{"id":1720,"date":"2013-07-13T01:36:43","date_gmt":"2013-07-13T01:36:43","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/localhost\/?p=1720"},"modified":"2013-07-13T01:36:43","modified_gmt":"2013-07-13T01:36:43","slug":"19-the-victorian-poets-vol-26-the-future-poetry","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/01-works-of-sri-aurobindo\/03-cwsa\/26-the-future-poetry\/19-the-victorian-poets-vol-26-the-future-poetry","title":{"rendered":"-19_The Victorian Poets.htm"},"content":{"rendered":"
\n\n\n
\n\t <\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tChapter XIX <\/b><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\t <\/p>\n

\n\t\t\t The Victorian Poets<\/font><\/b><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\t <\/p>\n

\n\t\t\t
\n\t\t\tT<\/font>HE EPOCH<\/b> associated in England with the name of Victoria was in poetry, like that of Pope and Dryden, an age of dominant intellectualism; but, unlike that hard and
\nsterile period, it has been an imaginative, artistic intellectualism, touched with the greater and freer breath of modern thought
\nand its wide interest and fullness of matter, not brass-bound in furbished and narrow bands of social ease and polite refinement,
\nbut alive, astir, capable of personal energy and inspiration, aesthetical in its refinements, above all not entirely satisfied with
\nitself, but opened up to some mountain-top prospects, struck across by some moments of prophecy. But still whether we compare it with the inspirations from which it turned or with the inspiration which followed and replaced it, it is a depression, not
\na height, and without being either faultily faultless or splendidly null, as epochs of a too self-satisfied intellectual enlightenment
\ntend to appear to be in the eyes of the more deeply thinking ages, it fails to satisfy, unlike the Roman Augustan, the French
\ngrand century, or even in its own kind the English Augustan. It leaves an impression of a too cramped fullness and a too level
\ncuriosity. It is a descent into a comfortable and pretty hollow or a well-cultured flatness between high, wild or beautiful mountain
\nranges behind and in front a great confused beginning of cliff and seashore, sands and rocks and breakers and magic of hills and
\nsea-horizons. There is much in this work to admire, something here and there to stimulate, but only a little that lifts off the feet
\nand carries to the summits of the poetic enthusiasm. The descent from the uncertain but high elevations of the
\nfirst romantic, half spiritual outbreak is very marked, baffling and sudden. This is not in the nature of a revolt, an energetic audacity of some new thing,
\n\t\t\t\u2014 except for a moment in Swinburne, \u2014 but a change of levels, a transition to other more varied but <\/p>\n

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\n

\n\t\t\tless elevated interests, the substitution of a more curious but less
\nimpetuous movement. The rich beauty of Keats is replaced by the careful opulent cultivated picturesqueness of Tennyson, the
\nconcentrated personal force of Byron by the many-sided intellectual robustness and energy of Browning, the intense Nature
\npoetry and the strong and grave ethical turn of Wordsworth by the too intellectually conscious eye on Nature and the cultured
\nmoralising of Arnold, the pure ethereal lyricism of Shelley by Swinburne’s turgid lyrical surge and all too self-conscient fury
\nof foam-tossing sound, and in place of the supernatural visions of Blake and Coleridge we have the mediaeval glamour and
\nlanguorous fields of dream of Rossetti and Morris. There is a considerable gain, but a deep loss; for this poetry has a more
\nevolved richness, but in that greater richness a greater poverty. The gain is in fullness of a more varied use of language, a more
\nconscious and careful art, a more informed and varied range of thought and interest; but the loss is in spiritual substance and the
\nPythian height of inspiration. There is a more steady working, but with it a clogged and heavier breath; a wealth of colour and
\nnearer strain of thinking, but a lower flame of the spirit. This labour is assured and careful enough in its workmanship but,
\nless inspired, it has a paucity of greatness and a too temperate impulsion. <\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tThe intellectual preparation of the previous poetry, the depth and wealth of experience which must found the greatest
\nand most successful audacities of spiritual vision, had been insufficient, coming as it did after a shallow and superficial age
\nof the acute, but limited cult of Reason. The work of the middle nineteenth century was to prepare anew the intellectual ground
\nand to lead up to a more conscious, enriched and careful artistic execution. But it was a tract of intellectual effort in which there
\nwas much width of a kind and considerable invention, but a very insufficient height and profundity. In England there was
\nthe added misfortune of a reign of rampant philistinism. The Victorian period for all its activity and fruitfulness was by no
\nmeans one of those great intellectual humanistic ages which the world will look back to with a satisfied sense of clarity or of
\n    <\/p>\n

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\n

\nuplifting. The great flood of free thinking, free inquiry, scientific and artistic vivacity, the rapid breaking of fresh ground, the
\nnoble political enthusiasms which stirred France and Germany and Italy and created a new force of democratic humanism
\nin Russia, swept in vain past the English shores defended by their chalk cliffs and downs of self-content or only broke across
\nthem in a few insignificant waves. It is the most unlovely and uninspiring period of the English spirit. Never was the
\naesthetic sense so drowned in pretentious ugliness, seldom the intelligence crusted in such an armoured imperviousness
\nto fine and subtle thinking, the ebb of spirituality so far out and low. It was a period of smug commercial middle-class
\nprosperity, dull mechanism, hard utilitarianism and a shoddy liberalism bursting and running over with self-content in its
\nnarrow practical rationality, spiritual poverty and intellectual ineptitude. Unteachable, it bore with a scornful complacency
\nor bewildered anger or a listening ear of impervious indulgence the lightning shafts of Arnold’s irony, the turbid fulminations of
\nCarlyle, the fiery raids of Ruskin or saw unaffected others of its fine or great spirits turn for refuge to mediaevalism or socialistic
\nutopias. The work of these forerunners was done in a wilderness of intellectual commonness and busy mediocre energy; it bore
\nfruit afterwards, but only when the century was in its wane and other infant powers of the immenser future were beginning to
\nraise their heads of cloud and light. <\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tBut this work of revolt and preparation was done chiefly in
\nprose. Poetry flourishes best when it is the rhythmical expression of the soul of its age, of what is greatest and deepest in it, but
\nstill belongs to it, and the poetry of this period suffers by the dull smoke-laden atmosphere in which it flowered; though it
\nprofited by the European stir of thought and seeking around and held its own, achieved beauty, achieved in one or two poets a considerable energy, some largeness, occasional heights, there is still something sickly in its luxuriance, a comparative
\ndepression and poverty in its thought, a lack in its gifts, in its very accomplishment a sense of something not done. It cannot
\ncompare in power, wing, abundance of genius and talent with<\/p>\n

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\n

\nthe contemporary work done in France: as in all intellectual ages the grand stream of poetical achievement is to be found, in spite
\nof the greater poetic energy of the Anglo-Celtic mind, on the continent, in the clear and competent labour of the Latin intelligence. There is certainly much imaginative beauty, much artistic or fine or strong technical execution,
\n\t\t\t\u2014 a great deal more in
\nfact of this element than at any previous time, \u2014 much excellent work high enough in the second rank, but the inner surge and
\nsatisfaction of a free or deep spirit, the strong high-riding pinion or the skyward look, these things are rare in Victorian poetry. <\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tThe fame of Tennyson, now a little dimmed and tarnished by the breath of Time, occupied this epoch with a great and
\nimmediate brilliance. He is unquestionably the representative English poet of his time. He mirrors its ordinary cultivated mind
\nas it shaped in the English temperament and intelligence, with an extraordinary fidelity and in a richly furnished and heavily
\ndecorated mirror set round with all the art and device that could be appreciated by the contemporary taste. There has been no
\nmore consummate master of the language, and this mastery is used with a careful, sure and unfailing hand. Whatever has to
\nbe expressed, whether it be of considerable, mediocre or no worth, is yet given a greater than its intrinsic value by a power
\nof speech which without any such remarkable or astonishing energy as would excite or exalt the mind or disturb it from a
\nsafe acquiescence and a luxurious ease of reception, has always a sufficient felicity, curiously worked even when it affects simplicity, but with a chastened if not quite chaste curiosity. The turn of phrase almost always hits the mind with a certain, sometimes
\neasy, sometimes elaborate poetic device. It turns always to find and does find the pictorial value of the thing to be described,
\nand even, if such a phrase can be used, the pictorial value of the thought to be seized. There is a similar happiness of device
\nand effect in the verse; if there are no great lyrical, odic or epic outbursts to sweep us out of ourselves, there is the same
\nwell-governed craft of effective turn and invention as in the language, the same peculiar manner of easily carried elaborateness,
\na leisurely but never sluggish self-considering self-adorning flow    <\/p>\n

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\n

\nwhich succeeds in being immediately received and accepted. The art with which the subject matter is dressed up is of the same
\nkind; a restrained elaborateness, a curious picturesqueness of presentation, a taking, sometimes opulent and effective form.
\nThe refinement and felicity are not of a kind which call for any unusual receptive power or aesthetic fineness to meet it and
\nfeel all its beauty; there is enough and to spare to attract the cultured, nothing to baffle or exceed the ordinary mind. This art
\nis that of a master craftsman, a goldsmith, silversmith, jeweller of speech and substance with much of the decorative painter
\nin his turn, who never travels beyond general, well-understood and popular ideas and forms, but gives them by his fineness
\nof manner and felicity of image a charm and distinction which belong more properly to rarer and greater or lovelier motives.
\nThe achievement is of a kind which would hardly be worth doing more than once, but done that once and with such mastery it
\ntakes its place and compels admiration. The spirit is not filled and satisfied, much less uplifted, but the outer aesthetic mind is
\ncaught and for a time held captive. <\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tBut it is doubtful whether the future will attach to Tennyson’s poetry anything at all near to the value it assumed for the contemporary English mind. When we try to estimate the
\nsubstance and see what it permanently gives or what new thing it discovers for the poetic vision, we find that there is extraordinarily little in the end. Tennyson wrote much narrative poetry, but he is not a great narrative poet. There is a curious blending
\nof incompatible intentions in all his work of this kind and even his exceptional skill could not save him from a brilliant failure.
\nHe has on the one side a will to convey some high spiritual and ethical intention of life through the imaginative use of tale
\nand legend, and that could give a scope for a very noble kind of poetry, but he has not the power to lay a great hold on the ancient
\nfigures and recreate them to be symbols of a new significance. The Idylls of the King
\n<\/i>miss both the romantic and the idyllic
\nbeauty and arrive only at a graceful decorated effective triviality. The grand old Celtic myths and traditions already strangely
\nmediaevalised by Malory, but full still of life and large humanity<\/p>\n

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\n

\nand colour are modernised into a baffling and disappointing superficiality and miss all greatness and power of life. There is
\nno congruity between the form and symbol and the feeling and substance. They seem solely to be used to frame a conventional
\nsentimentalism of Victorian domesticity and respectable social ethics. But the wearing of the white and scentless flower of a
\nblameless life in a correct button-hole and a tepid sinning without the least tinge of passion or conviction by decorated puppets
\nwho are too evidently lay-figures of very modern ladies and gentlemen disguised as knights and dames, was hardly a sufficient
\njustification for evoking the magic figures of old legend and romance. The life so masqueraded misses reality and it does not
\narrive at any great compensating imaginative or interpretative representation; modernism and the affectation of mediaevalism,
\nconventional reality and the falsetto tones of pseudo-romance destroy each other and produce a glittering incongruity. There
\nis a void of the true sincerity of poetic vision at the heart of the original conception and no amount of craft and skill in language
\nor descriptive detail and picture can cure that original deficiency. The poet has no meditative, no emotional or impassioned, no
\nclose or revealing grasp on life, and on the other hand no deep interpretative idea, and without one or other of these things
\nnarrative poetry of the modern kind cannot succeed; it becomes a body without soul or life-breath. Even when Tennyson confines
\nhimself to the poetic modern tale without these disguises or any motive but the ethically pointed telling, he arrives at the same
\nresult, a richly coloured triviality. <\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tThis principal work of his maturity fails; its popularity
\nsprings from its work of detail and its appeal to the superficial sentiment of the time: but some earlier work of the kind had
\na nobler success. In the Morte d’Arthur <\/i>there is some natural magic and vision which if it had been sustained and kept the
\nsame delicate and mystic strain, might have made the cycle of idylls a new poetic revelation. In other poems, in the
\nLotos-Eaters<\/i>, Ulysses<\/i>, Oenone<\/i>, where set narrative is avoided and the legend is a starting-point or support for thought, vision
\nand beauty, some fullness of these things is reached; but still    <\/p>\n

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\n

\nthe form is greater than the substance which has no heights and only occasionally strikes depths. Tennyson does not figure
\nlargely as a lyrical poet in spite of one or two inspired and happy moments; for he has neither the lyrical passion and intoxication
\nnor the profounder depth of lyrical feeling. In his description of Nature there is no greater seeing, but a painting of vivid details
\ndetached for simile and ornament, and though he worked up a great accuracy of observation and colour, the deeper sincerity of
\nthe born Nature-poets is absent. Finally he gives us a good deal of thinking of a kind in often admirably telling phrase and with
\nmuch art of setting, but he is not a revealing poetical thinker. His thought seldom escapes from the conventional limits of a
\ncultivated, but not a large or original Victorian mind; it beautifies most often the obvious and commonplace or the current and
\nacceptable ideas; with rare exceptions he has neither exaltations nor profundities nor subtleties nor surprises. A great poetical
\ncraftsman turning many forms to account for the displaying of an unusual power of descriptive and decorative language and
\na verse of most skilled device, but no very great purpose and substance, this he is from beginning to end of his creation. His
\nart suffers from the excess of value of form over value of content; it incurs a liability to a besetting note of artificiality, a frequent
\nfalsetto tone of prettiness, an excessive stress, a colouring which is often too bright for the stuff it hues and is unevenly laid,
\nbut it is always taking and effective. By his very limitation of mind he becomes the representative poet of a certain side of the
\nEnglish mentality, not in its originality and adventurous power, but in its temperate convention and fixity, renders its liberalism
\nand its conservatism, its love of freedom and dislike of idealism, its surface common sense of doubt and traditional belief, its
\nsuccessful way of dealing with its material, its formal ethicism and its absence of passion. But to all these things he brings an
\nartistic decorative quality which is new in English poetry. He has left his stamp on the language and has given starting-points
\nand forms for poets of a rarer force to turn to greater uses and pass beyond them to a new construction. <\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tTennyson is the most representative and successful poet of<\/p>\n

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\n

\nthe Victorian epoch. Others who have not the same limitations, either fall below him in art or have a less sustained and considerable bulk and variety of work. Swinburne brings in into the poetry of the time elements to which the rest are strangers. He
\nhas a fire and passion and vehemence of song which is foreign to their temperament. He brings in too the continental note of
\ndenial, atheistic affirmation, sceptical revolt, passionate political idealism, but to these things he gives the Anglo-Celtic aggressiveness and violence, not the Latin sureness and clarity. He is a great lyrist, but like many of his contemporaries revels too much
\nin device and virtuosities of form and his lyrical thought and sentiment turn easily to the dithyrambic note, are marred by excess,
\ndiffuseness, an inequality in the inspiration and the height and tone. But he has especially in his earlier poetry done work of a
\nperfect and highly wrought beauty, a marvellous music. There is often a captivatingly rich and sensuous appeal in his language
\nand not unoften it rises to a splendid magnificence. Atalanta<\/i> in Calydon<\/i>,
\nDolores<\/i>, Hertha<\/i>, The Garden of Proserpine <\/i>and
\nnumerous other poems with the same perfect workmanship will always stand among the consummate achievements of English
\npoetry. He is at his best one of the great lyrical singers; he writes in a flood and sweep and passion of melody: he is unique as a
\nvoice of all-round revolt, political, moral and of every kind, and in this lies his main significance. But he exhausts himself too
\nsoon; the reproach of emptiness can be brought against much of his work and his later voice becomes empty of significance but
\nnot of resonance. The quieter classical power of Arnold which voices the less confident search of a self-doubting scepticism,
\nhas lucidity, balance and grace, a fine though restricted and tenuous strain of thought and a deep and penetrating melancholy,
\nthe mediaevalism and aesthetic mysticism of Rossetti, the slow dreamy narrative of Morris which takes us to a refuge from
\nthe blatancy and ugliness of the Victorian environment into the gracious world of old story and legend, bring in each their own
\nsignificance for the age and help towards that enrichment of the language of thought and artistic poetical feeling which is
\nthe chief work of this intervening time. They have all three this    <\/p>\n

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\n

\ncharacteristic that they are studious artists, \u2014 it is significant that two of them are painters and decorative craftsmen,
\n\t\t\t\u2014 who
\nare concerned to give beauty and finish to the material of poetry rather than original poets with a large power of inspiration.
\nTheir range is small, but they have brought into English poetry a turn for fine execution which is likely to be a long-abiding
\ninfluence. <\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tAmong the Victorians Browning stands next to Tennyson in
\nthe importance of his poetic work and station as a representative figure of the age and creator. He surpasses him indeed in the mass
\nand force and abundant variety of his work and the protean energy of his genius. His inventiveness of form and range and
\nvariety of subject are prodigious; he turns to every quarter of the world, seizes on every human situation, seems to be trying to
\nexhaust a study of all possible human personalities and minds and characters and turn his eye on every age and period of
\nhistory and many countries and all possible scenes and extract from them their meaning and their interest for the satisfaction of
\nhis universal curiosity and his living and inexhaustible interest in the vividness and abundance of the life of earth and man. He has
\nan equal interest in the human mind and its turns of thinking of all kinds and its human aims, ambitions, seekings and wants to
\npursue it everywhere in its ramifications, in its starts of individuality, peaks, windings, even all manner of borrowings of thought
\nand feeling, nothing human is foreign to his research and pursuit, all enters into this prodigious embrace. This gives to his poetry
\na range and unceasing interest and richness of attraction which surpasses immeasurably all that his contemporaries can give us
\nin wideness of the call of life, even though in them the poetic height to which they draw us may be greater than his. In his
\nmass of creation he can be regarded as the most remarkable in invention and wideness, if not the most significant builder and
\nnarrator of the drama of human life in his time. <\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tBrowning stands apart also from the other contemporary
\npoets in the character and personality of his work. He is in many ways the very opposite of them all. He is the one robust
\nand masculine voice among these artists, sceptics, idealists or<\/p>\n

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\n

\ndreamers, always original, vigorous, inexhaustible; with a great range of interests, a buoyant hold on life, a strong and clear
\neye, an assured belief and hope but no traditional conventionality, he alone adequately represents the curious, critical, eager,
\nexploring mind of the age. He has depth and force and abundance of a certain kind of thought, which if not of the very first
\ngreatness and originality, is open to all manner of questioning and speculation and new idea. His regard ranges over history
\nand delights in its pictures of the stir and energy of life and its changing scenes, over man and his thought and character
\nand emotion and action, looks into every cranny, follows every tortuous winding, seizes on each leap and start of the human
\nmachine. He is a student, critic, psychologist, thinker. He seeks to interpret, like certain French poets, the civilisations and the
\nages. His genius is essentially dramatic; for though he has written in many lyrical forms, the lyric is used to represent a moment in
\nthe drama of life or character, and though he uses the narrative, his treatment of it is dramatic and not narrative, as when he takes
\nan Italian fait-divers <\/i>and makes each personage relate or discuss it in such a way as to reveal his own motive, character, thought
\nand passion. He does not succeed except perhaps once as a dramatist in the received forms because he is too analytic, too
\nmuch interested in the mechanism of temperament, character, emotion and changing idea to concentrate sufficiently on their
\nresults in action; but he has an unrivalled force in seizing on a moment of the soul or mind and in following its convolutions
\nas they start into dramatic thought, feeling and impulse. He of all these writers has hold of the substance of the work marked
\nout for a poet of the age. And with all these gifts we might have had in him the great interpretative poet, one might almost say,
\nthe Shakespeare of his time. But by the singular fatality which so often pursues the English poetical genius, the one gift needed
\nto complete him was denied. Power was there and the hold of his material; what was absent was the essential faculty of artistic
\nform and poetic beauty, so eminent in his contemporaries, a fatal deficiency. This great creator was no artist; this strength was too
\nrobust and direct to give forth sweetness. There was no lack of    <\/p>\n

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\na certain kind of skill. If not an artist in verse, Browning is a consummate technician, one might almost say a mechanician in
\nverse; his very roughnesses and crudities and contortions have the appearance of device and calculation. He had an immense
\ncommand of language and was never at a lack for forcible and efficient expression, but in its base though not in all its turns it
\nwas the language of a vigorous and vivid and colourful prosaist rather than of a poet, of the intellect and not the imagination.
\nHe could throw into it strong hues of the imagination, has sometimes though too seldom a vigorous richness and strong grace,
\nachieves often a lyric elevation, but they supervene upon this base and do not ordinarily suffuse and change it or elevate it to
\na high customary level. Much strong and forceful work he did of a great and robust substance, won many victories, but the
\nsupreme greatness cannot come in poetry without the supreme beauty. <\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tArnold is a third considerable Victorian poet of the epoch, though he bulks less than the two more abundant writers who
\nhave till now held the first place. But as time goes on his figure emerges and assumes in quality though not in mass of work
\na first importance. His poetic work and quality may even be regarded as finer in its essence of poetic value if more tenuous
\nin show of power than that of his two contemporaries. There is a return to the true classic style of poetry in the simplicity and
\nstraightforward directness of his diction and turn of thought that brings us back to the way of the earlier poets and gives
\na certain seriousness and power which we do not find in the over-consciousness and the too studied simplicity or elaborate
\ncarefulness and purposeful artistry of the other poets of the time. This imparts a note of depth and sincerity to his passion
\nand his pathos, a character of high seriousness to his reflection and meditative thought, a greatness and strength to his moments
\nof height and elevated force which raise him above the ordinary levels around him and create an impression of the truest poetry,
\nthe most genuine in poetic value, if not in effect the greatest of this Victorian age. His simplicity is a true thing and not the overstudied false simplicity of Tennyson; his thought is free from<\/p>\n

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\n

\n\t\t\tthe conventionality and platitude which constantly meets us in
\nTennyson’s thinking; he can achieve the strongest effects, even the romantic effect without the overwrought romantic colour
\nof Rossetti, Swinburne’s overpitch or Tennyson’s too frequent overcharge and decorative preciosity of expression. We are at
\nease with him and can be sure that he will not say too much but just what the true poet in him has to say and no more. For this
\nreason he was able to bring into Victorian poetry the expression of the most characteristic trains of thought expressing the
\ncontemporary mind and temperament at its highest and best. Tennyson voices the conventional English mind, Swinburne a
\nhigh-pitched cry of revolt or a revolutionary passion for freedom or even for licence; Rossetti and Morris take refuge in mediaevalism as they saw it: Arnold strikes out the more serious notes of contemporary thinking. He fails however to look beyond to
\nthe future. In one respect of literary workmanship he does however anticipate future trends; for he makes a departure towards
\ncertain tendencies of modernist forms of verse. He made the first attempt at any regular free verse and thus anticipated the
\nmodernist departure from metrical forms. He attempted also an imitation of the Greek dramatic form but not with Swinburne’s
\noriginality and the success achieved in Atalanta in Calydon<\/i>. <\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tThis is the balance of the Victorian epoch; a considerable
\nintellectual and artistic endeavour, contradicting, overcoming but still hampered by an ungenial atmosphere; two remarkable
\npoets held back from the first greatness, one by imperfection of form, the other by imperfection of substance; four artists of less
\nrange, but with work of an accomplished, but overpitched or thin or languorous beauty; an enrichment and strengthening of
\nthe language which makes it more capable of fine and varied and curious thought, and the creation of an artistic conscience
\nwhich may impose in the future a check on the impulse of an overabundant energy to imperfection of eager haste and vagary
\nin execution. If the promise of the coming age is fulfilled, it may be remembered as a fine, if limited period of preparation for the
\ndiscovery of new, more beautiful and grander fields of poetry.   <\/p>\n

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Chapter XIX    The Victorian Poets   THE EPOCH associated in England with the name of Victoria was in poetry, like that of Pope and…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[38],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-1720","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-26-the-future-poetry","wpcat-38-id"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1720","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1720"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1720\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1720"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1720"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1720"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}