a0to be sure, but these types of words allow the chisel to remain on the stone a little longer; they continue a description by in-folding contrasts or developments within a single narrative flow.<\/p>\n

Let us now turn to the New Testament Gospels, which lack the above features but contain others to a degree that is statistically significant (i.e., we are confident that the generally\u00a0higher measurements of these new features in the Gospels are not so by chance, and vice versa). I begin with\u00a0a longer passage from Matthew 22, then a short passage from Peter’s denial of Jesus at Matthew 26:71. Please note that the colors employed below correspond to different features\u00a0than they do in the passages above:<\/p>\n

\"Gospel<\/a>
Matthew 22, Project Gutenberg Text (with discriminating features highlighted)<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

\"Matthew<\/a><\/p>\n

The dialogical nature of the Gospels is obvious here. Features in blue, indicating reports of communication events, are\u00a0indispensable\u00a0for representing dialogical exchange (“he says”, “said”, “She says”). Features\u00a0in orange, which indicate\u00a0uses of the third person pronoun, are also integral\u00a0to the representation of\u00a0dialogue; they indicate who is doing the saying. The features in yellow represent (imperfectly, I think) words that reference entities carrying communal authority, words such as “lordship,” “minister,” “chief,” “kingdom.” (Such words do not indicate that the speaker recognizes<\/em> that authority.) Here again it is unsurprising that the Gospels, which contrast spiritual and\u00a0secular forms of obligation, would be obliged to make repeated reference to such authoritative entities.<\/p>\n

Things that happen less often may also play a role in differentiating these two kinds of texts. Consider now\u00a0a group of features that, while present to a higher and statistically significant degree in the Gospels,\u00a0are nevertheless relatively infrequent in comparison to the dialogical features\u00a0immediately above. We are interested here in the words highlighted in purple, pink, gray and green:<\/p>\n

\"Matthew<\/a><\/p>\n

\"Matthew<\/a><\/p>\n

\"Matthew<\/a><\/p>\n

Features in purple mark the\u00a0process of\u00a0“reason giving”; they identify moments\u00a0when a reader or listener is\u00a0directed to\u00a0consider the\u00a0cause of something, or\u00a0to consider\u00a0an action’s\u00a0(spiritually prior) moral justification. In the quotation from Matthew 13, this form of backward looking justification takes the form of\u00a0a parable (“because they had not depth…”). The English word “because” translates a number of ancient Greek words (\u03b4\u03b9\u1f70,\u00a0\u1f45\u03c4\u03b9); even a glance\u00a0at the original\u00a0raises important questions about how well this particular way of handling “reason giving” in English tracks the same practice in the original language. (Is there a qualitative parity here? If so, can that parity be tracked quantitatively?)<\/span>\u00a0In any event, the practice of letting a speaker \u2014\u00a0Jesus, but also others \u2014\u00a0reason aloud about causal or moral dependencies\u00a0seems indispensable to\u00a0the evangelical programme\u00a0of the Gospels.<\/p>\n

To this rhetoric of “reason giving” we can add another of proverbiality. The word “things” \u00a0in pink (\u03c4\u1f70 in the Greek<\/span>) is used more frequently in the Gospels, as are words such as “whoever,” which appears here in gray (for\u00a0\u1f4b\u03c2 and \u1f43\u03c2)<\/span>. We see comparatively higher numbers of the\u00a0present tense form of the verb “to be” in the Gospels as well, here highlighted in green (“is” for \u1f10\u03c3\u03c4\u03b9\u03bd)<\/span>. (See the adage, “many are<\/span> called, but few are<\/span> chosen” in the longer Gospel passage from Matthew 22 excerpted above, translating\u00a0\u03a0\u03bf\u03bb\u03bb\u03bf\u1f76\u00a0\u03b3\u03ac\u03c1\u00a0\u03b5\u1f30\u03c3\u03b9\u03bd <\/span>\u03ba\u03bb\u03b7\u03c4\u03bf\u1f76<\/span>\u00a0<\/span>\u1f40\u03bb\u03af\u03b3\u03bf\u03b9 \u03b4\u1f72 <\/span>\u1f10\u03ba\u03bb\u03b5\u03ba\u03c4\u03bf\u03af.<\/span><\/span>)<\/p>\n

These features introduce\u00a0a certain\u00a0strategic indefiniteness to the speech situation: attention is focused on things that are true from the standpoint of time immemorial or prophecy. (“Things” that just “are” true, “whatever” the case, “whoever” may be involved.). These features move\u00a0the narrative into something like an “evangelical present” where moral reasoning and prophecy replace description of sensuous reality. In place of concrete detail, we get proverbial\u00a0generalization.\u00a0One further effect of this rhetoric of proverbiality is that the searchlight of narrative interest is momentarily dimmed, at least as a source illuminating an immediate\u00a0physical reality.<\/p>\n

What Made Auerbach “Right,” And Why Can We Still See It?<\/span><\/p>\n

What have we learned from this exercise? Answering the most basic question,\u00a0we can say that, after analyzing\u00a0the frequency of a limited set of\u00a0verbal features occurring\u00a0in\u00a0these two types of text (features tracked by Docuscope 3.91), we find that some of those\u00a0features distribute\u00a0unevenly\u00a0across the corpus, and do so in a way that tracks\u00a0the two types of texts Auerbach discusses. We have arrived, then, at a statistically valid description of what makes these two types of writing different, one that\u00a0maps\u00a0intelligibly onto the conceptual distinctions Auerbach makes in his own, mostly allusive analysis.\u00a0If the test was to see if we can re-describe Auerbach’s insights by other means,\u00a0Auerbach passes the test.<\/p>\n

But is it really Auerbach who passes? I think\u00a0Auerbach was already\u00a0“right” regardless of what the statistics say. He is right because generations of critics recognize his\u00a0distinction. What we were testing, then, was not whether Auerbach was “right,” but whether a distinction offered\u00a0by this\u00a0domain expert could\u00a0be re-described by other means, at the level of iterated linguistic\u00a0features<\/em>. The distinction Auerbach offered in Mimesis<\/em> passes the\u00a0re-description test, and so we say, “Yes, that can be done.” Indeed, the largest sources of variance in this corpus \u2014\u00a0features with the highest\u00a0covariance \u2014\u00a0seem to align independently with, and explicitly elaborate, the mimetic strategies Auerbach describes.\u00a0If we have hit upon something here, it is not a new discovery about the texts\u00a0themselves. Rather, we have found an\u00a0alternate description of\u00a0the things Auerbach may be\u00a0reacting<\/em> to. The real object of study here is the\u00a0reaction of a reader.<\/p>\n

Why insist that it is a reader’s reactions and not the\u00a0texts themselves that we are describing? Because we cannot somehow deposit the sum total of the experience Auerbach brings to his reading in the “container” that is a text. Even if we are making exhaustive lists of words or features in texts, the complexity we are interested in is the complexity of literary judgment. This should not be surprising. We\u00a0wouldn’t\u00a0need a thing called literary criticism if what we said\u00a0about the things we read exhausted\u00a0or fully described that experience. There’s an\u00a0unstatable fullness to\u00a0our experience when we read. The\u00a0enterprise of criticism is\u00a0the ongoing search for ever more explicit\u00a0descriptions of this\u00a0fullness. Critics make gains in explicitness by introducing distinctions and examples. In this case, quantitative analysis extends the basic\u00a0enterprise, introducing another searchlight that provides its own,\u00a0partial illumination<\/a>.<\/p>\n

This exercise also suggests that a mimetic strategy discernible in one language survives translation into\u00a0another. Auerbach presents an interesting case for thinking about such survival, since he wrote\u00a0Mimesis<\/em> while in exile in Istanbul, without immediate\u00a0access to all of the sources he wants to analyze. What if\u00a0Auerbach was thinking about the Greek texts of these works while writing the “Fortunata” chapter? How could it be, then, that\u00a0at least some<\/em> of what he was noticing in the Greek carries\u00a0over\u00a0into English via translation, living\u00a0to be counted another day? Readers of Mimesis<\/em> who do not know ancient Greek still see what Auerbach is talking about, and this\u00a0must be\u00a0because\u00a0the difference\u00a0between classical and New Testament mimesis depends on\u00a0words or features that can’t be omitted in a reasonably faithful translation<\/em>. Now a\u00a0bigger question comes into focus.\u00a0What does it mean to say that both Auerbach and the quantitative analysis converge\u00a0on\u00a0something non-negotiable that distinguishes\u00a0these\u00a0the two types of writing? Does it make sense to call this something “structural”?<\/p>\n

If you come from the humanities, you are taking a deep breath right about now.\u00a0“Structure” is a concept that many have worked hard to put in the ground. Here is a context, however, in which that word may\u00a0still be useful.\u00a0Structure or structures, in the sense I want to use these words, refers to whatever is\u00a0non-negotiable in translation and, therefore,\u00a0available for description\u00a0or contrast in both qualitative and quantitative terms. Now, there are trivial cases that we would want to reject from this definition of structure.\u00a0If I say that the Gospels are different from the Odyssey<\/em> because the word Jesus occurs more frequently in the former, I am talking\u00a0about something that is\u00a0essential but not\u00a0structural. (You could create a great “predictor” of whether a text is a Gospel by looking for the word “Jesus,” but no one would\u00a0congratulate you.)<\/p>\n

If I say, pace Auerbach, that the Gospels are more dialogical than the Homeric texts, and so that English translations of the same must more frequently use phrases like “he said,”\u00a0the difference\u00a0starts to feel more inbuilt. You\u00a0may become even more intrigued to find that other, less obvious\u00a0features contribute to that difference which Auerbach\u00a0hadn’t thought to describe (for example, the present tense forms of “to be” in the Gospels, or pronouns such as\u00a0“whoever” or “whatever”). We could go further and ask, Would it really be possible to create an English translation of Homer or the Gospels that fundamentally avoids\u00a0dialogical cues, or severs them from the other features observed here?\u00a0Even if, like the translator of Perec’s La Disparition<\/em>, we were extremely clever in finding a way to avoid certain features, the resulting translation would likely register the\u00a0displacement in another form. (That difference\u00a0would live to be counted another way.) To the extent that we have identified a set of necessary, indispensable, “can’t not occur” features for the mimetic practice under discussion, we should be able to count it in both the\u00a0original language as well as a reasonably faithful translation.<\/p>\n

I would conjecture that for any<\/em>\u00a0distinction\u00a0to be made among\u00a0literary texts,\u00a0there must be a countable correlate in translation for the\u00a0difference being proposed. No correlate, no critical difference \u2014\u00a0at least, if we are talking about a difference a reader could recognize. Whether what is distinguished through such differences is\u00a0a\u00a0“structure,” a metaphysical essence, or a historical convention is beside the point. The major insight here is that the\u00a0common ground between traditional\u00a0literary criticism and the iterative, computational analysis of texts is that both study “that which survives translation.” There is no better or more precise description of our shared object of study.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

In the “Fortunata” chapter of his landmark study,\u00a0Mimesis: The Representation of Reality, Eric Auerbach contrasts\u00a0two representations of reality, one found in the New Testament Gospels, the other in texts by Homer and a few other classical writers. As with much of Auerbach’s writing, the sweep of his generalizations is broad. Long excerpts are chosen from […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[14,24],"tags":[198,200,10,199],"class_list":["post-2438","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-theory","category-quant-theory","tag-auerbach","tag-criticism","tag-docuscope","tag-translation"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/winedarksea.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2438","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/winedarksea.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/winedarksea.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/winedarksea.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/winedarksea.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=2438"}],"version-history":[{"count":151,"href":"https:\/\/winedarksea.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2438\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2615,"href":"https:\/\/winedarksea.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2438\/revisions\/2615"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/winedarksea.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=2438"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/winedarksea.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=2438"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/winedarksea.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=2438"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}