Experts Solve 1000-Year-Old Mystery of Rare Medieval Blue Ink

Experts Solve 1000-Year-Old Mystery of Rare Medieval Blue Ink

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Portuguese researchers believe that they have identified the long-lost process and plant that provided a unique purple-blue pigment in the Middle Ages . This was used to color many things including cloths, but it was particularly used in illuminated manuscripts, which were masterpieces of the medieval world. The experts were able to recreate the medieval blue ink based on a book written in an extinct language.

The pigment was known as folium and it was famous for its hue and its long-lasting properties. Science News reports that “long-lasting blues are relatively rare among dyes,” and this made folium so prized in the Middle Ages. This blue hue is not like the indigo still widely in use, or those pigments produced from some types of flowers. Atlas Obscura reports that this distinctive blue dye was “responsible for coloring everything from Bible scenes to, later, the rind of a popular Dutch cheese.”

Close-up of Chrozophora tinctoria fruits collected in Portugal and used to recreate the medieval blue ink. Source: Paula Nabais et al. / Science Advances

Lost Blue Pigment

Folium was one of the main sources of blue pigment, along with indigo. After the production of the ink, it was soaked onto a piece of linen. This allowed it to be transported all over the European continent. However, after Gutenberg developed the world’s first printing press, the popularity of books, meant that illuminated manuscripts slowly fell out of use. Over time, folium was used less and less and the process for producing it was lost after the invention of synthetic dyes.

An illuminated manuscript from the Middle Ages. One of these manuscripts included the recipe for recreating the medieval blue ink. (Paula Nabais et al. / NOLA)

The recipe for the hue was lost since at least the 19 th century. Conservation scientists from the New University of Lisbon decided to solve the mystery of how to make the purplish-blue dye. They decided to decipher a 15 th century medieval text on how to produce colors for illuminated books, which were typically produced by Christian monks.

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Translating the Extinct Language

However, this was not an easy process. The book was written in an extinct language Lusitanic, that was spoken by the Judeao-Portuguese community. Portugal had a vibrant Jewish population in the Middle Ages until its members were expelled or driven underground by the Inquisition.

There were problems with translating some of the instructions and Atlas Obscura reports that “there’s more than one way to skin a cat, and other sources provided different instructions.” However, the team of researchers retrieved enough information to attempt to resurrect folium after at least a century.

They knew that the small silvery-green herb Chrozophora tinctoria was the ink’s sole ingredient. While the work did not state the name of the plant, it left behind a vivid description and this allowed the researchers to understand what plant to use. Paula Nabais, the study’s lead author, stated that “it says how the plant looks, how the fruits look … it’s very specific, also telling you when and where the plant grows, and when you can collect it,” reports Atlas Obscura .

The Chrozophora tinctorial herb used to recreate the medieval blue pigment. / Science Advances )

Deciphering the Mystery

The manuscript gave detailed instructions and even gave a location for the best plants to use. Nabais and her colleagues travelled to Monsaraz, in southern Portugal. They collected the fruit of the plant, which is the size of a small nut along the roadside in the fall. After a preliminary examination, it became clear that it contained a blue fluid. Based on their research, they knew that the seeds could not be crushed because this could impact on the extraction of the pigment.

They brought the specimens back to their laboratory. Science News reports that “the team used a suite of analytical techniques to zero in on the dye molecule’s structure.” They were able to show that the chemical compound of the purplish-blue hue was identical to the plant’s fruit on the molecular level. Then they examined molecules from the fruit of the plant and “simulated the light’s interaction with the candidate molecule, to check whether it would give them their desired blue,” according to Science News . This was the case and then the scientists decided to extract the pigment that was so valued in the Middle Ages.

Trial and Error Helps Resurrect the Recipe

Then the team decided to copy the procedures that were outlined in the medieval texts. Melo told Atlas Obscura that “part of our expertise is to make this conversion from what is actually written and sometimes not so clear enough for us, and what they were making.” The vague nature of the instructions meant that the process was time-consuming. After a period of trial and error, they were able to extract the pigment from the tiny fruit.

Cloths prepared with the recreated medieval blue ink from the juice of the fruits, after experts followed the ancient instructions. / Science Advances )

Melo told Science News that “it was great fun to recover these recipes.” There is more work that needs to be done on the formula. However, the team now hope that folium can be once again used by experts who are preserving rare illuminated books, as the medieval dye could last centuries.

Melo is quoted by Atlas Obscura as saying that “we don’t have such paints now. So, this is part of our research—to know as much as possible about this material that was completely lost.” The discovery could help in the development of pigments that are more long-lasting and durable than synthetic dyes.

The distant village of Kodinhi, Kerala has a secret. Not a particularly hidden secret, mind you&mdashit&rsquos actually pretty hard to miss. The village&rsquos claim to fame is the abnormal amount of twins born there. Kodinhi only has around 2,000 families, yet there are 250 sets of twins officially registered there. In fact, there could be many more&mdashexperts estimate there could be as many as 350 sets of twins in the area.

It gets stranger. It is estimated that the number of twins born in the village is increasing every year, and no one really knows why. This is all the more remarkable because twins are especially rare in India&mdashon average, four out of every 1,000 Indian births are twins. In Kodinhi, the number is 45 per 1,000 births. Doctors have absolutely no idea what is causing this strange phenomenon. They assume there must be some unknown hereditary factor at work, or maybe it&rsquos something they eat. Until they find out for sure, the Village of Twins remains one of the strangest curiosities of perhaps the most mysterious country in the world.

Ancient skeletons could help solve mystery of rare disease

TWO ancient skeletons with a rare genetic bone disease unearthed from a medieval Irish graveyard may hold key insights for medical experts.

A n archaeologist believes the discovery of the remains -- afflicted by massive bone growths -- could help modern-day clinicians glean more information about that unusual debilitating condition.

There have only been 16 cases of the hereditary bone growth disorder, now known as multiple osteochondromas, identified in ancient remains worldwide. Four of these have been located in Ireland.

The two skeletons -- one around 800-years-old and the other 1,100-years-old -- dug up along with the remains of more than 1,000 men, women and children from the Ballyhanna graveyard site at Ballyshannon, Co Donegal, have attracted the attention of international medical researchers.

Dr Eileen Murphy, an archaeology lecturer at Queen's University Belfast, believes the two cases could "help inform clinicians" in understanding the disease.

"I think it is good for clinicians to look at how diseases change and the way they turn up in the body over time. Some of the Jericho cases (dating from the Middle Bronze Age) are very old and can show if it has progressed in any way or mutated," Dr Murphy, who is writing a paper on the two cases, said.

A sample of the 800-year-old remains from Skeleton 331 known as 'Ballyhanna Man' was sent to a genetics unit in Italy for further examination.

"We took a sample of the bone to send off to genetics units but the DNA in the bone was too degraded," Dr Murphy explained.

However, they hold hopes that in the future a specialised laboratory may be able to extract DNA of sufficient quality for analysis to provide clues as to the evolution of the disease, which is estimated to affect one in 50,000 people.

Researchers from the Institute of Technology in Sligo and Queen's University Belfast are collaborating on the Ballyhanna project.

The 800-year-old remains of the worst-affected man, who died aged between 25 to 35 years old, showed he would have been physically disabled due to massive bony projections.

It is likely that he would have suffered from pain and have been recognised by others as having a physically debilitating condition from a young age.

The remains of the other man, who died a few hundred years earlier aged around 35-50 years, had less prominent growths.

In both cases, they were interred in the community graveyard, suggesting they were not shunned and treated as equals.

A US group run by parents' of children affected by the disease has contacted the Ballyhanna project to learn more about the discoveries.

The remains were discovered when the forgotten cemetery at Ballyhanna was excavated in 2003/2004 ahead of the building of a new stretch of motorway.


Codicology Edit

The codicology, or physical characteristics of the manuscript, has been studied by researchers. The manuscript measures 23.5 by 16.2 by 5 cm (9.3 by 6.4 by 2.0 in), with hundreds of vellum pages collected into 18 quires. The total number of pages is around 240, but the exact number depends on how the manuscript's unusual foldouts are counted. [12] The quires have been numbered from 1 to 20 in various locations, using numerals consistent with the 1400s, and the top righthand corner of each recto (righthand) page has been numbered from 1 to 116, using numerals of a later date. From the various numbering gaps in the quires and pages, it seems likely that in the past the manuscript had at least 272 pages in 20 quires, some of which were already missing when Wilfrid Voynich acquired the manuscript in 1912. There is strong evidence that many of the book's bifolios were reordered at various points in its history, and that the original page order may well have been quite different from what it is today. [13] [10]

Parchment, covers, and binding Edit

Radiocarbon dating of samples from various parts of the manuscript was performed at the University of Arizona in 2009. The results were consistent for all samples tested and indicated a date for the parchment between 1404 and 1438. [24] Protein testing in 2014 revealed that the parchment was made from calf skin, and multispectral analysis showed that it was unwritten on before the manuscript was created (not a palimpsest). The parchment was created with care, but deficiencies exist and the quality is assessed as average, at best. [24] The parchment is prepared from "at least fourteen or fifteen entire calfskins". [25]

Some folios are thicker than the usual parchment thickness, such as folios 42 and 47. [26]

The goat skin [27] binding and covers are not original to the book, but date to its possession by the Collegio Romano. [12] Insect holes are present on the first and last folios of the manuscript in the current order and suggest that a wooden cover was present before the later covers, and discolouring on the edges points to a tanned-leather inside cover. [24]

Ink Edit

Many pages contain substantial drawings or charts which are colored with paint. Based on modern analysis using polarized light microscopy (PLM), it has been determined that a quill pen and iron gall ink were used for the text and figure outlines. The ink of the drawings, text and page and quire numbers have similar microscopic characteristics. Energy-dispersive X-ray spectroscopy (EDS) performed in 2009 revealed that the inks contained major amounts of carbon, iron, sulfur, potassium, and calcium and trace amounts of copper and occasionally zinc. EDS did not show the presence of lead, while X-ray diffraction (XRD) identified potassium lead oxide, potassium hydrogen sulphate and syngenite in one of the samples tested. The similarity between the drawing inks and text inks suggested a contemporaneous origin. [13]

Paint Edit

Colored paint was applied (somewhat crudely) to the ink outlined figures, possibly at a later date. The blue, white, red-brown, and green paints of the manuscript have been analyzed using PLM, XRD, EDS, and scanning electron microscopy (SEM).

  • The blue paint proved to be ground azurite with minor traces of the copper oxide cuprite. [13]
  • The white paint is likely a mixture of eggwhite and calcium carbonate. [13]
  • The green paint is tentatively characterized by copper and copper-chlorine resinate the crystalline material might be atacamite or some other copper-chlorine compound. [13]
  • Analysis of the red-brown paint indicated a red ochre with the crystal phases hematite and iron sulfide. Minor amounts of lead sulfide and palmierite are possibly present in the red-brown paint. [13]

The pigments used were deemed inexpensive. [24]

Retouching Edit

Computer scientist Jorge Stolfi of the University of Campinas highlighted that parts of the text and drawings have been modified, using darker ink over a fainter, earlier script. Evidence for this is visible in various folios, for example f1r, f3v, f26v, f57v, f67r2, f71r, f72v1, f72v3 and f73r. [28]

Text Edit

Every page in the manuscript contains text, mostly in an unidentified language, but some have extraneous writing in Latin script. The bulk of the text in the 240 page manuscript is written in an unknown script, running left to right. Most of the characters are composed of one or two simple pen strokes. There exists some dispute as to whether certain characters are distinct, but a script of 20–25 characters would account for virtually all of the text the exceptions are a few dozen rarer characters that occur only once or twice each. There is no obvious punctuation. [4]

Much of the text is written in a single column in the body of a page, with a slightly ragged right margin and paragraph divisions and sometimes with stars in the left margin. [12] Other text occurs in charts or as labels associated with illustrations. There are no indications of any errors or corrections made at any place in the document. The ductus flows smoothly, giving the impression that the symbols were not enciphered there is no delay between characters, as would normally be expected in written encoded text.

Extraneous writing Edit

Only a few of the words in the manuscript are thought to have not been written in the unknown script: [17]

  • f1r: A sequence of Latin letters in the right margin parallel with characters from the unknown script, also the now-unreadable signature of "Jacobj à Tepenece" is found in the bottom margin.
  • f17r: A line of writing in the Latin script in the top margin.
  • f70v–f73v: The astrological series of diagrams in the astronomical section has the names of 10 of the months (from March to December) written in Latin script, with spelling suggestive of the medieval languages of France, northwest Italy, or the Iberian Peninsula. [29]
  • f66r: A small number of words in the bottom left corner near a drawing of a nude man have been read as "der Mussteil", a High German[17] phrase for "a widow's share".
  • f116v: Four lines written in rather distorted Latin script, except for two words in the unknown script. The words in Latin script appear to be distorted with characteristics of the unknown language. The lettering resembles European alphabets of the late 14th and 15th centuries, but the words do not seem to make sense in any language. [30] Whether these bits of Latin script were part of the original text or were added later is not known.

Transcription Edit

Various transcription alphabets have been created to equate Voynich characters with Latin characters to help with cryptanalysis, [31] such as the Extensible (originally: European) Voynich Alphabet (EVA). [32] The first major one was created by the "First Study Group", led by cryptographer William F. Friedman in the 1940s, where each line of the manuscript was transcribed to an IBM punch card to make it machine readable. [33] [34]

Statistical patterns Edit

The text consists of over 170,000 characters, [14] with spaces dividing the text into about 35,000 groups of varying length, usually referred to as "words" or "word tokens" (37,919) 8,114 of those words are considered unique "word types." [35] The structure of these words seems to follow phonological or orthographic laws of some sort for example, certain characters must appear in each word (like English vowels), some characters never follow others, or some may be doubled or tripled, but others may not. The distribution of letters within words is also rather peculiar: Some characters occur only at the beginning of a word, some only at the end (like Greek ς), and some always in the middle section. [36]

Many researchers have commented upon the highly regular structure of the words. [37] Professor Gonzalo Rubio, an expert in ancient languages at Pennsylvania State University, stated:

The things we know as grammatical markers – things that occur commonly at the beginning or end of words, such as 's' or 'd' in our language, and that are used to express grammar, never appear in the middle of 'words' in the Voynich manuscript. That's unheard of for any Indo-European, Hungarian, or Finnish language. [38]

Stephan Vonfelt studied statistical properties of the distribution of letters and their correlations (properties which can be vaguely characterized as rhythmic resonance, alliteration or assonance) and found that under that respect Voynichese is more similar to the Mandarin Chinese pinyin text of the Records of the Grand Historian than to the text of works from European languages, although the numerical differences between Voynichese and Mandarin Chinese pinyin look larger than those between Mandarin Chinese pinyin and European languages. [39] [ better source needed ]

Practically no words have fewer than two letters or more than 10. [14] Some words occur in only certain sections, or in only a few pages others occur throughout the manuscript. Few repetitions occur among the thousand or so labels attached to the illustrations. There are instances where the same common word appears up to three times in a row [14] (see Zipf's law). Words that differ by only one letter also repeat with unusual frequency, causing single-substitution alphabet decipherings to yield babble-like text. In 1962, cryptanalyst Elizebeth Friedman described such statistical analyses as "doomed to utter frustration". [40]

Illustrations Edit

The illustrations are conventionally used to divide most of the manuscript into six different sections, since the text itself cannot be read. Each section is typified by illustrations with different styles and supposed subject matter [14] except for the last section, in which the only drawings are small stars in the margin. The following are the sections and their conventional names:

  • Herbal, 112 folios: Each page displays one or two plants and a few paragraphs of text, a format typical of European herbals of the time. Some parts of these drawings are larger and cleaner copies of sketches seen in the "pharmaceutical" section. None of the plants depicted are unambiguously identifiable. [12][41]
  • Astronomical, 21 folios: Contains circular diagrams suggestive of astronomy or astrology, some of them with suns, moons, and stars. One series of 12 diagrams depicts conventional symbols for the zodiacal constellations (two fish for Pisces, a bull for Taurus, a hunter with crossbow for Sagittarius, etc.). Each of these has 30 female figures arranged in two or more concentric bands. Most of the females are at least partly nude, and each holds what appears to be a labeled star or is shown with the star attached to either arm by what could be a tether or cord of some kind. The last two pages of this section were lost (Aquarius and Capricornus, roughly January and February), while Aries and Taurus are split into four paired diagrams with 15 women and 15 stars each. Some of these diagrams are on fold-out pages. [12][41]
  • Balneological, 20 folios: A dense, continuous text interspersed with drawings, mostly showing small nude women, some wearing crowns, bathing in pools or tubs connected by an elaborate network of pipes. The bifolio consists of folios 78 (verso) and 81 (recto) it forms an integrated design, with water flowing from one folio to the other. [24][41]
  • Cosmological, 13 folios: More circular diagrams, but they are of an obscure nature. This section also has foldouts one of them spans six pages, commonly called the Rosettes folio, and contains a map or diagram with nine "islands" or "rosettes" connected by "causeways" and containing castles, as well as what might be a volcano. [12][41][42]
  • Pharmaceutical, 34 folios: Many labeled drawings of isolated plant parts (roots, leaves, etc.), objects resembling apothecary jars, ranging in style from the mundane to the fantastical, and a few text paragraphs. [12][41]
  • Recipes, 22 folios: Full pages of text broken into many short paragraphs, each marked with a star in the left margin. [12][41]

Five folios contain only text, and at least 28 folios are missing from the manuscript. [41]

Purpose Edit

The overall impression given by the surviving leaves of the manuscript is that it was meant to serve as a pharmacopoeia or to address topics in medieval or early modern medicine. However, the puzzling details of the illustrations have fueled many theories about the book's origin, the contents of its text, and the purpose for which it was intended. [14]

The first section of the book is almost certainly herbal, but attempts have failed to identify the plants, either with actual specimens or with the stylized drawings of contemporaneous herbals. [43] Only a few of the plant drawings can be identified with reasonable certainty, such as a wild pansy and the maidenhair fern. The herbal pictures that match pharmacological sketches appear to be clean copies of them, except that missing parts were completed with improbable-looking details. In fact, many of the plant drawings in the herbal section seem to be composite: the roots of one species have been fastened to the leaves of another, with flowers from a third. [43]

The basins and tubes in the balneological section are sometimes interpreted as implying a connection to alchemy, yet they bear little obvious resemblance to the alchemical equipment of the period. [ citation needed ]

Astrological considerations frequently played a prominent role in herb gathering, bloodletting, and other medical procedures common during the likeliest dates of the manuscript. However, interpretation remains speculative, apart from the obvious Zodiac symbols and one diagram possibly showing the classical planets. [14]

Much of the early history of the book is unknown, [44] though the text and illustrations are all characteristically European. In 2009, University of Arizona researchers performed radiocarbon dating on the manuscript's vellum and dated it between 1404 and 1438. [2] [45] [46] In addition, McCrone Associates in Westmont, Illinois, found that the paints in the manuscript were of materials to be expected from that period of European history. There have been erroneous reports that McCrone Associates indicated much of the ink was added not long after the creation of the parchment, but their official report contains no statement of this. [13]

The first confirmed owner was Georg Baresch, a 17th century alchemist from Prague. Baresch was apparently puzzled about this "Sphynx" that had been "taking up space uselessly in his library" for many years. [9] He learned that Jesuit scholar Athanasius Kircher from the Collegio Romano had published a Coptic (Egyptian) dictionary and claimed to have deciphered the Egyptian hieroglyphs Baresch twice sent a sample copy of the script to Kircher in Rome, asking for clues. The 1639 letter from Baresch to Kircher is the earliest known mention of the manuscript to have been confirmed. [16]

Whether Kircher answered the request is not known, but he was apparently interested enough to try to acquire the book, which Baresch refused to yield. [ citation needed ] Upon Baresch's death, the manuscript passed to his friend Jan Marek Marci (also known as Johannes Marcus Marci), then rector of Charles University in Prague. A few years later, Marci sent the book to Kircher, his long-time friend and correspondent. [16]

Marci also sent Kircher a cover letter (in Latin, dated August 19, 1665 or 1666) that was still attached to the book when Voynich acquired it: [9] [47] [48] [49] [50] [51] [52]

Reverend and Distinguished Sir, Father in Christ:

This book, bequeathed to me by an intimate friend, I destined for you, my very dear Athanasius, as soon as it came into my possession, for I was convinced that it could be read by no one except yourself.

The former owner of this book asked your opinion by letter, copying and sending you a portion of the book from which he believed you would be able to read the remainder, but he at that time refused to send the book itself. To its deciphering he devoted unflagging toil, as is apparent from attempts of his which I send you herewith, and he relinquished hope only with his life. But his toil was in vain, for such Sphinxes as these obey no one but their master, Kircher. Accept now this token, such as it is and long overdue though it be, of my affection for you, and burst through its bars, if there are any, with your wonted success.

Dr. Raphael, a tutor in the Bohemian language to Ferdinand III, then King of Bohemia, told me the said book belonged to the Emperor Rudolph and that he presented to the bearer who brought him the book 600 ducats. He believed the author was Roger Bacon, the Englishman. On this point I suspend judgement it is your place to define for us what view we should take thereon, to whose favor and kindness I unreservedly commit myself and remain

At the command of your Reverence, Joannes Marcus Marci of Cronland Prague, 19th August, 1665 [or 1666]

The "Dr. Raphael" is believed to be Raphael Sobiehrd-Mnishovsky, [4] and the sum would be about 2 kg of gold.

While Wilfrid Voynich took Raphael's claim at face value, the Bacon authorship theory has been largely discredited. [17] However, a piece of evidence supporting Rudolph's ownership is the now almost invisible name or signature, on the first page of the book, of Jacobus Horcicky de Tepenecz, the head of Rudolph's botanical gardens in Prague. Jacobus may have received the book from Rudolph II as part of the debt that was owed upon his [ whose? ] death. [44]

No records of the book for the next 200 years have been found, but in all likelihood, it was stored with the rest of Kircher's correspondence in the library of the Collegio Romano (now the Pontifical Gregorian University). [16] It probably remained there until the troops of Victor Emmanuel II of Italy captured the city in 1870 and annexed the Papal States. The new Italian government decided to confiscate many properties of the Church, including the library of the Collegio. [16] Many books of the university's library were hastily transferred to the personal libraries of its faculty just before this happened, according to investigations by Xavier Ceccaldi and others, and those books were exempt from confiscation. [16] Kircher's correspondence was among those books, and so, apparently, was the Voynich manuscript, as it still bears the ex libris of Petrus Beckx, head of the Jesuit order and the university's rector at the time. [12] [16]

Beckx's private library was moved to the Villa Mondragone, Frascati, a large country palace near Rome that had been bought by the Society of Jesus in 1866 and housed the headquarters of the Jesuits' Ghislieri College. [16]

In 1903, the Society of Jesus (Collegio Romano) was short of money and decided to sell some of its holdings discreetly to the Vatican Library. The sale took place in 1912, but not all of the manuscripts listed for sale ended up going to the Vatican. [53] Wilfrid Voynich acquired 30 of these manuscripts, among them the one which now bears his name. [16] He spent the next seven years attempting to interest scholars in deciphering the script, while he worked to determine the origins of the manuscript. [4]

In 1930, the manuscript was inherited after Wilfrid's death by his widow Ethel Voynich, author of the novel The Gadfly and daughter of mathematician George Boole. She died in 1960 and left the manuscript to her close friend Anne Nill. In 1961, Nill sold the book to antique book dealer Hans P. Kraus. Kraus was unable to find a buyer and donated the manuscript to Yale University in 1969, where it was catalogued as "MS 408", [17] sometimes also referred to as "Beinecke MS 408". [12]

Timeline of ownership Edit

The timeline of ownership of the Voynich manuscript is given below. The time when it was possibly created is shown in green (early 1400s), based on carbon dating of the vellum. [44] Periods of unknown ownership are indicated in white. The commonly accepted owners of the 17th century are shown in orange the long period of storage in the Collegio Romano is yellow. The location where Wilfrid Voynich allegedly acquired the manuscript (Frascati) is shown in green (late 1800s) Voynich's ownership is shown in red, and modern owners are highlighted blue.

Many people have been proposed as possible authors of the Voynich manuscript, among them Roger Bacon, John Dee or Edward Kelley, Giovanni Fontana, and Voynich.

Early history Edit

Marci's 1665/1666 cover letter to Kircher says that, according to his friend the late Raphael Mnishovsky, the book had once been bought by Rudolf II, Holy Roman Emperor and King of Bohemia for 600 ducats (66.42 troy ounce actual gold weight, or 2.07 kg). (Mnishovsky had died in 1644, more than 20 years earlier, and the deal must have occurred before Rudolf's abdication in 1611, at least 55 years before Marci's letter. However, Karl Widemann sold books to Rudolf II in March 1599.)

According to the letter, Mnishovsky (but not necessarily Rudolf) speculated that the author was 13th century Franciscan friar and polymath Roger Bacon. [6] Marci said that he was suspending judgment about this claim, but it was taken quite seriously by Wilfrid Voynich, who did his best to confirm it. [16] Voynich contemplated the possibility that the author was Albertus Magnus if not Roger Bacon. [54]

The assumption that Bacon was the author led Voynich to conclude that John Dee sold the manuscript to Rudolf. Dee was a mathematician and astrologer at the court of Queen Elizabeth I of England who was known to have owned a large collection of Bacon's manuscripts.

Dee and his scrier (spirit medium) Edward Kelley lived in Bohemia for several years, where they had hoped to sell their services to the emperor. However, this sale seems quite unlikely, according to John Schuster, because Dee's meticulously kept diaries do not mention it. [16]

If Bacon did not create the Voynich manuscript, a supposed connection to Dee is much weakened. It was thought possible, prior to the carbon dating of the manuscript, that Dee or Kelley might have written it and spread the rumor that it was originally a work of Bacon's in the hopes of later selling it. [55] ( p 249 )

Fabrication by Voynich Edit

Some suspect Voynich of having fabricated the manuscript himself. [7] As an antique book dealer, he probably had the necessary knowledge and means, and a lost book by Roger Bacon would have been worth a fortune. Furthermore, Baresch's letter and Marci's letter only establish the existence of a manuscript, not that the Voynich manuscript is the same one mentioned. These letters could possibly have been the motivation for Voynich to fabricate the manuscript, assuming that he was aware of them. However, many consider the expert internal dating of the manuscript and the June 1999 [44] discovery of Baresch's letter to Kircher as having eliminated this possibility. [7] [16]

Eamon Duffy says that the radiocarbon dating of the parchment (or, more accurately, vellum) "effectively rules out any possibility that the manuscript is a post-medieval forgery", as the consistency of the pages indicates origin from a single source, and "it is inconceivable" that a quantity of unused parchment comprising "at least fourteen or fifteen entire calfskins" could have survived from the early 15th century. [25]

Giovanni Fontana Edit

It has been suggested that some illustrations in the books of an Italian engineer, Giovanni Fontana, slightly resemble Voynich illustrations. [56] Fontana was familiar with cryptography and used it in his books, although he did not use the Voynich script but a simple substitution cipher. In the book Secretum de thesauro experimentorum ymaginationis hominum (Secret of the treasure-room of experiments in man's imagination), written c. 1430, Fontana described mnemonic machines, written in his cypher. [57] That book and his Bellicorum instrumentorum liber both used a cryptographic system, described as a simple, rational cipher, based on signs without letters or numbers. [58]

Other theories Edit

Sometime before 1921, Voynich was able to read a name faintly written at the foot of the manuscript's first page: "Jacobj à Tepenece". This is taken to be a reference to Jakub Hořčický of Tepenec, also known by his Latin name Jacobus Sinapius. Rudolph II had ennobled him in 1607, had appointed him his Imperial Distiller, and had made him curator of his botanical gardens as well as one of his personal physicians. Voynich (and many other people after him) concluded that Jacobus owned the Voynich manuscript prior to Baresch, and he drew a link from that to Rudolf's court, in confirmation of Mnishovsky's story.

Jacobus's name has faded further since Voynich saw it, but is still legible under ultraviolet light. It does not match the copy of his signature in a document located by Jan Hurych in 2003. [1] [8] As a result, it has been suggested that the signature was added later, possibly even fraudulently by Voynich himself. [1]

Baresch's letter bears some resemblance to a hoax that orientalist Andreas Mueller once played on Athanasius Kircher. Mueller sent some unintelligible text to Kircher with a note explaining that it had come from Egypt, and asking him for a translation. Kircher reportedly solved it. [59] It has been speculated that these were both cryptographic tricks played on Kircher to make him look foolish. [59]

Raphael Mnishovsky, the friend of Marci who was the reputed source of the Bacon story, was himself a cryptographer and apparently invented a cipher which he claimed was uncrackable (c. 1618). [60] This has led to the speculation that Mnishovsky might have produced the Voynich manuscript as a practical demonstration of his cipher and made Baresch his unwitting test subject. Indeed, the disclaimer in the Voynich manuscript cover letter could mean that Marci suspected some kind of deception. [60]

In his 2006 book, Nick Pelling proposed that the Voynich manuscript was written by 15th century North Italian architect Antonio Averlino (also known as "Filarete"), a theory broadly consistent with the radiocarbon dating. [10]

Many hypotheses have been developed about the Voynich manuscript's "language", called Voynichese:

Ciphers Edit

According to the "letter-based cipher" theory, the Voynich manuscript contains a meaningful text in some European language that was intentionally rendered obscure by mapping it to the Voynich manuscript "alphabet" through a cipher of some sort—an algorithm that operated on individual letters. This was the working hypothesis for most 20th-century deciphering attempts, including an informal team of NSA cryptographers led by William F. Friedman in the early 1950s. [34]

The main argument for this theory is that it is difficult to explain a European author using a strange alphabet—except as an attempt to hide information. Indeed, even Roger Bacon knew about ciphers, and the estimated date for the manuscript roughly coincides with the birth of cryptography in Europe as a relatively systematic discipline. [ citation needed ]

The counterargument is that almost all cipher systems consistent with that era fail to match what is seen in the Voynich manuscript. For example, simple substitution ciphers would be excluded because the distribution of letter frequencies does not resemble that of any known language while the small number of different letter shapes used implies that nomenclator and homophonic ciphers would be ruled out, because these typically employ larger cipher alphabets. Polyalphabetic ciphers were invented by Alberti in the 1460s and included the later Vigenère cipher, but they usually yield ciphertexts where all cipher shapes occur with roughly equal probability, quite unlike the language-like letter distribution which the Voynich manuscript appears to have.

However, the presence of many tightly grouped shapes in the Voynich manuscript (such as "or", "ar", "ol", "al", "an", "ain", "aiin", "air", "aiir", "am", "ee", "eee", among others) does suggest that its cipher system may make use of a "verbose cipher", where single letters in a plaintext get enciphered into groups of fake letters. For example, the first two lines of page f15v (seen above) contain "oror or" and "or or oro r", which strongly resemble how Roman numerals such as "CCC" or "XXXX" would look if verbosely enciphered. [61]

It is possible that the text was encrypted by starting from a fundamentally simple cipher, then augmenting it by adding nulls (meaningless symbols), homophones (duplicate symbols), a transposition cipher (letter rearrangement), false word breaks etc. [ citation needed ]

Codes Edit

According to the "codebook cipher" theory, the Voynich manuscript "words" would actually be codes to be looked up in a "dictionary" or codebook. The main evidence for this theory is that the internal structure and length distribution of many words are similar to those of Roman numerals, which at the time would be a natural choice for the codes. However, book-based ciphers would be viable for only short messages, because they are very cumbersome to write and to read. [ citation needed ]

Shorthand Edit

In 1943, Joseph Martin Feely claimed that the manuscript was a scientific diary written in shorthand. According to D’Imperio, [17] this was "Latin, but in a system of abbreviated forms not considered acceptable by other scholars, who unanimously rejected his readings of the text".

Steganography Edit

This theory holds that the text of the Voynich manuscript is mostly meaningless, but contains meaningful information hidden in inconspicuous details—e.g., the second letter of every word, or the number of letters in each line. This technique, called steganography, is very old and was described by Johannes Trithemius in 1499. Though the plain text was speculated to have been extracted by a Cardan grille (an overlay with cut-outs for the meaningful text) of some sort, this seems somewhat unlikely because the words and letters are not arranged on anything like a regular grid. Still, steganographic claims are hard to prove or disprove, because stegotexts can be arbitrarily hard to find.

It has been suggested that the meaningful text could be encoded in the length or shape of certain pen strokes. [62] [63] There are indeed examples of steganography from about that time that use letter shape (italic vs. upright) to hide information. However, when examined at high magnification, the Voynich manuscript pen strokes seem quite natural, and substantially affected by the uneven surface of the vellum. [ citation needed ]

Natural language Edit

Statistical analysis of the text reveals patterns similar to those of natural languages. For instance, the word entropy (about 10 bits per word) is similar to that of English or Latin texts. [3] Amâncio et al (2013) [64] argued that the Voynich manuscript "is mostly compatible with natural languages and incompatible with random texts." [64]

The linguist Jacques Guy once suggested that the Voynich manuscript text could be some little-known natural language, written plaintext with an invented alphabet. He suggested Chinese in jest, but later comparison of word length statistics with Vietnamese and Chinese made him view that hypothesis seriously. [65] In many language families of East and Central Asia, mainly Sino-Tibetan (Chinese, Tibetan, and Burmese), Austroasiatic (Vietnamese, Khmer, etc.) and possibly Tai (Thai, Lao, etc.), morphemes generally have only one syllable [66] and syllables have a rather rich structure, including tonal patterns. Other intriguing similarities are the apparent division of the year into 360 degrees of the ecliptic (rather than 365 days), in groups of 15 and starting with Pisces, which are features of the Chinese agricultural calendar (èr shí sì jié qi, 二十四节气/節氣). [ citation needed ]

Child (1976) [67] , a linguist of Indo-European languages for the U.S. National Security Agency, proposed that the manuscript was written in a "hitherto unknown North Germanic dialect". [67] He identified in the manuscript a "skeletal syntax several elements of which are reminiscent of certain Germanic languages", while the content itself is expressed using "a great deal of obscurity." [68]

In February 2014, Professor Stephen Bax of the University of Bedfordshire made public his research into using "bottom up" methodology to understand the manuscript. His method involved looking for and translating proper nouns, in association with relevant illustrations, in the context of other languages of the same time period. A paper he posted online offers tentative translation of 14 characters and 10 words. [69] [70] [71] [72] He suggested the text is a treatise on nature written in a natural language, rather than a code.

Tucker & Talbert (2014) [73] published a paper claiming a positive identification of 37 plants, 6 animals, and one mineral referenced in the manuscript to plant drawings in the Libellus de Medicinalibus Indorum Herbis or Badianus manuscript, a fifteenth-century Aztec herbal [73] Together with the presence of atacamite in the paint, they argue that the plants were from colonial New Spain and the text represented Nahuatl, the language of the Aztecs. They date the manuscript to between 1521 (the date of the Spanish conquest of the Aztec Empire) and circa 1576. These dates contradict the earleir radiocarbon date of the vellum and other elements of the manuscript. However, they argued that the vellum could have been stored and used at a later date. The analysis has been criticized by other Voynich manuscript researchers, [74] who argued that a skilled forger could construct plants that coincidentally have a passing resemblance to theretofore undiscovered existing plants. [75]

In 2014, a team led by Diego Amancio of the University of São Paulo published a study using statistical methods to analyse the relationships of the words in the text. Instead of trying to find the meaning, Amancio's team looked for connections and clusters of words. By measuring the frequency and intermittence of words, Amancio claimed to identify the text's keywords and produced three-dimensional models of the text's structure and word frequencies. The team concluded that in 90% of cases, the Voynich systems are similar to those of other known books, indicating that the text is in an actual language, not random gibberish. [64]

The use of the framework was exemplified with the analysis of the Voynich manuscript, with the final conclusion that it differs from a random sequence of words, being compatible with natural languages. Even though our approach is not aimed at deciphering Voynich, it was capable of providing keywords that could be helpful for decipherers in the future. [64]

Constructed language Edit

The peculiar internal structure of Voynich manuscript words led William F. Friedman to conjecture that the text could be a constructed language. In 1950, Friedman asked the British army officer John Tiltman to analyze a few pages of the text, but Tiltman did not share this conclusion. In a paper in 1967, Brigadier Tiltman said:

After reading my report, Mr. Friedman disclosed to me his belief that the basis of the script was a very primitive form of synthetic universal language such as was developed in the form of a philosophical classification of ideas by Bishop Wilkins in 1667 and Dalgarno a little later. It was clear that the productions of these two men were much too systematic, and anything of the kind would have been almost instantly recognisable. My analysis seemed to me to reveal a cumbersome mixture of different kinds of substitution. [4]

The concept of a constructed language is quite old, as attested by John Wilkins's Philosophical Language (1668), but still postdates the generally accepted origin of the Voynich manuscript by two centuries. In most known examples, categories are subdivided by adding suffixes (fusional languages) as a consequence, a text in a particular subject would have many words with similar prefixes—for example, all plant names would begin with similar letters, and likewise for all diseases, etc. This feature could then explain the repetitious nature of the Voynich text. However, no one has been able yet to assign a plausible meaning to any prefix or suffix in the Voynich manuscript. [5]

Hoax Edit

The unusual features of the Voynich manuscript text, such as the doubled and tripled words, and the suspicious [ clarification needed ] contents of its illustrations support the idea that the manuscript is a hoax. In other words, if no one is able to extract meaning from the book, then perhaps this is because the document contains no meaningful content in the first place. Various hoax theories have been proposed over time.

In 2003, computer scientist Gordon Rugg showed that text with characteristics similar to the Voynich manuscript could have been produced using a table of word prefixes, stems, and suffixes, which would have been selected and combined by means of a perforated paper overlay. [76] [77] The latter device, known as a Cardan grille, was invented around 1550 as an encryption tool, more than 100 years after the estimated creation date of the Voynich manuscript. Some maintain that the similarity between the pseudo-texts generated in Gordon Rugg's experiments and the Voynich manuscript is superficial, and the grille method could be used to emulate any language to a certain degree. [78]

In April 2007, a study by Austrian researcher Andreas Schinner published in Cryptologia supported the hoax hypothesis. [18] Schinner showed that the statistical properties of the manuscript's text were more consistent with meaningless gibberish produced using a quasi-stochastic method, such as the one described by Rugg, than with Latin and medieval German texts. [18]

Some scholars have claimed that the manuscript's text appears too sophisticated to be a hoax. In 2013 Marcelo Montemurro, a theoretical physicist from the University of Manchester, published findings claiming that semantic networks exist in the text of the manuscript, such as content-bearing words occurring in a clustered pattern, or new words being used when there was a shift in topic. [79] With this evidence, he believes it unlikely that these features were intentionally "incorporated" into the text to make a hoax more realistic, as most of the required academic knowledge of these structures did not exist at the time the Voynich manuscript would have been written. [80]

In September 2016, Gordon Rugg and Gavin Taylor addressed these objections in another article in Cryptologia, and illustrated a simple hoax method that they claim could have caused the mathematical properties of the text. [81]

In 2019 Torsten Timm and Andreas Schinner published an algorithm that could have been used by a Medieval author to generate meaningless text which matches the statistical characteristics of the Voynich Manuscript. [82]

Glossolalia Edit

In their 2004 book, Gerry Kennedy and Rob Churchill suggest the possibility that the Voynich manuscript may be a case of glossolalia (speaking-in-tongues), channeling, or outsider art. [15] If so, the author felt compelled to write large amounts of text in a manner which resembles stream of consciousness, either because of voices heard or because of an urge. This often takes place in an invented language in glossolalia, usually made up of fragments of the author's own language, although invented scripts for this purpose are rare.

Kennedy and Churchill use Hildegard von Bingen's works to point out similarities between the Voynich manuscript and the illustrations that she drew when she was suffering from severe bouts of migraine, which can induce a trance-like state prone to glossolalia. Prominent features found in both are abundant "streams of stars", and the repetitive nature of the "nymphs" in the balneological section. [83] This theory has been found unlikely by other researchers. [84]

The theory is virtually impossible to prove or disprove, short of deciphering the text. Kennedy and Churchill are themselves not convinced of the hypothesis, but consider it plausible. In the culminating chapter of their work, Kennedy states his belief that it is a hoax or forgery. Churchill acknowledges the possibility that the manuscript is either a synthetic forgotten language (as advanced by Friedman), or else a forgery, as the preeminent theory. However, he concludes that, if the manuscript is a genuine creation, mental illness or delusion seems to have affected the author. [15]

Since the manuscript's modern rediscovery in 1912, there have been a number of claimed decipherings.

William Romaine Newbold Edit

One of the earliest efforts to unlock the book's secrets (and the first of many premature claims of decipherment) was made in 1921 by William Romaine Newbold of the University of Pennsylvania. [ citation needed ] His singular hypothesis held that the visible text is meaningless itself, but that each apparent "letter" is in fact constructed of a series of tiny markings discernible only under magnification. [ citation needed ] These markings were supposed to be based on ancient Greek shorthand, forming a second level of script that held the real content of the writing. [ citation needed ] Newbold claimed to have used this knowledge to work out entire paragraphs proving the authorship of Bacon and recording his use of a compound microscope four hundred years before van Leeuwenhoek. [ citation needed ] A circular drawing in the astronomical section depicts an irregularly shaped object with four curved arms, which Newbold interpreted as a picture of a galaxy, which could be obtained only with a telescope. [4] Similarly, he interpreted other drawings as cells seen through a microscope. [ citation needed ]

However, Newbold's analysis has since been dismissed as overly speculative [85] after John Matthews Manly of the University of Chicago pointed out serious flaws in his theory. Each shorthand character was assumed to have multiple interpretations, with no reliable way to determine which was intended for any given case. Newbold's method also required rearranging letters at will until intelligible Latin was produced. These factors alone ensure the system enough flexibility that nearly anything at all could be discerned from the microscopic markings. Although evidence of micrography using the Hebrew language can be traced as far back as the ninth century, it is nowhere near as compact or complex as the shapes Newbold made out. Close study of the manuscript revealed the markings to be artefacts caused by the way ink cracks as it dries on rough vellum. Perceiving significance in these artefacts can be attributed to pareidolia. Thanks to Manly's thorough refutation, the micrography theory is now generally disregarded. [86]

Joseph Martin Feely Edit

In 1943, Joseph Martin Feely published Roger Bacon's Cipher: The Right Key Found, in which he claimed that the book was a scientific diary written by Roger Bacon. Feely's method posited that the text was a highly abbreviated medieval Latin written in a simple substitution cipher. [17]

Leonell C. Strong Edit

Leonell C. Strong, a cancer research scientist and amateur cryptographer, believed that the solution to the Voynich manuscript was a "peculiar double system of arithmetical progressions of a multiple alphabet". Strong claimed that the plaintext revealed the Voynich manuscript to be written by the 16th-century English author Anthony Ascham, whose works include A Little Herbal, published in 1550. Notes released after his death reveal that the last stages of his analysis, in which he selected words to combine into phrases, were questionably subjective. [55] ( p 252 )

Robert S. Brumbaugh Edit

In 1978, Robert Brumbaugh, a professor of medieval philosophy at Yale University, claimed that the manuscript was a forgery intended to fool Emperor Rudolf II into purchasing it, and that the text is Latin enciphered with a complex, two-step method. [17]

John Stojko Edit

In 1978, John Stojko published Letters to God's Eye, [87] in which he claimed that the Voynich Manuscript was a series of letters written in vowelless Ukrainian. [54] The theory caused some sensation among the Ukrainian diaspora at the time, and then in independent Ukraine after 1991. [88] However, the date Stojko gives for the letters, the lack of relation between the text and the images, and the general looseness in the method of decryption have all been criticised. [54]

Stephen Bax Edit

In 2014, applied linguistics Professor Stephen Bax self-published a paper claiming to have translated ten words from the manuscript using techniques similar to those used to successfully translate Egyptian hieroglyphs. [89] He claimed the manuscript to be a treatise on nature, in a Near Eastern or Asian language, but no full translation was made before Bax's death in 2017. [90]

Nicholas Gibbs Edit

In September 2017, television writer Nicholas Gibbs claimed to have decoded the manuscript as idiosyncratically abbreviated Latin. [91] He declared the manuscript to be a mostly plagiarized guide to women's health.

Scholars judged Gibbs' hypothesis to be trite. His work was criticized as patching together already-existing scholarship with a highly speculative and incorrect translation Lisa Fagin Davis, director of the Medieval Academy of America, stated that Gibbs' decipherment "doesn't result in Latin that makes sense." [92] [93]

Greg Kondrak Edit

Greg Kondrak, a professor of natural language processing at the University of Alberta, together with his graduate student Bradley Hauer, used computational linguistics in an attempt to decode the manuscript. [94] Their findings were presented at the Annual Meeting of the Association for Computational Linguistics in 2017, in the form of an article suggesting that the language of the manuscript is most likely Hebrew, but encoded using alphagrams, i.e. alphabetically ordered anagrams. However, the team admitted that experts in medieval manuscripts who reviewed the work were not convinced. [95] [96] [97] The claim was disputed on Hebrew language grounds. [98] [ unreliable source? ]

Ahmet Ardıç Edit

In 2018, Ahmet Ardıç, an electrical engineer with an interest in Turkic languages, claimed in a YouTube video that the Voynich script is a kind of Old Turkic written in a 'poetic' style. [99] The text would then be written using 'phonemic orthography', meaning the author spelled out words as they heard them. Ardıç claimed to have deciphered and translated over 30% of the manuscript. [100] [101] His submission to the journal Digital Philology was rejected in 2019. [102]

Gerard Cheshire Edit

A large illustration in the manuscript is highly suggestive of a volcano eruption on an island [103] , and in the 15th century (derived from the radiocarbon dating of the manuscript), only the Vulcanello volcano(near Ischia, Italy) is known to have erupted (in 1444) on an island in continental Europe and the Mediterranean [104] . Based on this link Cheshire hypothesized in 2018 [105] that the eyewitness character of the drawing allows localizing the origin of the manuscript in space and time to the nearby island of Ischia. In 1444, the island was in possession of Alfonso V of Aragon, King of Aragon and King of Naples, and was the location where part of his female entourage (see Lucrezia d'Alagno) resided in a castel [106] . Vulcanello is also near Sicily, that was also governed by the Aragonese at that time [107] , offering a potential alternative location to Ischia.

In 2019, the journal Romance Studies published a paper by Gerard Cheshire titled "The language and writing system of MS 408 (Voynich) explained". [108] Cheshire, a biology research assistant at the University of Bristol, claimed to have deciphered the manuscript in two weeks using a combination of "lateral thinking and ingenuity." [109] [110] He suggested that the manuscript is "a compendium of information on herbal remedies, therapeutic bathing and astrological readings", with a focus on female physical and mental health, reproduction, and parenting and that the manuscript is the only known text written in proto-Romance. [111] He said: "The manuscript was compiled by Dominican nuns as a source of reference for Maria of Castile, Queen of Aragon." [112] However, experts in medieval documents disputed this interpretation vigorously, [113] with the executive editor of Medieval Academy of America Lisa Fagin Davis denouncing the paper as "just more aspirational, circular, self-fulfilling nonsense". [111] Approached for comment by Ars Technica, Davis gave this explanation:

As with most would-be Voynich interpreters, the logic of this proposal is circular and aspirational: he starts with a theory about what a particular series of glyphs might mean, usually because of the word's proximity to an image that he believes he can interpret. He then investigates any number of medieval Romance-language dictionaries until he finds a word that seems to suit his theory. Then he argues that because he has found a Romance-language word that fits his hypothesis, his hypothesis must be right. His "translations" from what is essentially gibberish, an amalgam of multiple languages, are themselves aspirational rather than being actual translations. — L. Fagin Davis (2019) [113]

The University of Bristol subsequently removed a reference to Cheshire's claims from its website, [114] referring in a statement to concerns about the validity of the research, and stating: "This research was entirely the author's own work and is not affiliated with the University of Bristol, the School of Arts nor the Centre for Medieval Studies". [115] [116]

As Alfonso and his army originated from Iberia and he was the one who replaced Latin by the local dialect as official language in nearby Naples in 1442 [117] , and as dialects of the southern italian peninsula are an amalgam of languages of the entire mediterranean area [118] , finding linguistic influences from a broad geographic area in a manuscript from the proposed time and place [119] would not be unexpected.

As of 22 June 2020, Cheshire has published his translations of 10 pages of the roughly 100 pages that seem to be about medicinal plants. [120] [121] [122] [123]

Many books and articles have been written about the manuscript. Copies of the manuscript pages were made by alchemist Georgius Barschius in 1637 and sent to Athanasius Kircher, and later by Wilfrid Voynich. [124]

In 2004, the Beinecke Rare Book and Manuscript Library made high-resolution digital scans publicly available online, and several printed facsimiles appeared. In 2016, the Beinecke Library and Yale University Press co-published a facsimile, The Voynich Manuscript, with scholarly essays. [125]

The Beinecke Library also authorized the production of a print run of 898 replicas by the Spanish publisher Siloé in 2017. [126] [127]

The manuscript has also inspired several works of fiction, including the following

Author(s) Year Title
Colin Wilson 1974 The Return of the Lloigor
Leena Krohn 2001
Datura tai harha jonka jokainen näkee
(Eng: Datura: or, A Delusion We All See)
Lev Grossman 2004 Codex
Scarlett Thomas 2004 PopCo
Michael Cordy 2008 The Source
Alex Scarrow 2011 Time Riders: The Doomsday Code
Jonathan Maberry 2012 Assassin's Code
Linda Sue Park 2012 The 39 Clues – Cahills vs. Vespers, book 5: Trust No One
Robin Wasserman 2012 The Book of Blood and Shadow
Jeremy Robinson
& Sean Ellis
2013 Prime
Dominic Selwood 2013 The Sword of Moses
Deborah Harkness 2014 The Book of Life

The "voynix", biomechanical creatures from an alternate future which transition from servitors to opponents in Dan Simmons' paired novels Ilium/Olympos, are named in reference to the manuscript. [ citation needed ]

Between 1976 and 1978, [128] Italian artist Luigi Serafini created the Codex Seraphinianus containing false writing and pictures of imaginary plants in a style reminiscent of the Voynich manuscript. [129] [130] [131]

Contemporary classical composer Hanspeter Kyburz's 1995 chamber work The Voynich Cipher Manuscript, for chorus & ensemble is inspired by the manuscript. [132]

In 2015, the New Haven Symphony Orchestra commissioned Hannah Lash to compose a symphony inspired by the manuscript. [133]

The novel Solenoid (2015), by Romanian writer Mircea Cartarescu uses the manuscript as literary device in one of its important themes. [134] [135]

In the third season episode of the CBS crime drama Elementary titled "Under My Skin", the character of Sherlock Holmes studies the Voynich manuscript, stating that he disbelieves theories that the manuscript is extraterrestrial in origin.

Images from the manuscript appear in multiple locations in The Witcher 3: Wild Hunt – Blood and Wine. [ citation needed ]

The Voynich Manuscript also appears in the games Assassin's Creed IV Black Flag and Assassin's Creed Rogue and is cited as having been stolen from a man named Peter Beckford.

Saturn’s Bizarre Hexagon

Located on the north pole of Saturn, a cloud in the shape of a hexagon defies a scientific explanation for its formation. The massive hexagon was first discovered in 1981, and it has remained a giant question mark since then.

With sides 9,000 miles long, the hexagon is longer than Earth's diameter. Another weird thing? The hexagon changed colors between 2012 and 2016. It went from a blue color to a gold color. Why? It’s a total mystery. Scientists don’t have a clue.

Mystery of Rare Genetic Bone Disease may be Solved by Ancient Irish Skeletons

Medical experts may be able to solve the mystery behind a rare bone disease after two ancient skeletons with the genetic bone disease were unearthed from a medieval Irish graveyard.

The two skeletons - one around 800-years-old and the other 1,100-years-old - dug up along with the remains of more than 1,000 men, women and children from the Ballyhanna graveyard site at Ballyshannon, Co Donegal, have attracted the attention of international medical researchers.

There have only been 16 cases of the hereditary bone growth disorder, now known as multiple osteochondromas, identified in ancient remains worldwide.

Dr Eileen Murphy, an archaeology lecturer at Queen's University Belfast, believes that the discovery of the remains - afflicted by massive bone growths - could help modern-day clinicians glean more information about that unusual debilitating condition.

According to Dr Murphy, the two cases could "help inform clinicians" in understanding the disease.

"I think it is good for clinicians to look at how diseases change and the way they turn up in the body over time. Some of the Jericho cases (dating from the Middle Bronze Age) are very old and can show if it has progressed in any way or mutated," said Dr Murphy, who is writing a paper on the two cases.

A sample of the 800-year-old remains from Skeleton 331 known as 'Ballyhanna Man' was sent to a genetics unit in Italy for further examination.

"We took a sample of the bone to send off to genetics units but the DNA in the bone was too degraded," Dr Murphy explained.

However, the research team holds hopes that in the future, a specialized laboratory may be able to extract DNA of sufficient quality for analysis to provide clues as to the evolution of the disease, which is estimated to affect one in 50,000 people.

Researchers from the Institute of Technology in Sligo and Queen's University Belfast are collaborating on the Ballyhanna project.

The 800-year-old remains of the worst-affected man, who died aged between 25 to 35 years old, showed he would have been physically disabled due to massive bony projections.

It is likely that he would have suffered from pain and have been recognized by others as having a physically debilitating condition from a young age.

The remains of the other man, who died a few hundred years earlier aged around 35-50 years, had less prominent growths.

In both cases, they were interred in the community graveyard, suggesting they were not shunned and treated as equals.

6 Green Magic For Children

Egyptians took colors seriously and assigned meaning and qualities to each one. Researchers knew that green represented growth, crops, and health. It was important enough to be placed as a scarab carving near a mummy&rsquos heart.

But nobody had an inkling why green also featured prominently when it came to Egyptian children. According to ancient records and hieroglyphics, youngsters even wore green makeup. [5]

A recent discovery suggests that Egyptian parents believed that the shade would protect their offspring. While examining a child mummy, a bag was found on the body. Poking through the bag&rsquos leather was a bright green amulet. Oddly, the stone was chrysocolla.

When the child died 4,700 years ago, Egypt was forming its early history and malachite was the most available green mineral. Chrysocolla was a rare commodity available only in the Sinai and the Eastern Egyptian Desert.

A previous grave find, a chrysocolla statuette depicting a youngster, supports the theory that the mineral (like the color green) &ldquobelonged&rdquo to children. Several experts agree that the amulet found on the toddler, who died of malaria, was probably meant to provide health and safety in the afterlife.

4 Mokomokai

In Maori culture, the collective term for preserved, tattooed heads is &ldquomokomokai.&rdquo Making these grisly war trophies is time consuming. First, the head is severed and then filled with flax fiber and gum. Next, it is boiled, before smoking over a fire. Once the head is dried in the Sun for a few days, it is finished with a shark oil rub.

Mokomaki are covered in moko&mdashancient Maori tattoos. Generally, only men wore these high-status markings. The art is produced by carving flesh with a chisel-like tool known as an &ldquouhi&rdquo and filling in the slices with ink. These were extremely painful and served as a mark of courage and adulthood. One of the most famous mokomai is Toi Moko, which along with 800 similar heads was traded to the British for guns and goods. Toi Moko made it to the Guernsey Museum before returning to New Zealand.

A Lifelong Childhood

Prosek is 38 this year, married, a Yale graduate, and lives two doors down from his childhood home. In a renovated barn that functions like a boy’s tree house, he spends hours alone, painting and sculpting.

Fishes and birds are his main interest—he has created silhouetted panoramas of birds, vivid, gigantic portraits of ocean fish, Japanese-inspired ink stampings using dead eels given to him by a friend who owns a bait shop. Most of his books and articles, center on fish ecology, fishing, and his deep affinity for all things fishy.

You could say he’s never grown up, if you define growing up as sacrificing the endless playtime of childhood for a structured nine-to-five.

“Making things makes me happy,” he said. “What I do now is not that different from what I did as a kid. I followed my interests and have been lucky to see them change and evolve. … The only difference is that now I’m reflecting on what I do and why.”

“I didn’t become critical of my own process until around the age of 28. What is this strange phenomenon biophilia? Why do humans take to things in nature at all?”

Unlike many self-professed nature lovers who enthuse from the comfort of an armchair, Prosek’s passion for the natural world is lived.

His father, who hails from Brazil and loved the lonely seas, was the source of his first outdoor education. He drove a “busload” of local kids every week to a salt marsh from the time James was 6.

The year he turned 9 was the year his mother left the family suddenly. Around the same time he was introduced to fishing and found solace in the activity.

Then a pivotal moment came at the age of 14, when a park ranger caught Prosek fishing illegally in a drinking water reservoir.

“Joe [Haines], the guy who caught me, became my mentor,” Prosek said. Prosek has written about this relationship in his book “Joe and Me.” (Harper Collins 1997)

“He introduced me to ice fishing, foraging, hunting pheasants. He is very experienced in his local environment. Since then I’ve been attracted to people with strong local knowledge. … There’s a magic to these people.”

What's the Secret Behind the Number 666?

Would you buy a used car with a license plate ending in 666? Or take a job at an office tower in New York City with the address 666 Fifth Avenue? After all, 666 is the infamous "number of the beast," allegedly Satan's secret code for evil.

In the biblical apocalyptic book of Revelation 13:18, it reads, "Here is wisdom. Let him who has understanding calculate the number of the beast, for the number is that of a man and his number is 666."

From that passage, it sure sounds like 666 is Lucifer's lucky number. But when you dig deeper into the Bible and its historical context, there's evidence that the author of Revelation was using numbers to send his early Christian readers a coded message.

When Letters Are Also Numbers

"The beast" was a reference to an evil-looking creature that the author of Revelation saw rising out of the earth in a vision (Revelation 13:11-18). This creature could perform miraculous things, would demand that everyone be "marked" with its name or number in order to buy and sell anything and would also kill those who did not worship it. So, who was this? Over the centuries, people have wondered whether this beast referred to someone who has come and gone, was yet to come or to no person in particular.

The book of Revelation was written in Greek, the language of the Christian world in the first and second century C.E. There were no numbers in Greek, at least not the numbers that we'd recognize today. (Our so-called "Arabic numerals" — 0, 1, 2, 3, etc. — were developed centuries later.) Instead, each letter of the Greek (and Hebrew) alphabet had a numeric value. For example:

For the Greek-speaking Christians reading Revelation, they would have been very comfortable reading letters as numbers. That's how numbers were displayed in the market or in legal documents. They also would have been comfortable turning numbers back into letters thanks to a practice called isopsephy.

Word Games With Numbers

Isopsephy, in Greek, means "equal in numeric value," and was a popular way of playing with words in the first century. The trick was to add up the numeric value of one word and then find a second word or phrase that added up to the same number. Words that were numerically equal were thought to have a special connection.

One of the best-known first-century isopsephies was referenced by the Roman historian Seutonius. "A calculation new: Nero his mother slew." In this case, the emperor's name "Nero" equals 1,005, the same value of the phrase "his mother slew." For Romans who suspected that the ruthless emperor had murdered his mother, this isopsephy was the proof.

Archaeologists have even discovered ancient Roman graffiti that substituted numbers for names, says Thomas Wayment, a classics professor at Brigham Young University.

"There's graffiti at Smyrna and Pompeii that says, 'I love her whose number is 1,308,'" says Wayment. "That's pretty common. And hopefully everybody did their math correctly and could make the connections."

'666' Was a Coded Message

Wayment and most other biblical scholars have no doubt that the author of Revelation intended 666 to be an isopsephy solved by his first-century readers.

"The author says, this is the number of a man, which is a classic isopsephy formula," says Wayment, who recently co-wrote an article on Revelation 13:18 and early Christian isopsephies. "Christians would have known right away, this is a coded message."

Revelation is famously cryptic and was meant to be that way, even to its original audience. Wayment says that in apocalyptic writings, an angel or other heavenly messenger often reveals their meaning through coded speech.

"As a reader, you're seeing something through the eyes of the visionary and he's telling you, 'you need to make sense of this,'" says Wayment. "That's part of your experience and participation in the vision."

According to most scholars, 666 was yet another coded reference to Nero, a "beastly" emperor who brutally persecuted early Christians in the Roman Empire.

To solve the isopsephy and equate Nero to 666, you need to use the full name "Caesar Nero" in Greek. If Caesar Nero is transliterated into Hebrew as nrwn qsr or "Neron Kesar" and then calculated, the numbers add up to 666. Interestingly, some early manuscripts of Revelation have the number written as 616 instead of 666. The common explanation is that "Caesar Nero" is written differently in Greek and Latin, another language spoken by early Christians. In the Latin version, the letters only add up to 616.

Other Readings of '666': Satan's Perfect Imperfection

Not all Bible scholars are convinced that 666 is simply an isopsephy. James M. Hamilton, a professor of biblical theology at the Southern Baptist Theological Seminary and author of "Revelation: The Spirit Speaks to the Churches," sees powerful symbolism in the repetition of the number 6.

In biblical symbolism, Hamilton says, the number seven represents "completeness" or "perfection." True completeness was only achieved by Jesus Christ, who saved the world through his perfect sacrifice. If Jesus had a symbolic number, it would be 777.

By assigning 666 to the "number of the beast," the author of Revelation is warning Christians to beware of Satan's "cheap imitation of Christ," says Hamilton. "That's the best Satan can do, one short of perfection."

For Hamilton, those "false Christs" raised up by Satan could take the form of a corrupt emperor like Nero or even modern cultural norms that are in rebellion against God.

"If participating in that culture entails worshiping false gods or denying something that the Bible teaches, Christians need to say, 'I'm not going to take the number or name of the beast,'" says Hamilton.

Third-century Christians picked up the habit of signing letters with the number 99, the numeric value of "amen."