Are you a male Caucasian, 51-60, living near upstate NY, and interested in a non-speaking, “wizard-esk” (I guess “-esque”) acting role in a vaguely Voynich Manuscript-related film to be filmed 15th-25th October 2009?

Well… Phill Allison, a directing major at the NYC school of visual arts, is holding “auditions / meetings” in Valatie on 8th-11th October 2009 for this role, so feel free to step forward: his short film (for his thesis) is called “The Voynich Manuscript Project”, and is “the story of two brothers who live with their father in a strange reality on the cusp of religious transformation“, and who “discover a mysterious manuscript in the woods“.

Hmmm… male, Caucasian, 51-60, doesn’t speak much, interested in a mysterious manuscript, perpetually on the cusp of finding something amazing / enlightenment… sounds like a pretty good e-fit for plenty of the Voynich researchers out there. Or have I just given the punchline away? :-p

Here’s something a little bit more interactive than usual, please feel free to add your comments. 🙂

I woke up this morning in a Voynich Manuscript half-dream with the chorus of Belinda Carlisle’s 1988 hit “I Get Weak” (written by Diane Warren) looping round incessantly. As with most dreams it probably meant nothing (sorry Sigmund), but it did set me thinking… what would be the perfect soundtrack to the VMs?

Hmmm… with my songwriter hat on, I’d say it would have to be something evocative and uncertain, and possibly with some kind of cryptological / biological / astrological / nymph-ological theme running through it. Here are some suggestions to be going on with…

Rationalist theorists:-
Thomas Dolby – She Blinded Me With Science (“…and failed me in biology, yeah-eh“) 

Madman theorists:-
Talking Heads – Psycho Killer (“I’m tense and nervous and I can’t relax“)

Romantic theorists:-
Robbie Williams – Angels (the most popular karaoke song ever, according to the PRS, and popular at weddings and funerals too). [Incidentally, this was originally written not by Williams and Guy Chambers but by Irishman Ray Hefferman, and was about his daughter who died at birth.]

OK, so it’s a pretty lame first attempt. But what would be on your perfect Voynich Manuscript soundtrack? Please comment below! 🙂

According to a nice little 2004 New Scientist article by Kevin Jones (Professor of Music at Kingston University, my most recent alma mater), even though Elgar composed his cipher note to Dora Penny in 1897, he appears to have reused the same 24-token cipher alphabet in an exercise book 30 years later. (Kevin Jones doesn’t mention in which collection the exercise book is to be found: there’s a nice listing of Elgar’s notes and immense collection of letters here.)

As with the majority of self-conceived ciphers, it was born of a simple idea:-

[Elgar] listed the symbols used in the Dorabella cipher matched against the letters of the alphabet. The cipher follows a simple pattern, with single, double and triple E-like characters, each in eight possible orientations – upright, rotated 45 degrees clockwise, 90 degrees clockwise and so on. This gives a total of 24 potential characters, and as with many ciphers, I and J share a single character, as do U and V.

Elgar then tries it out on some samples, which when deciphered read:-

M-A-R-C-O E-L-G-A-R (Marco was his pet spaniel) and A V-E-R-Y O-L-D C-Y-P-H-E-R. But when applied to the Dorabella cipher this key does not generate anything that makes obvious sense.

It certainly was “a very old cypher” (probably 30+ years old at that stage). But there’s something a bit back-to-front about this whole thing. If he was reusing an old cipher, why would he be going through the palaver of trying it out again? He would surely have gone through his experimenting phase decades before? But according to Kevin Jones’ subsequent notes to the 2007 BBC Proms:-

Elgar scribbled an 18 character code using the same cipher symbols in the column of printed programme notes for a concert he attended at Crystal Palace in April 1886 – opposite a musical example from Liszt’s “Les Preludes”. (Copy at the Elgar Birthplace Museum.) Annotations on other pages are not ciphered – so it’s possible that this may have been added at a later date.

And so even though this was used as a cipher circa 1886 (probably), and post 1927 (probably), was it also one circa 1897? All these scraps muddy the water once again – which is perhaps what Elgar was hoping to achieve. I just wish we knew what Dora Penny’s favourite song was…

Interestingly, one of the comments to this page was by Peter Brooks, who said he was “increasingly confident that the message consists of two parts separated by an evident period on the last line”, with a first apart in Latin and the second in some kind of vertically arranged English. Personally, I’m not sure how that would be any less obscure than the solution proposed by Eric Sams discussed here recently: but I’m sure Peter Brooks has plenty of sensible reasons to back his notion up.

Following on from the Proms post, “The Elgar Apostle” (“the Elgar on-line newspaper”) held a Dorabella cipher competition, which “seven individuals were brave enough to submit entries”.

The final Dorabella bombshell of the day comes from Peter Brooks, who noted (in his comment) that “there is a moderated Yahoo group Elgar-Cipher“. If you want to find out more about the Dorabella Cipher, this is surely the first place you’d want to head towards.

Incidentally, the “enigma” of the 1899 “Enigma Variations” was Elgar’s claim that they all played in counterpoint to a well-known melody (which he never disclosed, and which has never been worked out) – might the Dorabella Cipher be enciphering this tune, too? (The timing would be basically right.)

PPS: the German WWII Enigma machine was (apparently) specifically named after the Enigma Variations: yet another non-obvious connection between music and cryptography…

…or, in all its prolixitous glory, “The Six Unsolved Ciphers: Inside the Mysterious Codes That Have Confounded the World’s Greatest Cryptographers“, by Richard Belfield (2007). It was previously published by Orion in the UK as “Can You Crack the Enigma Code?” in 2006.

You’d have thought I’d be delighted by this offering: after all, it covers the Voynich Manuscript, the Beale Papers, Elgar’s “Dorabella” cipher, the CIA’s Kryptos sculpture, the Shepherd’s Monument at Shugborough, and the “Zodiac Killer” ciphers, all things that a Cipher Mysteries blogger ought to get excited about. But there was something oddly disconsonant about it all for me: and working out quite why proved quite difficult…

For a start, if I were compiling a top six list of uncracked historical ciphers, only the Voynich Manuscript and the Beale Papers would have made the cut from Belfield’s set – I don’t think anyone out there could (unless they happened to have cracked either of the two) sensibly nitpick about these being included.

Yet as far the other four go, it’s not nearly so clear. I’ve always thought that the Dorabella cipher was a minor jeu d’esprit on Elgar’s part in a note to a dear friend, and most likely to be something like an enciphered tune. The Kryptos sculpture was intended to bamboozle the CIA and NSA’s crypto squads: and though it relies on classical cryptographic techniques, there’s something a bit too self-consciously knowing about it (its appropriation by The Da Vinci Code cover doesn’t help in this regard). And while the Shugborough Shepherd’s Monument (Belfield’s best chapter by far) indeed has hidden writing, placing its ten brief letters into the category of cipher or code is perhaps a bit strong.

Finally: the Zodiac Killer ciphers, which I know have occupied my old friend Glen Claston in the past, forms just about the only borderline case: its place in the top six is arguable (and it has a good procedural police yarn accompanying it), so I’d kind of grudgingly accept that (at gunpoint, if you will). Regardless, I’d still want to place the Codex Seraphinianus above it, for example.

Belfield’s book reminds me a lot of Kennedy & Churchill’s book on the Voynich Manuscript: even though it is a good, solid, journalistic take on some intriguing cipher stories, I’m not convinced by the choice of the six, and in only one (the Shugborough Shepherd’s Monument) do I think Belfield really gets under the skin of the subject matter. While he musters a lot of interest in the whole subject, it rarely amounts to what you might call passion: and that is really what this kind of mystery-themed book needs to enliven its basically dry subject matter.

It’s hard to fault it as an introduction to six interesting unbroken historical codes and ciphers (it does indeed cover exactly what it says on the tin), and perhaps I’m unfair to judge it against the kind of quality bar I try to apply to my own writing: but try as I may, I can’t quite bring myself to recommend it over (for example) Simon Singh’s “The Code Book” (for all its faults!) as a readable introduction to historical cryptography.

PS: my personal “top six” unsolved historical codes/ciphers would be:-

  1. The Voynich Manuscript (the granddaddy of them all)
  2. The Beale Papers (might be a fake, but it’s a great story)
  3. The Rohonc Codex (too little known, but a fascinating object all the same)
  4. John Dee’s “Enochian” texts (in fact, everything written by John Dee)
  5. William Shakespeare’s work (there’s a massive literature on this, why ignore it?)
  6. Bellaso’s ciphers (but more on this in a later post…)

Feel free to agree or disagree! 😉

No, it’s not another Voynich Manuscript novel for the Big Fat List, but instead the working title (according to a blog entry here) for a track by 1980s German Synthpop funsters Alphaville in an upcoming album.

And no, much as I enjoyed “Big In Japan” I don’t quite think that really counts as a huge lurch into the mainstream. Until you start to see Barbie Voynich-decoder love rings (“olal” = “I fancy him“, “qoky” = “after school“, etc), or perhaps “The Voynich Manuscript According To Clarkson” in hardback in Asda, it’s going to stay a pretty much marginal thing. But could that ever happen? Well…

Having just driven a Murcialago through the sides of three caravans on fire, the producers of Top Gear set me my toughest challenge yet – deciphering the Voynich Manuscript. With my judgment still clouded by that incredible adrenaline high, I rather foolishly accepted…

 

 

 

If you haven’t seen Luigi Serafini’s Codex Seraphinianus before, I heartily recommend stomping over to this 230-photo Flickr set and checking it out.

It’s now reasonably well-known that the book’s strange page-numbering system has been cracked (it’s a funny kind of base-21 counting, with various unlucky numbers removed), but the text itself remains enigmatic. Ivan Derzhanski has posted some observations here, but I think it’s fair to say nobody yet has the foggiest idea how to go about trying to read it. Oh well!

Incidentally, there’s even a ballet based on it!

Many people reading this probably will already have vageuly heard of contemporary Swiss composer Hanspeter Kyburz (b.1960) and his orchestral work “The Voynich Cipher Manuscript“, which was inspired by the VMs. Not a lot of people know (or care) that Kyburz also inserted in the work three short poems by maverick Futurist genius Velimir Khlebnikov, I’d guess because of Chlebnikov’s “super-tale” Zangezi, which was partly written in an invented language of the birds: but now you know as well.

But now other musicians (though admittedly of the rock ilk) are starting to wake up to the smell of Voynich coffee. I mentioned one Californian band here not so long ago, but here are a few more to add to your Top Trumps collection of crossover Voynichiana.

So first off, a big hello to the FaceBook page of Mechatohm, a Californian band in the Alternative Rock Metal genre to add to your overworked networked music drive. Band member Zyclobonzaron (so Enochian!) is apparently influenced by “The Voynich Manuscript and shit like that…“, which is pretty much on the mark, can’t really complain. Just so you know, it’s VMs page f68v (the “sun-face” solar calendar page) that graces the band’s album cover (albeit Photoshopped halfway into next Tuesday).

And a grand welcome to a YouTube clip courtesy of The Phaser [Update: sorry! They’ve just removed it! Bah!]. I’m not entirely sure what the world has done to deserve a piece of music apparently played out on the Commodore 64’s VIC chip played into a reverb unit, but it must have been something good because I quite like it. Having said that, I’m not entirely sure I could listen to it more than a couple of times, but it might be a good thing to put into your iPod if you’re going for a 10-minute run. “Maybe you don’t appreciate my interpretation [..]. but I really don’t give a sheet“. Bless.

Finally, a great big ¡hola! goes out to “The Voynich“, a Spanish foursome mainly from Granada who formed at the end of 2007, playing rock/pop that is presumably as uncategorisable as the VMs itself. Here’s a link to their “Voynich Dossier” blog: I’m sure they’re lovely people.

Here’s another (and actually quite good) example of the Voynich meme eking its elliptical way into the collective cultural consciousness: courtesy of MySpace, a Californian duo in Hollister have put out a couple of tracks inspired by (and under the name of) the Voynich Manuscript. I’m actually a musician/composer myself, so I thought I’d review them here for you, in case you’re deaf or allergic to MP3s etc.

Their first track “Painted Lines of Perception” is a piece of electronica lightly daubed over a recording of ambient wind, with occasional urban-themed half-samples for colour. Voynichologically, I think the contrast between the wind (drawing?) and the music (paint?) does manage to evoke the kind of mismatched overpainting you get in the Herbal section, which came as a very pleasant surprise to me. It occasionally drifts into early 90s territory (slightly metally string pads), but it generally does its thing very nicely.

Having said that, their second track “Zodiacal Transmission” (a broadly similar ambient affair) doesn’t quite work as well. My guess is that the pinging synth motif in the middle section is supposed to evoke the stars in the Astro section, but I’m having to work fairly hard to get this registering on my Voynichometer. The guys have worked hard on the mix, and I really like the stereo imaging they achieved: but it’s not really as good as their “Painted Lines”.

Good luck to them!