{"product_id":"in-sardiniaisbn-9781685890261","title":"In Sardinia","description":"\u003cb\u003e\"Mr.  Biggers is an enthusiastic and erudite guide. Seeking out the past in  local lore and in Sardinia’s long and overlooked literary tradition, he  returns the island to the center of our imaginative map of the  Mediterranean.\"\u003ci\u003e -- The Wall Street Journal\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cb\u003e\"At  last, a grand companion to the mysterious and enchanting island of  Sardinia. Written with verve and love, \u003ci\u003eIn Sardinia\u003c\/i\u003e is the book I'll be taking on future trips.\" -Frances Mayes, New York Times bestselling author of \u003ci\u003eUnder the Tuscan Sun\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cb\u003eAward-winning historian Jeff Biggers opens a new window into the hidden treasures of Sardinia in a groundbreaking travel narrative that crisscrosses one of the most enigmatic places in Italy\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAfter three decades of living and traveling in Italy, Jeff Biggers finally crossed over to Sardinia, uncovering a treasury of stories amid major archaeological discoveries rewriting the history of the Mediterranean.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBased in the bewitching port of Alghero, guided through the island’s rich and largely untranslated literature, he embarked on a rare journey around the island to experience its famed cuisine, wine, traditional rituals and thriving cultural movements.  \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Sardinia is something else. Enchanting spaces and distances to travel,” D. H. Lawrence wrote in 1921.  On the 100th anniversary of Lawrence’s visit, Biggers opens a new window into the history of the island, chronicling how new archaeological findings have placed the island as one of the cradles of the Bronze Age. From the Neolithic array of Stonehenge-like dolmens and menhir stone formations to the thousands of Bronze Age \"nuraghe\" towers and burial tombs, the vastness of the uninterrupted cycles of civilizations and their architectural marvels have turned Sardinia into the Mediterranean's \"open museum.\" \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBeyond its fabled beaches, reconsidering how its unique history and ways have shaped Italy and Europe today, Biggers explores how travelers must first understand Sardinia and its ancient and modern history to truly understand the rest of Italy.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIn the tradition of Mark Kurlansky’s \u003ci\u003eBasque History of the World\u003c\/i\u003e, Peter Hessler’s \u003ci\u003eOracle Bones: A Journey Through in China\u003c\/i\u003e, and Frances Mayes’ and Tim Parks’ narratives on Italy, \u003ci\u003eIn Sardinia\u003c\/i\u003e is a major new addition to travel writing and literature in Italy.\"A fascinating book that reads like a novel.\"\u003cb\u003e-- Rick Steves, \"Travel with Rick Steves\" radio\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Mr. Biggers is an enthusiastic and erudite guide. Seeking out the past in local lore and in Sardinia’s long and overlooked literary tradition, he returns the island to the center of our imaginative map of the Mediterranean.\"\u003ci\u003e\u003cb\u003e -- The Wall Street Journal\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\"A fascinating read about a fascinating island, the book takes us beyond the storied beaches and adds context and texture to Sardinia's already rich cultural history.\" \u003ci\u003e\u003cb\u003e\u003cb\u003e-- \u003ci\u003eVoce Italiana\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cb\u003e\u003cb\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003ci\u003e\u003cb\u003e\"In Sardinia \u003c\/b\u003e\u003c\/i\u003eis not a travel book. That would be doing it a disservice.  It is nourishment for the soul, especially if you are the type of reader who genuinely appreciates and actively seeks out exploration through fine travel writing.\" -- \u003cb\u003eDelicious Italy \u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003e\u003cb\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e \"Biggers is also a persuasive champion of modern Sardinian culture...Much more than a travelogue, In Sardinia is compendious and evocative.\"\u003cb\u003e-- Times Literary Supplement\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\"Erudite research into the language and culture...A fascinating portrait of Sardinia.\" \u003cb\u003e--California Review of Books\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003c\/i\u003e \"A consummate storyteller, Jeff Biggers deftly weaves his modern Sardinian odyssey into the fabric \u0026amp; folklore of this enigmatic island with a light touch that carries the reader along.\"\u003cb\u003e -- Italia! Magazine\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"[A] rich, detailed chronicle...compelling guide and a new appreciation of an overlooked island...Neither holiday postcard nor dry ancient history, this is a fascinating journey around Sardinia.\" \u003cb\u003e-- \u003ci\u003eKirkus Reviews\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\"A successful and well-written blend of history, travel, art, literature, and culture.\" -- \u003cb\u003e\u003ci\u003eThe Washington Independent Review of Books\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e \u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"\u003cb\u003eIn Sardinia \u003c\/b\u003e\u003c\/i\u003eis a delightful travelogue that unearths magical stories from beneath island stones.\"\u003ci\u003e \u003cb\u003e-- Foreword Reviews\u003c\/b\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"A fine mix of geography and history that offers a vigorous riposte to the various misunderstandings heaped upon Sardinia.\" \u003ci\u003e\u003cb\u003e--Booklist \u003c\/b\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"At last, a grand companion to the mysterious and enchanting island of Sardinia. Known to most travelers for its beaches, Sardinia's complex archeological heritage extends back to Neolithic times. Jeff Biggers, the consummate traveler\/ scholar, starts in beautiful Alghero and begins exploring the entire island, delving into the rich traditions of music, arts, dialects, crafts, and literature. Along the way, he and his family revel in local lore, festivals, food, and wine. Written with verve and love, \u003ci\u003e\u003cb\u003eIn Sardinia\u003c\/b\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e is the book I'll be taking on future trips.\"\u003cb\u003e\u003ci\u003e -\u003c\/i\u003e-Frances Mayes\u003ci\u003e, \u003c\/i\u003eNew York Times bestselling author of \u003c\/b\u003e\u003ci\u003e\u003cb\u003eUnder the Tuscan Sun\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003c\/i\u003e \"\u003ci\u003e\u003cb\u003eIn Sardinia\u003c\/b\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e passionately recounts Biggers' discovery of a place long considered out of time and history. With an agile writing style but one that reveals the extensive research behind the text, \u003ci\u003e\u003cb\u003eIn Sardinia \u003c\/b\u003e\u003c\/i\u003etakes the reader on a discovery of an island-as-a-continent, its rich historical heritage as well as its increasingly vibrant contemporary cultural life.\" \u003cb\u003e\u003ci\u003e--\u003c\/i\u003eMaria Bonaria Urban, author of \u003ci\u003eSardinia on Screen\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"A deeply satisfying dive into the Sardinian soul, but at the same  time  the writing is so spare and essential - almost as if Biggers   somehow reflects the silences and spaces of the island as well.  Every  page taught me something new about Sardinia's literature, legends,   landscape, icons and customs. A moving book which traces the contours   of the terrain and hears its ancient voices. A magnificent achievement.\" --\u003cb\u003eTobias Jones\u003c\/b\u003e, \u003cb\u003eauthor of \u003ci\u003eThe Po: An Elegy for Italy's Longest River\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"...a compelling and poetic account of an exciting cultural renaissance on the island.\" \u003cb\u003e--Ludovica Amici, \u003c\/b\u003e\u003ci\u003eVille e Casali (Town and Country Magazine)\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Biggers' work stands out meritoriously...the author has resurrected the great travel narrative. The second novelty, which also expresses the cultural depth of the author, is that the book avoids the narration of easy exoticisms in the description of the island.\" \u003cb\u003e--Adriano Bomboi, \u003ci\u003eSa Natzione\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003e\"In Sardinia\u003c\/i\u003e is an indispensable and necessary international  guide. To discover a Sardinia still little known outside the national  borders and to reveal its multiform riches and diversity. It is no  coincidence that this opens with the Ogliastra artist Maria Lai and  closes with the poet of Desulo, Montanaru, just as it is no coincidence  that, in this almost intimate text, the many \"Sardignias\" are  represented through a kaleidoscopic variety of languages and cultures,  landscapes and knowledge, sounds, tastes and encounters.\u003cb\u003e \u003ci\u003eIn Sardinia\u003c\/i\u003e \u003c\/b\u003eis an unmissable journey that starts from an inner story to be shared  with the vast world. A journey capable of filling that profound void,  which makes that stone thrown into the Mediterranean a teeming patch of  land yet to be revealed.\" -- \u003cb\u003ePaolo Fresu\u003c\/b\u003e, \u003cb\u003elegendary Italian jazz musician  and composer\u003c\/b\u003eJeff Biggers is an American Book Award-winning historian, journalist and playwright. Based part-time in Italy since 1989, he is the recipient of the David Brower Award for Environmental Reporting, the Foreword Magazine Book of the Year for Travel Writing, a Lowell Thomas Award for Travel Journalism, and other honors. Author of ten books of cultural history and investigative reporting, his work has appeared in the \u003ci\u003eNew York Times, The Atlantic Monthl\u003c\/i\u003ey, \u003ci\u003eSalon.com, \u003c\/i\u003eand on National Public Radio and Public Radio International. For more information, visit: www.jeffbiggers.com\u003cb\u003eSardinia Blues\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e In 1979, renowned Sardinian artist Maria Lai was summoned by the mayor of her mountain village of Ulassai. She was residing in Rome. They had raised funds to commission a war memorial. Having lived away from Sardinia for decades, conflicted with her village over the murder of her brother, Lai turned down the town councilors. “I was convinced I would never return there,” she wrote. Lai suggested a monument “to the living by the living,” as part of a celebration of a resurgent Sardinian culture. If you want to make history, she declared, you must create history.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e The villagers agreed. Lai’s sculpture and textile work drew on Sardinian traditions of weaving and storytelling; in secondary school, she had been a student of author Salvatore Cambosu, whose poems and stories had taught her how to “follow the rhythm.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e On a fall day in 1981, Lai led the entire village in wrapping Ulassai with sixteen miles of blue ribbons, lacing the doors of houses and balconies of apartments, church spires and shops, winding up the warrens until they reached Mount Gedili, a craggy ridge that overlooked the valley. Some neighbors tied a knot of friendship among themselves; others left it straight. But all were connected. The blue ribbon recalled a folktale of a young girl who had survived a mountain landslide by following the trace of the ribbon. \u003ci\u003eLegarsi alla montagna\u003c\/i\u003e—Binding oneself to the mountain—turned into an internationally recognized avant-garde work of performance art that sought to heal divisions in the village and reconnect the residents to their rugged natural habitat.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “A town far from the fashionable cultural circuit was able to give the world a fresh insight into what art can be,” Lai mused.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e It also brought Lai back to the island.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Lai’s neighbor in Rome was acclaimed Sardinian novelist Giuseppe Dessí, whose work Lai would embroider into canvas in her exhibition of “sewn books,” her art functioning as a way to connect the island to the world. For Dessí, Sardinia was a state of mind, a “land of permanence, and not of travel.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Travelers and islanders alike, Sardinian author Marcello Serra once declared, shared a longing to return to the island—a kind of “sortilege” that runs in your veins with a “sweet and bitter languor.” In 1956, Serra named it in his travel guide as \u003ci\u003emal di Sardegna\u003c\/i\u003e—the Sardinia blues—as real for native islanders as those who visit. It wasn’t simply nostalgia; it was more like an unyielding yearning to return.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e When you leave “the island of the Sardinians, with dense memories of fabulous encounters, of landscapes timeless and ancient,” Serra wrote, “then the heart, overseas brother, will weigh you down like a ripe fruit.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Not every visitor, of course, feels this longing. Cicero, the ancient Roman statesman, once displayed his oratory skills: “Sardinia was a bad island, everything in the island was ugly and even its abundant honey was bitter.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Yet, it was that special honey, \u003ci\u003emiele amaro\u003c\/i\u003e or \u003ci\u003emiele di corbezzolo\u003c\/i\u003e, bitter honey from the strawberry tree, that gave Sardinia its special flavor, according to Cambosu and other writers, for those wishing to see the reality of the island.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cb\u003eThree Maps and a Photo\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e The work of Lai and Cambosu, among so many other writers and artists, returns to me now as I look at three maps of Sardinia on the wall of my office, as if some boat awaits me outside.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e One map, titled “Mediterranean Without Borders,” by French cartographer Sabine Réthoré, turns our view ninety degrees to the right, the “west” facing up—imagine North Africa to the left and Europe into Turkey to the right with equal stature, the Levant stretching to Egypt at the bottom, and the Rock of Gibraltar at top. Our perspective shifts, the Mediterranean Sea unfolding almost like a lake, the shores mirroring each other along these ancient corridors dotted by islands and waterways. It’s a busy thoroughfare. The Mediterranean is “probably the most vigorous place of interaction,” as eminent historian David Abulafia observed, “between different societies on the face of this planet.” \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e There in the upper reaches, the island of Sardinia sits in the middle, a focal point of entry and inspection. Instead of being on the periphery of empires or a nebulous island west of the Italian mainland, Sardinia is central to the Mediterranean story, and a nexus for navigators heading in any direction. The idea of isolation, as one medieval historian would note, no longer appears “tenable.”\u003cbr\u003e The second map is of Sardinia itself, the main island with its many islets. It is not a floating green mountain with a defining valley that splices along the south by southwest, as a topographical map would show. Instead, this map is as colorful as a neon strip of nightlife you might download on a cell phone for the latest cultural events. In fact, devised as a geoportal and online app by a volunteer organization called Nurnet in 2013, the map pinpoints the thousands of Neolithic and Bronze Age monuments across the islands with the fanfare of an open museum. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e As part of Nurnet’s mission to “promote a different image of Sardinia in the world,” the map is nothing less than astounding. If you actually illuminated all of these ancient monuments, from the Neolithic array of Stonehenge-like dolmens and menhir stone formations to the thousands of burial tombs, Bronze Age towers and complexes called \u003ci\u003enuraghes\u003c\/i\u003e or \u003ci\u003enuraghi\u003c\/i\u003e, the entire island would light up like a prehistoric hotspot. The vastness of the uninterrupted cycles of civilizations and their architectural marvels still standing today would be incomparable with any place in Europe on that first Mediterranean map.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e The Sardinians call it the “endless museum.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e The third is a wine map of Sardinia, at least the official “DOC” (designation of controlled origins) varieties that make it into the official registers. The unmarked bottles of wine in the secret cellars of connoisseurs, Cannonau or Vernaccia or Vermentino or Semidano, have their own registry for the fortunate, but this map displays the five provinces on the island that don’t vary too much from the original kingdoms or \u003ci\u003ejudicadus \u003c\/i\u003ethat ruled in the Middle Ages with a degree of independence. The names have changed or been consolidated; the wine remains the same, in the north of Sassari, the west of Oristano, the central Barbagia mountains and east of Nuoro, the south of the Sulcis and Campidano valley. The fifth province is the capital city of Cagliari.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Wine, of course, makes any journey a delight—or an adventure. Plutarch invoked Gaius Gracchus’s words that the Romans drank wine in Sardinia and returned with their amphoras filled with gold and silver. In Sardinia, wines are also a portal into the island’s cultures, like the popular berry-tone Cannonau, with its high level of flavonoids and artery-scrubbing antioxidants, make it the drink in the holy grail of the Blue Zones’ research on the island’s phenomenon as the home of the most centenarians in the world. This was an old story; in 1639, Sardinian historian Francisco Angelo de Vico noted the extraordinary number of islanders that lived until one hundred years, or more. In fact, evidence of the oldest wine-making press and cultivation of domestic grapes in western Europe was discovered in recent excavations at Nuragic sites, dating back to 1,500 b.c.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Aside these maps, I also have a framed photo of a young boy in shorts and a beret, probably from the 1890s, sitting with his legs dangling off the thick walls on the medieval bastion in the northern port of Alghero, Sardinia, reading a book. Fishing boats line the shores below, dwarfed by the mainmasts of three ships, the sails folded, the walls of the city’s fortress in the background.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e There on the bastion walls of Alghero, I imagine the young boy reading a travel story, for some reason; in the photo he’s watched over by two other kids who don’t seem to know what to make of the scene. I see the wonder of this boy turning the page on the story of the first European crossing of the Mississippi River in North America by Spanish conquistador Hernando de Soto in 1541, where it took a bad turn. In the end, it was thanks to a Sardinian boat maker who fashioned caulk from hemp to rebuild a new vessel to descend the great river in 1543, that the crew survived to tell Europe the story of this other world. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e I have sat on those same walls in the morning, gazing out at the sea and the spellbinding cliffs of Capo Caccia in the distance, over many years. In 2017, my wife Carla and I packed up our two young boys (twelve and fifteen, actually) and moved to Alghero, as part of a university sabbatical from our work and lives in the United States. We had no plans other than to rest and explore the island and its fabled beaches, travel the winding back roads into its mountains and villages, and sample the varieties of food and wine; we were still dealing with the last details of a particularly grueling year of assignments, deadlines, and demands. Having raised our children as Italians and Americans, our main goal was to give them another chance to experience a school system in Italian, and an opportunity to live in a different part of Italy.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e But something almost unexplainable happened in Sardinia. The island had its own plans, as if a traveler couldn’t simply pass through its confines with a little sand in one’s shoes. We arrived as Sardinia was on the cusp of “re-storying” its history in a ruckus debate, undergirded by an extraordinary range of poets, writers, musicians, artists, historians, and everyday storytellers. The formal recognition of some huge archaeological discoveries in the last half century was forcing scholars from around the world to reconsider a certain narrative about Sardinia and rewrite the history of the Mediterranean.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Picking up D. H. Lawrence’s \u003ci\u003eSea and Sardinia \u003c\/i\u003eone day\u003ci\u003e, \u003c\/i\u003ethe defining book on the island in English over the past century, I opened the first pages to this passage: “Sardinia\u003ci\u003e, \u003c\/i\u003ewhich has no history, no date, no race, no offering.” Lawrence’s legendary provocateur role aside, that seemed like an incredibly outdated notion. The rest of the book, based on his six-day tour, seemed equally antiquated. One hundred years after its publication in 1921, \u003ci\u003eSea and Sardinia\u003c\/i\u003e still remained on the bookshelves as the main window in English into one of the most beguiling and complex regions in Italy.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e While Sardinian authors, like Giuseppe Cossu in 1799, had been lamenting the oversight of the island’s history and “unfaithful geographic maps” for centuries, there still seemed to be a lingering narrative of historical ambivalence, as if the island had been an empty stage until the arrival of Phoenicians and Romans; as if Sardinians had no ancient civilization or role in their own destiny—or, more importantly, as if they had no role in shaping Italy and the worlds beyond their island. I couldn’t help but wonder if we were missing the most vital parts of the island and its history; that perhaps we needed to understand Sardinia, if we were to truly understand the rest of Italy.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e In fact, it might be more accurate to speak of “le Sardegne,” as in plural, instead of “la Sardegna,” a singular entity, with a singular culture or set of ways. The “fundamental misunderstanding” in the Mediterranean, as historian Abulafia wrote in \u003ci\u003eThe Great Sea\u003c\/i\u003e, was the illusive search for some sense of unity and clarity in such a place. Instead, he suggested, “we should note diversity,” among the shores in a “constant state of flux.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e When we arrived in Sardinia, festivals of all types abounded across the island—food, folk, dance, music, literature, theatre, sports, and archaeology. The range of political parties joyfully clashed, with the independence party now aligned with the right-wing parties on the Italian mainland. (We heard a frequent refrain in every town: Emilio Lussu, the great Sardinian patriot of the twentieth century, would be turning in his grave.) The traditional processions and events continued to grow, including those that had marked Sardinia’s unique cultures for centuries, such as the extreme S’Ardia horse race in Sedilo, recalling a battle under the Byzantine Emperor Constantine or the elaborate Sant’Efisio procession that re-walks a forty-mile journey from Cagliari to Nora, celebrating the end of the plague in 1656.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Along the shores, plains, and mountains in Sardinia, that fine line between unity and diversity had been an old rub on the island, we would find out. In an interview with \u003ci\u003eRolling Stone\u003c\/i\u003e magazine, legendary jazzman Paolo Fresu, the son of a shepherd who grew up in the village of Berchidda, referred to an old adage of Sardinia’s factions and feuds: \u003ci\u003ecentu concas, centu berritas\u003c\/i\u003e, a hundred heads, a hundred caps. But Sardinia was an island, he added. “Despite the sea, it is mainly one of land, and that forges us together.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Sardinian singer Claudia Aru, from the southern town of Villacidro, who sang like a mix tape of Bessie Smith, Lila Downs, and Maria Carta, added her own version of that theme during the pandemic, releasing a single entitled “Centu Concas\u003ci\u003e,\u003c\/i\u003e”\u003ci\u003e \u003c\/i\u003eas\u003ci\u003e \u003c\/i\u003ea hymn to multiculturalism. She was joined by iconic Sardinian singer and comic entertainer Benito Urgu. She called her song “a critical reading of a certain Sardinian identity that is too dusty,” because “Sardità\u003ci\u003e,\u003c\/i\u003e”\u003ci\u003e \u003c\/i\u003ethe identity or state of being Sardinian\u003ci\u003e,\u003c\/i\u003e was not a given concept, or acquired with birth, “but is rather a choice of life, a fruit of behavior. Sardinia is, for me, an act of love.”","brand":"Melville House","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":46303883133157,"sku":"NP9781685890261","price":27.99,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":false}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/1842\/7735\/files\/9781685890261_4606ab14-dca9-4560-adf4-78b77301494b.jpg?v=1730755673","url":"https:\/\/k12savings.com\/products\/in-sardiniaisbn-9781685890261","provider":"K12savings","version":"1.0","type":"link"}