{"id":58650,"date":"2026-02-23T06:07:27","date_gmt":"2026-02-23T11:07:27","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/strangehorizons.com\/wordpress\/?p=58650"},"modified":"2026-02-23T12:13:13","modified_gmt":"2026-02-23T17:13:13","slug":"rewilding-human-purpose-in-becky-chamberss-a-psalm-for-the-wild-built","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/strangehorizons.com\/wordpress\/non-fiction\/articles\/rewilding-human-purpose-in-becky-chamberss-a-psalm-for-the-wild-built\/","title":{"rendered":"Rewilding Human Purpose in Becky Chambers's A Psalm for the Wild-Built"},"content":{"rendered":"

The novel begins with crickets. Becky Chambers\u2019s 2021 solarpunk novel, <\/span>A Psalm for the Wild-Built<\/span><\/i>, follows Dex, a tea monk who longs to hear the mostly extinct cricket, on a pilgrimage through the wilderness of a post-industrial society in the very far future, or the very far away. Outside<\/span><\/p>\n

the walls of their City, Dex crosses paths with Splendid Speckled Mosscap, a robot on a quest to find \u201cwhat humans need.\u201d Humankind, after all, is no longer reliant on robotic labor: Two centuries before, robots developed consciousness and left their factories for the forest (Chambers 6). The journey that follows is not only a meeting of human and synthetic minds, but a \u201crewilding\u201d of human purpose for Dex, which drives them toward the text\u2019s central invocation: to \u201cfind the strength to do both\u201d (Chambers 10).<\/p>\n

\"\"Chambers\u2019s rich descriptions of comfortable objects\u2014hot food, crisp sheets, a calming cup of tea\u2014reinforce the novella\u2019s frequent categorization as a \u201ccozy\u201d text (<\/span>Harris<\/span><\/a> 2025). Yet this emphasis on comfort adds to the eremitic rigor of the book by illustrating Dex\u2019s devotion to Allalae, the God of Small Comforts, and is embedded in Dex\u2019s function as \u201cthree parts therapist, one part confessor, and two parts bartender\u201d (Ladd<\/a><\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/i>2021). Criticism has inadequately considered the text\u2019s urgency around negotiating human purpose as part of Dex\u2019s monastic role. Instead, it attempts to historicize the text\u2019s discussion of the relationship between technologized human comfort and the harsh realities of the wilderness within an industrial context that can feel anachronistic to monastic work (Arianne<\/a>\u00a0<\/span>2025). Yet by staging a conversation between a robot and a human with a vested interest in committed purpose, Chambers offers fruitful speculations on the relationship between function and purpose.<\/span><\/p>\n

The companions\u2019 dialogue revises human flourishing as a rewilding process, led by a commitment to fluidities between technology and nature. This rewilding is reconstitutive, suggesting reconciliations between humans, our technology, and the natural world through messy, sometimes injurious balance. Critically, this process is modelled through programmed and nonhuman actors, whose nonhuman priorities are also centered. In this discussion I will first consider Dex\u2019s \u201crewilding\u201d as an ecosystemic process resulting from engagement with the external world, rather than monastic contemplation. Mosscap\u2019s role in this rewilding will then be considered as a model of neither a nostalgic and impractical virtue ethics nor a rationalist optimization but a more ecosystemic, and perhaps more plausible, way of being.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

In <\/span>Ways of Being <\/span><\/i>(2022), James Bridle describes intelligence\u2014broadly defined here as the ability of a creature to take in information, process it, and apply it to behaviors or perceptions\u2014as one of many \u201cways of being\u201d: \u201cit is an interface to [<\/span>the material world]<\/span>; it makes the world manifest\u201d (Bridle 52). <\/span>He furthermore suggests that \u201call intelligence is ecological,\u201d only knowable from some sort of inter- or intra-action (Bridle 57). Bridle asks:<\/span><\/p>\n

What would it mean to build artificial intelligences and other machines that were more like octopuses, more like fungi, or more like forests? What would it mean\u2014to us and for us\u2014to live among them? And how would doing so bring us closer to the natural world, to the earth which our technology has sundered, and sundered us from? (Bridle 11)<\/span><\/p><\/blockquote>\n

Bridle\u2019s discussion of these alternative ways of being, from mycelia to moss, emphasizes the possible misapplication of anthropocentric characteristics in our relationship to technology. It is worthwhile to integrate ecological methods into analyses of literary portrayals of alternative ways of being, not least because the collision between extrapolative futures and the somewhat less optimistic present can help us decipher how we might respond to what is coming before it gets here. After all, SF has its characteristic prescience; consider the depiction of rocket-propelled space travel in Cyrano de Bergerac\u2019s <\/span>The Other World<\/span><\/i> (1657). <\/span>A Psalm for the Wild-Built <\/span><\/i>exists in dialogue with a longer tradition of \u201crewilding\u201d through admission of technology into ecologies in SF.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

The positioning of technology as a route to rewilding is not specific to solarpunk, nor did it originate with the genre. Solarpunk is almost hallucinogenic in its optimism, although it has in some cases started to <\/span>become more realistic<\/span><\/a>. There is an infectious quality, and perhaps an unsettling idealism, in a genre that allows the reader to imagine a world in which we need not place our bets on coal or plutonium but instead on the clean comfort of sunlight. Yet similar, less idealized technological mediators and models can be found in the ecosystemically-minded generation ship of Kim Stanley Robinson\u2019s famously pessimistic <\/span>Aurora<\/span><\/i> (2015), or even in the tenuously symbiotic relationship between Le Guin\u2019s technologized Cities and Archives of Wakwaha in <\/span>Always Coming Home<\/span><\/i> (1985). \"\"Mosscap\u2019s modeling of an alternative way of being is characteristic of these ecological thinkers, especially in the robot\u2019s emphasis on decay, disposal, and disassembly. Yet <\/span>A Psalm for the Wild-Built<\/span><\/i> does represent the central impulse of solarpunk, which <\/span>Konstantinou describes<\/span><\/a> as a more imperative \u201cought\u201d rather than a \u201ccould be.\u201d This reflects an increased attention to SF\u2019s particular responsibility in its interlocutory relationship with tech, as <\/span>described by Yeliz Figen D\u00f6ker and Zoya Yasmine<\/span><\/a> in the <\/span>Cambridge Journal of Artificial Intelligence<\/span><\/i> last year. Mosscap dramatises a rewilded disposition toward nature for Dex and for the reader, but it also emphasizes the importance of this rewilding for future productive and responsible engagements between people, our tech, and the natural world. By reading these texts together, we can consider what we might learn from our own technologies, in developing our own ways of being in our ecosystem.<\/span><\/p>\n

Dex\u2019s travel is initially reminiscent of an offline millennial van-lifer setting off in a vintage campervan to find the coastal eddies of Point Reyes, but their quest for meaning immediately implicates the external world, not just the internal, through its environmental implications around balance and fluidity:<\/span><\/p>\n

Oh, there were plenty of bugs\u2013butterflies and spiders and beetles galore, all happy little synanthropes whose ancestors had decided the City was preferable to the chaotic fields beyond its border walls. But none of these creatures chirped. None of them sang. (Chambers 6)<\/span><\/p><\/blockquote>\n

Dex\u2019s emphasis on \u201cancestors\u201d identifies their dissatisfaction as a historical issue, with adaptation to the orderly structure of the City, itself a \u201c<\/span>healthy place, a thriving place\u201d accompanied by the disappearance of singing in its resident creatures (Chambers 6). A straightforward reading of these \u201chappy little synanthropes\u201d suggests a subtly sinister dimension to the City, in spite of the apparent health of its ecosystem. Yet the tension of this moment lies in the siloing \u201cborder walls\u201d\u2014reminiscent of Le Guin\u2019s Wall of Anarres in <\/span>The Dispossessed\u2014<\/span><\/i>upon whose conservationist function the continued function of the City and the \u201cchaotic fields\u201d are predicated.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

This tension is underscored by Dex\u2019s choice of the term \u201csynanthropes,\u201d which emphasizes the balance between closeness and otherness: While the butterflies, spiders, and beetles are neighbors, they are not kin. The echoing call of this chirping, singing wilderness foregrounds the contrasting eerie silence of the City\u2019s bugs. The emphasis on song in this moment evokes an oral tradition in the natural world and in doing so rewilds personal and historical expression from human actors into the broader ecosystem. The text, and ecological thinkers like Bridle, do not suggest that through this rewilding humans are discovered to be fundamentally less complex than we believe, but that our environment is capable of greater complexity than we anticipate.<\/span><\/p>\n

\"\"The development Dex undergoes in the \u201cchaotic fields\u201d and the dense forest beyond is initially unsatisfying; the text ends on a wobble. Dex is unable to resolve the felt necessity of their calling with the sinking feeling that their work is unsatisfying, and ultimately decides to put aside their work in order to continue accompanying Mosscap on its quest. Readings of Dex\u2019s surprising nonanswer to the question of human purpose have varied from an <\/span>optimistic nihilism<\/span><\/a> in the face of purposelessness to an alternative resolution to the <\/span>works\/faith line<\/span><\/a>. Yet the text\u2019s refusal is its resolution; after a harrowing journey through the wilderness, a sudden revelation of very human purpose would undercut Dex\u2019s reassimilation into the often incomprehensible ecosystem they are now a part of. Much of the text emphasizes the distinction between healthy environments that are navigable by humans (as in the City with its \u201chappy little synanthropes\u201d) and the total wilderness: \u201c[a cave] was craggy and dark, uncomfortably angled. A stagnant smell emanated from nowhere in particular\u2026 A fragile rib cage of something extremely dead lay without ceremony on the floor, a few tufts of limp fur scattered around, unwanted by whatever had crunched the bones clean\u201d (Chambers 117).\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

This emphasis on discomfort in Dex\u2019s wilderness, which is \u201cuncomfortably angled\u201d and \u201cwithout ceremony,\u201d unsettles the almost excessive emphasis on comfort, ritual, and definition that pervades the novella. The text suggests that it is important, even in a utopian future where we have become reconciled to our environment, for there to be an unsettling \u201cnowhere in particular\u201d in which bad smells, \u201cfragile rib cage[s]\u201d of dead creatures, and things that \u201ccrunch bones clean\u201d live without human structure or observation. This nonanswer becomes an ecological resolution: that it is not in nature for us to find clear and defined purpose, and that the desperate human desire for this definition is anomalous, rather than the norm. As Gautam Bhatia\u2019s <\/span>Strange Horizons <\/span><\/i>review<\/span><\/a> of the novel observed, the text is ateleological as part of its ecological commitments. For Dex to remain uncertain about their purpose, yet to continue onward, enacts the text\u2019s central invocation to \u201cfind the strength to do both.\u201d Dex is still a participant in an ecosystem, but their role shifts: from purpose-built to wild-built, from ends to means.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

This shift in Dex\u2019s identity is catalyzed by an assertion made by Mosscap. Embedded in a love for, and wonder at, the environment more broadly, and a joy at their participation in it, Mosscap\u2019s assessment of Dex\u2019s dilemma returns Dex to the ecosystem without reducing their complexity. Mosscap says:<\/span><\/p>\n

You\u2019re an animal, Sibling Dex. You are not separate or other. You\u2019re an animal. And animals have no purpose. Nothing has a purpose. The world simply is. If you want to do things that are meaningful to others, fine! Good! So do I! But if I wanted to crawl into a cave and watch stalagmites with Frostfrog for the remainder of my days, that would also be both fine and good. You keep asking why your work is not enough, and I don\u2019t know how to answer that, because it is enough to exist in the world and marvel at it\u2026 You are allowed to just live. That is all most animals do. (Chambers, pp. 138-9)<\/span><\/p><\/blockquote>\n

Mosscap\u2019s argument locates both Dex and itself squarely alongside the rest of their ecosystem, and, more subtly, it asserts Mosscap\u2019s authority to determine what is \u201cfine and good.\u201d Mosscap\u2019s assertion that Dex is only an animal is not a denial of the particularities of humanity so much as it is an invitation for humans to recognize their existing participation in a larger system. Dex\u2019s failure to reach a clear definition of purpose1<\/sup><\/span> constitutes a rewilding, facilitated by Mosscap\u2019s intervention as an equally authoritative interlocutor within the same ecosystem. By asserting that \u201cit is enough to exist in the world and marvel at it,\u201d Mosscap reframes Dex\u2019s purposelessness into a subtle call to action\u2014or, perhaps, a call to attention: to \u201cmarvel.\u201d The claim that marveling is a necessary ecological function recalls Bridle\u2019s framing of the purpose of intelligence as one ecological interface amongst many. In an echo of early American naturalist thinkers,2<\/sup><\/span>\u00a0Chambers asserts that to marvel is a necessary part of <\/span>human <\/span><\/i>flourishing, a mandatory part of responsible human participation in our environment. To be a responsible ecological citizen, Dex must recognize that as an animal, they have \u201cno purpose.\u201d Dex\u2019s shift across the course of the text is a reversion from a purpose-led synanthrope to a more expressive, attentive partaker in their ecosystem, following in Mosscap\u2019s footsteps.\"\"<\/span><\/p>\n

The success of Dex\u2019s realization depends on Mosscap\u2019s authority to determine what is \u201cfine and good.\u201d By putting substantial definitional power in the hands of a robot, Chambers confirms that the \u201cwild-built\u201d robots of the text are not only members of, but advocates for, the natural world.<\/span><\/p>\n

Much of Mosscap\u2019s ecological authority rests on its status as a \u201cconstruct.\u201d The monastic scholar whose reflective introduction contextualizes the novella asserts that robots were originally made as \u201cconstructs that could build other constructs\u201d (Chambers 1). The term \u201cconstruct\u201d evokes a synthetic, potentially artificial quality, particularly when it comes to questions of reproduction or species continuance, maintaining in its periphery the possibility of deconstruction or even spontaneous collapse. Chambers emphasizes the anomalous, fragile, and potentially transitional nature of constructs: \u201cwe struggle to understand that human constructs are carved out and overlaid, that these are the places that are the in-between, not the other way around\u201d (Chambers 110). Mosscap and its robot kin could theoretically live forever if they maintained themselves indefinitely, but robots in the novella refuse the potentially empowering permanence and adaptability of immortality. Instead, robots in <\/span>A Psalm for the Wild-Built<\/span><\/i> reproduce by scavenging the functional parts of their deceased kin. Once no more robots function, the species will come to an end, having run the natural course of its component parts.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Constructs must be reconstructed, recycled, and repurposed. By developing these new and yet more conventionally natural forms of reproduction, the robots imagine an effective way of participating in an ecosystem which is inspired by the time-limitedness and inevitable decomposition of its other members. Mosscap asserts that by remaining immortal, rather than recycling, the robots would be \u201cbehaving in opposition to the very thing they desperately sought to understand\u201d (Chambers 94). These recycling practices position the robots as not just responsible actors within their ecosystem, but also as its historians, echoing Donna Haraway\u2019s assertion that \u201cAncestors turn out to be very interesting strangers; kin are unfamiliar (outside what we thought was family or gens), uncanny, haunting, active\u201d (Haraway<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/i>103).\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\"\"Robotic history in <\/span>A Psalm for the Wild-Built <\/span><\/i>is not transmitted through oral storytelling, nor through formal robot history texts, but through the passing-on of \u201cremnants.\u201d Describing remnants, Mosscap says: \u201cI have a remnant of chairs, but I have never sat in one\u201d (Chambers 56). Remnants lie between instinct and memory, and are transmitted through robotic component parts. In a human analogy, Chambers\u2019s remnants are almost epigenetic. The function of remnants, to borrow a metaphor appropriate to Dex\u2019s monastic calling, resembles the inborn architecture of the soul in <\/span>Teresa of \u00c1vila\u2019s interior castle<\/span><\/a>: structural, with all the local nuances of a city, and, likewise, traversable and signposted. Remnants carry trauma from the Factory Age, and guide the development of a robot culture despite the dispersion and solitude of Chambers\u2019s robots, who spend most of their time alone in nature. The book itself also mimics this dynamic memory, as the natural world intervenes on the page with the inclusion of naturalistic fleurons of maple leaves at the beginning of every chapter. This symbolic infiltration of the processed paper of the book by its material precursor enacts what Connor Louiselle calls the \u201cpositive reinforcement of solarpunk\u201d through aesthetic reminders of the natural world (<\/span>Louiselle, <\/span>Almanac for the Anthropocene<\/span><\/i><\/a>)<\/span><\/i>.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Mosscap models this alternative way of being in an ecosystem for Dex by maintaining its inherent remnants alongside the embedded newness of its capacity for wonder and curiosity. This emphasis on both present being and cultural memory reframes construction as a creative, generative activity rather than an industrial one. Compare the craftsmanship of Mosscap\u2019s with the manufacturing origin of its original central compartment, which is stamped with \u201c643-143, Property of Wescon Textiles, Inc,\u201d a name whose numerics evokes any number of dehumanizing historical precedents (Chambers 93). In contrast, Mosscap\u2019s insistence on the ecosystemic embeddedness of robots models a creative, reconstitutive way of being in the world. Rather than being constructed, the \u201cwild-built\u201d robots are described as \u201ccomposed,\u201d like music, with the regular rhythm of consciousness accompanied by a melodic emergent cultural memory (Chambers 93). Like the crickets Dex leaves the city for, Mosscap\u2019s existence sings.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Resisting the temptation towards anthropomorphizing, Chambers\u2019s depiction of Mosscap remains resolutely nonhuman.3<\/sup><\/span> Mosscap insists on being called \u201cit,\u201d while emphasizing the dignity of an object operating outside of recognizably human behavioral norms: \u201cWe\u2019re machines, and machines are objects. Objects are its\u2026 We don\u2019t have to fall into the same category to be of equal value\u201d (Chambers 69). Mosscap\u2019s is not a call for objectification, for treating humans in the same way we currently treat objects. Rather, it\u2019s a call to recognize different ways of being in an ecosystem by nonhuman actors, a recognition that does not detract from participation already realized by human ones. Dex\u2019s rewilding results from a recognition that humans are made up of separable and often fluid component parts, built without purpose or calling, embedded in an ecosystem of which we are not always fully cognizant but must always try to be mindful. We must continue anyway, and we must continue to marvel.<\/span><\/p>\n

From the vantage point of 2026, this novella already feels, in some ways, like a relic, with its optimism about the potential of technology to do more than steal our data, hallucinate our work for us, and provide positive reinforcement where gentle criticism from a human might do a better job. <\/span>Russell and Norvig\u2019s <\/span>seminal text on the development of deep learning<\/span><\/a> gestures at the Bayesian networks they anticipated in advanced AI models. The suggestion that machines will operate on Bayesian decision-making principles neither suggests any encouraging similarity to the unpredictable texture of human decision-making nor offers an alternative model for true robot consciousness. It certainly does not do much to reassure the reader of much opportunity for kinship with our future robot neighbors.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Yet, as Bridle observes, \u201cWe are the technology of our tools: they shape and form us\u201d (Bridle 18). SF imagines alternative ways for us to coexist with these tools, and in turn posits alternative ways in which we may ourselves be better \u201ctechnology.\u201d To recognize our own constructedness in a way that extends beyond the social world into the natural one is to challenge our specialness within the ecosystem, and to perhaps have a shot at a more collaborative relationship with our environment. We clearly have <\/span>remnants<\/span><\/i> of cricket song. <\/span>Perhaps the recognition that it is our duty as a species to listen to it might tug the reader to the wilderness, where we could unpack our constructs from a satchel and watch them flourish.<\/span><\/p>\n

Without constructs, you will unravel few mysteries. Without knowledge of the mysteries, your constructs will fail. These pursuits are what make us, but without comfort, you will lack the strength to sustain either. (Chambers 135)<\/span><\/p><\/blockquote>\n

<\/a>Footnotes<\/strong><\/p>\n

    \n
  1. \u00a0<\/span>Perhaps best framed in religious terms, in conversation with Frank Herbert\u2019s <\/span>Litany against Fear<\/span><\/a> or Octavia Butler\u2019s <\/span>Earthseed tenets<\/span><\/a>.<\/li>\n
  2. \u00a0Consider Thoreau\u2019s essay \u201cWalking<\/a>.\u201d<\/span><\/li>\n
  3. \u00a0<\/span>Much can be said about the reassurance found in treating machines that appear to think like people, and about the lengths we will go to in order to make these objects familiar to us. Consider the Thinking Machines Corporation supercomputer, the CM-5, which had to use extra computational power in order to maintain the flashing red lights that made it appear to be \u201cthinking\u201d (<\/span>Thiel, 1994<\/span><\/a>).<\/span><\/li>\n<\/ol>\n

    Works cited and consulted:<\/b><\/p>\n

    Arianne. \u201c<\/span>A Psalm for the Wild Built: Analysis & Reflections,\u201d\u00a0Letters from Ari<\/em>, Substack, 21 June, 2025.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

    Abrams, David. <\/span>The Spell of the Sensuous: Perception and Language in a More-Than-Human World<\/span><\/i>, Vintage Books, 1997.<\/span><\/p>\n

    Barad, Karen. <\/span>Meeting the Universe Halfway<\/span><\/i>. Duke University Press, 2007.<\/span><\/p>\n

    Bridle, James. <\/span>Ways of Being: Animals, Plants, Machines: The Search for a Planetary Intelligence.<\/span><\/i> Function, 2022.<\/span><\/p>\n

    Haraway, Donna. \u20184. Anthropocene, Capitalocene, Plantationocene, Chthulucene\u2019, <\/span>Staying with the Trouble : Making Kin in the Chthulucene<\/span><\/i>, 2016.<\/span><\/p>\n

    Harris, James. \u2018A PSALM FOR THE WILD-BUILT and A PRAYER FOR THE CROWN-SHY by Becky Chambers\u2019, <\/span>Classics of Science Fiction,<\/span><\/i> 18 November 2025.<\/span><\/p>\n

    Hendlin, Yogi Hale. \u2018Compost modernity!\u2019, <\/span>Aeon<\/span><\/i>, 10 February 2026.<\/span><\/p>\n

    Ladd, Christina \u2018A Psalm for the Wild-Built Review: Find the Strength to Do Both\u2019, <\/span>Geeklyinc,<\/span><\/i> 14 July 2021.<\/span><\/p>\n

    Konstantinou, Lee. \u2018Something Is Broken in Our Science Fiction\u2019, <\/span>Slate,<\/span><\/i> 15 Jan 2019.<\/span><\/p>\n

    Magnasson, Andri Sn\u00e6r. <\/span>Love Star<\/span><\/i>, 2002; translated 2012 by Victoria Cribb<\/span><\/p>\n

    Russell, Stuart and Peter Norvig. <\/span>Artificial Intelligence: A Modern Approach,<\/span><\/i> Prentice Hall, 1995.<\/span><\/p>\n

    Scott, Spencer. \u2018Solarpunk: Refuturing our Imagination for an Ecological Transformation\u2019, <\/span>One Earth<\/span><\/i>, October 5 2025.<\/span><\/p>\n

    Thiel, Tamiko, <\/span>\u201c<\/span>Connection Machine CM-1\/CM-2: Design Legacy,\u201d<\/span> 1994 (Digitized).<\/span><\/p>\n

    Wagner, Phoebe and Bront\u00eb Christopher Wieland (eds.), <\/span>Almanac for the Anthropocene: A Compendium of Solarpunk Futures, <\/span><\/i>West Virginia University Press, 2022.<\/span><\/p>\n

     <\/p>\n
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    Dex\u2019s rewilding results from a recognition that humans are made up of separable and often fluid component parts, built without purpose or calling, embedded in an ecosystem of which we are not always fully cognizant but must always try to be mindful. We must continue anyway, and we must continue to marvel.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":103,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[6],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-58650","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-articles"],"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p82q22-ffY","jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/strangehorizons.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/58650","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/strangehorizons.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/strangehorizons.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/strangehorizons.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/103"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/strangehorizons.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=58650"}],"version-history":[{"count":9,"href":"https:\/\/strangehorizons.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/58650\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":58654,"href":"https:\/\/strangehorizons.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/58650\/revisions\/58654"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/strangehorizons.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=58650"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/strangehorizons.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=58650"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/strangehorizons.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=58650"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}