Blogger “Frog Princess” spent a Sunday in Oxford taking randomesque pictures of flowers, muffins, shoes and cherry beer (sounds like an OK day to me), while thinking about vampires: her blog entry received a comment by “seraphim_grace” mentioning yet another Voynich book I hadn’t heard previously heard of…

Deliver Us From Evil” (2000) by Brit author Tom Holland (there’s an SFSite review by Victoria Strauss here) does indeed have vampires and the Voynich Manuscript, along with Prague, America, John Milton, the Earl of Rochester, and doubtless much more (it’s part of Holland’s Byron-was-actually-a-vampire secret history series of books). At 1p + p&p from Amazon Marketplace sellers, buying it probably won’t bankrupt most people: I’ve ordered a copy and will report back when it arrives…

On 12th April 2008, artist and well-respected alchemy expert Adam McLean posted up a fascinating picture of the baths of Pozzuoli he had found from the third quarter of the fifteenth century, and commented on its many strong similarities with the Voynich Manuscript’s water section. Excellent research, I thought… but how come I hadn’t seen it before?

Though Adam didn’t mention his source, a little detective work revealed that the image is entitled “Balneum Sulphatara“, folio 4 of Valencia Bibl. Universitaria MS 860 (formerly 138). And I had seen it before: an extremely over-exposed black-and-white version appears as plate 62 of C. M. Kauffmann’s classic 1959 “The Baths of Pozzuoli: A Study of the Medieval Illuminations of Peter of Eboli’s Poems“. But really, you’d barely recognize them as the same.

Unusually, Valencia MS 860 has good date and provenance information for it. Kauffman (p.82) says that De Marinis dates it between 1455 and 1458: and that it stayed in the “Aragonese royal library in Naples until the Franco-Spanish conquest of 1501“, when it moved to Spain until the present day. Kauffman also asserts that it was derived from the Bodmer (Geneva, Bibliotheca Bodmeriana) De Balneis MS, which he dates to the “third quarter of the fourteenth century”, and placed as “Southern Italian”.

If you compare the Bodmer Balneum Sulphatara drawing (f.3, Kauffman plate 21) with the Valencia one (f.4, Kauffman plate 62), you can see the reasons why the former was very probably the source of the latter: every figure is reproduced between the two MSS, each with extremely similar size and orientation. Their differences are merely ornamental: the wooden bath sides got upgraded with a fancy fish-like motif in the Valencia MS, while the top edge of the cave has taken on a stone-like ‘wolkenband’ appearance there.

But the big question: was either of these also a source for the Voynich Manuscript? I’ve gone through all the plates in Kauffman really closely, and I have to say that on that evidence I really don’t think that the water section of the VMs is an enciphered De Balneis. However, I am quite sure that the VMs’ author had definitely seen a copy of De Balneis and was influenced by it when constructing his pictures, in the same way that Rene Zandbergen persuasively argues that the author must have seen the manuscript now known as MS Vat. Gr. 1291 before drawing the zodiac section.

In fact, I interpret this in terms of steganography, in that I believe the style used for Vat. Gr. 1291 was appropriated as the cover cipher for the VMs’ zodiac section, while the style used for the Bodmer MS and Valencia MS 860 formed the cover cipher for its water section. Whereas the particular drawing similarities between the VMs and Valencia MS 860 simply arose from having been drawn in the same general period: correlation, but not causation.

I should close by noting that Adam McLean made his own in-depth art history study of the Voynich Manuscript, posting his results on the set of pages here. One of the most compelling similarities comes from his comparison of the lozenge-shaped tiles in the picture here: but that’s a discussion for another day…

Here’s a nice two-page article (here and here) by Timothy Doyle from the BookThink site on the role ‘Secret History’ plays in SciFi fantasy literature: it’s titled “The Lie Agreed Upon” because that was how Napoleon famously characterised history. (Though he actually used the words “A fable agreed upon“, which [according to Wikipedia] he probably took from Bernard le Bovier de Fontenelle‘s Mélanges de Littérature (1804), while the basic phrase is also widely attributed to Voltaire).

Anyway… Doyle’s theme is that in a secret history novel, all the surface details of historical fact remain basically the same, but the reader is invited to peek behind the curtain at all the political and technical machinations and intrigue that keep that lie propped up. As opposed to an ‘alternate history’ novel, where both surface and undercurrents diverge from the historical record.

It’s a nice piece, which leaps deftly from SF to The X-Files, to the Da Vinci Code, to the many parallels with the Voynich Manuscript (basically because most VMs theories seem to start from a secret history or a similar novelistic premise), to Neal Stephenson’s wonderful Cryptonomicon, to Thomas Pynchon’s Gravity’s Rainbow (and a couple of works of his I didn’t know), to Tim Powers, and so forth: Lev Grossman’s Codex even gets a honourable mention in the also-rans list at the end. All of which are riffs probably familiar to most Voynich News readers.

My favourite sentence from the article is this:-

“What is really interesting about Secret Histories is the shifts in historical meaning that occur, much like the optical illusion where a slight shift in perspective suddenly changes the beautiful girl into an ugly witch.”

I think Doyle comes splendidly close here to capturing the essence of Voynich theories: each seek to violate and redirect the currents beneath the historical record, with the theorist all the while using the keen magicry of the illusionist to silently cover up the implicit shift in meaning. Naturally, theory proponents see themselves as ‘unliars’, truth-tellers: but all (possibly bar one) are closer to novelists than they would like to admit. Ultimately, shouldn’t we agree with Napoleon/de Fontenelle/Voltaire that history is little more than a story we agree to accept? (…or is that a story in itself?)

I happened upon the following post a few days ago here, and thought I ought to reproduce it here for anyone that’s interested (the cryptography history lane tends to be filled with caravans, and as a result is somewhat slow-moving). When the volume finally appears (in 2009?), I’ll be just as interested in the paper on the Voynich Manuscript as the rest of it. Having said that, I’m a bit concerned that Kahn is not only misspelt but a little bit misrepresented (for instance, Kahn discusses medieval Arabic cryptology on pp.89-99) in the blurb.

Oh, and they’re not interested in publishing two papers on the VMs in the same volume. Just so you know not to offer them one (like I did, *sigh*).

* * * * * * * *

Call for contributions for a volume of collected essays:

Codes and Ciphers through The Middle Ages

This call is designed to expand and enhance an essay collection that is based on two panels entitled “Codes and Ciphers through The Middle Ages,” which took place at the International Congress on Medieval Studies, Kalamazoo MI, in 2006 and 2007.
It seeks to fill a major gap in the study of codes and ciphers in the medieval world. The codes and ciphers of the Middle Ages have received little or no modern scholarly attention. David Khan’s 1181-page volume _The Code-Breakers: The Comprehensive History of Secret Communication from Ancient Times to the Internet_, for example, devotes a mere thirty-four pages to the ancient and classical world, and little more than one sentence to the Middle Ages, claiming that “ciphers, of course, had been used by monks throughout the Middle Ages for scribal amusement” (106). But the construction and use of codes, ciphers, secret languages and mathematical secrets in the Middle Ages were much more than amusement: they were central to intellectual culture as modes of concealing dangerous, magical or secret information, and as a means of connecting oneself to the divine. As such, they appear in the writings of major figures ranging from Isidore of Seville to Hrabanus Maurus, Alcuin and Hildegard of Bingen. They also figure in the manuscripts of lesser known students of magic in Heidelberg, and numerous anonymous texts and manuscripts including Anglo-Saxon riddles, Old Norse literature and runes, and the computus. Clearly, codes and ciphers were a multilingual, cross-period, inter-cultural phenomenon in the Middle Ages; they warrant more scholarly attention. Given current emphases on “security,” and the proliferation of forms of encryption on the internet, fostering scholarly discussion of history of cryptography seems especially relevant to the 21st century. Current contributions address the uses of codes, ciphers, secret languages and mathematics in the writings of Hildegard, the Voynich Manuscript, Anglo-Saxon riddles, Hrabanus Maurus’ _In honorem sanctae crucis_, the Pseudo-Bedan _Propositiones_ and the _Propositiones ad Acuendos Juvenes_ attributed to Alcuin. While we welcome contributions on any aspect of codes and ciphers in any period of the Middle Ages, we are especially interested in essays that will widen the scope and increase the depth of the collection.

Please submit detailed abstracts or drafts of essays (style: CMS 14th edition) by 1 July 2008 to: Sharon M. Rowley at [email protected] or [email protected]

Here’s a nice bit of craft by someone called “iisaw” (Eric Coyote Elliott), who’s made a fabulous astrolabe-like instrument and posted a couple of pictures of it on the DeviantArt website – click on the picture there for a detailed view.

enigmatic_instrument_by_iisaw_mini

As you should be able to see, Eric used Voynich lettering (probably the EVA font) when etching enigmatic script on his enigmatic instrument. He writes:-

This “Cosmolabe” is a prop for a movie. The fifteen circular symbols on the front represent different worlds and the signs on the outer rim are components of magical runes used to travel between the worlds. The instument itself is a way to calculate which runes need to be used for opening gates between specific places.

Cool! What’s also nice is the way that it mirrors many of the circular diagrams in Quire 9. As to the text, I can see “qoksheedy” (which only appears on f108v) there, though the phrase it is in does not: so it looks to me like he’s done a nice job of simulating Voynichese, possibly even better than Gordon Rugg’s grilles ever did. 🙂

At last, my copy of Arthur W.J.G. Ord-Hume’s “Perpetual Motion: The history of an obsession” (which I mentioned here) has arrived, though I must admit to a certain amount of disappointment that its chapter 15 (“Perpetual Lamps“) only runs from page 194 to page 199. All the same, if that is all we have, then let us pick up that baton and run with it…

Ord-Hume discusses Fortunio Liceti’s “De Lunae Subobscura Luce prope coniunctiones“, which turns out (I think) to be Chapter 50 (L) of his 1640 book “Litheosphorus“: there’s an online scan at the Wolfenbütteler Digitale Bibliothek here, though (once again) it turns out to be only some six pages long.

Though Ord-Hume mentions various bits from Della Porta, his main source seems to be the section in Bishop John Wilkins’ 1648 “Mathematicall Magick, or The wonders that may be performed by Mechanical geometry” entitled “Subterraneous lamps, diverse historicall relations concerning thsir duration for many hundred years together“.

I’d heard of the book before: it merits a mention on p.309 of William Eamon’s enjoyable “Science and the Secrets of Nature” (1994), who notes both that it used the word “Magick” in an ironic sense, because “vulgar opinion… doth commonly attribute all such [machines and devices] unto the power of Magick“, and that Isaac Newton was an “avid reader” of it [as was Christopher Wren]. Also on my bookshelf is “The Rosicrucian Enlightenment Revisited” (1999), where Paul Bembridge (in his article “Rosicrucian Resurgence at the court of Cromwell“) briefly namechecks Wilkins’ mention of the eternal lamp allegedly in the tomb of Christian Rosenkreutz. (It’s in Yates too, of course).

[Incidentally, because Curse readers will remember my discussion of early modern wind-powered cars, I should say that Wilkins also talks about Simon Stevin’s wind-wagon, and even includes a rather faked-up line drawing of it (you can see a copy of it here).]

Yes, I’d love to buy a proper copy of Wilkins’ book, but… a first edition apparently went at auction earlier this year for £1000: oh, and there’s a copy at B & L Rootenberg up for $3500. OK, the dollar’s weak, but it’s not that weak, right?

Thankfully, Kessinger Publishing sell (for rather less cash) a print-on-demand reproduction which you can buy through Amazon etc: but note that (rather unhelpfully) they’ve modernised the spelling of the title to “Mathematical Magic“. Anyhow, I’ve ordered a copy, and will post a blog entry about it when it arrives…

Yes, I’m probably just as amazed as you are: that a lowly pop-culture artefact such as the VMs could ever be plausibly mentioned in the same sentence as Chelsea FC. Tolstoy or Chekhov (the writer, not the Star Trek navigator, you fooool) maybe: but… the Voynich Manuscript? Naaah.

Yet in post #566 on “The Intelligent Forum” at CFCnet forums, long-time forum member “Hanuma” writes:

We weren’t the first or last side to struggle against [Liverpool], so Rafa hardly worked out the Voynich Manuscript when he went all-out defence and hoped for the best.

Stunning stuff! 🙂

No, not the 2008 film (though that too has a crystal skull-based storyline): I’m talking about the 1995 book by Max McCoy, which Bantam have just (May 2008) reissued apropos of nothing (apart from perhaps trying to surf the wave of the film’s gigantic marketing spend?)

The Voynich Manuscript makes its appearance very early on (p.27, actually the first page of Chapter 1): McCoy manages to present its history very lightly and not bog the reader down in too many details. But as the book is set in 1933, there wasn’t a whole UFO angle to cover (or other such modern confections). Instead, you get a little bit of Newbold, Bacon, alchemy, Major John M. Manly (!!!), John Dee, Kelley, the Shew Stone, and even a quick reference to Wilfrid Voynich in New York: basically, everything moves briskly along in the kind of proper screenplay-like way you’d hope from an Indy novel. Yes, there’s even the occasional snake (for readers playing Indy buzzword bingo, I guess).

I’ll admit it: I was charmed by the book. It’s small (293 pocket-size pages), no larger than you’d imagine a Japanese commuter squeezing into a pocket, and reads so quickly that at some points (most notably in the end sequence past the oasis) I deliberately closed my eyes to slow the pace down so that I could properly picture the scene in my mind.

Historically, the book has a deliciously light touch throughout, in particular when Indy and his companion are improbably rescued by an elderly French couple called Nicholas and Peronelle (p.200) – and if you can’t work out who they are by that stage in the story, you very possibly deserve to be shot.

I liked all the atlantici history and the Shelta Thari stuff (there’s a Wikipedia page too) woven in: but note that when McCoy writes “Nus a dhabjan dhuilsa“, he probably means “Nus a dhabjon dhuilsha” [‘The blessing of God on you’], though I’d prefer not to pick a fight with a tinker / tinsmith as to which one is correct. Incidentally, my guess is that McCoy picked up the reference to Thari from Roger Zelazny’s 10-book ‘Amber’ series.

Inevitably, there are some historical mistakes in the book (the VMs wasn’t in Yale in 1933, I’m pretty sure that the British Museum had a positive rotograph of at least some of the VMs in 1929, etc), but frankly I couldn’t care less. It’s a delightful, frothy, whip-cracking romp through alchemical history, that I think should be required reading for any modern Voynich novelist.

Well, we now have a name for Richard Douglas Weber’s forthcoming Voynich novel: “The Voynich Prophecy”. His author page on the Publisher’s Marketplace site seems to describe his novel as a euro thriller with a kind of neo-Nazi alchemy twist: he’s also posted up a four-minute video montage on YouTube for the book, where it is described as an “occult conspiracy thriller”.

Curiously, Weber’s whole media approach to novel promotion / marketing seems quite opposite to the kind of thing novelists have been doing. I went to a lecture in the Borders in Kingston a few days ago given by the very pragmatic Alison Baverstock (soft-promoting her actually very good book “Marketing Your Book: an author’s guide): sadly, the best current advice she had for authors seemed to be to try to make press out of your personal circumstances, the examples given being (a) losing half a limb (b) sleeping with a celebrity, or (c) having police take over your house during an armed incident.

As for me, I feel caught in the no-man’s land between these two extrema: while I have no huge faith in the traditional book-selling industry’s agenda and methodologies in the age of the Internet and digital print, I’m still just that bit too old-fashioned to montage loads of borrowed images on YouTube. But I have an MBA: and MBAs are forever looking for a “middle way” that finesses the best of both worlds, rather like intellectual historians steering a path between unreliable accounts. Hopefully I’ll find my own answers in the end…

In a recent post, I mentioned the idea that the d’Agapeyeff cipher might involve a diagonal transposition on the 14×14 grid cryptologists suspect it may well have been based upon. To test this out a bit, I wrote a short C++ program (which I’ve uploaded here) which turns the number pairs into characters (for convenience) and prints out all four diagonal transpositions (forward, reverse, forward boustrophedon, reverse boustrophedon) starting from each of the four corners.

Because the number of doubled and tripled letters is a simple measure of whether a transposition is likely to be plausible or not, I counted those up as well. The next metric to calculate would be the unique letter adjacency count (i.e. how many unique pairs of letters appear for each ordering)… but that’s a task for another day.

Interestingly, transpositions starting from the top-left corner (and their reverse-order reflections in the bottom-right corner) have no triple-letters at all, as well as far fewer double-letters (9/10/11 compared to 13/14/15) than transpositions that start from the top-right. Though intriguing, I don’t know if this is statistically significant: I haven’t determined what the predicted doublet and triplet count would be for a totally randomised transposition, perhaps calculating that too that would be a good idea.

For any passing cryptologers, here is the ASCII version of the d’Agapeyeff cipher (as output by the C++ code) when arranged as a 14×14 grid (in numerical order but without J), followed by the 16 diagonal transpositions with their associated double & triple counts. My guess is that the top left corner reverse diagonal transposition (the second one down, starting “KBDMIDPIK…”) is most likely to be the correct transposition, but we shall see (hopefully!) if this is true…

K B M P Q B Q D L D Q I P O
D I I M O N L C L L I I M B
D K N M O Q K I E N K K K S
C E E L C L K P K K D B M R
P I C M K I N L E L O P D P
D P P C M G B N B L L G L D
C K M L D N C M P L C C C Y
I L Q Q O C P O E D P E B T
B B P Q P Q I Q G K D E K F
E N B D I L M O B M D Q L S
E B D O O Q N P I Q L E G I
N N P M N D B G B E B N K R
G C M M G G N M P O K M L N
G O B M N K L D K I P L B R

*** Top left corner ***
Forward order…
KDBDIMCKIPPENMQDIEMOBCPCLONQIKPMCQLDBLMCKLKCLEBQLMIKILDE
NPQDGNPELQNBBQONBLKNIIGNDDPCCNEKKIPGCPOIQPMBLDKMOOMMOLIO
PLOBKBBMNQMQELLPMSMGDNOGDCGDRNGBPBKPCLPKNGIMDECDLMBQDEBY
DPELQKTKOBELFIKNGSPMKILLRBNR
–> number of doubles = 11, number of triples = 0
Reverse order…
KBDMIDPIKCQMNEPBOMEIDQNOLCPCDLQCMPKILCKLKCMLBDLIKIMLQBEQ
LEPNGDQPNEIINKLBNOQBBNPIKKENCCPDDNGOMKDLBMPQIOPCGBKBOLPO
ILOMMOSMPLLEQMQNMBRDGCDGONDGMPLCPKBPBGNDCEDMIGNKYBEDQBML
TKQLEPDFLEBOKSGNKIIKMPRLLNBR
–> number of doubles = 9, number of triples = 0
Simple boustrophedon (forward then reverse)…
KBDDIMPIKCPENMQBOMEIDCPCLONQDLQCMPKIBLMCKLKCLDLIKIMLQBEE
NPQDGNPELQIINKLBNOQBBNGNDDPCCNEKKIPOMKDLBMPQIOPCGOMMOLIO
PLOBKBSMPLLEQMQNMBMGDNOGDCGDRPLCPKBPBGNKNGIMDECDYBEDQBML
DPELQKTFLEBOKIKNGSIKMPLLRNBR
–> number of doubles = 10, number of triples = 0
Reverse boustrophedon (reverse then forward)…
KDBMIDCKIPQMNEPDIEMOBQNOLCPCIKPMCQLDLCKLKCMLBEBQLMIKILDQ
LEPNGDQPNENBBQONBLKNIIPIKKENCCPDDNGGCPOIQPMBLDKMOBKBOLPO
ILOMMOBMNQMQELLPMSRDGCDGONDGMNGBPBKPCLPDCEDMIGNKLMBQDEBY
TKQLEPDKOBELFSGNKIPMKIRLLBNR
–> number of doubles = 9, number of triples = 0


*** Top right corner ***
Forward order…
OPBIMSQIKRDIKMPLLKBDDDLNDPLYQCEKOGCTBLIKLLCBFQNKPELCEKSP
OQKLBLPELIMMOLNNPDDQGRBIMCIBMEKDEKNKINLKGCOGMLNLRDKEMMNP
QBQBMBDECCDCIOIEKLCIPLOQMPBOPPPMQPLNGPIDKQQIQBMKCLPDODND
IBBONGLBNDMGKEBPMNENMMNCBGOG
–> number of doubles = 14, number of triples = 2
Reverse order…
OBPSMIRKIQPMKIDDDBKLLYLPDNLDTCGOKECQFBCLLKILBSKECLEPKNQI
LEPLBLKQOPRGQDDPNNLOMMNKEDKEMBICMIBRLNLMGOCGKLNIKBMBQBQP
NMMEKDLKEIOICDCCEDPOBPMQOLPICIPGNLPQMPPKMBQIQQKDDNDODPLC
LGNOBBIKGMDNBNMPBEMMNEBCNOGG
–> number of doubles = 15, number of triples = 1
Simple boustrophedon (forward then reverse)…
OBPIMSRKIQDIKMPDDBKLLDLNDPLYTCGOKECQBLIKLLCBFSKECLEPKNQP
OQKLBLPELIRGQDDPNNLOMMBIMCIBMEKDEKNRLNLMGOCGKLNIKDKEMMNP
QBQBMBLKEIOICDCCEDCIPLOQMPBOPIPGNLPQMPPDKQQIQBMKDNDODPLC
IBBONGLKGMDNBEBPMNMMNENCBOGG
–> number of doubles = 13, number of triples = 0
Reverse boustrophedon (reverse then forward)…
OPBSMIQIKRPMKIDLLKBDDYLPDNLDQCEKOGCTFBCLLKILBQNKPELCEKSI
LEPLBLKQOPMMOLNNPDDQGRNKEDKEMBICMIBKINLKGCOGMLNLRBMBQBQP
NMMEKDDECCDCIOIEKLPOBPMQOLPICPPMQPLNGPIKMBQIQQKDCLPDODND
LGNOBBIBNDMGKNMPBEENMMBCNGOG
–> number of doubles = 14, number of triples = 0


*** Bottom right corner ***
Forward order…
RNBRLLIKMPSGNKIFLEBOKTKQLEPDYBEDQBMLDCEDMIGNKPLCPKBPBGNR
DGCDGONDGMSMPLLEQMQNMBBKBOLPOILOMMOOMKDLBMPQIOPCGPIKKENC
CPDDNGIINKLBNOQBBNQLEPNGDQPNEDLIKIMLQBELCKLKCMLBDLQCMPKI
QNOLCPCBOMEIDQMNEPPIKCMIDBDK
–> number of doubles = 11, number of triples = 0
Reverse order…
RBNLLRPMKIIKNGSKOBELFDPELQKTLMBQDEBYKNGIMDECDNGBPBKPCLPM
GDNOGDCGDRBMNQMQELLPMSOMMOLIOPLOBKBGCPOIQPMBLDKMOGNDDPCC
NEKKIPNBBQONBLKNIIENPQDGNPELQEBQLMIKILDBLMCKLKCLIKPMCQLD
CPCLONQDIEMOBPENMQCKIPDIMDBK
–> number of doubles = 9, number of triples = 0
Simple boustrophedon (forward then reverse)…
RBNRLLPMKISGNKIKOBELFTKQLEPDLMBQDEBYDCEDMIGNKNGBPBKPCLPR
DGCDGONDGMBMNQMQELLPMSBKBOLPOILOMMOGCPOIQPMBLDKMOPIKKENC
CPDDNGNBBQONBLKNIIQLEPNGDQPNEEBQLMIKILDLCKLKCMLBIKPMCQLD
QNOLCPCDIEMOBQMNEPCKIPMIDDBK
–> number of doubles = 10, number of triples = 0
Reverse boustrophedon (reverse then forward)…
RNBLLRIKMPIKNGSFLEBOKDPELQKTYBEDQBMLKNGIMDECDPLCPKBPBGNM
GDNOGDCGDRSMPLLEQMQNMBOMMOLIOPLOBKBOMKDLBMPQIOPCGGNDDPCC
NEKKIPIINKLBNOQBBNENPQDGNPELQDLIKIMLQBEBLMCKLKCLDLQCMPKI
CPCLONQBOMEIDPENMQPIKCDIMBDK
–> number of doubles = 9, number of triples = 0*** Bottom left corner ***
Forward order…
GOGBCNMMNENMPBEKGMDNBLGNOBBIDNDODPLCKMBQIQQKDIPGNLPQMPPP
OBPMQOLPICLKEIOICDCCEDBMBQBQPNMMEKDRLNLMGOCGKLNIKNKEDKEM
BICMIBRGQDDPNNLOMMILEPLBLKQOPSKECLEPKNQFBCLLKILBTCGOKECQ
YLPDNLDDDBKLLPMKIDRKIQSMIBPO
–> number of doubles = 14, number of triples = 2
Reverse order…
GGONCBENMMEBPMNBNDMGKIBBONGLCLPDODNDDKQQIQBMKPPMQPLNGPIC
IPLOQMPBOPDECCDCIOIEKLDKEMMNPQBQBMBKINLKGCOGMLNLRBIMCIBM
EKDEKNMMOLNNPDDQGRPOQKLBLPELIQNKPELCEKSBLIKLLCBFQCEKOGCT
DLNDPLYLLKBDDDIKMPQIKRIMSPBO
–> number of doubles = 15, number of triples = 1
Simple boustrophedon (forward then reverse)…
GGOBCNENMMNMPBEBNDMGKLGNOBBICLPDODNDKMBQIQQKDPPMQPLNGPIP
OBPMQOLPICDECCDCIOIEKLBMBQBQPNMMEKDKINLKGCOGMLNLRNKEDKEM
BICMIBMMOLNNPDDQGRILEPLBLKQOPQNKPELCEKSFBCLLKILBQCEKOGCT
YLPDNLDLLKBDDPMKIDQIKRSMIPBO
–> number of doubles = 13, number of triples = 0
Reverse boustrophedon (reverse then forward)…
GOGNCBMMNEEBPMNKGMDNBIBBONGLDNDODPLCDKQQIQBMKIPGNLPQMPPC
IPLOQMPBOPLKEIOICDCCEDDKEMMNPQBQBMBRLNLMGOCGKLNIKBIMCIBM
EKDEKNRGQDDPNNLOMMPOQKLBLPELISKECLEPKNQBLIKLLCBFTCGOKECQ
DLNDPLYDDBKLLDIKMPRKIQIMSBPO
–> number of doubles = 14, number of triples = 0