{"id":81921,"date":"2015-01-22T12:04:23","date_gmt":"2015-01-22T17:04:23","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/?p=81921"},"modified":"2015-01-22T12:17:11","modified_gmt":"2015-01-22T17:17:11","slug":"the-post-salamunian-period","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2015\/01\/22\/the-post-salamunian-period\/","title":{"rendered":"The Post-\u0160alamunian Period"},"content":{"rendered":"

Remembering Toma\u017e \u0160alamun<\/em>.<\/p>\n

\"Spier<\/a>

Salamun at the Spier Poetry Festival, 2014. Photo: Retha Ferguson<\/p><\/div>\n

I had written to tell Toma\u017e \u0160alamun he\u2019d changed my life\u2014thanks to him, I\u2019d begun to put down roots in a new continent, and met the woman I was going to marry. I had at least assumed I could take him out to dinner on his next visit to the U.S. The letter went unanswered for a couple of weeks and then a reply materialized in my inbox. \u201cWith my last strength I greet you,\u201d he wrote, dictating the letter to his wife, the painter Metka Kra\u0161ovec, \u201cenjoy the States, I think this is the best place for you.\u201d Five weeks later, on December 27, 2014, \u0160alamun passed away in his beloved Ljubljana.<\/p>\n

I had only met him once, at a festival on a wine estate outside Stellenbosch in 2013, but he had made an immediate and lasting impression. It took me a few days to shape my speechlessness into an answer. \u201cHe is calm and patient,\u201d Metka assured me in her postscript, \u201cand he accepted his death the moment he found out about his cancer.\u201d I had assumed he was all but immortal, sustained by the unfettered vitality that electrified all of his poems. After all, this was the man who beat Lucretius up his ass<\/a>, thought killing smelled good<\/a>, stuffed Mitteleuropa with shine and \u201ccut off [her] claustrophobic head with a clasp knife<\/a>\u201d; who paused halfway through a poem to wonder how he would make love that day, \u201cwill I be like a pasha, a conquistador, will I\/tremble, amazed and quiet?<\/a>\u201d It was thus greatly distressing to learn he\u2019d spent the last three months of his life suffering from such vertigo that it left him unable to read, write, or walk by himself. I had sensed a hint of frailty during our time in South Africa. During a weekend at a farm on the banks of the Berg River, our host had offered to take us on a ride through his holdings, and although I\u2019d seen Toma\u017e eye the horse somewhat longingly, he\u2019d excused himself saying he\u2019d hurt his back, but didn\u2019t tell us how. I wish he had: as Christopher Merrill informed us in his elegant tribute, Toma\u017e injured himself tobogganing down the Great Wall of China<\/a>. Of course he had. <\/p>\n

Famously wild with his words, Toma\u017e was also renowned for his generosity toward younger poets. During the festival, I\u2019d mentioned how I\u2019d grown tired of Europe, and believed the continent was sleepwalking into a form of creeping fascism; he immediately suggested I apply to various American artists\u2019 colonies, and when I replied that I hated the thought of asking anyone for a reference, he slapped me on the shoulder and said he\u2019d take care of it. True to his word, I found a parcel of references waiting for me on my return from South Africa, and a couple of months later I left Europe for good. Helping younger writers wasn\u2019t mere kindness\u2014it was part and parcel with his vision of the world, an acknowledgement that each generation constituted a vital vertebra in the backbone of humanity. A few pages into The Revolt of the Young<\/em>, the Egyptian writer Tawf\u012bq al-\u1e24ak\u012bm makes an impassioned plea: \u201cIntellectuals, before all others, should look ahead to the intellectual life of the years to come and make preparations for others to take their place, paving the way for new talents to appear and ripen. The question, ever in the mind is, what will happen in the next ten or twenty years?\u201d<\/p>\n

Few poets understood this better than Toma\u017e \u0160alamun. In \u201cDuma \u201964,\u201d the celebrated poem which earned him five days in prison\u2014mostly because he\u2019d unwittingly lampooned the Minister of the Interior by calling him a \u201cdead cat\u201d\u2014he had satirized his country\u2019s \u201cfawning intellectuals\u201d and their \u201csmall sweaty hands,\u201d frustrated by \u201crectors with muzzles on [their] snouts,\u201d and \u201cmummies who applaud[ed] passions and sufferings in an academic way.\u201d Poets had to do more than that. Raised in a country that pompously declared five-year plans could be achieved in four, Toma\u017e insisted on highly individual poems that irreverently bared all our cruelty, hypocrisy and callowness for all to see. Dictatorships have always despised comedians and poets, and with good reason: as James Baldwin once wrote, \u201cfor power to feel truly menaced, it must somehow sense itself in the presence of another power\u2014or, more accurately, an energy\u2014which it has not known how to define and therefore does not really know how to control.\u201d<\/p>\n

Adults tend to find children creepy\u2014even worse, uncontrollable\u2014which perhaps explains why they feature so heavily in our horror films, and Toma\u017e took the notion of the enfant terrible to its logical conclusion. Much of his genius lay in unearthing the childlike sense of wonder most adults tend to suppress in order to help steer our minds towards uncomfortable truths. Toma\u017e\u2019s children could be cruel, gleeful, or scared, but they were never anything less than human. He could also accomplish this with great humor. Take the opening lines of \u201cDuomo\u201d: \u201cWhen they gave orders to make me pants for first\/communion they cut them as shorts. So I went to\/confirmation as a boy scout too. On the way, I kept\/killing rats with my keys. I was afraid they would eat my\/bike.\u201d<\/p>\n

Inspired in equal parts by Russian futurists, French surrealists, and New York School poets, as Colm T\u00f3ib\u00edn noted, Toma\u017e was nevertheless too slippery to be compared to anything<\/a>. His poems will continue to defy categorization, but they will be remembered for the way they walked the tightrope between ecstasy and despair, the rational and the irrational, the sublime and the horrible. At his finest, Toma\u017e could even achieve this in less than twenty-five words:<\/p>\n

\n

RAIN<\/p>\n

It rained during the night.
Did the snails sleep or paddle?
The pine tree strained itself and grew for a millimeter
and there, far away, Lebanon was bombed.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

Published in 1985, but only translated into English in 2014, the poems in Soy Realidad<\/em> were some of the last Toma\u017e would write for a while. By his own admission, he didn\u2019t pen a single poem from 1989 to 1994, and even suffered a breakdown while in residence at Yaddo. He, too, had his problems, but he held fast to his sense of adventure, both personally and creatively. Though I didn\u2019t know him for long, I will miss him greatly.<\/p>\n

Over the past few weeks I\u2019ve thought of that old proverbial rhyme, \u201cfor want of a nail,\u201d whereby the loss of a horseshoe cripples a horse, toppling a knight whose dispatch then isn\u2019t delivered\u2014turning the tide of the battle and ending in the loss of a kingdom. \u201cWell, maybe the kingdom was ruled by an evil dictator,\u201d Toma\u017e might have said. He believed poems should have happy endings. \u201cIt is strange,\u201d Metka wrote in a recent letter, \u201cisn\u2019t it, how life brings people together even for a very brief moment and how that can change a lot of things.\u201d<\/p>\n

\n

ABOUT HEAVEN AND EARTH<\/p>\n

\u00a0In the post-\u0160alamunian period,
in the year of our Lord three,
while cooking chicken as per Metka\u2019s
instructions, to save a little, and
to need not go to the earth
too soon;
I watch the sunset and tell
myself: I know,
the sun is in my chest.
What will they do
if I don\u2019t give it back.
Better throw this counting
in their head.
Call the number, the taxi will
take you to the plane.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

Soy Realidad: Poems<\/a>, translated by Michael Thomas Taren and Toma\u017e \u0160alamun, was published in September 2014.<\/em><\/p>\n

A marathon reading of texts and poems in honor of Toma\u017e \u0160alamun\u00a0will be held at the Mini Teater in Ljubljana on February 3. The event will be broadcast on RTV Slovenija and globally via Skype.<\/em><\/p>\n

Andr\u00e9 Naffis-Sahely\u2019s poetry was most recently featured in <\/em>The Best British Poetry 2014. His latest translation is <\/em>The Physiology of the Employee by\u00a0Honor\u00e9 de Balzac.<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Remembering Toma\u017e \u0160alamun. I had written to tell Toma\u017e \u0160alamun he\u2019d changed my life\u2014thanks to him, I\u2019d begun to put down roots in a new continent, and met the woman I was going to marry. I had at least assumed I could take him out to dinner on his next visit to the U.S. The […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":789,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[27],"tags":[16711,16709,16712,7221,165,16708,16714,16713,16710],"class_list":["post-81921","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-in-memoriam","tag-avant-garde","tag-central-europe","tag-ljubljana","tag-poems","tag-poetry","tag-slovenia","tag-soy-realidad","tag-the-great-wall-of-china","tag-tomaz-salamun"],"acf":[],"yoast_head":"\nRemembering Toma\u017e \u0160alamun and His Poetry<\/title>\n<meta name=\"description\" content=\"\u0160alamun, who died last month, took the notion of the enfant terrible to its logical conclusion. His poems walk the tightrope between ecstasy and despair...\" \/>\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\/2015\/01\/22\/the-post-salamunian-period\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"The Post-\u0160alamunian Period by Andr\u00e9 Naffis-Sahely\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:description\" content=\"January 22, 2015 \u2013 Remembering Toma\u017e \u0160alamun. I had written to tell Toma\u017e \u0160alamun he\u2019d changed my life\u2014thanks to him, I\u2019d begun to put down roots in a new continent, and met\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:url\" content=\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2015\/01\/22\/the-post-salamunian-period\/\" \/>\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=\"2015-01-22T17:04:23+00:00\" \/>\n<meta property=\"article:modified_time\" content=\"2015-01-22T17:17:11+00:00\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:image\" content=\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2015\/01\/spier-3.jpg\" \/>\n\t<meta property=\"og:image:width\" content=\"900\" \/>\n\t<meta property=\"og:image:height\" content=\"600\" \/>\n\t<meta property=\"og:image:type\" content=\"image\/jpeg\" \/>\n<meta name=\"author\" content=\"Andr\u00e9 Naffis-Sahely\" \/>\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=\"Andr\u00e9 Naffis-Sahely\" \/>\n\t<meta name=\"twitter:label2\" content=\"Est. reading time\" \/>\n\t<meta name=\"twitter:data2\" content=\"7 minutes\" \/>\n<script type=\"application\/ld+json\" class=\"yoast-schema-graph\">{\"@context\":\"https:\/\/schema.org\",\"@graph\":[{\"@type\":\"Article\",\"@id\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2015\/01\/22\/the-post-salamunian-period\/#article\",\"isPartOf\":{\"@id\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2015\/01\/22\/the-post-salamunian-period\/\"},\"author\":{\"name\":\"Andr\u00e9 Naffis-Sahely\",\"@id\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/#\/schema\/person\/70989a53dafd430c6582822c3100a82b\"},\"headline\":\"The Post-\u0160alamunian Period\",\"datePublished\":\"2015-01-22T17:04:23+00:00\",\"dateModified\":\"2015-01-22T17:17:11+00:00\",\"mainEntityOfPage\":{\"@id\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2015\/01\/22\/the-post-salamunian-period\/\"},\"wordCount\":1356,\"commentCount\":11,\"publisher\":{\"@id\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/#organization\"},\"image\":{\"@id\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2015\/01\/22\/the-post-salamunian-period\/#primaryimage\"},\"thumbnailUrl\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2015\/01\/spier-3.jpg\",\"keywords\":[\"avant-garde\",\"Central Europe\",\"Ljubljana\",\"poems\",\"poetry\",\"Slovenia\",\"Soy Realidad\",\"the Great Wall of China\",\"Tomaz Salamun\"],\"articleSection\":[\"In Memoriam\"],\"inLanguage\":\"en-US\",\"potentialAction\":[{\"@type\":\"CommentAction\",\"name\":\"Comment\",\"target\":[\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2015\/01\/22\/the-post-salamunian-period\/#respond\"]}]},{\"@type\":\"WebPage\",\"@id\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2015\/01\/22\/the-post-salamunian-period\/\",\"url\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2015\/01\/22\/the-post-salamunian-period\/\",\"name\":\"Remembering Toma\u017e \u0160alamun and His Poetry\",\"isPartOf\":{\"@id\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/#website\"},\"primaryImageOfPage\":{\"@id\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2015\/01\/22\/the-post-salamunian-period\/#primaryimage\"},\"image\":{\"@id\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2015\/01\/22\/the-post-salamunian-period\/#primaryimage\"},\"thumbnailUrl\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2015\/01\/spier-3.jpg\",\"datePublished\":\"2015-01-22T17:04:23+00:00\",\"dateModified\":\"2015-01-22T17:17:11+00:00\",\"description\":\"\u0160alamun, who died last month, took the notion of the enfant terrible to its logical conclusion. His poems walk the tightrope between ecstasy and despair...\",\"breadcrumb\":{\"@id\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2015\/01\/22\/the-post-salamunian-period\/#breadcrumb\"},\"inLanguage\":\"en-US\",\"potentialAction\":[{\"@type\":\"ReadAction\",\"target\":[\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2015\/01\/22\/the-post-salamunian-period\/\"]}]},{\"@type\":\"ImageObject\",\"inLanguage\":\"en-US\",\"@id\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2015\/01\/22\/the-post-salamunian-period\/#primaryimage\",\"url\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2015\/01\/spier-3.jpg\",\"contentUrl\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2015\/01\/spier-3.jpg\"},{\"@type\":\"BreadcrumbList\",\"@id\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2015\/01\/22\/the-post-salamunian-period\/#breadcrumb\",\"itemListElement\":[{\"@type\":\"ListItem\",\"position\":1,\"name\":\"Home\",\"item\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/\"},{\"@type\":\"ListItem\",\"position\":2,\"name\":\"The Post-\u0160alamunian Period\"}]},{\"@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\/70989a53dafd430c6582822c3100a82b\",\"name\":\"Andr\u00e9 Naffis-Sahely\",\"image\":{\"@type\":\"ImageObject\",\"inLanguage\":\"en-US\",\"@id\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/#\/schema\/person\/image\/\",\"url\":\"https:\/\/secure.gravatar.com\/avatar\/4c2a50074086a4aa955fbbb8bdd4084592d7d7a702f39e58ba7eb96a04333e92?s=96&d=mm&r=g\",\"contentUrl\":\"https:\/\/secure.gravatar.com\/avatar\/4c2a50074086a4aa955fbbb8bdd4084592d7d7a702f39e58ba7eb96a04333e92?s=96&d=mm&r=g\",\"caption\":\"Andr\u00e9 Naffis-Sahely\"},\"url\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/author\/anaffissahely\/\"}]}<\/script>\n<!-- \/ Yoast SEO Premium plugin. -->","yoast_head_json":{"title":"Remembering Toma\u017e \u0160alamun and His Poetry","description":"\u0160alamun, who died last month, took the notion of the enfant terrible to its logical conclusion. His poems walk the tightrope between ecstasy and despair...","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\/2015\/01\/22\/the-post-salamunian-period\/","og_locale":"en_US","og_type":"article","og_title":"The Post-\u0160alamunian Period by Andr\u00e9 Naffis-Sahely","og_description":"January 22, 2015 \u2013 Remembering Toma\u017e \u0160alamun. I had written to tell Toma\u017e \u0160alamun he\u2019d changed my life\u2014thanks to him, I\u2019d begun to put down roots in a new continent, and met","og_url":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2015\/01\/22\/the-post-salamunian-period\/","og_site_name":"The Paris Review","article_publisher":"https:\/\/www.facebook.com\/parisreview\/","article_published_time":"2015-01-22T17:04:23+00:00","article_modified_time":"2015-01-22T17:17:11+00:00","og_image":[{"width":900,"height":600,"url":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2015\/01\/spier-3.jpg","type":"image\/jpeg"}],"author":"Andr\u00e9 Naffis-Sahely","twitter_card":"summary_large_image","twitter_creator":"@parisreview","twitter_site":"@parisreview","twitter_misc":{"Written by":"Andr\u00e9 Naffis-Sahely","Est. reading time":"7 minutes"},"schema":{"@context":"https:\/\/schema.org","@graph":[{"@type":"Article","@id":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2015\/01\/22\/the-post-salamunian-period\/#article","isPartOf":{"@id":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2015\/01\/22\/the-post-salamunian-period\/"},"author":{"name":"Andr\u00e9 Naffis-Sahely","@id":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/#\/schema\/person\/70989a53dafd430c6582822c3100a82b"},"headline":"The Post-\u0160alamunian Period","datePublished":"2015-01-22T17:04:23+00:00","dateModified":"2015-01-22T17:17:11+00:00","mainEntityOfPage":{"@id":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2015\/01\/22\/the-post-salamunian-period\/"},"wordCount":1356,"commentCount":11,"publisher":{"@id":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/#organization"},"image":{"@id":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2015\/01\/22\/the-post-salamunian-period\/#primaryimage"},"thumbnailUrl":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2015\/01\/spier-3.jpg","keywords":["avant-garde","Central Europe","Ljubljana","poems","poetry","Slovenia","Soy Realidad","the Great Wall of China","Tomaz Salamun"],"articleSection":["In Memoriam"],"inLanguage":"en-US","potentialAction":[{"@type":"CommentAction","name":"Comment","target":["https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2015\/01\/22\/the-post-salamunian-period\/#respond"]}]},{"@type":"WebPage","@id":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2015\/01\/22\/the-post-salamunian-period\/","url":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2015\/01\/22\/the-post-salamunian-period\/","name":"Remembering Toma\u017e \u0160alamun and His Poetry","isPartOf":{"@id":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/#website"},"primaryImageOfPage":{"@id":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2015\/01\/22\/the-post-salamunian-period\/#primaryimage"},"image":{"@id":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2015\/01\/22\/the-post-salamunian-period\/#primaryimage"},"thumbnailUrl":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2015\/01\/spier-3.jpg","datePublished":"2015-01-22T17:04:23+00:00","dateModified":"2015-01-22T17:17:11+00:00","description":"\u0160alamun, who died last month, took the notion of the enfant terrible to its logical conclusion. His poems walk the tightrope between ecstasy and despair...","breadcrumb":{"@id":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2015\/01\/22\/the-post-salamunian-period\/#breadcrumb"},"inLanguage":"en-US","potentialAction":[{"@type":"ReadAction","target":["https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2015\/01\/22\/the-post-salamunian-period\/"]}]},{"@type":"ImageObject","inLanguage":"en-US","@id":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2015\/01\/22\/the-post-salamunian-period\/#primaryimage","url":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2015\/01\/spier-3.jpg","contentUrl":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2015\/01\/spier-3.jpg"},{"@type":"BreadcrumbList","@id":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2015\/01\/22\/the-post-salamunian-period\/#breadcrumb","itemListElement":[{"@type":"ListItem","position":1,"name":"Home","item":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/"},{"@type":"ListItem","position":2,"name":"The Post-\u0160alamunian Period"}]},{"@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\/70989a53dafd430c6582822c3100a82b","name":"Andr\u00e9 Naffis-Sahely","image":{"@type":"ImageObject","inLanguage":"en-US","@id":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/#\/schema\/person\/image\/","url":"https:\/\/secure.gravatar.com\/avatar\/4c2a50074086a4aa955fbbb8bdd4084592d7d7a702f39e58ba7eb96a04333e92?s=96&d=mm&r=g","contentUrl":"https:\/\/secure.gravatar.com\/avatar\/4c2a50074086a4aa955fbbb8bdd4084592d7d7a702f39e58ba7eb96a04333e92?s=96&d=mm&r=g","caption":"Andr\u00e9 Naffis-Sahely"},"url":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/author\/anaffissahely\/"}]}},"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/81921","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\/789"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=81921"}],"version-history":[{"count":6,"href":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/81921\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":81929,"href":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/81921\/revisions\/81929"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=81921"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=81921"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=81921"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}