Voynich Redivivus.

We discussed the notorious Voynich Manuscript back in 2013 (at which time slawkenbergius pointed out that the theory that the Voynich manuscript is written in Manchu led to the digitization of Jerry Norman’s Concise Manchu-English Lexicon); now Ariel Sabar (who has been featured here a number of times, e.g. 2013) has a useful roundup in the Atlantic (archived) of the many crackpot theories about it, as well as the theoretically better-grounded recent work by medievalist Lisa Fagin Davis and those who have come out of hiding in her wake: linguist Claire Bowern, computer scientists at the University of Malta, etc. It makes for fascinating reading, but I still prefer the conclusion of the Batya Ungar-Sargon article I linked back in 2013: it was Voynich what done it. (Thanks, rozele!)

Comments

  1. Nick Pelling’s site is entertaining on Voynich matters (a mix of criticizing crazy theories and hinting at his own eccentric solution) https://ciphermysteries.com/ If more medievalists and manuscript experts acknowledge that this manuscript is cool, I think its part of a wider trend where humanists at universities take public interest where they can get it rather than demanding that the public be keen on the same aspects of the past that professors are.

  2. David Eddyshaw says

    It is immediately apparent that the manuscript is written in proto-Western Oti-Volta.

    Cuius rei demonstrationem mirabilem sane detexi. Hanc marginis exiguitas non caperet.

  3. It is immediately apparent that the manuscript is written in proto-Western Oti-Volta.

    That was my suspicion, but I didn’t want to voice it without the warrant of an expert.

  4. in Manchu” – must be: by Fu Manchu.

    proto-Western Oti-Volta.” agreed, not archaic enough for proto-Welsh or KONGO.

  5. David Eddyshaw says

    The “Red Hunter”, ultimate founder of the Mossi-Dagomba kingdoms which spread the Western Oti-Volta languages so widely, is traditionally said to have come from east of Lake Chad. It is thus entirely possible that he was, in fact, Fu Manchu.

  6. Chi fu Manciù?

  7. David Eddyshaw says

    No, it would have been his brother, Psi Fu Manchu.
    Chi was the one who was reincarnated as Genghis Khan.

    https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Mask_of_Fu_Manchu

  8. Perhaps the impostor, Psu-do Fu

  9. David Eddyshaw says

    Who he?

  10. Once in correspondence with a Voynich scholar, I quoted about the Manchu theory a saying of my mother: “Fu Manchu, but many man smoke.”

  11. Nat Shockley says

    A hypothesis was presented earlier this year which seems reasonably plausible to me, but I admittedly know nothing about late mediaeval gynaecology:

    https://theconversation.com/for-600-years-the-voynich-manuscript-has-remained-a-mystery-now-we-think-its-partly-about-sex-227157

  12. Well, assuming that stuff is partly about sex is always a good heuristic.

  13. Or at least good clickbait.

  14. Stu Clayton says

    Well, assuming that stuff is partly about sex is always a good heuristic.

    Assumptions by other people that stuff is partly about sex are an excellent heuristic. From them I immediately and reliably conclude that dealing with what those people say and write would be a severe waste of my time. It’s all so banal and esoteric, like the doctrine of the Trinity – except that everyone can contribute their two cents’ worth of experience.

  15. This is a scathing review, which I’d been inclined to trust if it a. went more into specifics, and b. did not refer to Keagn Brewer and Michelle Lewis’s article as “Brewer and Green” or “Green and Brewer” (Monica Green collaborated with Brewer on other work.)

    I like Lisa Davis’s approach, of studying what you can. There’s a lot of interesting stuff to learn about this manuscript, even if you can’t read it, say, analyzing the tools used to cut the sheets, or even a statistical text study comparing the Voynich to the supposedly atextual Codex Seraphinianus.

  16. Though I am largely an ignorant rooky concerning the Voynich Manuscript, the article in the Social History of Medicine (Oxford UP), presumably a peer-reviewed publication, seems to me to be a detailed and learned presentation of an elaborated hypothesis. Even if it may turn out to be quite mistaken, what’s wrong with an attempt?

  17. Stu Clayton says

    Did anyone suggest that there is something “wrong” with the attempt ? I said I would not waste my time on it. Others will do as they please, as they have always done.

    I mentioned my own reaction not because I think it worthy of emulation, but simply to put the idea out there that one can choose. I have found that a lot of people are addicted to detailed, learned presentations of elaborated hypotheses. It never occurs to them to Just Say No.

  18. If you, Stu, don’t wish to read the article, fine.
    Calling the unread a waste of time, maybe less fine.

  19. Oh, that’s just Stu being Stu. Like me, he often expresses himself more sweepingly than might be advisable.

  20. Stu Clayton says

    i was very specific about my time. Isn’t it curious that that is stubbornly ignored ?

    There does seem to be a general conviction that whatever one opines must be imposable as a universal opinion on all. All Kant did was to take vulgar self-importance and doll it up as a categorical imperative.

  21. TBF “waste of my time” connotes “waste of anyone’s time” to many speakers of standard English. As soon as purposes have been crossed, people will start talking at them.

  22. Did a comment of mine get snarfed?

  23. Thanks for the heads-up — I just unsnarfed it.

  24. David Eddyshaw says

    sex-crazed herbalist

    The best kind of herbalist.

  25. I’m not sure I understand why an assumtion that some undefined stuff is about sex is esoteric.

    But I guess what is meant is an assumtion that stuff is underlyingly partly about sex.

    By the way, is Chomsky’s Language Faculty (I wanted to type LF but from “In the historical development of Chomsky’s theory of syntax, LF (Logical Form) has undergone significant evolution.” I understand that these two letters are reserved for a different (?) thing) partly about sex?

  26. it used to be, but things haven’t been the same since they replaced the tenured lines with adjuncts, who simply don’t have the time.

  27. I still miss Invisible Adjunct after two decades.

  28. Lars Mathiesen (he/him/his) says

    LFA = Looking for academic, maybe?

  29. The world’s first international conference was held quite recently (like in the past week or so). I wonder if the Voynich Manuscript was on the agenda.

  30. Ariel Sabar has also reported (very well) on a for-sure fake in Veritas: A Harvard Professor, a Con Man, and the Gospel of Jesus’s Wife (Doubleday, 2020).

    And on another disputed document: “The ‘Secret’ Gospel and a Scandalous New Episode in the Life of Jesus

    A Columbia historian said he’d discovered a sacred text with clues to Jesus’s sexuality. Was it real?” in The Atlantic, April, 2024. (I think Morton Smith faked it; others disagree.)

    As Antony Grafton wrote, some folks you would not at first suspect of forgery, did so, such as Erasmus.

    And retraction watch site records science publications with bogus data.

  31. I am fond of the genre. One favorite is Peter Lanyon-Orgill, whose career was reviewed here, and who was the publisher of supposed manuscripts of his ancestor who accompanied Cook on his Pacific voyages.

    Above all, Hugh Trevor-Roper’s Hermit of Peking: The Hidden Life of Sir Edmund Backhouse is a spectacular book.

  32. Me too. Trevor-Roper was a great historian, yet fooled by “Hitler Diaries.”
    Now, with “Artificial Intelligence” we have a new ghost writer–and new style forgeries?–
    by ghost-in-the-machine.

  33. I admittedly know nothing about late mediaeval gynaecology

    Which provides me with an excuse to link Mary Wellesley’s NYRB review of The Once and Future Sex: Going Medieval on Women’s Roles in Society, by Eleanor Janega:

    In his Decretum, a tenth-century manual on canon law, Bishop Burchard of Worms directed priests to ask female parishioners if they had inserted live fish into their vaginas and kept them there “for a while” until they were dead, then cooked and fed them to their husbands to stimulate passion. He prescribed two years of penance on the appropriate fast days for a woman who had done this. Medieval theologians took the insatiable lusts of women very seriously: as a friend pointed out, the procedure was apparently considered two thirds as bad as accidentally killing one’s baby, which is discussed two items down in the Decretum, for which three years of penance were prescribed.

    In The Once and Future Sex, Eleanor Janega notes that the likelihood of medieval women having performed such a maneuver is “probably low…no matter how lacking their sex lives might have been.” Did Burchard believe it was a common practice? It is hard to understand the mechanics, just for starters. His Decretum was based on earlier sources, so he might have carried his stipulation to priests across from his exemplar unthinkingly, but medieval theologians were often concerned that ecclesiastics could put novel ideas of sin into parishioners’ heads during confession. For the question to have been asked, a husband’s being served an ill-used fish had to have been a legitimate concern. […]

    Some writers showed an awareness of female sexual anatomy that might surprise modern readers. As far back as the thirteenth century at least one of them, Pietro d’Abano, had noticed the existence of the clitoris: he wrote that women could be aroused

    by having the upper orifice near their pubis rubbed; in this way the indiscreet, or curious [curiosi] bring them to orgasm. For the pleasure that can be obtained from this part of the body is comparable to that obtained from the tip of the penis.

    The eleventh-century Persian philosopher and physician Ibn Sina—known in the medieval West as Avicenna—wrote that men should caress a woman’s “breasts and pubis, and enfold their partners in their arms, without really performing the act.” This last clause reminds us that although some medieval men appeared to understand the mechanics of female pleasure, they nonetheless thought that the point of sex—the main “act”—was penetration, hopefully leading to procreation. Some writers suggested that for a woman to conceive she had to experience pleasure, which is heartening, but Janega justly cautions that this could have “dehumanizing consequences,” because it was thought that sex workers were “incapable of pleasure and driven solely by an interest in money” and could not become pregnant. The biological fathers of infants born to sex workers could thereby absolve themselves of responsibility for their children.

    There’s also some interesting Hattic material, e.g.:

    In London sex workers had to wear a special striped hood and were forbidden to live in the city itself. A statute of 1393 stated that they should “keep themselves to the places thereunto assigned, this is to say, the Stews [bathhouse brothels] on the other side of [the river] Thames, and Cokkeslane.” Janega writes that sex workers found outside the Stews risked being “stripped to their waist” as a “powerful form of public shaming,” though the Anglo-Norman source doesn’t seem to say this. It states that a woman would have to forfeit the “garnyment q[u]ele use per le dessus et le chaperon”—“the upper garment she shall be wearing, together with her hood.” “Garnyment” can mean “garment,” but it seems most often to mean an outer layer—the Middle English and Anglo-Norman dictionaries define it variously as “a coat, cloak, gown”—as well as armor or riding gear. So it appears more likely that the women, rather than risking public shame, stood to lose the cloaks and hoods that advertised them as sex workers, thereby temporarily impeding their ability to work.

    The MED entry is s.v. garnement; they don’t list a form “garnyment.”

  34. J.W. Brewer says

    Does the modest and forthright admission that one knows nothing of late medieval gynecology carry some sort of less humble implicature that one does know something of early medieval gynecology, although alas that is less potentially relevant to the Voynich situation?

    ETA: on further reflection it seems like if the admission were made aloud the words could be uttered with a variety of possible stress patterns, with one pattern carrying that implicature but the other probably not? Making the written statement ambiguous in that regard, I guess.

  35. “I admittedly know nothing about late mediaeval gynaecology,” said the dutchess haughtily, whereupon the abashed Voynich fled the scene, his face scarlet.

  36. David Eddyshaw says

    The “women (unlike men) are by nature sexually insatiable” trope is, of course, not specifically mediaeval, but goes all the way back to the Romans and Greeks. I wonder just when the current Andrew-Tate-style reversal (of what is clearly the Truth as revealed to our ancestors) first came into vogue? Was it the Reformation what done it?

  37. An interesting question which I suspect has been exhaustively studied by persons unknown to me. If you find out, let us know!

  38. David Marjanović says

    Some writers suggested that for a woman to conceive she had to experience pleasure, which

    was still believed by Republican politicians into the 21st century.

    the current Andrew-Tate-style reversal

    I think of the belief that women are by default asexual as Victorian, but how it came to be I have no idea either.

  39. D.N. O'Donovan says

    I think the most interesting thing about Voynich theories is that they so rarely move beyond the stage of being theories – that is, in the case of Voynich ‘theories’, speculation spun into an imaginative storyline for which the manuscript is scarcely more than a source of ‘clip art’.

    The whole ‘women’s medicine’ idea is compounded of assumptions that are far from being solidly established – such as an assumption that any manuscript containing vegetal images must be about herbal medicine (why? Why couldn’t those drawings be… say, pattern-book drawings for ornamental carving or embroidery?) I don’t say they are but that the ‘medicinal’ idea has never been more than a guess.

    Then you have a similarly superficial impression of the anthropoform figures turned into their description as ‘naked wormen’ – where’s the foundational research which proved that? In medieval art of Europe, the usual meaning for an unclothed body wasn’t ‘naked person’ but ‘un-embodied’ character, ‘slave’ or ‘prisoner’ or ‘soul damned to hell’. I might have missed one, but no copy of any text about women’s medicine made in Europe before 1440 – none I’ve seen – contains any drawings like those in the manuscript.

    That article (sadly published by OUP) for the Social History of Medicine is shamefully derivative, biased in the extreme by its omissions and erroneous attributions and misrepresents the balance of research in too many instances to list. I don’t know who was asked by OUP to vet that article but whoever it was did not do their work to the level one expects of a scholarly press.

    I might also mention that Nick Pelling is not a ‘fringe theorist’. I do not agree with his conclusions on numerous points but the study owes him, still, credit for establishing – after investigative research, and by a balance of historical and other solid evidence -a good number of the things most often repeated today. He (not Fagin Davis) established that the text had been inscribed by several distinct scribes. Before the radiocarbon dating, he had determined (by palaeographic and historical research combined) that the manuscript should be dated to the fifteenth century, and that it was from southern Europe (he nominated Milan). As I say, I don’t agree with all he says – I think his ‘Averlino theory’ unfortunate – but he is another important, scholarly, contributor to the study who is among those who have marginalised as a way to simultaneously take up the results of his work, while keeping the public spotlight fixed firmly on another, far less solid, but most effectively advertised theoretical narrative.

  40. David Marjanović says

    I think of the belief that women are by default asexual as Victorian, but how it came to be I have no idea either.

    …That actually comes from something I read about a book that did research all this. So, somebody out there knows.

    I don’t know who was asked by OUP to vet that article but whoever it was did not do their work to the level one expects of a scholarly press.

    That’s not how scientific journals work. When a manuscript comes in, it is assigned to one of the unpaid* editors, and it is their unpaid* job to find and contact potential reviewers (who aren’t paid either**). The publisher has nothing to do with any of this, and will get the paper “retracted” after publication if they find out and are particularly embarrassed.

    * There are a few journals that pay symbolic sums like 250 $/year to editors who took responsibility for unusually many manuscripts.
    ** Unless of course you consider peer review a basic part of every scientist’s job; in that case most of them are paid…

  41. The top journals in the “big three” sciences actually have full-time employee editors with doctorates. But otherwise, the situation is as David Marjanović describes.

  42. David Marjanović says

    took

    Took in that year, I mean.

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