Light from the flower
Cowley (and Denham)
Cowley
The position now for two centuries assigned to Milton was during his lifetime held by Abraham Cowley (NOTE 1). This poet, whose popularity, extraordinarily high and extraordinarily brief, was not quite so unreasonable as his loss of it, was a Londoner born ten years after Milton, in 1618. He went to Westminster, and thence to Cambridge. He certainly wrote verse, and good verse, very early, for some of it was published when he was fifteen; but whether his reading and emulation of Spenser really enabled him to produce some of these poems at ten years old must be left to the reader. He had but just taken his Master's degree in 1643 when Cambridge fell into the power of the Parliamentarians and he was ejected, went to Oxford, where he stayed for two years, and then going with Henrietta Maria to Paris, became her secretary. After some ten years' stay abroad, in 1656 he returned to England, and was arrested, but received his liberty on condition of some indefinite compliances which are vaguely and differently related. He returned to France till the Restoration, and was then, like many other Royalists, disappointed in hopes which Charles II. was perhaps not too careful to satisfy, but which he certainly could not in all cases have satisfied if he would. Nor was it very long before a beneficial lease of the Queen's lands gave him competence, if not affluence. He retired, however, in some dudgeon to Chertsey, and died there—not finding the country quite the poet's paradise—in July 1667. 
Cowley's remarkable prose may be for the present put aside. In his verse he is not merely a most curious bridge of communication between the couplet poets, the "school of good-sense," and the metaphysicals, but almost more than Waller, and much more than Denham, the pair who usually go with him, a bridge between one whole period of poetry and another. He wrote in youth a play called The Guardian, which he did not then intend for the stage, but after the Restoration altered and acted as Cutter of Coleman Street. But this requires no special notice. His purely poetical works, which are by no means so easily to be distinguished by mere chronological order as might be thought likely, fall pretty easily into three classes when judged from the point of view of form—namely, couplet verse, lyrics and stanza poems of various kinds, and Pindarics.
His couplets
Of the couplet verse the most important piece in size, as indeed it is of the whole, is the curious sacred epic of the Davideis, much of which was written at Cambridge, though it was continued (it never was completed) later. Four books exist; but even this manageable length, assisted by Cowley's immense popularity, never made it generally read. There are unquestionably fine things in it—from the opening picture of Hell, earlier by much than that of Milton, through the sketch of the Priests' College, a favourite theme with the author, and worked out by him also in prose, to David's account of Saul and of Jonathan. And the passages of length are as a rule inferior to the single lines and couplets, which are sometimes wonderfully fine. But the miscarriage of the piece as a whole may be accounted for many times over. It is true, as Johnson urges, that the story, being merely begun, has no time to justify itself, that its amplification of familiar Scripture is felt as impertinent, and that the decorations exhibit the fatal fault of the "metaphysicals" almost in the worst degree. But there is more than this. The very accomplishment of the couplets now and then jars with the phraseology and imagery, as would not have been the case in stanza or blank verse; and, little story as the poet gives himself room to tell, he interferes with the interest even of what little there is by constant divagation. The book is a museum of poetic fragments tastelessly cemented together, not an organic whole.
In his other couplet pieces, from quite early things to the translations intercalated in the Essays, Cowley shows much better, or at any rate is much more accessible, as a pioneer in the path. The piece upon the "Happy Birth of the Duke of Gloucester" in 1640, though sometimes "enjambed," shows on the whole a great preference for, and a pretty complete command of, the authentic, balanced, self-contained couplet with the cracker of rhyme at the tail of it. We only want weight to give us Dryden, and polish to give us Pope: the form is there already.
The lyrics
In his stanza-poems and lyrics proper Cowley shows the retrospective side of his poetic Janus-head, though it is observable that even in Constantia and Philetus, one of the earliest of the Juvenilia, the concluding couplets of the sizain "snap" as they would not have done in Daniel or in Drayton. The lyrics are often quite Jonsonian, while sometimes they have a lightness which Ben rarely achieved, and which is cheifly proper to his "sons," of whom Cowley was born just too late to be one. The famous Chronicle, his best-known thing, is the very best of poetic froth; while the Anacreontics are often equal to Ben, and sometimes not very far below Milton. One is frequently inclined to give Cowley a really high place, when something—his shallowness or his frigid wit, or a certain "shadow before" of eighteenth-century prose—interferes, especially in his once adored Mistress.
The Pindarics
Undoubtedly, however, Cowley's Pindarics are the most peculiar efforts of his talent, and those which, upon his own time, produced most of the effect of genius. They are little read now, and there can be no doubt thet both their structure and the presumed necessity of imitating Pindar's style of obscure conciet encouraged the metaphysical manner very treacherously. But they would be interesting to us even were they far worse than they are intrinsically, because to the historian of literature nothing can ever be uninteresting which has, for a long time, supplied an obvious literary demand on the part of readers and provided employment for great writers. To Cowley we owe—in that sense of obligation which always presupposes remembrance, that the debt would have been due to another if this man had not been in case to lend—the really magnificent odes of Dryden, Gray, and Collins pretty directly: indirectly that strill greater one of Wordsworth which is almost his solitary claim to have reached the highest summits of poetry; and many great things of Shelley and Tennyson, not to mention lesser men. And the eager adoption of the form, which for more than half a century prduced libraries full of unreadable Pindarics (the most interesting and nearly the most hopeless examples being those of no less a man than Swift), whows us what the time wanted, how it was sick of the regular stanza, how blank verse was still a little too bold for it, while it had not yet settled down or become satisfied with the regular tick of the couplet-clock. But as a matter of fact the things themselves are not contemptible. "Life and Fame," "Life," the "Ode to Mr. Hobbes," and others are, or at least contain, very fine things; and the chief drawback of the whole is that descent to colloquial abbreviations ("I'm" etc.) which was due partly to the slow vulgarising of popular taste on such points which we shall have to record, partly to the still prevailing dread of slur and trisyllabic equivalence. On the whole, no doubt, Rochester was right when he said ("profanely," as Dryden very properly adds) that "Cowley was not of God, and so he could not stand." But the special reason of his fall was that he never could make up his mind whether to stand with the old age or with the new, with the couplet or with the wilder verse, with mystical fantasy or clear common sense, with lawless splendour or jejune decency.
Cowley's Prose
(...) Until 1660 it cannot be seriously maintained that England possessed, or even had possessed, a prose style suited for those misceellaneous and average purposes which, after all, prose is chiefly meant to subserve. (...) But we have examples of Dryden's prose at a time when it is next to impossible that he could have been influenced by Tillotson; the change is evident in the work of Cowley and other earlier still; and on the whole it is far safer and far more philosophical to take it as, like other literary evolutions or revolutions, a "flying spirit on the driven air," generally diffused and felt by many if not by all, rather than as a deliberately caused product of this or that person's idiosyncrasy, or study, or simple desire of innovation.
Cowley has just been mentioned, and his case is a notable one. His small handful of extremely pleasant Essays displays many of the characteristics of the new prose, but it is most noteworthy that they seem to date from the close of his life and after the Restoration. In his most brilliant piece, the Discourse concerning Oliver Cromwell (1661), old and new jostle each other in a fashion almost startling, and the colour, form and fire of the sinister angel who defends the Protector contrast with the almost eighteenth-cnetury correctness of some passages. As in verse, Cowley is the Janus of the time, but his forward face is that which is here most noticeable.
Denham
One splendid passage—which, by the way, did not appear in the first edition of the poem, Cooper's Hill, that contains it—has preserved to Sir John Denham (NOTE 1) a little of the very disproportionate reputation which he earned during his life, thanks chiefly to his younger contemporary Dryden's generous eulogy of it. He was born in Dublin, and of Irish parentage on his mother's side, in 1625; had at Oxford and Lincoln's Inn a reputation for idleness and extravagance, especially in gambling; obtained some fame in 1641 by The Sophy, and published Cooper's Hill soon afterwards; lived chiefly at Oxford during the war, and chiefly in France after it; was knighted at the Restoration, and received a valuable place, the surveyorship of the king's buildings; was unlucky in marriage, became disordered in mind, and died on 10th April 1668.
Few, except for studious curiosity, are ever likely again to read Denham through, or even any considerable part of his not extensive work. The Sophy was a feeble tragedy; Cooper's Hill, putting aside the patch
and a few other fine lines, is chiefly a creditable, and tolerable though not very early, exercise in the new kind of couplet. A verse paraphrase of the Second Aeneid adopts the older and looser "enjambed" form of the same measure; indeed, this enjambment is common in Denham, and is found in Cooper's Hill itself. Prudence, Justice, Old Age (of all odd things a verse handling of the De Senectute), The Progress of Learning, are preludes to the eighteenth-century concert of couplet tunes on things not tunable. The smaller poems, with occasional flashes, such as the happy transformation (for translation it is not) of Martial's Non ego sum Curius nec Numa nec Titius into
To the grave or the precise ones,
and a few pieces of some nobility like the elegy on Cowley and the attack on Love in favour of Friensship, are apt to oscillate between the tastelessly fantastical and the merely gross. Moreover, Denham is an eminent sinner in the small matters of grammar, rhyme, and measure which disgrace so many writers in the middle and later part of the seventeenth century and are obviously due not to any imperfect condition of the language, but to sheer carelessness and a down-at-heel fashion of literature. He has occupied that place between Cowley and Waller as the "three reformers of our numbers" so long, that he has established a title to it by prescription; and as it has long been understood what this "reform in numbers" meant, there is the less reason for turning him out. But he is much less of a poet than Cowley, while it is an injustice to couple his slatternly muse with the neat and graceful, if not radiantly lovely or bewitching, muse of Edmund Waller.
The Science of the Voices in your Head with Charles Fernyhough
Retropost (2006): Especulaciones neuronales
Retropost #1208 (2 de noviembre de 2006): Especulaciones neuronales
Si tuviera dinero me compraría este libro de cuya existencia me entero con retraso: Mirror Neurons and the Evolution of Brain and Language (Amsterdam: Benjamins, 2002), editado por Maxim I. Stamenov (de la Academia Búlgara de Ciencias) y Vittorio Gallese (de la Universidad de Parma). Es el volumen 42 de la serie "Advances in Consciousness Research". Me parece que en él se tratan cuestiones interesantes de la interfaz entre neurología y semiótica, que en concreto podrían darme pistas sobre una nueva manera de entender el problema de la reflexividad (en semiótica, arte, literatura) y de la importancia central que tiene esta cuestión para una teoría evolutiva y emergentista de la mente y de la percepción. A falta del libro, traduzco aquí la información que sobre el mismo proporciona la editorial:
Investigaciones recientes han mostrado que la capacidad humana de "reflejar" las acciones de otros se origina en el cerebro a un nivel mucho más profundo que el de la consciencia fenoménica.
Recientemente se descubrió una nueva clase de neuronas en el área premotriz del cerebro del mono, que se llamaron "neuronas espejo". Es llamativo que están sintonizadas para excitarse tanto cuando se llevan a cabo como cuando se observan algunas clases específicas de comportamientos y acciones: acciones manuales de precisión, y acciones efectuadas con la boca. Se activan independientemente del agente, y ya sea el propio sujeto o un tercero quien realiza la acción observada. La activación de esta clase de neuronas es automática (inconsciente) y liga la realización y la observación de algunos comportamientos y acciones del sujeto o de otra persona a quien éste se encuentre observando. La peculiar "intersubjetividad" del funcionamiento de esta clase de neuronas espejo y su sorprendente complementariedad con el funcionamiento de la interacción comunicativa estratégica y presencial (cara a cara) puede arrojar nueva luz sobre la arquitectura funcional de los procesos mentales conscientes frente a los inconscientes, y sobre la relación entre las acciones de comportamiento y comunicativas de monos, primates y humanos. Este volumen discute la naturaleza del Sistema de Neuronas Espejo (MNS) tal como lo presenta el equipo de investigación del profesor Giacomo Rizzolatti (Universidad de Parma), el primero en descubrir las neuronas espejo y sus implicaciones para nuestra comprensión de la evolución del cerebro, la mente y de la interacción comunicativa en los primates no humanos y en el hombre. Participantes: Samuel W. Anderson, Marina Koulomzin, Beatrice Beebe & Joseph Jaffe, Bernhard H. Bichakjian, Aude Billard & Michael Arbib, Steven M. Boker & Jennifer L. Rotondo, Stein Braten; Leonardo Fogassi & Vittorio Gallese, Oliver Gruber, Charles N. Li, Loraine McCune, Francis Mcglone, Matthew Howard, Krish Singh & Neil Roberts, India Morrison, Giacomo Rizzolatti, Laila Craighero & Luciano Fadiga; Gerhard Roth Roth, Jennifer L. Rotundo & Steven M. Boker, Ava J. Senkfor, Maxim I. Stamenov, Michael Studdert-Kennedy, Marilyn May Vihman, Kay vogeley & Albert Newen, Edda Weigand, Andreas Wohlschläger & Harold Bekkering, Steve Womble & Stefan Wermter, Sugita Yuuya y Tani Jun. (Tapa dura, viii, 376 p., índice temático, ISBN 90 272241665; 99 euros; rústica, 9027251622; 66 euros).
Me consuelo comprándome a precio reducido Cajal and Consciousness: Scientific Approaches to Consciousness on the Centennial of Ramón y Cajal’s Textura (Annals of the New York Academy of Sciences, 2001), editado por Pedro C. Marijuán, actas de un congreso que se celebró en 1999. (Y sugiero los dos para la biblioteca universitaria, que no figuran en su catálogo...). El otro día me compré la famosa Textura del sistema nervioso de "Cajal" como le dicen allí; de hecho le llevaba dando vueltas al asunto desde que hicieron el congreso centenario en 1999, porque me intriga por dónde andarán ahora las investigaciones sobre la interfaz de la neurología y el complejo psicología cognitiva-semiótica-teoría de la percepción. A ver si consigo leerme estos libros y sacar algo en limpio.
Cajal estudiaba más bien la "textura", o sea, la histología y morfología del sistema nervioso, aunque por supuesto tenía interesantes especulaciones sobre las funciones de esa textura a un nivel que no podía estudiar experimentalmente. En las últimas décadas, me parece, están los estudios de la consciencia conectando con la neurología a un nivel que antes hubiera parecido improcedente. Me leí hace poco libros como Consciousness Lost and Found de Lawrence Weiskrantz (1997) y The Mind’s Past de Michael Gazzaniga (1998) que señalan importantes progresos en esta dirección. La consciencia, problema antes completamente intratable para la ciencia experimental, comienza a estudiarse como el resultado de una compleja red de representaciones elaboradas por sistemas neurológicos relativamente autónomos. Estas "neuronas espejo" podrían ser uno más de estos sistemas (uno altamente revelador). Hay sistemas como los que describe Weiskrantz que son tan específicos que controlan el reconocimiento de caras (no de otros objetos), dando lugar a la prosopagnosia cuando funcionan mal. Otros sistemas de representación visual periférica pueden permitir que existan fenómenos como el de visión ciega (blindsight), cuando el sistema visual central está dañado y no permite la representación a la consciencia de una imagen de los objetos... y sin embargo el sujeto sí puede (sa)"ver" que tiene delante un determinado objeto, aunque no vea ninguna imagen. (Supongo que son fenómenos como estos los que han hecho a veces que la gente sospeche popularmente de algunos ciegos como fingidores o taimados o menos ciegos de lo que parecen). A su vez, Gazzaniga presenta el funcionamiento semiótico global del cerebro concibiéndolo como un "intérprete" que elabora una representación de la realidad, un tanto a lo Matrix o a lo "genio maligno" de Descartes, una representación que (efectuando una grandiosa eliminación del signo, un borramiento de la mediación semiótica que dejaría turulato a Derrida) confundimos, sin más, con "la realidad". O, por así decirlo, la realidad es constituida por el "intérprete" cerebral, no hay nada "fuera" que se parezca a ella en sus propios términos. Son éstos razonamientos que nos llevan a ideas filosóficas ya añejas en teoría del conocimiento: a Hume, o al Berkeley de la New Theory of Vision.
Bien, pues estas "neuronas espejo" parecen ofrecernos el correlato neurológico de otras cuestiones filosóficas que han hecho correr mucha tinta. Por ejemplo, no sé si el uso de "emergencia" en este resumen apresurado del libro para hablar de la "emergencia" del lenguaje se tratará en términos de la teoría de la emergencia de George Herbert Mead, pero podría, y debería hacerse. También esa relación de cara a cara con el otro, la alteridad fundamental del ser humano frente a la inercia de los objetos, la percepción del otro como un objeto con una entidad particular, reflexiva, son cuestiones que han sido tratadas detenidamente por la fenomenología del siglo XX. Recordemos el observador de Sartre en El Ser y la Nada cuando siente que se vuelve objeto de la mirada. Recordemos a Merleau-Ponty y su tratamiento de la fenomenología de la alteridad como un problema específico. Por primera vez parece que estas cuestiones van a poder tratarse de una manera que tienda puentes o abra un terreno común entre la neurología experimental y las teorías filosóficas del conocimiento que van más allá de la psicología behaviorista. Nada menos que una base neurológica para la filosofía de la interpersonalidad.
En cuestiones de espejos y reflexividad, a mí me interesaría de modo especial saber si se ha hecho algo en una dirección también muy interesante y parcialmente relacionada con ésta. Si ha llegado a identificarse un funcionamiento neuronal que se corresponda con el reconocimiento de un objeto como tal objeto. Hay una dimensión reflexiva y conceptual en la percepción, especialmente elaborada en la percepción humana, y muy particularmente en la percepción mediada por el lenguaje. Una vez ordenado el mundo "exterior" a base de marcos de referencia y conceptos, el acto de percepción no se limita, creo, a recibir estímulos externos y procesarlos como tales, sino que este procesamiento conlleva un elemento de proyección, digamos que el sujeto no sólo percibe lo que hay, sino que proyecta al órgano sensorial (o al sistema neurológico correspondiente, no sé) lo que ha de percibir, un poco como esas teorías de la visión renacentistas que figuraban rayos saliendo del ojo hacia los objetos (no sé si escojo una buena imagen). Un caso especial de esta proyección reflexiva se ve en la aplicación de esquemas cognoscitivos, perceptuales, estructurales, o narrativos, para captar y organizar la estructura de un objeto de conocimiento. Es especialmente vistoso el caso en que una representación (representación en segundo grado, digo, no representación elaborada por el "intérprete" cerebral) se reprocesa como tal signo, si en origen se había confundido con el objeto original: así un objeto reinterpretado como un reflejo, una figura humana reinterpretada como un maniquí, una mise en abyme, un falso suelo narrativo o ruptura de marco, etc. Estas formas curiosas, paradojas, relaciones especulares y problemas semióticos de la percepción nos hacen especialmente conscientes de que vivimos en un sistema de representaciones—they bring the unreal world too strangely near.
La existencia de neuronas espejo y su relación con la comunicación interpersonal nos hace intuir, además, que estamos especialmente atentos no sólo a los mundos virtuales que construimos mediante la manipulación semiótica, sino también al lugar de los otros en estos mundos... y a los mundos que ellos construyen dentro de nuestro mundo. Hay materia aquí para abundantes reflexiones y especulaciones que por hoy interrumpiré. Me voy a llevar la moto a la ITV.
(¡Qué bien! Me organizan una jornada interdisciplinar sobre neurociencias en la puerta de casa: http://bifi.unizar.es/neurociencia.php).
(PS: Pues fantástico; logro asistir a unas poquitas ponencias de la jornada de Neurociencias, incluida una sobre la risa del propio Marijuán. Se han oído cosas muy interesantes: análisis de la respuesta la sensibilidad de heridas y cicatrices a luz de colores (sorprendente), estudios del reconocimiento de sonidos de niños disléxicos, la risa analizada como un complejo comunicativo/fisiológico, con elementos de interacción social y también de reorientación de tensiones de elaboración interpretativa en el sistema nervioso.... Vamos, que ha sido una experiencia bastante interesante en cuanto a las relaciones de la medicina semiótica con la neurología y con otras disciplinas. A mí me iba la cabeza todo el rato a lo mío: esquemas repetitivos interiorizados como patrones de respuesta, ya se llamen conceptos, marcos, palabras, signos escritos o identificados... signos que a mi entender son reproyectados a los sistemas sensoriales para permitir la experiencia consciente de los mismos. Para hacer la piedra pétrea, tenemos que interpretarla como tal piedra.
Bueno, pues hasta he hecho una sugerencia. Una ponencia iba sobre el tratamiento de la fibromialgia... en realidad no la llamaban así, pero para mí que la fibromialgia tiene que estar muy relacionada con los sistemas centralizados de procesamiento del dolor que se describían. El dolor no es una experiencia simple, sino interpretada, contextualizada... y muchas veces imaginada. Así, puede haber dolores reflejos en partes del cuerpo simétricas a la herida, por un elemento de reproyección de la sensación. En la ponencia se hablaba de cómo en estados depresivos, etc., se puede activar este complejo de asociaciones y crear dolor donde no debería haberlo en puridad desde un punto de vista fisiológico en sentido estricto. Hasta puede haber tratamiento de alivio mediante procesos repetitivos de atención y de manipulación que "desvíen" o desconecten estos circuitos neuronales mal acostumbrados.... (mi terminología no es muy buena). Bueno, pues yo he hecho la sugerencia de diseñar videojuegos que obliguen al paciente a realizar estos movimientos repetidos y que estimulen estas percepciones que puedan educar la atención hacia otro lado. Podrían diseñarse con esquemas narrativos o visuales que capten la atención y estimulen las respuestas deseadas. Y, en un sistema de realidad virtual, podría incluso convertirse en un tratamiento incorporando movimientos corporales, una especie de gimnasia que no dependiera de la acción de un fisioterapeuta ni tampoco exclusivamente del paciente. En fin, una sugerencia.
Y todavía con estas cosas en la cabeza, entro en una discusión sobre narración y universales que se está desarrollando en la lista de distribución Narrative-L. Robert Scholes comentaba sobre el innatismo lingüístico así: "We don’t know what is there before it takes the shape of an actual language. We have some quality that enables us to acquire grammar and vocabulary. Calling it "deep structure" makes it sound as if we know that it is a "structure," but we don’t really know even that. It is an ability, a disposition. We humans are all born to communicate, born to sign. What conclusions do you want to draw from that?"
Pongo esta respuesta:
If the human ability to make and interpret signs is "an ability, a disposition" one might think that these cognitive processes can be traced back to specific neural networks, and patterns of action in neuron firing, for instance. Perhaps the aural recognition of a word as a word, and not as a mere sequence of sounds, consists in the triggering of some specific feedback processes in the brain. Same thing for visual input (written words), and, mutatis mutandis, for the recognition (or perhaps projection) of larger patterns or linguistic macrostructures (frames, scripts, etc.). Nature and culture have been discussed as perhaps not very useful terms; I think they are useful so long as we think of them as relational, relative to a context of discussion. Perhaps the humanities have tended to see everything as cultural, and the hard sciences (including neurology) as natural, But there must be, certainly, an area of interaction where the interesting things are to be found: when culture becomes naturalized, so to speak, or where nature is culturally expanded and modified. If the neural systems and patterns which make up our "natural" hardware are not that stable but are instead some kind of modifiable software (in early age for some purposes, and in old age as well in some cases) we might find there a fruitful line of research for the investigation of linguistic and narrative universals, and for an increased dialogue between the "natural" sciences and the "social" humanities.
—Y días más tarde, esta otra, sobre la cuestión de la película dentro de la cabeza que nos proyecta el cerebro, según Antonio Damasio, The Feeling of What Happens (1999, 2000):
This Platonic cavern discussion about Damasio’s "film in the head" reminds me of Michael Gazzaniga’s concept of the mind’s "interpreter" (in The Mind’s Past), a brain function which constructs (in a way reminiscent of The Matrix) an ongoing sense of reality, our world in fact, inside our heads, not just with "bottom-up" input from the senses but also with a good deal of "top-down" functions which might be described in terms of schemata, frames, scripts, and so on. There is much ground to explore there in terms of building bridges with narrative theory. I suppose much future discussion about "nature" and "culture" in narrative structures or in the analysis of universals, ideology, etc. will be carried out in neurological terms… not by me, though!
PS (enero 2010): Una vídeo-conferencia de VS Ramachandran sobre las neuronas espejo.
—oOo—
Norah Jones - Concert Privé
En más MLA
En más MLA
Esta referencia
empieza a proliferar en distintos manuales de instrucciones sobre citas académicas basados en el estilo de la Modern Language Association. Por ejemplo aquí en EazyPaper: https://www.eazypaper.com/MLA-examples
o aquí, en Kennett Consolidated School: http://staff.kcsd.org/~rcolgan/Mrs._Colgans_Site/MLA_Citations.html
—en la Facultad de Ciencias Humanas de la Pampa:
http://www.humanas.unlpam.edu.ar/fchst/Docentes/anuario_normas.pdf
—y aquí, más cerca, en la Universidad de Alicante:
https://moodle2015-16.ua.es/moodle/mod/resource/view.php?id=75509
La preferencia por la decimotercera edición (cuando ya voy por la vigésimoprimera) se debe sin duda a que fue ésa la que incluyó la MLA en la séptima edición de su manual de instrucciones para trabajos académicos, véase aquí.
—oOo—

