{"id":167427,"date":"2024-05-01T10:15:21","date_gmt":"2024-05-01T14:15:21","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/?p=167427"},"modified":"2024-05-02T16:53:00","modified_gmt":"2024-05-02T20:53:00","slug":"between-the-world-and-the-universe-a-woman-is-thinking","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2024\/05\/01\/between-the-world-and-the-universe-a-woman-is-thinking\/","title":{"rendered":"Between the World and the Universe, a Woman Is Thinking"},"content":{"rendered":"
\"\"

Poem by Alice Notley, in the collection Grave of Light<\/em>. Courtesy of Wesleyan University Press. Photograph by Sara Nicholson.<\/p><\/div>\n

Poets have always known how inadequate language is. The speaker of this poem knows it well. No matter how hard she tries to capture the sublime or primordial essence of being, words fail her. Alice Notley herself has written about this in an essay, first published in 1998, called \u201cThe Poetics of Disobedience\u201d: \u201cI feel ambivalent about words, I know they don\u2019t work, I know they aren\u2019t it. I don\u2019t in the least feel that everything is language.\u201d Her poem “The World, All That Live & All That Occur” rubs up against the edge of the unsayable. Notice that it begins with \u201cthe world\u201d and ends with \u201cthe Universe,\u201d that its very structure points to the poem\u2019s origin in and return to an infinite space beyond language. Paradoxically, impossibly, the poem is bounded by boundlessness.<\/p>\n

The poem\u2019s situation is simple. A woman is looking out a window on a rainy day in New York City, 1977. She remembers a fight from the week before. She watches a man cross the street. She is also contemplating the nature of being, what she calls \u201cthe one organism.\u201d This is how she defines it: \u201cA monstrous life-death living not-dying \/ Caving-in upthrusting all over it- \/ Self like pits & mountains forever thing.\u201d She\u2019s speaking fast. These lines have a powerful rhythmic velocity. As she struggles to articulate an ontology, the words get squished together into a hilarious pileup of modifiers. It\u2019s funny, awkward. She knows her definition is inadequate, but it\u2019s the best she\u2019s got.<\/p>\n

Between the world and the universe, a woman is thinking. Unlike the man in the street\u2014and I think gender is important here, echoing back to the earlier \u201che\u201d\u2014she<\/em> is thinking about it. At its heart, this poem describes a compressed moment in time, put into stark relief by her contemplation of the great organism of being. The moment contains a droplet of eternity; Avenue A is metonymic for \u201cthe Universe.\u201d I hear an echo of William Blake\u2019s infinite grain of sand, in which we see writ minutely a whole world.<\/p>\n

The poem is full of contrasts. A wife and a husband. The thinking woman in the window, the unthinking man in the street. Men, who are bestial (they don\u2019t think, and they throw stuff), versus women, who are philosophical. The \u201c3 large books\u201d parallel the \u201chandful or 2 of hard, tight rain.\u201d Books, which serve as both a symbol of their fight and their source of reconciliation. The organism, which is all contradiction: its \u201clife-death\u201d shoots up and plunges down at the same time. The word all<\/em> in the title and first line, which functions as both a singular and plural noun. The word itself<\/em>, broken into \u201cit-\u201d and \u201cSelf,\u201d self and world. She describes the weather as gray when she\u2019d been in despair, but today \u201chappily\u201d as pearl. The poem\u2019s palette is all contrasting brights and darks. Tiny lights twinkling in a Christmas tree, her chiaroscuroed hand against a luminous sky.<\/p>\n

I\u2019ve always found this last image difficult to talk about. Maybe it\u2019s the word touching<\/em>, the fact that she tells us her fingers are literally touching the sky. She is merging with the organism, and the window has become a portal between her everyday life and a universal consciousness beyond. Or is it the odd word order\u2014\u201cfingers happily black touching\u201d instead of \u201cblack fingers happily touching\u201d\u2014that so arrests me here. It takes my breath away. Something is happening at the poem\u2019s atomic level. For Notley, poems enact a \u201cvibratory setting-off\u201d of language, a quantum field of movement, transformation, and condensed power. \u201cIt can\u2019t be taught and can barely be discussed,\u201d she writes. \u201cIt\u2019s maybe like, instead of describing an object, making you hear its atoms spin.\u201d<\/p>\n

Notley is a difficult poet. First there\u2019s the sheer volume of her work, nearly fifty books and chapbooks across six decades. Some of these are short, but others\u2014Alma, or the Dead Women<\/em>;\u00a0Benediction<\/em>;\u00a0and The Speak Angel Series<\/em>\u2014are sprawling epics, hundreds of pages long each. Much of her work, especially post-2000, is not especially excerptible or anthologizable. She has discussed widely her interest in dreams, telepathy, trance states, and communication with the dead, from whom she takes dictation regularly. \u201cI think most of my poems may be already written,\u201d she says in her most recent book, Being Reflected Upon<\/em>. These unwritten works are carved onto \u201ca stele or slab\u201d inside \u201ca vast green \u2018room\u2019 \/ with no walls floor or edges\u201d that she visits in dreams. She refuses to fall back on what others have said, to settle into a single mode or style\u2014she is as suspicious of received ideas as Descartes\u2014and the result is a furious integrity (\u201cOne must disobey everyone else in order to see at all,\u201d she writes in \u201cThe Poetics of Disobedience\u201d). Yet for all this, I find that many of her most difficult poems are short and unassuming, like this one. Inexhaustible. Poems whose atoms, magically, I can hear spin.<\/p>\n

I love this poem because it is beautiful. But it\u2019s also personal: I like reading about women thinking. Women like Isabel Archer and Anna Wulf, like the unnamed narrators of Ingeborg Bachmann\u2019s Malina<\/em> and Clarice Lispector\u2019s \u00c1gua Viva<\/em> and Claire-Louise Bennett\u2019s Checkout 19<\/em>. I\u2019m also a woman who likes to brood in windows. Where I live when I live in New York, there\u2019s a window seat that looks out onto the entrance to a neighborhood park. It\u2019s a powerful place to be anonymous. And as Notley\u2019s speaker knows, it\u2019s a good place to think. I like to think of her at the window of her then-apartment at 101 St. Mark\u2019s Place, like a Weather Angel, perched from on high. She\u2019s become a kind of goddess, dreaming the world into being. Dreams that, like so many great poems, are, according to Notley, \u201cmessy, embarrassing, truthful, sometimes clairvoyant.\u201d Like this poem, \u201cfull of exquisite release.\u201d<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Sara<\/span> Nicholson<\/span> is the author of three books of poems, most recently April<\/i>.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

\u201cAt its heart, this poem describes a compressed moment in time, put into stark relief by her contemplation of the great organism of being.\u201d<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2475,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[2157],"tags":[68529,67827,68775],"class_list":["post-167427","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-on-poetry","tag-alice-notley","tag-featured","tag-sara-nicholson"],"acf":[],"yoast_head":"\nBetween the World and the Universe, a Woman Is Thinking by Sara Nicholson<\/title>\n<meta name=\"description\" content=\"May 1, 2024 \u2013 \u201cAt its heart, this poem describes a compressed moment in time, put into stark relief by her contemplation of the great organism of being.\u201d\" \/>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" href=\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2024\/05\/01\/between-the-world-and-the-universe-a-woman-is-thinking\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"Between the World and the Universe, a Woman Is Thinking by Sara Nicholson\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:description\" content=\"May 1, 2024 \u2013 \u201cAt its heart, this poem describes a compressed moment in time, put into stark relief by her contemplation of the great organism of being.\u201d\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:url\" content=\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2024\/05\/01\/between-the-world-and-the-universe-a-woman-is-thinking\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:site_name\" content=\"The Paris Review\" \/>\n<meta property=\"article:publisher\" content=\"https:\/\/www.facebook.com\/parisreview\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"article:published_time\" content=\"2024-05-01T14:15:21+00:00\" \/>\n<meta property=\"article:modified_time\" content=\"2024-05-02T20:53:00+00:00\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:image\" content=\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/04\/notley-poem-scaled.jpg\" \/>\n\t<meta property=\"og:image:width\" content=\"1920\" \/>\n\t<meta property=\"og:image:height\" content=\"2560\" \/>\n\t<meta property=\"og:image:type\" content=\"image\/jpeg\" \/>\n<meta name=\"author\" content=\"Sara Nicholson\" \/>\n<meta name=\"twitter:card\" content=\"summary_large_image\" \/>\n<meta name=\"twitter:creator\" content=\"@parisreview\" \/>\n<meta name=\"twitter:site\" content=\"@parisreview\" \/>\n<meta name=\"twitter:label1\" content=\"Written by\" \/>\n\t<meta name=\"twitter:data1\" content=\"Sara Nicholson\" \/>\n\t<meta name=\"twitter:label2\" content=\"Est. reading time\" \/>\n\t<meta name=\"twitter:data2\" content=\"5 minutes\" \/>\n<script type=\"application\/ld+json\" class=\"yoast-schema-graph\">{\"@context\":\"https:\/\/schema.org\",\"@graph\":[{\"@type\":\"Article\",\"@id\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2024\/05\/01\/between-the-world-and-the-universe-a-woman-is-thinking\/#article\",\"isPartOf\":{\"@id\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2024\/05\/01\/between-the-world-and-the-universe-a-woman-is-thinking\/\"},\"author\":{\"name\":\"Sara Nicholson\",\"@id\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/#\/schema\/person\/b57b78faf4729e072cb6c16b0fbaa544\"},\"headline\":\"Between the World and the Universe, a Woman Is Thinking\",\"datePublished\":\"2024-05-01T14:15:21+00:00\",\"dateModified\":\"2024-05-02T20:53:00+00:00\",\"mainEntityOfPage\":{\"@id\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2024\/05\/01\/between-the-world-and-the-universe-a-woman-is-thinking\/\"},\"wordCount\":1058,\"publisher\":{\"@id\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/#organization\"},\"image\":{\"@id\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2024\/05\/01\/between-the-world-and-the-universe-a-woman-is-thinking\/#primaryimage\"},\"thumbnailUrl\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/04\/notley-poem-768x1024.jpg\",\"keywords\":[\"alice notley\",\"Featured\",\"sara nicholson\"],\"articleSection\":[\"On Poetry\"],\"inLanguage\":\"en-US\"},{\"@type\":\"WebPage\",\"@id\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2024\/05\/01\/between-the-world-and-the-universe-a-woman-is-thinking\/\",\"url\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2024\/05\/01\/between-the-world-and-the-universe-a-woman-is-thinking\/\",\"name\":\"Between the World and the Universe, a Woman Is Thinking by Sara Nicholson\",\"isPartOf\":{\"@id\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/#website\"},\"primaryImageOfPage\":{\"@id\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2024\/05\/01\/between-the-world-and-the-universe-a-woman-is-thinking\/#primaryimage\"},\"image\":{\"@id\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2024\/05\/01\/between-the-world-and-the-universe-a-woman-is-thinking\/#primaryimage\"},\"thumbnailUrl\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/04\/notley-poem-768x1024.jpg\",\"datePublished\":\"2024-05-01T14:15:21+00:00\",\"dateModified\":\"2024-05-02T20:53:00+00:00\",\"description\":\"May 1, 2024 \u2013 \u201cAt its heart, this poem describes a compressed moment in time, put into stark relief by her contemplation of the great organism of being.\u201d\",\"breadcrumb\":{\"@id\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2024\/05\/01\/between-the-world-and-the-universe-a-woman-is-thinking\/#breadcrumb\"},\"inLanguage\":\"en-US\",\"potentialAction\":[{\"@type\":\"ReadAction\",\"target\":[\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2024\/05\/01\/between-the-world-and-the-universe-a-woman-is-thinking\/\"]}]},{\"@type\":\"ImageObject\",\"inLanguage\":\"en-US\",\"@id\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2024\/05\/01\/between-the-world-and-the-universe-a-woman-is-thinking\/#primaryimage\",\"url\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/04\/notley-poem-scaled.jpg\",\"contentUrl\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/04\/notley-poem-scaled.jpg\",\"width\":1920,\"height\":2560},{\"@type\":\"BreadcrumbList\",\"@id\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2024\/05\/01\/between-the-world-and-the-universe-a-woman-is-thinking\/#breadcrumb\",\"itemListElement\":[{\"@type\":\"ListItem\",\"position\":1,\"name\":\"Home\",\"item\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/\"},{\"@type\":\"ListItem\",\"position\":2,\"name\":\"Between the World and the Universe, a Woman Is Thinking\"}]},{\"@type\":\"WebSite\",\"@id\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/#website\",\"url\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/\",\"name\":\"The Paris Review\",\"description\":\"The best prose, interviews, poetry, and art. Since 1953.\",\"publisher\":{\"@id\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/#organization\"},\"potentialAction\":[{\"@type\":\"SearchAction\",\"target\":{\"@type\":\"EntryPoint\",\"urlTemplate\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/?s={search_term_string}\"},\"query-input\":{\"@type\":\"PropertyValueSpecification\",\"valueRequired\":true,\"valueName\":\"search_term_string\"}}],\"inLanguage\":\"en-US\"},{\"@type\":\"Organization\",\"@id\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/#organization\",\"name\":\"The Paris Review\",\"url\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/\",\"logo\":{\"@type\":\"ImageObject\",\"inLanguage\":\"en-US\",\"@id\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/#\/schema\/logo\/image\/\",\"url\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/04\/tpr-hadada-roundell-logo-square.png\",\"contentUrl\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/04\/tpr-hadada-roundell-logo-square.png\",\"width\":696,\"height\":696,\"caption\":\"The Paris Review\"},\"image\":{\"@id\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/#\/schema\/logo\/image\/\"},\"sameAs\":[\"https:\/\/www.facebook.com\/parisreview\/\",\"https:\/\/x.com\/parisreview\",\"https:\/\/www.instagram.com\/parisreview\"]},{\"@type\":\"Person\",\"@id\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/#\/schema\/person\/b57b78faf4729e072cb6c16b0fbaa544\",\"name\":\"Sara Nicholson\",\"image\":{\"@type\":\"ImageObject\",\"inLanguage\":\"en-US\",\"@id\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/#\/schema\/person\/image\/\",\"url\":\"https:\/\/secure.gravatar.com\/avatar\/77f9dd9163ede8672a2ef70a6d91dc39b07fb76b7727d350a186edfe2945c6ab?s=96&d=mm&r=g\",\"contentUrl\":\"https:\/\/secure.gravatar.com\/avatar\/77f9dd9163ede8672a2ef70a6d91dc39b07fb76b7727d350a186edfe2945c6ab?s=96&d=mm&r=g\",\"caption\":\"Sara Nicholson\"},\"url\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/author\/snicholson\/\"}]}<\/script>\n<!-- \/ Yoast SEO Premium plugin. -->","yoast_head_json":{"title":"Between the World and the Universe, a Woman Is Thinking by Sara Nicholson","description":"May 1, 2024 \u2013 \u201cAt its heart, this poem describes a compressed moment in time, put into stark relief by her contemplation of the great organism of being.\u201d","robots":{"index":"index","follow":"follow","max-snippet":"max-snippet:-1","max-image-preview":"max-image-preview:large","max-video-preview":"max-video-preview:-1"},"canonical":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2024\/05\/01\/between-the-world-and-the-universe-a-woman-is-thinking\/","og_locale":"en_US","og_type":"article","og_title":"Between the World and the Universe, a Woman Is Thinking by Sara Nicholson","og_description":"May 1, 2024 \u2013 \u201cAt its heart, this poem describes a compressed moment in time, put into stark relief by her contemplation of the great organism of being.\u201d","og_url":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2024\/05\/01\/between-the-world-and-the-universe-a-woman-is-thinking\/","og_site_name":"The Paris Review","article_publisher":"https:\/\/www.facebook.com\/parisreview\/","article_published_time":"2024-05-01T14:15:21+00:00","article_modified_time":"2024-05-02T20:53:00+00:00","og_image":[{"width":1920,"height":2560,"url":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/04\/notley-poem-scaled.jpg","type":"image\/jpeg"}],"author":"Sara Nicholson","twitter_card":"summary_large_image","twitter_creator":"@parisreview","twitter_site":"@parisreview","twitter_misc":{"Written by":"Sara Nicholson","Est. reading time":"5 minutes"},"schema":{"@context":"https:\/\/schema.org","@graph":[{"@type":"Article","@id":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2024\/05\/01\/between-the-world-and-the-universe-a-woman-is-thinking\/#article","isPartOf":{"@id":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2024\/05\/01\/between-the-world-and-the-universe-a-woman-is-thinking\/"},"author":{"name":"Sara Nicholson","@id":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/#\/schema\/person\/b57b78faf4729e072cb6c16b0fbaa544"},"headline":"Between the World and the Universe, a Woman Is Thinking","datePublished":"2024-05-01T14:15:21+00:00","dateModified":"2024-05-02T20:53:00+00:00","mainEntityOfPage":{"@id":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2024\/05\/01\/between-the-world-and-the-universe-a-woman-is-thinking\/"},"wordCount":1058,"publisher":{"@id":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/#organization"},"image":{"@id":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2024\/05\/01\/between-the-world-and-the-universe-a-woman-is-thinking\/#primaryimage"},"thumbnailUrl":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/04\/notley-poem-768x1024.jpg","keywords":["alice notley","Featured","sara nicholson"],"articleSection":["On Poetry"],"inLanguage":"en-US"},{"@type":"WebPage","@id":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2024\/05\/01\/between-the-world-and-the-universe-a-woman-is-thinking\/","url":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2024\/05\/01\/between-the-world-and-the-universe-a-woman-is-thinking\/","name":"Between the World and the Universe, a Woman Is Thinking by Sara Nicholson","isPartOf":{"@id":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/#website"},"primaryImageOfPage":{"@id":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2024\/05\/01\/between-the-world-and-the-universe-a-woman-is-thinking\/#primaryimage"},"image":{"@id":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2024\/05\/01\/between-the-world-and-the-universe-a-woman-is-thinking\/#primaryimage"},"thumbnailUrl":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/04\/notley-poem-768x1024.jpg","datePublished":"2024-05-01T14:15:21+00:00","dateModified":"2024-05-02T20:53:00+00:00","description":"May 1, 2024 \u2013 \u201cAt its heart, this poem describes a compressed moment in time, put into stark relief by her contemplation of the great organism of being.\u201d","breadcrumb":{"@id":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2024\/05\/01\/between-the-world-and-the-universe-a-woman-is-thinking\/#breadcrumb"},"inLanguage":"en-US","potentialAction":[{"@type":"ReadAction","target":["https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2024\/05\/01\/between-the-world-and-the-universe-a-woman-is-thinking\/"]}]},{"@type":"ImageObject","inLanguage":"en-US","@id":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2024\/05\/01\/between-the-world-and-the-universe-a-woman-is-thinking\/#primaryimage","url":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/04\/notley-poem-scaled.jpg","contentUrl":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/04\/notley-poem-scaled.jpg","width":1920,"height":2560},{"@type":"BreadcrumbList","@id":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2024\/05\/01\/between-the-world-and-the-universe-a-woman-is-thinking\/#breadcrumb","itemListElement":[{"@type":"ListItem","position":1,"name":"Home","item":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/"},{"@type":"ListItem","position":2,"name":"Between the World and the Universe, a Woman Is Thinking"}]},{"@type":"WebSite","@id":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/#website","url":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/","name":"The Paris Review","description":"The best prose, interviews, poetry, and art. Since 1953.","publisher":{"@id":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/#organization"},"potentialAction":[{"@type":"SearchAction","target":{"@type":"EntryPoint","urlTemplate":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/?s={search_term_string}"},"query-input":{"@type":"PropertyValueSpecification","valueRequired":true,"valueName":"search_term_string"}}],"inLanguage":"en-US"},{"@type":"Organization","@id":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/#organization","name":"The Paris Review","url":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/","logo":{"@type":"ImageObject","inLanguage":"en-US","@id":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/#\/schema\/logo\/image\/","url":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/04\/tpr-hadada-roundell-logo-square.png","contentUrl":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/04\/tpr-hadada-roundell-logo-square.png","width":696,"height":696,"caption":"The Paris Review"},"image":{"@id":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/#\/schema\/logo\/image\/"},"sameAs":["https:\/\/www.facebook.com\/parisreview\/","https:\/\/x.com\/parisreview","https:\/\/www.instagram.com\/parisreview"]},{"@type":"Person","@id":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/#\/schema\/person\/b57b78faf4729e072cb6c16b0fbaa544","name":"Sara Nicholson","image":{"@type":"ImageObject","inLanguage":"en-US","@id":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/#\/schema\/person\/image\/","url":"https:\/\/secure.gravatar.com\/avatar\/77f9dd9163ede8672a2ef70a6d91dc39b07fb76b7727d350a186edfe2945c6ab?s=96&d=mm&r=g","contentUrl":"https:\/\/secure.gravatar.com\/avatar\/77f9dd9163ede8672a2ef70a6d91dc39b07fb76b7727d350a186edfe2945c6ab?s=96&d=mm&r=g","caption":"Sara Nicholson"},"url":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/author\/snicholson\/"}]}},"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/167427","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2475"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=167427"}],"version-history":[{"count":8,"href":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/167427\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":167480,"href":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/167427\/revisions\/167480"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=167427"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=167427"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=167427"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}