{"id":47313,"date":"2026-09-19T17:45:49","date_gmt":"2026-09-19T23:45:49","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/latinamericanliteraturetoday.org\/2026\/09\/tales-of-love-madness-and-death-translated-by-diego-jourdan-pereira\/"},"modified":"2026-09-19T23:14:45","modified_gmt":"2026-09-20T05:14:45","slug":"tales-of-love-madness-and-death-translated-by-diego-jourdan-pereira","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/latinamericanliteraturetoday.org\/es\/2026\/09\/tales-of-love-madness-and-death-translated-by-diego-jourdan-pereira\/","title":{"rendered":"Tales of Love, Madness and Death, translated by Diego Jourdan Pereira"},"content":{"rendered":"

An extraordinary writer whose work has long been woefully neglected in English translation, Quiroga\u2019s tales\u2014and the life of the writer behind them\u2014are a fever dream of morbidity and horror. Frequently compared to the works of Edgar Allan Poe, this avant-garde collection is staggeringly modern in its content, and is suffused with the themes and settings of his later works.<\/span><\/i><\/p>\n

Quiroga\u2019s first published short-story collection, <\/span><\/i>Tales of Love, Madness and Death<\/span> is presented here in a brand-new translation, and also includes his lauded tongue-in-cheek \u201cTen Commandments for Short-Story Writers,\u201d readying some of the great writer\u2019s finest work for a new generation of readers.<\/span><\/i><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

BARBED WIRE<\/b><\/p>\n

(El alambre de p\u00faa)<\/span><\/i><\/p>\n

For a fortnight, the sorrel horse had searched in vain for the path through which his partner was escaping the paddock. The formidable hedge\u2014consisting of inextricably interwoven bushes\u2014didn\u2019t even allow enough room for the horse\u2019s head to get through. Evidently, this was not where the chestnut was getting through.<\/span><\/p>\n

Then he walked around the farm, trotting uneasily with his ears on high alert. From the depths of the woods, the chestnut responded to his partner\u2019s vibrant neighing\u2014his calls short and brief, no doubt the fraternal promise of abundant fodder. It was most irritating for the sorrel to see the chestnut reappearing two or three times a day to drink. When he came back he promised not to abandon his companion an instant, and truly, for a few hours they fed in admirable harmony. But suddenly, the chestnut would plunge into the bushes with its rope in tow, and when the sorrel realised he had been left alone and set off in pursuit he found the hedge to be impregnable. That said, from within\u2014very close, even\u2014the wicked chestnut responded to his desperate neighing with a satisfied neigh of his own.<\/span><\/p>\n

But that morning, the old sorrel found the opening easily. Crossing in front of the brick wall which protruded fifty metres into the field from the woods, he saw a faint diagonal pathway leading into the forest. There was the chestnut, munching leaves straight from the trees.<\/span><\/p>\n

It had all been very straightforward. Crossing the brick wall one day, the chestnut had found a gap in the hedge caused by an uprooted bush. He repeated his journey until he knew perfectly well how to reach the entrance to the tunnel. Then he used the old path he and the sorrel had carved along the edge of the woods. And herein lay the sorrel\u2019s difficulty, as the entrance to the path joined their pathway so diagonally that\u2014used as he was to walking it south to north but never north to south\u2014it took him a while to find the opening.<\/span><\/p>\n

He joined his partner in an instant, and together, with no other concern than clumsily munching the young palm trees, the two horses decided to get further away from the field they already knew so well.<\/span><\/p>\n

The woods, quite thinned out, allowed for easy passage, even for horses. In truth all that was left of the forest was a two-hundred-metre-wide expanse. Behind it, a two-year-old clearing adorned itself with wild tobacco. The old sorrel\u2014who had spent six months of his youth prancing around such pastures\u2014led the way, and in half an hour the tobacco plants were stripped of leaves, as far up as a horse\u2019s neck could reach.<\/span><\/p>\n

Walking, eating, perusing, the sorrel and the chestnut crossed the clearing, until a barbed wire fence stopped them.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2018Barbed wire,\u2019 said the sorrel.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2018Barbed wire indeed,\u2019 said the chestnut.<\/span><\/p>\n

And both looked over the top, watching attentively. From there they could see a tall grazing pasture, white with frost, a banana plantation and a new plantation. None of this was very tempting, no doubt about it; but even so the horses followed the fence to the right.<\/span><\/p>\n

Two minutes later they found a gap\u2014a tree, ravaged by fire, had fallen over the wires. Traversing the whiteness of frozen grass, which muffled their steps, and around the reddish, frost-scorched banana plantation, they discovered what these new plants were up close.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2018It\u2019s mat\u00e9,\u2019<\/span>1<\/span> stated the chestnut, his lips trembling half a centimetre away from the leathery leaves.<\/span><\/p>\n

Disappointment couldn\u2019t have been greater; but the horses, although greedy, aspired above all to roam free. So they continued on their way, cutting diagonally through the mat\u00e9 field, until a new wire fence brought them to a standstill. Going around it with sombre and patient ease, they reached a gate\u2014which stood open, to their joy\u2014and the visitors suddenly found themselves in the middle of a main road.<\/span><\/p>\n

Well, now, to the horses what they had just accomplished seemed quite the feat. From the boring paddock to this present freedom lay an endless distance. Yet, infinite as it was, the horses wanted to extend it even further. So, after lazily surveying their surroundings, they cleaned the dust from each other\u2019s necks, and in meek happiness they continued on their adventure.<\/span><\/p>\n

In truth, the weather motivated their happiness. The morning haze in Misiones had just fully dissipated, and under the newly clear skies the landscape glittered with magnificent clarity. From the hill the horses now stood on, the red dirt road cut the prairie before them with admirable precision, descending into the white valley of frozen wire grass and climbing back up a faraway hill. The wind\u2014very cold\u2014crystallised the golden morning even more sharply, and the horses, feeling the still, nearly horizontal sun, squinted at the glorious splendour.<\/span><\/p>\n

They continued like this\u2014alone and drunk with freedom\u2014down the dazzlingly bright road until, rounding the corner of the hilltop road, they saw an unusually green expanse stretching away from the path. Grass? No doubt\u2014and yet it was the middle of winter\u2026<\/span><\/p>\n

With their nostrils dilated with gluttony, the horses approached the barbed-wire fence. Yes, fine grass, admirably so! And they, free horses that they were, would go in!<\/span><\/p>\n

It must be said that the sorrel and the chestnut, since early that morning, had held themselves in high regard. No gate, no wire fence, no woods nor clearing was an obstacle to them. They had seen extraordinary things, surpassed unbelievable odds, and they felt contented, proud and empowered to make the most outlandish decision they could devise.<\/span><\/p>\n

In this heightened state, they saw a number of cows standing on the side of the road a hundred metres away, and trotting over there, they arrived at the gate, blocked by five robust logs. The cows stood still, staring at the unreachable green paradise.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2018Why don\u2019t you come in?\u2019 the sorrel asked the cows.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2018Because it isn\u2019t allowed,\u2019 they answered.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2018We can go anywhere,\u2019 the sorrel boastfully asserted. \u2018Since last month we\u2019ve been finding our way wherever we want.\u2019<\/span><\/p>\n

Their glistening adventure had made the horses lose track of time.<\/span><\/p>\n

The cows wouldn\u2019t even look at the intruders.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2018Horses cannot,\u2019 said one cheeky heifer. \u2018They claim they can, but never make it through. We do.\u2019<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2018They are roped,\u2019 added an old mother, without turning her head.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2018Well, I am not roped!\u2019 exclaimed the sorrel quickly. \u2018I used to live in clearings, and have been through many.\u2019<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2018Yes, after us! We go through and you cannot.\u2019<\/span><\/p>\n

The cheeky heifer intervened again. \u2018Master said the other day, \u201cA single wire will keep horses away.\u201d What then? Can you go through?\u2019<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2018No, no we can\u2019t,\u2019 replied the chestnut simply, convinced by evidence.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2018But we do!\u2019 maintained the cows.<\/span><\/p>\n

To the honest chestnut, however, it suddenly occurred that the cows\u2014daring and cunning, unrepentant violators of farms and the Code of Good Agricultural Practice\u2014wouldn\u2019t pass the gate either.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2018It\u2019s an evil fence,\u2019 objected the old mother. \u2018But <\/span>he<\/span><\/i> can! He can dislodge the gate logs with his horns.\u2019<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2018Who?\u2019 asked the sorrel.<\/span><\/p>\n

All the cows turned their heads to him, astonished.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2018Midge,<\/span>2<\/span> the bull! He\u2019s stronger than any wicked wires.\u2019<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2018Wire fences…? Really?\u2019<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2018Everything! Barbed wire, too. We go in after him.\u2019<\/span><\/p>\n

The two horses, reduced to the peaceful condition of animals a single wire can contain, felt naively dazzled by that hero who was capable of facing barbed wire, the most terrifying obstacle their desire to go through could happen across.<\/span><\/p>\n

Suddenly, the cows moved away tamely. The bull arrived at a slow pace, and before his flat, obstinate brow, which directly pointed towards the gate, the horses humbly accepted their inferiority.<\/span><\/p>\n

The cows moved apart as Midge, passing his head under the lock, tried sliding it aside.<\/span><\/p>\n

The horses raised their ears in awe, but the bolt would not budge. The bull tried removing the logs, one after another, but to no avail. The farmer, happy owner of the oat plantation, had fastened them securely using wedges the previous evening.<\/span><\/p>\n

The bull ceased his efforts. Turning lazily around, he sniffed into the distance, half-closing his eyes, then grazed the barbed wire with his ribs, uttering muffled hissing grunts.<\/span><\/p>\n

From the gate, the horses and cows stared. The bull came to a halt and passed his horns under the barbed wire, stretching it upwards violently with his head, and the huge beast slid under it, arching his back. Four more steps set him among the oats, and then the cows also headed over, trying to pass under the fence themselves. But cows evidently lack the male disposition which tolerates bloody scratches on the hide, and as soon as they slid their neck under, they swiftly withdrew, with a dizzying nod.<\/span><\/p>\n

The horses kept looking on.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2018They can\u2019t go through,\u2019 observed the chestnut.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2018The bull could,\u2019 replied the sorrel. \u2018He\u2019s bingeing.\u2019<\/span><\/p>\n

As the horses set off and followed the fence as they were so used to doing, a lowing, clear and bellowing, reached them. In the oat field, the bull was bellowing at the farmer and feigning lunges at him, as the farmer tried to hit him with a stick.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2018Ah! I\u2019ll give you prancing!\u2019 yelled the man.<\/span><\/p>\n

Midge, always dancing and bellowing at the man, dodged his blows.<\/span><\/p>\n

And so they feinted for fifty metres, until the farmer managed to force the beast against the wire fence. But the bull, with the muscular determination his brute strength allowed, sunk his head below the wire and passed through, under a sharp violin of wires and barbs thrown twenty metres away.<\/span><\/p>\n

The horses saw how the man rushed to his home, and came out again with a pale face. They saw him jump the fence and walk straight in their direction. Faced with such a determined step, the companions retreated along the road towards the ranch. As the horses walked meekly a few steps ahead of the man, they were able to arrive together at the farm belonging to the bull\u2019s owner, listening in on their conversation.<\/span><\/p>\n

It was evident, as far as the horses could ascertain, that the farmer had suffered a great deal at the hands of the rancher\u2019s bull. Plantations\u2014no matter how deep into the woods\u2014and barbed wire\u2014no matter how great their tension, or how numerous the threads\u2014were all overwhelmed by the marauding bull. They also inferred that the neighbours were fed up with both beast and owner too, due to the incessant destruction. But since the country folk rarely brought animal-related complaints before the Justice of the Peace, no matter how destructive, the bull continued to gorge himself everywhere but on the farm of his owner, who, on the other hand, seemed quite amused by this fact.<\/span><\/p>\n

In this way, the horses saw and heard the following exchange between the irate farmer and the negligent Pole.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2018This is the last time, Don Zaninski, that I come to see you about your bull! He trampled all my oats! I can stand it no more!\u2019<\/span><\/p>\n

The Polish rancher, tall and blue-eyed, spoke with an extraordinary mellow falsetto.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2018Ah, bad bull! Not my responsibility! I tie it, but it escapes! Cows are to blame! The bull follows them!\u2019<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2018As you well know, I don\u2019t own any cows!\u2019<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2018No, no! Ram\u00edrez\u2019s cows! Make my bull crazy!\u2019<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2018And the worst thing is that it loosens all the wires \u2013 you know this too!\u2019<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2018Yes, yes, wires… Ah, I don\u2019t know!\u2019<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2018Well, look, Don Zaninski, I don\u2019t want any trouble with my neighbours, but for the last time, try and have a care for your bull so it doesn\u2019t get through the fence at the back. I\u2019m going to build a new one along the road.\u2019<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2018Bull uses the road! Not back!\u2019<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2018Well, now it won\u2019t cross the fence.\u2019<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2018Bull will get through! Never mind barbs! Gets through anything!<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2018It won\u2019t.\u2019<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2018What are you installing?\u2019<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2018Barbed wire\u2014but it won\u2019t get through.\u2019<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2018It doesn\u2019t do anything, barbs!\u2019<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2018Well, do your best to keep it out, because if not he will hurt himself.\u2019<\/span><\/p>\n

The farmer left. As before, the wicked rancher\u2014laughing once again at the animal\u2019s grace\u2014pitied his neighbour for even attempting to build an impregnable wire fence against his bull. Sure enough, he rubbed his hands.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2018He won\u2019t be able to complain this time around if the bull eats all of his oats!\u2019<\/span><\/p>\n

The horses rejoined the road that took them away from their farm again, and after a while they reached the place where Midge had accomplished his feat. The beast stood motionless in the middle of the road, staring with solemn emptiness at the horizon for a quarter of an hour or so. Behind him, the cows were dozing in the blazing sun, chewing the cud. But when the poor horses passed by, they opened their eyes in contempt.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2018It\u2019s the horses. They wanted to get through the wire, and now they are roped.\u2019<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2018Midge did get through!\u2019<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2018A single wire will keep horses at bay.\u2019<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2018They are skinny.\u2019<\/span><\/p>\n

The latter seemed to upset the sorrel to his core, who turned his head.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2018We are not skinny\u2014you are. Anyway, this isn\u2019t going to happen again,\u2019 he added, pointing to the fallen wires, Midge\u2019s work.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2018Midge always gets through! Then we do. You don\u2019t.\u2019<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2018It won\u2019t happen any more. The farmer said so.\u2019<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2018He will eat that man\u2019s oats. We will follow.\u2019<\/span><\/p>\n

Due to their better treatment by us, horses are noticeably fonder of man than cows are. So it stands to reason, then, that the sorrel and the chestnut had faith in the new wire fence the farmer was going to install. The partners went on their way and, moments later, before an open field, they lowered their heads to eat, forgetting about the cows.<\/span><\/p>\n

Later, when the sun had just set, the two horses felt a craving for corn, and turned back. On the side of the road they saw the farmer changing all the fence posts, and a blond man on horseback by his side, watching him labour.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2018I\u2019m telling you it will still happen,\u2019 said the rider.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2018He won\u2019t try it twice,\u2019 replied the farmer.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2018You will see! It\u2019s all a game for that damned Polish bull! It will get through!\u2019<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2018Not twice,\u2019 the other repeated stubbornly.<\/span><\/p>\n

The horses continued on their way, still hearing the odd broken phrase.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2018…last laugh!\u2019<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2018…we shall see.\u2019<\/span><\/p>\n

Two minutes later, the blond man trotted past them in the English style. The chestnut and the sorrel, a little surprised by the unfamiliar step, watched the hurried man vanish into the valley.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2018Would you look at that!\u2019 observed the chestnut after a while. \u2018The horse is trotting and the man is galloping!\u2019<\/span><\/p>\n

On they went, reaching the top of the hill, as they had that morning. Against the pale, cold sky, the meek, downcast silhouettes stood out in black, the chestnut in front, the sorrel trotting behind. The atmosphere, bleached in daytime in excessive sunlight, acquired during twilight an almost funereal transparency. The wind had ceased completely, and with the calm of the evening, when the mercury began to fall, the frozen valley\u2019s dampness expanded, and condensed into a trailing mist in the shadowy depths of the slopes. From the cooled ground, winter\u2019s burnt grass stench blew back, and as the road skirted the hills the atmosphere suddenly became colder and damper, and excessively heavy with the heavy perfume of orange blossom.<\/span><\/p>\n

The horses walked through the gate of their farm, since the boy, who was banging their corn feeder, heard their panting. The old sorrel had the honour of being credited with the initiative of their little adventure, and was whipped with a rope as a consequence.<\/span><\/p>\n

But the next morning, quite late, on account of a dense fog, the partners repeated their escape, crossing the wild tobacco field again, imprinting their hooves into the frozen grass with mute steps and crossing the still-open gate.<\/span><\/p>\n

The sun already high in the sky, the morning reverberated with light, and the excessive heat promised a change in weather conditions. After crossing the hills, the horses suddenly saw the cows standing on the road, and the memory of the previous afternoon roused their ears and their trot\u2014they wanted to see what the new wire fence looked like!<\/span><\/p>\n

But when they arrived their disappointment was great. Stretched across the new dark and crooked posts there were two simple barbed wires. They were thick, perhaps, but only two in number.<\/span><\/p>\n

Despite their stoic audacity, a life lived on the farm had given the horses some experience of enclosures. They gave it a closer look\u2014especially the posts.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2018They are made of fine wood,\u2019 observed the chestnut.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2018Yes, burnt edges.\u2019<\/span><\/p>\n

And after another long examination, he confirmed: \u2018The wire goes through the middle \u2013 there are no staples.\u2019<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2018They are pretty close to one another.\u2019<\/span><\/p>\n

Close indeed, at three metres. But these two modest wires, replacing the five strands of the previous fence, were a let-down for the horses. How was it possible that the man could think such a fence suitable only for calves would stop a fearsome bull?<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2018The man said he wouldn\u2019t pass,\u2019 dared the chestnut nonetheless. Being his master\u2019s favourite, he ate more corn, which made him feel smarter.<\/span><\/p>\n

But the cows had overheard him.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2018It\u2019s the horses. Both roped. No dice. Midge already went through.\u2019<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2018He did? Through here?\u2019 asked the disheartened chestnut.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2018Out the back. He will get through here too. He ate the oats.\u2019<\/span><\/p>\n

Meanwhile, the loquacious heifer tried passing her horns through the wires; and a sharp vibration, followed by a sharp blow on the horns, left the horses in suspense.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2018The wires are really tense,\u2019 said the sorrel after a long examination.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2018Indeed. Couldn\u2019t be more tightly stretched…\u2019<\/span><\/p>\n

And both of them, without taking their eyes off the wires, thought confusedly about how they could pass between them.<\/span><\/p>\n

Meanwhile, the cows cheered one another on.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2018He got through yesterday. Went through the barbed wire. We will follow.\u2019<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2018You didn\u2019t follow yesterday, and you won\u2019t do so today,\u2019 they heard the sorrel say.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2018Here\u2019s the barbs, and Midge shall pass! Here he comes!\u2019<\/span><\/p>\n

Skirting the inside of the fence, by the hedges, still two hundred metres away, the bull advanced towards the oat field. The cows all stood facing the fence, attentively watching the invading beast. The horses, motionless, raised their ears.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2018Come and eat all the oats! Then we can go through the fence!\u2019<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2018The wires are very tense…\u2019 observed the chestnut still, wondering what would happen if\u2026<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2018He ate the oats! The farmer\u2019s coming! The farmer\u2019s coming!\u2019 bellowed the cheeky heifer.<\/span><\/p>\n

Indeed, the man had left his house, and was advancing towards the bull. He had a stick in his hand, but he didn\u2019t seem angry; rather he looked very serious and sported a sombre frown.<\/span><\/p>\n

The beast waited for the man to reach him, and then started his bellowing and goring pretence. The man took a step further, and the bull began his retreat\u2014still bellowing and laying waste to the oats with savage prancing\u2014until, ten metres from the road, he turned on his haunches with a last bellow of mocking defiance and launched himself over the fence.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2018Here comes Midge! He shall get through! Get through the barbed wire!\u2019 the cows managed to cheer.<\/span><\/p>\n

With the momentum of his heavy trot, the enormous bull lowered his head and connected his horns between the two wires. There was a high-pitched groan along the wires, a strident crackle shot from post to post, and the bull crossed through.<\/span><\/p>\n

But from his loin to belly, deeply sliced from forerib to flank, rivers of blood rained down. The beast, frozen in stupor, was left stunned and shaking. He walked away, soaking the grass in his blood, before collapsing with a rough grunt twenty metres away.<\/span><\/p>\n

At noon, the rancher went looking for his bull, and cried an opera before the unmoved farmer. The animal had managed to stand up and walk a little, but the rancher, understanding it would be costly to cure him\u2014if that was even possible\u2014butchered him that very afternoon.<\/span><\/p>\n

The next morning, as luck would have it, the chestnut found himself carrying home two kilograms of dead bull meat in his stomach.<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Translated by Diego Jourdan Pereira<\/span><\/h5>\n

 <\/p>\n

1<\/span> mat\u00e9<\/span><\/i>: A shrub used to make a bitter tea, high in caffeine.<\/span><\/h6>\n
2<\/span> Midge<\/span><\/i>: In the original the bull is called Barig\u00fc\u00ed, from the indigenous Guaran\u00ed language, referring to the biting insect.<\/span><\/h6>\n

 <\/p>\n

Tales of Love, Madness and Death<\/i><\/b> is available now from Renard Press.<\/b><\/a>
\nBuy books by the authors and translators featured in this issue on our Bookshop page!<\/b><\/a><\/h5>\n

 <\/p>\n

Photo: Uruguayan writer Horacio Quiroga.<\/span><\/h6>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

An extraordinary writer whose work has long been woefully neglected in English translation, Quiroga\u2019s tales\u2014and the life of the writer behind them\u2014are a fever dream of morbidity and horror. Frequently compared to the works of Edgar Allan Poe, this avant-garde collection is staggeringly modern in its content, and is suffused with the themes and settings […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":5,"featured_media":47312,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[2893],"tags":[5829],"genre":[],"pretext":[],"section":[],"translator":[5759],"lal_author":[4033],"class_list":["post-47313","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-adelantos-de-traduccion-y-novedades-editoriales","tag-numero-39","translator-diego-jourdan-pereira","lal_author-horacio-quiroga-es"],"acf":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/latinamericanliteraturetoday.org\/es\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/47313","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/latinamericanliteraturetoday.org\/es\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/latinamericanliteraturetoday.org\/es\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/latinamericanliteraturetoday.org\/es\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/5"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/latinamericanliteraturetoday.org\/es\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=47313"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/latinamericanliteraturetoday.org\/es\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/47313\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":47314,"href":"https:\/\/latinamericanliteraturetoday.org\/es\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/47313\/revisions\/47314"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/latinamericanliteraturetoday.org\/es\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/47312"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/latinamericanliteraturetoday.org\/es\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=47313"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/latinamericanliteraturetoday.org\/es\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=47313"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/latinamericanliteraturetoday.org\/es\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=47313"},{"taxonomy":"genre","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/latinamericanliteraturetoday.org\/es\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/genre?post=47313"},{"taxonomy":"pretext","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/latinamericanliteraturetoday.org\/es\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pretext?post=47313"},{"taxonomy":"section","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/latinamericanliteraturetoday.org\/es\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/section?post=47313"},{"taxonomy":"translator","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/latinamericanliteraturetoday.org\/es\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/translator?post=47313"},{"taxonomy":"lal_author","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/latinamericanliteraturetoday.org\/es\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/lal_author?post=47313"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}