I’ve just finished reading @MargalitFox’s excellent book “The Riddle of the Labyrinth“, which untangles the skein of history around the decryption of Linear B to reveal the quiet (but huge) contribution made by Alice Kober.

Fox’s belief (which I largely agree with) is that Kober would, had she not died early, almost certainly have completed her decryption programme before Michael Ventris. Regardless, Ventris had spent years making a fool of himself by insisting loudly and at great length that the language of Linear B must surely be Etruscan (it was actually an early form of Greek, Δ’Ω!), and he only began making swift progress once he took Kober’s results on board.

Because Linear B was an unknown language written in an unknown script, Kober always insisted that anyone who took a theory about the language as their starting point was doomed to failure. Rather, the single route to the finishing line was, she asserted, to find the patterns and deep symmetries inside the primary texts that we have, and to work outwards from there.

Kober’s attempts to systematically comb through the Linear B texts were frustrated through the 1930s and part of the 1940s by Sir Arthur Evans’ refusal to release more than a modest fraction of them. However, she built up card indexes and added physical cross-referencing means (using carefully punched holes, she was able to optically find matching patterns, like using postcards to build her own Google search facility for Linear B ).

It is easy to draw a long list of comparisons between her sustained attack on Linear B and The World’s somewhat scattershot attacks on Voynichese. Perhaps unsurprisingly, few of these cast the latter in anything like a favourable light.

Similarities

Both Sir Arthur Evans and the Voyniches had very fixed (and, in retrospect, quite wrong-headed) ideas about the historical sources of their respective scripts / languages: and both released only a small number of images to scholars before their respective deaths.

Hence the constraints Alice Kober was working within during the 1930s and 1940s weren’t really so different from those that Voynich researchers ‘enjoyed’ for most of the 20th century. Her specific response was to make her own transcriptions, build her own analytical machinery, and construct her own decryption methodology.

If you want a direct apples-to-apples comparison, I’d perhaps suggest looking for the methodological parallels between Kober and Captain Prescott Hunt Currier (1912-1995). They both consciously and deliberately attacked their targets without a specific plaintext language in mind; discovered deep language-like patterns that nobody had either noticed or grasped the significance of; and then disseminated them openly.

Differences

The #1 difference is that while Linear B had Michael Ventris, Voynichese has had no Gary Lineker or Filippo Inzaghi hanging around on the goal-line to head Captain Currier’s critical cross into the goal.

While it’s easy to say that Ventris was brilliant, in many ways his whole approach to Linear B had been naive and self-defeating from the start. Margalit Fox concludes that Kober thought Ventris was yet another hacky Linear B amateur, far more of a research liability than a research asset: that he was so blinded by his idiotic Etruscan theory that his research would never (in fact, could never) produce anything of genuine value.

But Ventris’ key personal asset turned out to be that he had, as the famous US entrepreneur/investor Fred Wilson put it back in 2016, strong views weakly held. That is, once Ventris finally twigged that Kober had found something genuinely telling that was incompatible with his (previously strongly held) Etruscan theory, he had the strength of character to be able to jump ship completely. (Though admittedly Ventris did strongly hedge his initial description of what he had come up with by describing it as something that might be no more than a wonderful delusion.)

For me, the oddest thing about Voynichese is that even though modern researchers now know a vast amount about its inner workings (for example, you could hardly fault Torsten Timm’s diligence and persistence), they remain steadfastly unable to figure out the next step forwards.

If you can imagine a Voynichese football hanging in the air in front of goal while all the strikers are squabbling at the opposite end of the playing field, you’re not far off the truth. 🙁

Synthesis

Even though many now know about Linear B, what is less known is the story of Linear A. Also discovered by Sir Arthur Evans, the Linear A script is almost certainly a syllabary that was used on Crete to write a (now-lost) Minoan language. When the early Greek invaders came from the Mycenean mainland, they adapted Linear A as a script to write down (admittedly somewhat imperfectly) their Early Greek language.

Alice Kober realized early on that despite the many visual similarities between their sign shapes, Linear A and Linear B were writing down entirely different languages. Hence she abandoned all attempts to decrypt Linear A (because there were so few examples of it) and focused instead on the much more promising Linear B.

In many ways, we have a closely analogous situation with Voynichese, in that it comprises the two major ‘languages’ that Captain Currier identified in the 1970s. More recent research has identified even more subtlety to Currier’s A vs B division: the researcher Glen Claston (Tim Rayhel) asserted that he had identified the specific sequence by which Currier A evolved (or was actively mutated) into Currier B.

Even now, however, it remains absolutely the norm for researchers – even otherwise very good researchers – to carry out their analyses on the whole of their Voynichese transcription, i.e. all the A pages and B pages merged together into a single whole, as if they were all the same kind of thing.

Perhaps it should be no surprise that, to me, this is akin to mixing Linear A and Linear B into a single Linear corpus, superficial amateurish nonsense that Kober had nothing but disdain for in the 1930s and 1940s.

Hence if you genuinely want to be the Michael Ventris of Voynichese, I would suggest that you start by trying to learn from Alice Kober and Captain Currier:

  • Assume you know nothing at all about the unknown language(s) beneath the unknown script (because you don’t, you simply don’t)
  • Tackle one corpus at a time (say, Herbal A, Quire 13, or Quire 20)
  • Build up what you consider to be a reliable transcription for it
  • Build up contact tables
  • Begin with the patterns at the start, middle, and end of words
  • Determine the precise internal logic of the script, with the idea of working out how that might be interfering with the unknown language beneath that script

On the one hand, I’ve spent years trying to reconstruct the “inner history” of the Voynich Manuscript: while on the other, I’ve spent the same period trying to deconstruct the subtle fault-lines in its cipher system. History and science: the ultimate epistemological pincer attack, if you will.

In that general vein, here’s a new research angle on the Voynich Manuscript’s cipher to think about, that’s supported on both sides by very specific art historical reasoning and statistical reasoning.

Firstly, the art history. Quite independently of the question of authorship, I recently argued (in my post on Voynich Q13) that Q13b (baths) is to Q13a (something disguised as baths) as Herbal-A (agriculture) is to Herbal-B (something disguised as agriculture). This same relationship may well hold true for the ‘pharmacological’ pages, in that Q19 pharma (visual recipes) may bear the same relation to some or all of Q15 pharma (something disguised as visual recipes).

I have also argued on codicological grounds that the patterns resembling aiiv and aiir we see densely scattered throughout the VMs were intended to resemble medieval folio references, while concealing some other information (probably Arabic numbers). My hypothesis is that this steganography was initially achieved (early in the Currier-A phase) by placing dots over the various aiiv instances, but that the author then decided this was too obvious and so went through the text adding scribal flourishes connecting the right-hand edge of the v-shape to the flying dot. However, by the time of the Currier-B phase, the same aiiv pattern was used as a covertext, but a different kind of steganography was used for the concealed text – here, the overall shape of the final “v” letter seems to have been used as the enciphering mechanism. What I like about this is that it should be able to be tested by a careful spectroscopic scan of the aiiv instances. I suspect that it will be amazing how much you can tell from the evolution of a single pattern across the VMs’ pages.

Put all this together, and what I think emerges is a picture of a cipher system that is evolving across multiple phases – the Currier-A dot phase, perhaps a Currier-A pure loop phase, a Currier-B v-shape phase. Glen Claston has his own ideas on the evolution and gestation of the pages (along broadly similar lines), so this isn’t really massive news on its own.

Secondly, the statistics. Since Prescott Currier proposed his two-language (Currier A and Currier B) model in 1976, it is sadly true that far more people have picked up on what this “split” might imply than have tried to actually statistically analyze it in a deeper way. What are those differences, though?

  • -dy: rare in A, very common in B
  • chol-, chor-, and chot-: very common in A, rare in B
  • cth-: common in A, rare in B
  • chain, chaiin:  medium frequency in A, rare in B

To which I would add that qol- occurs 20x more often in B than in A, and that if you remove all ol and al pairs, the remaining freestanding ls occur 8x more often in B than in A.

All of which leads to this basic observation: currently, I think that the very best explanation of why the ‘formation rules’ of Currier B differ from the formation rules of Currier A is that I believe that the Voynich’s author evolved the system from A to B not to accommodate another language or dialect, but rather to hide perceived weaknesses in the Currier A cipher system.

This then suggests a new cryptological research angle: if we can statistically identify what specific patterns were removed from Currier A during the transition to Currier B (and perhaps even identify matching patterns that were added to Currier B), then we might, with a little luck, start to work out why the author thought they were weaknesses in the cipher system.

As an example, could it be that many of the instances of ch (or, more likely, cho)in Currier A reappear as freestanding l in Currier B? If so, why did the author evolve Voynichese in this way? Was he hiding a weakness in the cipher system? Did the author judge that the first phase’s cho was unnecessarily verbose, and so came to replace it by the (much more compact) freestanding l in later phases?