{"id":346,"date":"2012-10-02T19:56:42","date_gmt":"2012-10-02T19:56:42","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/blogs.uakron.edu\/ovsc\/?page_id=346"},"modified":"2013-06-07T18:34:32","modified_gmt":"2013-06-07T18:34:32","slug":"oliviers-hamlet-a-creature-swimming","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/blogs.uakron.edu\/ovsc\/issues\/volume-iii-2009\/oliviers-hamlet-a-creature-swimming\/","title":{"rendered":"Olivier\u2019s Hamlet: A Creature Swimming"},"content":{"rendered":"

Rachel Zlatkin, University of Cincinnati<\/em><\/p>\n

\n

Olivier observed that his 1948 film production of Hamlet <\/i>is Hamlet\u2019s point of view, and that if Hamlet is not in a scene, then it is Hamlet\u2019s imagination. He makes a \u201cstudy\u201d of Hamlet, as he came to say in defense of his choices to cut Rosencrantz, Guildenstern, and Fortinbras. The scope of the play becomes a character study that places all other characters in question, situated as they are in what Olivier interprets as Hamlet\u2019s point of view. His film is simply not the play, and yet much of the criticism is based on the expectation that it is.<\/p>\n

In part Olivier\u2019s choice to thus focus the film production is due to his insistence on the Oedipus Complex as a means to understanding Hamlet\u2019s character and his relations with Ophelia, Gertrude, the ghost, and Claudius. Olivier was admittedly convinced by the theory since before the theater production at the Old Vic in 1937, more than 10 years before the making of the film. While the play was in pre-production, Olivier, Tyrone Guthrie, and Peggy Ashcroft visited Ernest Jones, the foremost Freudian in the U.S. at the time, to discuss his analysis of Hamlet (On Acting <\/i>77-78). The discussion reviewed Hamlet\u2019s \u201cinner involvement with his mother\u201d and \u201cexcessive devotion to his father.\u201d Olivier argued afterward that \u201cNobody\u2019s that fond of his father unless he feels guilty about his mother, however subconscious the guilt may be\u201d (78). Olivier went so far as to say, \u201cHamlet\u2019s worship of his father is manufactured, assumed; he needs it to cover up his subconscious guilt.\u201d Jones\u2019s proposition was, to Olivier\u2019s view, an \u201cairtight case\u201d and provided the \u201cabsolute resolution of all the problems concerning Hamlet\u201d (Burton 19).<\/p>\n

However, Olivier is no Method actor. In a 1966 interview with Kenneth Tynan, Olivier offered his thoughts on the Method and hinted at what inspired the growth of his own. He remained unconvinced of Strasberg\u2019s argument that interiority provides the means to motivation, to truth in action, even as the number of students at the Actor\u2019s Studio grew in New York sometime later. [In] Olivier\u2019s view, the Method proved most insufficient when applied to a Shakespearean tragic character \u201cbecause you\u2019ve got so many facets, so many angles, and so many considerations to contend with\u201d (Burton 24). In contrast, Olivier describes his own method [this way]: \u201cwith one or two extraneous externals, I begin to build up a character, a characterization. I\u2019m afraid I do mostly work from the outside in. I usually collect a lot of details, a lot of characteristics, and find a creature swimming somewhere in the middle <\/i>of them\u201d (23 emph added<\/i>). It\u2019s from this quote that I get my title, \u201cOlivier\u2019s Hamlet, a Creature Swimming.\u201d Notably, it\u2019s a title one might assume refers to the psychic, especially with regards to Hamlet\u2019s relationship with his mother \u2013 the womb, the water, the swimming \u2013 but Olivier\u2019s creature swimming is also imaginatively built from his idiosyncratic collection of externals. He creates a thing in the middle<\/i>, held in the maternal and drawn from the outside. Why describe his process in such a way?<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Olivier shared two stories with Tynan about his beginnings in theater that prove relevant to his concept of the craft and his approach. The theatrical and the religious, for young Olivier, were intricately interwoven. When Olivier mentioned to his father, a high-Anglican clergyman, that he would follow his brother to India to work on a rubber plantation, his father looked down at him and stated: \u201c\u2018You\u2019re talking nonsense, you\u2019re going to be an actor\u2019\u201d (Burton12). The number of actors who have experienced this kind of naming from the great Victorian Symbolic, a clergyman nonetheless, are few. Thus was Olivier set on his course to the stage, a course fostered by his high-Anglican upbringing, along with his social circles. By the time Olivier was writing his second memoir, On Acting<\/i>, he insisted on recording the material, rather than sit alone and write. Especially in such an introverted activity, Olivier\u2019s process required its social elements.<\/p>\n

In the second story told to Tynan, Olivier reflected on his role as a \u201cboat boy\u201d during services and his ambition to be a thurifer, the person who swings the incense boat during a mass (12). On the one hand, the ritual, costume, and camaraderie enacted in this symbolic activity inspired his love for theatricality and ceremony. On the other hand, these same people gave him his first role as Katherine in Taming of the Shrew<\/i>, a role he performed, significantly, at Stratford upon Avon. Through his clergyman father to his church ceremonials, Olivier was guided toward the stage, in contrast to the altar. His attention even later in his life to such familial and religious experience indicates how it supported and fostered his inclinations toward the dramatic and ceremonial life he developed in the theater. Later as a more experienced actor, Olivier calmly asserted that if he had ever failed as an actor, only the military would have quenched his thirst for costume, ritual, and camaraderie, something he referred to as \u201cthe band of players.\u201d<\/p>\n

With this history in mind, I turn to Olivier\u2019s1948 film production of Hamlet. What kind of Hamlet is Olivier\u2019s Hamlet, Freudian influences set aside? What else does Olivier\u2019s Hamlet <\/i>bring to the table? What happens when a theater actor, an actor steeped in the sensory, in the physicality of expression, in embodied symbol systems, an actor who insisted on an exercise regimen so that he might \u201ckeep his instrument healthy\u201d and leap from a platform onto King Claudius, an actor whose imagination kept alive the image of the burly silent film actors \u2013 their broad shoulders, the long gesture of the swashbuckling hero playing alongside the broad swinging of the incense boat \u2013 what else does that actor bring to Hamlet? And Hamlet<\/i>? I ask not how Olivier\u2019s film suits the Oedipus complex, but how his interpretation and portrayal signify outside of it, in a pre-Oedipal phase.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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I don\u2019t mean to diminish the importance of the Oedipus Complex to Olivier\u2019s production in this contextualization, but I am consequently requiring a different psychoanalytic lens than that included in Ernest Jones\u2019s Hamlet and Oedipus<\/i>, a book finally published in 1949 but including work from as far back as 1923. Jones\u2019s project with Hamlet was a long and accepted one. However, my analysis is guided by an appreciation of object-relations theory, most especially D.W. Winnicott\u2019s work. Winnicott has an interest in the space between external and internal realms that complements Olivier\u2019s own assertion that he creates a \u201ccreature in the middle.\u201d Most important to my thesis is D.W. Winnicott\u2019s note that the child\u2019s transition from \u201cme\u201d-objects (the breast and I are one) to \u201cnot-me\u201d objects (my mother is a person of her own and not-me) is facilitated during a \u201cholding\u201d phase in which the child\u2019s sense of external space transitions from matching the internal realm to a recognizable external realm different from but always connected to the child. Objects become \u201cusable\u201d only after they have been destroyed and survive that destruction, for only then can the child recognize the object as \u201cother\u201d than him- or herself. Winnicott refers to such objects as \u201ctransitional objects\u201d and a child\u2019s play with them as \u201ctransitional phenomenon.\u201d Mature religious, cultural, and social experience rely on such \u201cobject-usage\u201d and become possible through transitional phenomena, so it is of special interest to me that Olivier continued to refer to his childhood ties to the high church as an avenue to his career in theater, a more social cultural art form.<\/p>\n

What does Winnicott\u2019s work mean for what critic Bernice Kliman called a \u201cfilm infused play\u201d? (qtd. Rothwell 57). Contemplating the film with Winnicott\u2019s theory in mind highlights aspects generally overlooked when emphasis is placed on the influence of Ernest Jones and the Oedipus Complex. One might go so far as to say that Olivier \u201cdestroys\u201d the play (cutting Fortinbras would be one common complaint), and finds a \u201ccreature swimming\u201d other than himself. After all, Olivier makes a deliberate effort to recreate Hamlet\u2019s \u201cimagination\u201d as the subject of his film, not his own. This effort of Olivier to recreate Hamlet\u2019s imagination and psyche cannot be overlooked. If we take Olivier at his word, then he does not intend his film production of Hamlet <\/i>as the play, but rather as a creative engagement with a space neither here nor there, but in between.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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Frankly, the film is better at object-relations theory than it is the Freudian Oedipus Complex, perhaps because the object-relations interpretation is not conscious or deliberate, whereas the Freudian obviously is. The castle pillars, windows, arches, long halls and stairwells, and the lack of a ceiling create a theatrical space perfectly aligned with Hamlet\u2019s psychology, a psychology Olivier confessed he found more complex than any other of Shakespeare\u2019s tragic characters. Yet the graphic depiction of Gertrude\u2019s bed draped by the vulvic curtains so literalize the deeply psychic that it\u2019s difficult to take the complex seriously, because it is so obviously not repressed in the set architecture. Likewise, the lengthy kisses between Hamlet and Gertrude (played by Eileen Herlie, 11 years Olivier\u2019s junior) reveal a lack of appreciation for the function of the repressed and the disguised fashion of its return. By design, the characters are more universal than personal: Olivier dies his hair blond so as to portray the \u201carchetype Dane,\u201d and Claudius and Gertrude\u2019s costumes are of the King and Queen of \u201cuniversal playing cards\u201d (On Acting <\/i>286). Olivier\u2019s symbol system is anything but repressed, and if his childhood is taken seriously as an influence that should come as no surprise.<\/p>\n

In contrast, when Olivier\u2019s decision to insulate the film in Hamlet\u2019s imagination is given due attention and object-relations theory is considered as implicit in his approach, the castle space becomes just as much a vital character as Hamlet himself. The castle, too, is iconic. It depicts Hamlet\u2019s psychology as an iconic template for the movement of every character walking the set; in so doing, every character becomes a subject of Hamlet\u2019s perception, fear, and intuition. The other characters are not actually \u201cother\u201d anymore than Hamlet. From the opening credits, William Walton\u2019s musical score crashes with the turbulent sea surrounding the castle cliffs, the jagged rocks rising from the depths. Hamlet peruses these waves from a raised circular platform, and the camera shot blends a close up of his face and\/or the back of his head with the churning waters below. Overtly, the camera angle links the waves to Hamlet\u2019s tumultuous mind, but such a depiction also reveals concern with the mother-child dyad and the collapsibility of the boundaries between self and other.<\/p>\n

If the ocean is viewed psychoanalytically (whether according to Freudian or object-relations theory), then it represents the mother womb. What is of interest to me is the apparent confusion over the identity of the mother versus that of her son. When Hamlet\u2019s face and head blend with the waves below, Olivier presents a mind consumed with the womb, a mind for whom the waters deep are the self, no boundary between self and (m)other. This is not a person able to move beyond his own omniscience, as the very castle design asserts. Winnicott would note Hamlet\u2019s desperate need for a third space where he might recognize difference. Ironically, there are moments in the play when Hamlet longs to destroy his mother. Should Gertrude be destroyed and survive such destruction, Hamlet would meet his first \u201cnot-me\u201d object. He would recognize her difference from him, and grow into a self capable of mature interaction with others and his environment. Unfortunately, the ghost (Hamlet\u2019s own guilt complex, to this view) pulls him back from his hate, and he is never able to reconcile it.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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Olivier\u2019s use of black and white film, the deep shot, and the traveling camera also emphasize the psychic aspects of the castle space by permitting a clear focus on spatially distant characters, as if played in an imagination and not in a film. The floating tableaus have a similar effect; Ophelia\u2019s review of Hamlet\u2019s visit to her closet floats in the film, for example. She pauses over her embroidery and looks up, as the imagined scene plays to her voice over. Once Hamlet leaves her closet and the imagined visit is complete, she looks down and continues sewing with no concern for the content of her vision, no signs of disturbance. The moment simply drops from her consciousness, as if someone else placed it there, watched and heard her remember, and then, in a turn, finished with her. Olivier removes Ophelia from Shakespeare\u2019s script and from the dialogue she shares with her father in 2.1. Instead, he uses her description of Hamlet\u2019s visit to create a scene supposedly \u201cwithout Hamlet\u201d who is not present in Ophelia\u2019s closet while she embroiders. In so doing, Olivier redeploys the closet scene as an imaginary moment that plays as Hamlet\u2019s \u2013 Hamlet imagining Ophelia imagining him. Once she is finished remembering him, she is of no importance. Ophelia is only as significant as she is Hamlet. Frighteningly, Hamlet\u2019s imagination claims so much of the film in this tableau that it is easy not to see how present Hamlet\u2019s imagination is in Olivier\u2019s design. The lack of boundary between self and other finally affect how one is able to view the film. The audience, too, becomes a subject of Hamlet\u2019s imagination. The clear focus of distant objects and Hamlet\u2019s absent presence create a different set of challenges for a critical viewing of the film than if one relies purely on Olivier\u2019s more obvious use of Ernest Jones\u2019s work on the Oedipus Complex.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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For my purposes, such use of Hamlet\u2019s imaginary space appeals to the character\u2019s need for transitional objects, objects that exist in both realms of experience, ground him in each, and provide him the means to actualization and separation from the castle space. Olivier\u2019s production allows for this separation through only one avenue, notably, the players, who are not of the castle. The energy changes with the players\u2019 entrance because they bring their objects with them. Like the players themselves, these objects are not of the castle, and thus Olivier\u2019s Hamlet has a better chance of recognizing them as \u201cnot-me.\u201d In fact, these objects provide Hamlet the means to externalize what, up to \u201cthe Mousetrap,\u201d remains internalized. These props are notably iconic in nature: musical instruments, the masks Tragedy and Comedy. They represent performance, but they are also usable. Thanks to the nature of theater, the actors have the luxury of knowing about their objects what Hamlet does not know of his own: the costumes, the props, the Queen\u2019s wig, are \u201cnot-me\u201d objects. The props function differently than the castle space that tends to push all significance back onto Olivier\u2019s Hamlet. For a refreshing change, Hamlet is able to joke and playfully tug the Queen\u2019s wig over the boy actor\u2019s head during his scene with the \u201cband of players.\u201d<\/p>\n

Winnicott\u2019s view of space is, thus, especially interesting with regard to Olivier\u2019s film because there are very few objects, indeed. Whether the castle is taken as a representation of psychic or physical space, its lack of objects is a problem for the hero. There is no map, no chart by which to move, no bridge to the social, no thing to trust. If he\u2019s a creature swimming, he\u2019s close to drowning. The players provide, for the moment, not just access to the \u201cconscience of the King\u201d (3.1.585), but the means of physical and social engagement. Olivier\u2019s Hamlet leaps to the stage for his famous pirouette, as if the stage itself provides him the space he needs to feel alive and apart from the castle. The moment captures the character\u2019s excitement over discovering a means to engage with the external realm.<\/p>\n

Olivier\u2019s film production points to a problem he himself designs, and that\u2019s that every castle object hearkens back to Hamlet, from his chair to the book\/s he carries. The father is permitted entrance via two forms, the misty ghost and the boisterous player, but only one motivates him to act \u2013 and that\u2019s the actor dressed as the King. If anything, the ghost keeps Hamlet entrenched [within] his own imagination. Hamlet, wrapped in the ghostly mist, remains material but wears the ghost about him like an airy cloak, reaches toward it as if to fade out himself. In fact, Olivier experiments with the ghost\u2019s very existence, having it disappear when Hamlet closes his eyes, and reappear when he opens them. In contrast, the player materializes Hamlet\u2019s \u201cprophetic soul\u201d and places it in a social relation with his family, friends, and the courtly public.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Olivier does not appear to be aware of the psychoanalytic work of D.W. Winnicott, although Ernest Jones certainly was, trusting his own daughter to his care in 1937 (Kahr 72). While Olivier made no study of Winnicott\u2019s theories, in the film\u2019s best creative moments, he \u201cuses\u201d Shakespeare\u2019s Hamlet <\/i>according to Winnicott\u2019s precepts. His words and his film reveal sensitivity to Winnicott\u2019s concerns with play, transitional phenomenon, and third, or intermediate, space, especially as they pertain to acting and theatrical space. When asked about the experience of being on stage, Olivier recalls \u201cthe warmth\u201d and paints a touching portrait, rich in the sensory details of theatrical experience:<\/p>\n

People who have never experienced that walk between one wing and another will probably wonder what I mean by warmth. It gets into the nostrils and into the hair; it is a combination of electric light, glue, rancid paint and scent. It is like a favorite Teddy bear, or stepping from an airplane into the warm sun. Once experienced it stays forever, calling the actor back again and again, like a siren\u2019s song. \u2026 Memory is one thing, but action is for the immediate man. I still feel immediate. (On Acting <\/i>84-85).<\/p>\n

Olivier\u2019s description is <\/i>immediate. It captures the vitality of physical sensation, the warmth \u201cthat gets into the nostrils and into the hair,\u201d messy and tangible. At the same time, it points to an intangible experience that \u201cstays forever\u201d and repeatedly calls one back, not so unlike his Hamlet returning to peruse the waves. He compares the theater to a Teddy bear, an important transitional object, ultimately connecting the child to the mother even as it proves her difference. Winnicott would not stop with the mother implicit in Olivier\u2019s poetic description. The Teddy bear, like \u201cplaying and cultural experience, links the past, the present, and the future; they take up time and space\u201d (Winnicott 109). The smells Olivier is pointing out, the glue, the rancid paint, the scent, are more than just odors, but are the means to a magical interweaving of external \/ theatrical and internal \/ imaginary spaces; they \u201ctake up time and space.\u201d They unify experience. Upon this intermediary plane, the stage floor, Olivier maintains a third space for safe play. The 1948 film reproduces such a plane with the players\u2019 entrance. Olivier\u2019s vitality arguably increases along with Hamlet\u2019s at their appearance. The players bring the stuff, the musical instruments, the flags and props, the costumes. More importantly, the actors bring Olivier\u2019s Hamlet out of his melancholy, provide him with his first means to act after the ghost\u2019s misty news and his felt rejection after Ophelia\u2019s long shot at the end of 1.3.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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Olivier had ended a run at the Old Vic as Oedipus under the direction of Michel St. Denis in 1946, just before the making of his film, and the role perhaps serves as one more source of detail that Olivier sorts through on his way to developing Hamlet. Thus, he plays Oedipus on stage, he plays Hamlet on stage, he brings both to the film. Between his performance of Oedipus and his reading on the complex, between his collecting of externals and his interest in the internals of the psychic, Olivier finds his Hamlet swimming. This method, by the end, results in a film that is described by some critics as neither theatrical nor cinematic, but something in between, some \u201chybrid form.\u201d In the words of the critic Bernice Kliman, \u201cnot a filmed play, not precisely a film, but a film- infused play\u201d (qtd. in Rothwell 57).\u00a0 Olivier\u2019s Hamlet is Olivier\u2019s collection and Olivier\u2019s imagination. His insistence on a theatrical film indicates a real effort to bring this intermediary space into the 1948 production.<\/p>\n

The Teddy-bear is not the only object of transition in Olivier\u2019s poetic description of stage experience. The moments he includes depict moments of transition themselves. He is in the act of stepping from the plane and into the sun. He begins by walking between two wings. The experience he describes matches what Winnicott has proposed, that the boundary between inside and outside is not only porous, but that there is an intermediary space where both contribute, [where] play, be it a child\u2019s or a professional player\u2019s, requires acceptance of a paradox: the third space is one in which both internal and external realms are simultaneously merged and separate.<\/p>\n

Winnicott, too, uses Hamlet <\/i>in a section of his 1971 Playing and Reality<\/i>, a book that clarifies much of his work. In a chapter titled \u201cCreativity and its Origins,\u201d Winnicott imagines an alternative performance of Hamlet\u2019s 3.1 soliloquy, focusing specifically on its famous first linei: \u201cHe [Hamlet] would say, as if trying to get to the bottom of something that cannot be fathomed, \u2018To be,\u2026 or \u2026\u2019 and then he would pause, because in fact the character Hamlet does not know the alternative. At last he would come in with the rather banal alternative: \u2018\u2026 or not to be\u2019; and then he would be well away on a journey that can lead nowhere\u201d (83). Ultimately, Winnicott longs for a Hamlet capable of the line: \u201cTo be or to do? That is the question.\u201d It is a line Olivier\u2019s Hamlet thankfully never delivers, but it is a line the film plays at <\/i>to rather stunning consequences.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

To pursue the imaginary scope of such play would be a fitting experiment and tribute to Olivier, his Hamlet and their players: If the players had never left the set of Olivier\u2019s film, if the musicians continued to dangle over the arches playing the musical score, tangible, visible, and usable, perhaps then Olivier\u2019s two realms, the castle set and the character\u2019s psyche, would have been more easily differentiated. If the actors clowned, mimicked, gestured, perhaps the audience, at least, would have more easily seen that Hamlet <\/i>was not Hamlet, despite all of Olivier\u2019s brave and insulating excisions. The actors\u2019 presence might, also, have underlined Hamlet\u2019s need to see the play with which he shares a name, if only to see himself as an object, and as different from the film\u2019s material. What I\u2019m asking of Olivier is distinctly not Shakespeare\u2019s project, but if Olivier\u2019s own sense of the intermediary, if his \u201cband of players\u201d had risen into the production, haunted it as much as the Oedipal ghost, perhaps then Olivier\u2019s Hamlet would have felt enough immediacy, not in his similitude to the castle, but in his difference from it. Perhaps then Olivier might have destroyed Hamlet <\/i>and discovered a Hamlet living.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

 <\/p>\n

\n

\u00a0Notes<\/p>\n

i In an argument parallel to my own, Adam Phillips analyzes Winnicott\u2019s \u201cobject-use\u201d of the 3.1 soliloquy as opposed to Ernest Jones\u2019s work in Hamlet and Oedipus<\/i>. See: Phillips, Adam. \u201cWinnicott\u2019s Hamlet.\u201d Promises, Promises: Essays on Psychoanalysis and Literature<\/i>. NY: Basic Books, 2001. 72-91. Print.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

 <\/p>\n

Works Cited<\/p>\n

Kahr, Brett. D.W.Winnicott: a Biographical Portrait<\/i>. London: H. Karnac (Books) Ltd., 1996.\u00a0 Print.<\/p>\n

Olivier, Laurence, perf. Hamlet<\/i>. Dir. Laurence Olivier. 1948. Two Cities Film Ltd. The Criterion Collection,\u00a0 2006. DVD.<\/p>\n

Olivier, Laurence. Interview. \u201cLaurence Olivier with Kenneth Tynan.\u201d Great Acting<\/i>. Ed. Hal Burton. New York: Hill and Wang, 1967. 11-48.\u00a0 Print.<\/p>\n

Olivier, Laurence. On Acting<\/i>. New York: Simon and Schuster, 1986. Print.<\/p>\n

Rothwell, Kenneth S. \u201cLawrence Olivier Directs Shakespeare.\u201d A History of Shakespeare on Screen: A Century of Film and Television. <\/i>Cambridge UP, 1999. 49-71. Print. Shakespeare, William. The Tragedy of Hamlet, Prince of Denmark<\/i>. Ed. Susanne L. Wofford. Boston: Bedford\/St. Martin\u2019s, 1994. Print.<\/p>\n

Winnicott, D.W. Playing and Reality<\/i>. 1971. New York: Brunner-Routledge, 2002. Print.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Rachel Zlatkin, University of Cincinnati Olivier observed that his 1948 film production of Hamlet is Hamlet\u2019s point of view, and that if Hamlet is not in a scene, then it is Hamlet\u2019s imagination. He makes a \u201cstudy\u201d of Hamlet, as he came to say in defense of his choices to cut Rosencrantz, Guildenstern, and Fortinbras. […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1384,"featured_media":0,"parent":68,"menu_order":9,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","template":"full-width-page.php","meta":{"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-346","page","type-page","status-publish","hentry"],"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogs.uakron.edu\/ovsc\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/346","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogs.uakron.edu\/ovsc\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogs.uakron.edu\/ovsc\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.uakron.edu\/ovsc\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1384"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.uakron.edu\/ovsc\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=346"}],"version-history":[{"count":4,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.uakron.edu\/ovsc\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/346\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1038,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.uakron.edu\/ovsc\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/346\/revisions\/1038"}],"up":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.uakron.edu\/ovsc\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/68"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogs.uakron.edu\/ovsc\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=346"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}