And so up pops a delightful article by Eileen Reeves, who Cipher Mysteries regulars may remember as the author of “Galileo’s Glassworks: The Telescope and the Mirror”. Her paper, called “Of Language and the Lodestone”, covers a peculiarly Renaissance phenomenon: baptizing magnets with holy water and unholy words (nomina barbara, which Reeves summarizes as “foreign utterances whose force lay in sound rather than in semantic sense”) in order to induce a very human kind of magnetism – love.

To most people back then, magnets were occult objects imbued with an unknown power: and looking at perpetual energy machines/scams half a millennium later, nothing much seems to have changed since. By comparison, the Renaissance fringe notion that a quasi-religiously treated magnet could perform some kind of low-key sympathetic magic (conceptually not so very different from the rationalizations of astrologers throughout the ages) seems, dare I say it, almost reasonable.

Curiously, Jesuit mathematicians/astronomers circa 1610 believed that they could somehow use “the hidden force of the magnet” to communicate at a great distance, via the great magnet that is the earth – some would no doubt hear pre-echoes of Tesla there. These pairs of communicating magnets, too, were to be anointed and “baptized with cabalistic names”, just as love-magnets were. However, by 1640 our friend Athanasius Kircher was happy to denounce this “stupid little machine” as “stupid and absurd”, even though he claimed that an unknown kind of solar magnetism apparently powered his own heliotropic plant. Oh well!

Enjoy! 🙂

My copies of Eileen Reeves “Galileo’s Glassworks” and Matt Rubinstein’s “Vellum” have both arrived in the post: and so the inevitable book triage process sets in, whereby I work out which of the books I’m currently reading to put to one side to make time/space for the new arrivals.

Unfortunately, I’m so utterly captivated by Lynn Thorndike’s “History of Magic & Experimental Science” Vol III (covering the 14th century), I’ll probably have to finish that one first. Only a few hundred pages to go, then…

A Latin aside: I’ve been programming with a code library from 3Dlabs with a function that normally appears as “des.init()”. However, desinit is a proper Latin word meaning “it ceases”, and refers (as anyone who has read Thorndike will know) to the words at the end of manuscripts, just as incipit refers to the words at their start. What I didn’t know until this week was that there is also a nice saying from Horace desinit in piscem (or in full “desinit in piscem mulier formosa superne“), which refers to a statue that starts beautiful at the top but ends up as a ugly fish at the bottom (it even gets quoted in Asterix and the Secret Weapon) – a handy metaphor for things which seem to start out well but end up badly. Nothing at all to do with 3Dlabs, then.

On the subject of books, I recently found a reference on WorldCat to a a real (ie non-fiction) Voynich book I’d never heard of, written by VMs mailing list member Jim Comegys in 2001, and with the catchy title “Keys for the voynich scholar : necessary clues for the decipherment and reading of the world’s most mysterious manuscript which is a medical text in Nahuatl attributable to Francisco Hernández and his Aztec Ticiti collaborators.” I’ll see if I can get a copy from Jim (though I suspect he may not have properly published it per se).