The University of Chicago Library’s thousand dollar shorthand identification challenge I mentioned here a few days ago has been won – the full announcement is here.

And the winner was… Italian software engineer Daniele Metilli who, working with colleague Giula Accetta, was able “to identify the shorthand and translate the first fragments in a few hours on a Thursday night. If I didn’t have access to online sources such as Google Books, the Greek Word Study Tool of the Perseus Digital Library, and the French corpora of the CNRTL, I probably wouldn’t have won. What great times we live in!

But it ended up being a three horse race, as two runners-up (Vanya Visnjic, a “PhD student in classics at Princeton University”, and Gallagher Flinn, a “PhD student in linguistics at the University of Chicago”) also identified the script and gave correct translations of fragments. So it was Metilli only by a nose!

Anyway, it turns out that the “mystery script” was a little-known system of French tachygraphy published by a certain Jean Coulon de Thévénot (1754-1813) in “Méthode tachygraphique, ou l’art d’écrire aussi vite que la parole” (1789), of which a revised 1819 edition was available online.

Metilli is still working on it (well done!), and has collected much of his findings on a good-sized PDF on his personal website. At the end of his write-up, he has a bit of fun speculating as to the identity of the note-taker:

While discussing the translator hypothesis with Miss Accetta on the day before publishing this report, something odd came to my mind. The main edition of the Odyssey we used as reference was translated by Édouard Sommer and published by Hachette book by book starting in 1848. While transcribing the shorthand, we had noticed how the annotations sometimes seemed to use the exact same wording as the “argument analitique” found in that edition.

The Sommer translation is very accurate and close to the text, just like our annotations. The other translations of the time (Bareste, Leconte de Lisle) look nothing like it. So it finally came to me: which year did Hachette publish book XI of the Odyssey? Which year did the annotator write his notes? The same year: 1854. What if Mr. Sommer were our mysterious annotator?!

At the risk of sounding like Penry the mild-mannered janitor, all I can sensibly do is quote Chinese-American philosopher H. K. Phooey, “Could be!” 😉

I’ve had a nice email from Marius-Adrian Oancea, asking me if I would look at his interesting Rohonc Codex site. While working for the EU in Fiji between 2009 and 2011 (it’s a dirty job, but someone’s got to do it, I suppose), Marius-Adrian filled his spare time making notes on the Rohonc Codex, and has now written them up in a series of web-pages.

For example, he sets out some persuasive arguments that the text is written from right-to-left (along each line), from top-to-bottom (for lines within each page) and from back-to-front (from page to page).

What is interesting about this is that because I don’t currently believe that the folios (folded pairs of pages) have ended up in the correct order (simply because the chronology of the Biblical pictures seems strangely out of order), it may be possible to identify some candidate facing pages based on matching incomplete half-phrases on the bottom of the right-hand page with incomplete half-phrases on the top of the left-hand page. (I’m not sure that anyone has done this yet.)

He has also found a pair of intriguing repetitive word-skipping sequences on 162L and 162R, where the two instances are each padded out with a different filler “letter” / “word”.

However, I think there is a far simpler explanation for this problematic text than his conclusion that “existing paragraphs were repeated or repeated with insertions […] to create a larger book without making the effort to produce original, non-repetitive text“. What if these inserted filler shapes are both cryptographic nulls? They certainly don’t seem likely to be meaningful, so perhaps they are purely meaningless (nulls): and the fact that the phrase without the nulls also appears on 162L also seems to point that way. It would be interesting to revisit the stats if those two (possibly) null characters were excised from the text stream.

Alternatively, the apparent presence of nulls in the Rohonc Codex’s text might instead mean that the author was trying to duplicate the page structure of an existing manuscript, and that those pages didn’t originally have much text on (and hence needed padding). We’re still not necessarily looking at an enciphered document: we still have no definitive proof of that, but the presence of nulls would seem to be a very strong indication of the presence of encipherment (to my eyes, at least).

Similarly, on the same facing page pair (162L/162R), the author seems to repeat a block of text: though I should also point out that a straightforward explanation for this could be that the encipherer lost their position in the text and ended up enciphering the same block twice in a row. It’s certainly easy to do if you’re not hugely experienced at enciphering.

All in all, I’m not (yet) convinced that “The Codex is written in Hungarian, or at least transliterates words in Hungarian, using a version of the rovásírás (Old Hungarian Alphabet) also known as székely rovásírás or székely-magyar rovás.”. Up to that point in his pages I was feeling quite comfortable with his overall argument, but decomposing symbols into pieces and then anagramming them to get transliterated old Hungarian is a bit more than I was personally able to chew on without choking. Even so, there are plenty of tasty things on Marius-Adrian’s site to get your teeth into. 🙂

Modern life plainly has me stumped: I now can’t even tell email spam and Voynich theories apart. Both seem to be generated from long lists of largely comprehensible phrases, before being dumped in my inbox as self-evident truths: both make my head hurt.

So with that gushing introduction over, here’s this week’s Voynich theory, courtesy of Jimmy Craig on starseeds.net (don’t ask what that is, you can guess enough to tell from its URL that you probably don’t want to know), who believes “that the Voynich Manuscript is describing “Food”, as in the “Mana from Heaven”, that Adam and Eve were not allowed to eat.” Moreover,…

The Characters in the Voynich Manuscript, are a description of the process that removes time. All the language in the Voynich Manuscript is apart of this algorithm based description, because of the complexity of the argument itself, the algorithm is parsed. This is probably the correct way, or more correct way of addressing the algorithm itself. The Process that Removes Time is Nibiru the Star Wormwood, Star of David. It is the great flood at the end of time, that brings mankind into Forever Night. The characters of the Voynich Manuscript are this Ocean, that is Nibiru the mechanism that removes time.

Craig then refers to the dragon picture on f25v, where the little dragon seems to be vacuuming up a giant plant into its snout:-

The Green Flower is Nibiru, the dinosaur in white below it is “Time”, the Star Nibiru is consuming “Time”, consuming the Dinosaur that is vomiting out the Flood Waters. Time is being destroyed by Nibiru we see the food or mana from heaven being produced thus some have concluded the Voynich Manuscript was a recipe book, when in fact it is a description of the translation of the universe. Therefore, it is a difference in the description of potential for the portion of man inheriting the new universe.

My own meta-theory is that there is a Voynich theorybot out there on a cunning, distant server, busy cranking out Voynich theories. You may think that this is a lousy hypothesis to explain the current near-Biblical flood of Voynich theories but… where’s your disproof?

What’s a Greek urn? About a hundred drachmas a day, Morecambe and Wise once said. Or possibly 1000 USD, if he /she can read shorthand marginalia…

The story of the day is that an unnamed donor has offered a thousand bucks to the first person to decrypt some curious marginalia in a rare 1504 edition of Homer’s Odyssey. And no, that’s not the car mentioned in The Simpsons’ segment “D’oh, Brother Where Art Thou?”, it’s a book held by The University of Chicago Library, whose librarians are no doubt being over-run with nutty emails now that the offer of a thousand bucks has gone semi-viral on the Interweb etc. You can download the hi-res TIFF files from Hightail here (though free registration is required for access).

The curious writing only appears on two pages of Chapter 11: and even with my ludicrously atrophied schoolboy Greek, it didn’t take long to work out which part the first page covers. If you start from the “πρωτην τυρω” on the second line, one translation runs:-

“The first I saw was Tyro. She was daughter of Salmoneus and wife of Cretheus the son of Aeolus. She fell in love with the river Enipeus who is much the most beautiful river in the whole world. Once when she was taking a walk by his side as usual, Neptune, disguised as her lover, lay with her at the mouth of the river, and a huge blue wave arched itself like a mountain over them to hide both woman and god, whereon he loosed her virgin girdle and laid her in a deep slumber. When the god had accomplished the deed of love, he took her hand in his own and said, ‘Tyro, rejoice in all good will; the embraces of the gods are not fruitless, and you will have fine twins about this time twelve months. Take great care of them. I am Neptune, so now go home, but hold your tongue and do not tell any one.’

“Then he dived under the sea, and she in due course bore Pelias and Neleus, who both of them served Jove with all their might. Pelias was a great breeder of sheep and lived in Iolcus, but the other lived in Pylos. The rest of her children were by Cretheus, namely, Aeson, Pheres, and Amythaon, who was a mighty warrior and charioteer.

“Next to her I saw Antiope, daughter to Asopus, who could boast of having slept in the arms of even Jove himself, and who bore him two sons Amphion and Zethus. These [two] founded Thebes with its seven gates…”

Yes, Neptune indeed “loosed her virgin girdle and laid her in a deep slumber” – these days, that kind of stuff only appears in court reports. 🙂

Anyway, what is interesting here (I think) is that you can see “Zethus | Amphion” written longhand in the bottom margin, as well as “Amythaon” above “Antiopé” in the left hand margin, all embedded inside long sequences of cursive marginalia.

zethus-amphion

amythaon-antiope

Well, I’m fairly sure you’ve already worked out what I suspect: that these marginalia are not French shorthand (as the anonymous donor believes, though admittedly without proof), but are in fact some kind of cursive late Greek tachygraphy. Personally, I suspect early 18th century rather than 19th century (the language seems a bit too clunky to my eye), but a proper French historian (or indeed palaeographer) should be able to figure that part out (i.e. from the French itself) without any great difficulty.

Unfortunately, I can’t think for the life of me where my book on tachygraphy and shorthand has disappeared to, so all I can do for the moment is note (a) that Greek tachygraphy was an in-vogue subject in Germany 1860-1900, (b) it is usually considered to be formed of three parts (a syllabary, a monoboloi, and a set of endings), (c) that there is a long-running debate as to whether Greek tachygraphy really can be considered a continuum covering different marks over more than a millennium, and (d) that the Porphyrogenitus Project at Royal Holloway might also be a good place to start (did they ever publish it all?). So, what we have here looks to me like a simplified Greek tachygraphic syllabary, but what do I know, eh?

For now, all I can do is just throw up a couple of interesting Greek tachygraphy links for any starving academics out there who are so desperate for a small heap of money that they’ll even take a Cipher Mysteries post at face value. Good luck!

* A Plato Papyrus with Shorthand Marginalia Kathleen McNamee.
* On Old Greek Tachygraphy F. W. G. Foat, The Journal of Hellenic Studies, Volume 21, November 1901, pp. 238-267. Intriguingly, Foat mentions some “crypto-tachygraphy in a 15th century Lucian” (in Cod. Pal. 73, described in p.2 of Wessely’s “Ein system altgriechischer Tachygraphie” (1896), but I wasn’t able to find a copy online).

I’ve looked at the Rohonc Codex numerous times in the past, though my conclusions so far haven’t exactly amounted to what I’d consider headline news:-
* its drawings are plainly Judeo-Christian, though often viewed through a distorting lens;
* the presence in its text of both pictograms and ridiculously repetitive sequences points to some kind of hacky nomenclator cipher;
* frankly, it’s a bit of a mess, with many folios stitched together out of order.

Being brutally honest, I’ve been waiting for Benedek Lang’s book on it to get translated into English (and I’d be delighted to publish such a splendid thing myself) before throwing myself off the Rohonc Codex’s cliff-top with only my cipher mystery experience to bungee back to the top. For if you were planning on exploring a bear cave, wouldn’t you want a torch to help steer you past previous adventurers’ rotting bones, hmmm?

All the same, I was recently delighted to find a genuinely sane Rohonc Codex website courtesy of Delia Huegel from Arad in Western Romania. She has – much to her own surprise, it would seem – spent several years trying to find and understand the religious dimension of the Rohonc Codex’s drawings. I’ve gone through (and enjoyed) every webpage: she writes with wit and verve, and – unlike much of the Rohoncology out there – she is happy to fess up to the issues her approach faces. It’s a tricky old thing, fer sher, and such honesty helps a great deal.

For me, the two highlights of her site were (a) her comparison of Albrecht Dürer’s hellmouth with the Rohonc Codex’s hellmouth, which I agree is a solid indication that North-Western European religious iconography was a specific influence on the Rohonc Codex’s author: and (b) her identification of King David praying to God and the back-to-front rendering of YHWH in Hebrew. Both are pretty much historical slam-dunks, but both raise more questions than they set out answer. Which is what the best answers nearly always do, IMO.

But most magnificently of all, her site is brought to life by the direct inclusion of a significant amount of imagery she has collected along the way while developing her ideas: I can imagine that the site sits very much as a kind of visual / iconic complement to Lang’s more obviously textual approach. Recommended! 🙂

As an afterthought, a question struck me: what if the pages were written in a back-to-front order, but a later owner then tried to rebind them so that the drawings instead appeared in a more conventional-looking front-to-back order? Just a thought!

Over the last few days here at Cipher Mysteries, I’ve had all kinds of ups and downs with the website, mainly to do with excessive levels of spam (which triggered account suspensions, etc). Anyway, I’ve now turned all the security dials to 12 (Spinal Tap must have got it wrong, because 11 apparently wasn’t high enough) and have added yet more Heath-Robinson bodgery to the webmaster scripts and configurations: fingers crossed it will make a positive difference. And I’ve finally got outgoing mails working again (how annoying was that?!), *sigh*

Regardless, it’s spring cleaning time: that is, time to clear out my short term collection of Voynich cultural mini-links, some of which you might even like. Arty Voynich appropriators first:-

‘Modestly’ (Anne Corr) is offering a 32-page hand-made book comprising images from the Voynich Manuscript. She says:-

There are eight folded pages each with four illustrations printed onto a lovely textured watercolour paper chosen for its excellence in print quality and longevity. I have used a coptic stitch with a faux leather cover, finished with a faux leather tie. It certainly gives the impression of a medieval book.

I hope she’s talking about her own book: as if we haven’t got enough trouble with Voynich theorists who similarly claim that the Voynich itself “gives the impression of a medieval book.” *shakes head, sighs*

Rather less obviously crafty is New Zealander Baron’s Selection, who (virtually) offers T-shirts via Zazzle themed around “Philosophy, Politics, general ‘intellectual’ stuff.” One is called Voynich #1 T-Shirt (f67r1), and the other Voynich #2 T-shirt (Scorpio).

Incidentally, I once won a big box of promo T-Shirts for suggesting that the right question for the answer “Above a grocer’s shop in Grantham” was “What was the setting for Ben Elton’s ‘Inferno’?” All of which was a very long time ago indeed, however you try to slice that particular gala pie.

And now we move on to Voynichian musicians.

Melbourne music producer Andrei Eremin has recently put out a track called Voynich Manoeuvre. I actually quite like it, but it has got a certain 9pm-in-a-Shoreditch-restaurant vibe to it that’s hard not to notice: music to drink overpriced urban cocktails to. But perhaps that’s the point, I don’t know.

Anyway, Arcadia Studios TV has a YouTube interview with Nelson Rebelo of rocking Portuguese underground band The Voynich Code to promote their debut single ‘Antithesis’: here’s the official video for it. The guitar lick at about 4:19 is quite cool, though the whole band then goes into a sequence where they all look they’re playing air guitar, even though most of them are holding guitars. Which is a bit odd.

All the same, my son points out (correctly, it has to be said) that Antithesis is hard to distinguish from the awesomely dark the Lego Movie Batman song, though The Voynich Code’s version possibly still gets the vote (by a whisker). But feel free to make up your own mind, pop pickers! And that’s just the first verse… 😉

Finally: some proper Voynichian miscellany.

Was the (15th century) Voynich Manuscript written in the (1987-vintage) conlang Lojban, perhaps through some kind of trickery involving Leonardo da Vinci and time travel? You know the answer already (I can only hope), but though this April Fool’s Day paper was inspired both by Talbert and Tucker and by Stephen Bax, the way it deciphers “penis” and “darseBar” surely combines technical correctness with historical mastery in a way that the preceding three authors can only dream of emulating in the future. Enjoy!

Jeffrey Rowland’s “Overcompensating” web comic has just run a short story about the Voynich Manuscript, with the author’s surprisingly reasonable premise being that “I’m sick of them not figuring out what the Voynich Manuscript means! I guess we’ll have to figure it out ourselves.

OC1486-frame-1

How foolish of us all, it could only ever have been a manual for building a God 2.0! Perhaps J.J. really has nailed it, who can tell? 😉

At last! Jordan Himelfarb of the Toronto Star has managed to crack the mystery of the Weldon Ciphers, with nothing more than a well-judged bit of social probing.

Online forum member “+Myst0wn” had cleverly unearthed the owner’s page for the mysterious blog “000xyz.blog.ca” referenced on the back of each envelope. Jordan thought about the owner’s name (“Sculpture 2.0”), and decided it must be something to do with “social sculpture”, a kind of art that is defined by people’s reactions to encountering something unusual.

But how was he/she connected to Western University? Jordan found an art instructor there called Kelly Jazvac whose art interests seemed fairly similar: and it turned out, after some to-ing and fro-ing, that Jazvac had taught the (still unnamed) “Sculpture 2.0”.

She explained that the Weldon code was an art project that came out of a second-year sculpture and installation class she taught in 2012. The artist, then an undergraduate student, placed 121 letters in the Weldon stacks and moved on with her or his (but probably her) life. Jazvac told me the artist was shocked by the project’s recent fame and wished to remain anonymous lest she be treated unkindly in the media. (The artist later declined my offer, via Jazvac, for an interview under the condition of anonymity.)

So it was, after all, simply a puzzle-like thing composed of 26 upper case and 26 lower case letters in a hand-built font (one that the artist christened “Sculpture 2.0”), but with a meaningless plaintext, and left abandoned in the stacks at Weldon. A thing of oddness and careful beauty, defined more by people’s collective reactions to it than its actual internal content.

Weldon cipher key

I had an interesting note from long-time Voynich Manuscript researcher Dana Scott about the Weldon Ciphers (thanks!). He noticed that (what Chris Demwell idiosyncratically called) the “fish” and “dog” glyphs in fact appear to be a linked pair:-

reconstructed-fish

So “fish” actually = “fish head”, while “dog” actually = “fish tail”. But what that means is still anybody’s guess.

Another interesting angle is, as the Pressing Refresh blogger points out, the moderate similarity with a game played in the same D. B. Weldon library in 2011. This was based around a fictional “Captain Smith” and included all manner of harmonic-themed cookie crumbs for the players to find. There’s much more on the Intangible Harmonics website, according to which it all ended up like this:

Our players determined that Smith’s words were from an obscure poem called Tecumseh, Or The Warrior of the West by John Richardson. The players then somehow figured out that the words on the scrap of paper were in the Shawnee language, the same language spoken by the great Tecumseh and his brother Tenskwatawa. The words were actually a library location code.

So, that’s one set of people who might possibly be involved, perhaps as a kind of karmic payback for (or follow-on to) Captain Smith’s historic adventures. Who can tell?

The Pressing Refresh blogger also suspects it might be a certain cryptographically-focussed assistant professor at Western University, which would also make a lot of sense.

My own best guess is that it is a cryptic literary cipher (for I’d be a bit surprised if a crypto professor would allow letters to scroll off the bottom of the page when inserting different-sized pictures: and pink feathers too?) by a writer who previously had his/her own blog hosted on the blog.ca domain. I managed to find a “Pale Writer” blog active there from 2006-ish, so – in the absence of anything better – that’s today’s best guess. Whoever that is (and perhaps you know who that is, because I certainly don’t).

Just so you know!

Having today had a closer look at the eighteen Weldon ciphers found so far, I have to say that there’s not quite as much cryptographic meat to chew as it initially seemed. In fact, there are exactly three different cryptograms, with only minor variations from those in the others.

So, here’s Chris Demwell’s original transcription for Note 01, along with my transcriptions for Notes 02 and 03, and descriptions of the differences between these and the fifteen other notes:-

* Note 01

threecircle leaf bubble dog apple dotsquare yinyang target square clover key bird hatch arrow
circle dotblob triangle clover threecircle fire cube bidirection sunfish pacman target three ra flux
arrow sun earth dotblob floyd diamond grass key apple bubble dotcircle ra target pacman star
apple hook yinyang clover triangle bird ra square brush dotsquare three bigstar bubble waves
target ra triangle dotcircle phi star grass leaf threecircle star diamond threecircle circle desktop
bidirection dotblob tack sun dotcircle threecircle circle ra fire dotsquare bigstar cube key leaf
dotsquare phi bubble splitcircle leaf feather floyd brush circle triangle star remote pacman remote
dotcircle threecircle gem frame triangle square trefoil
puzzlepiece bird apple arrow yinyang feather dotblob
bigstar tack apple star ra brush square
leaf hand threecircle bubble dotcircle phi sun

* Note 02

gem cube tree bird feather leaf key desktop ra dotsquare bubble square arrow grass star
hand sun desktop feather cube atomic ra star earth hand bigstar brush diamond apple key
tree feather cube phi flux dotsquare puzzlepiece frame arrow hatch dotblob ra cube key hook
square triangle waves dotcircle gem leaf gem waves threecircle earth clover phi bubble dotcircle
hook bird cube feather bidirection hook knot bigstar atomix bubble three square trefoil dotsquare bigstar
bird arrow dog dotblob hand triangle three yinyang hand waves atomic bigstar threecircle circle
dotsquare bigstar bubble sunfish leaf key hook gem gem
feather earth phi dotcircle desktop fire waves splitcircle
triangle leaf square remote hand arrow apple grass
threecircle dotblob feather target gem pacman threecircle dotcircle
gem phi triangle dotcircle bubble apple bird puzzlepiece

* Note 03

circle desktop bird leaf dotblob frame cube gem fire floyd tree feather tack knot foam
dagger key cube waves atomic three square bigstar bubble grass knot foam puzzlepiece dog pacman
threecircle dotcircle ra yinyang gem hatch cube floyd tack bird brush clover earth dotsquare
circle square flux hand dotblob dotcircle triangle waves dotcircle triangle trefoil dotsquare hand yinyang
square target remote circle yinyang star trefoil flux frame tree foam frame floyd feather fire
cube hook dotblob desktop feather circle brush three atomic feather desktop gem bubble brush square
target sunfish dotblob dotsquare grass bird pacman threecircle game dotsquare ra puzzlepiece waves atomic
star square yinyang waves square target dotcircle
bigstar three cube feather arrow apple sun leaf
bird desktop splitcircle puzzlepiece threecircle tree bigstar dotsquare
feather threecircle square arrow target three earth

* Note 04 = Note 03, but “square arrow target three earth” at the end replaced with “frame puzzlepiece”.
* Note 05 = Note 02
* Note 06 = Note 02, but with two extra symbols (“triangle waves”)
* Note 07 = Note 03
* Note 08 = Note 03, but “square arrow target three earth” at the end replaced with “frame puzzlepiece”.
* Note 09 = Note 02, but missing the final two symbols
* Note 10 = Note 02
* Note 11 = Note 03, but “square arrow target three earth” at the end replaced with “frame puzzlepiece”.
* Note 12 = Note 03
* Note 13 = Note 02, but missing the final six symbols
* Note 14 = Note 02, but with two extra symbols (“triangle waves”)
* Note 15 = Note 02
* Note 16 = Note 03
* Note 17 = Note 03, but missing the final five symbols
* Note 18 = Note 01

From the way that the text flows around the slightly different-shaped pictures, it seems likely to me that this was done in a straightforward word processor (say, Microsoft Word) with a custom font, text flowing left-to-right and top-to-bottom (as per normal). Also, even though I haven’t counted, my guess is that there are no more than 52 different shapes used in the three core cryptograms, which would seem to point to A-Z and a-z having been used.

Anybody want to have a go at cracking these? 🙂