Showing posts with label Gordon Rugg. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Gordon Rugg. Show all posts

Thursday, 10 July 2008

Modern hoaxes...

Note: this article has now moved to modern-hoaxes on Cipher Mysteries

While reading up on the John Titor phenomenon (which Benjamin Kerstein based his Josef6 novel upon), I came across some other great modern hoaxes / self-deceptive phenomena I hadn't previously been aware of. I decided to briefly explore these, in case I could find parallels I could find with the Voynich Manuscript (thanks to Gordon Rugg, the notion of a "Voynich hoax" has become well entrenched in VMs commentary).

First up is The Case of Kirk Allen from the (somewhat worryingly named) Brainsturbator blog, who in turn took it from Jacques Vallee's book "Revelations". This tells the story of a research scientist who compiled a gargantuan mass (200 chapters, 82 scale maps, 61 architectural sketches, 12 genealogical tables, 306 drawings etc) of highly detailed documents that somehow told of his epic life in space - and the psychologist in Baltimore who took on his case.

It's all fascinatingly delusional stuff, particularly in the way that the psychologist had to sort himself out after having sorted out his patient. The Brainsturbator blogger intersperses the text with small images from the Codex Seraphinianus, whose own unhinged brand of otherworldiness fits the whole tale quite well.

Some have claimed that the Voynich Manuscript is this kind of an object (though meaningless), a kind of cursed intellectual science fiction where the form takes over the content, and where the writing takes over the writer (though several hundred years before Science Fiction became an actual genre, of course). But I'm not convinced: Kirk Allen's need was for a narrative object to make sense of his life. Though he wrote some sections in his own private shorthand, this was a very secondary aspect of the whole fantasy: he needed to write it in order to link all his delusions together by bringing them all to the surface, not to hide them from himself.

In fact, his whole work was a kind of 'proto-therapy', and so ultimately all that the psychiatrist Dr Lindner did was to help steer Kirk Allen towards the logical completion of his workj, at which point its fragility would be revealed and it would all fall away. Though this is what happened, it did take a looooong time.

The second example is UMMO (also from our Brainsturbator friend), a weird European UFO cult that was started as a kind of surreal practical joke by Spaniard Jose Luis Jordan Pena, pretending that Earth had visitors from the Planet UMMO. Thanks to a bit of physics trickery (mainly triboluminescence), many people were taken in by the carefully staged demonstrations of communication with these aliens.

And nobody would have been any wiser, had not one particular crazy sect called “Edelweiss” begun to brand their children with the UMMO emblem: at which point Pena decided that enough was enough, and so 'fessed up to the whole thing.

The UMMO emblem (from an Italian site)

Now this, like the John Titor phenomenon, was a well-executed hoax, and - given that it required many more people to collaborate over a period of decades to achieve its rather cheeky result - was perhaps even more special.

Was the Voynich Manuscript a hoax? From reading about these actual hoaxes, I'm particularly struck by their storytelling aspect: at each stage, you can say whatever you like, as long you give yourself enough "wriggle room" to embellish and extend in the future. In fact, you can view them as a kind of improvisational storytelling, where the hoaxer picks up the threads of the hoaxee's disbelief and actively weaves them back into the fabric.

In business school terms, this is a kind of non-formally planned strategy that is interactive, almost to the point of resembling a game: hence the parallels (I'm thinking mainly of UMMO and Dan Burisch here) that emerge with role-playing games. Whereas if you try to impose a hoaxing explanation on top of the Voynich, you pretty much have to accept that its type of game was role-played purely by the maker, without anyone else ever looking at it.

Thirdly, there is the whole Urantia Book phenomenon, which seems to be a kind of strange fake-science channeling thing. This too wove details and objections from the world into a kind of strange religious-like fabric of immense size. Could the VMs contain channelled semi-religious writings, a kind of Renaissance halfway-house between Hildegard of Bingen and the Urantia Book? Again, it doesn't seem to me to satisfy the need for a narrative explanation, which seems to me to be best (and most powerfully) described as a fabrication, where a collection of unconnected threads are iteratively woven into a single "explanatory fabric".

And so we come back to the notion of a delusional internal architecture behind the VMs, more like Kirk Allen's magnum opus: but one where the writer is apparently trying to make something difficult for himself/herself rather than something helpful. But how could that form the basis of a better explanation of the Voynich than "a cipher we cannot yet break"?

I suppose people like Rugg have made hoaxing an intellectual fashion item, a postmodern superficiality that can be cleverly namedropped at parties - oh, didn't you hear that it's meaningless? Yet to make this leap of faithlessness, you have to abandon any pretence at trying to read the history of the object, and discard any idea of reconstructing the psychology (or indeed the psychopathy) patiently assembling a complex thing for its own rational reasons. But Rugg's hoax account seems like a shallow, unidimensional tack to take: sorry, but humans are complex entities, and nothing human is ever that simple.

Friday, 27 June 2008

More Dan Burisch Voynichification...

Note: this article has now moved to more-dan-burisch-voynichification on Cipher Mysteries

It used to be the case that Google could find hardly anything connecting Dan Burisch and the Voynich Manuscript apart from my postings here: but now there are over 50 hits.

Some of these, such as this one, are from people on the inside of the labyrinth/RPG: these tend to throw yet more sand in the face of anyone trying to understand Burisch's claim, by asserting things such as "The Voynich Manuscript may provide clues to the shape and function of items found in the YSC cells, spooled material". No, you're absolutely right: it means nothing to me either.

Other discussion boards have whole bunches of people saying Dan Burisch is a fraud, though with occasional rambling posters popping up to defend him:-
From the website ‘world mysteries’ concerning the Voynich document we read in an except from Dr. Levitov: "There is not a single so-called botanical illustration that does not contain some Cathari symbol or Isis symbol. The astrological drawings are likewise easy to deal with; the innumerable stars are representative of the stars in Isis' mantle.” The fate of the the Cathars resembles that of the Knights Templar, does not the dualism of the former also receive a modicum of redemption in the restoration of the latter?With Dr. Burisch’s background in microbiology, the Voynich ‘botanical illustrations’ were child’s play, and the astrological designations had already been previously noted as corresponding to the Milky Way Galaxy, and by conversion of linear transformations into ‘diagrammatic notation,’ the determinant of the matrix was solved. ‘As above so below’ was not, in this case, a spiritual derivative, it was simply and starkly a ‘spacial’ one.
Ohhhh dear: if a novelist tried to get away with froth like this, he/she would get taken apart. There is no Milky Way link, there is no microbiology, there is no Cathar link, there is no Templar link, there is no matrix (spatial or otherwise), there is no religion, no gnosis, no dualism. The Voynich Manuscript being summoned up here is an imaginary one, a heretical MacGuffin for a potboiler that never quite got written.
In many ways, I get a sense from all this of a deeply tragic situation, of a bright (but disturbed) person grasping at anything they can find on the glittering, shallow surface of Net knowledge that might just explain (however temporarily) their personal pain, the loss they feel: but it never does, and their pain never goes away.
I have no idea if that person is Dan Burisch or someone else: and in most of the important ways, it really doesn't matter. John Manly was right in detail but not in scope: more than simply a blank cryptographic screen to project ideas and emptions upon, the VMs is actually like a magnet for unhappy PhDs, a sandpit for them to play out their make-believe stories of intellectual redemption. By doing this, they can "rescue" someone from historical oblivion whose frustrated life-experience somehow chimes with theirs: all of which amounts to a kind of intellectual displacement activity directed at the past when they should be putting the effort into their own lives in the present to save themselves - but perhaps that's too emotionally hard for them to do.
Perhaps I'm no less guilty (with my reconstructed story of Antonio Averlino "Filarete") as Levitov, or Rugg, or any of the other 20+ Voynich theories out there. I don't feel unhappy: but I can at least see that maybe I was hoping for redemption in some other way. In my defence, all I can say is that I at least tried my best to let the manuscript do the talking... and hope that this will in the end prove to be enough to move the history forward. Isn't that as good as it gets?
As a (frankly slightly spooky) postnote on the whole Dan Burisch affair, there's an online novel (with a bit of a Voynich thing going on) posted to a blog that you might well find fascinating. It's called "Josef6" by Benjamin Kerstein, and deals with a claimed time-traveller from the future posting messages to an online community, and all the cultish madness that follows on.
The peril of science fiction is that it attracts the worst kind of lunatics
-- those prepared to believe not only their own delusions but each others. The
frenzied construction of delusional architectures of thought is a fascinating
talent, and one which reached its pinnacle in the late twentieth century.
Sounds familiar, Burisch fans? Though it's not strictly a Voynich novel per se, I really quite enjoyed it (and even donated $5 to the author via PayPal for posting it up). Recommended! :-)

Friday, 20 June 2008

How many Voynichologists does it take to change a light bulb?

It's a sad (but true) observation that most webpages (and particularly blog posts) on the VMs are serious, dull, dry, high-minded, conceptual guff, at best offering up a semi-quirky restatement of either the Wikipedia page, Rene Zandbergen's page, or of Gordon Rugg's hypothesis-of-possibility. You would scarce believe, dear reader, what oceans of cack I have to swim through to reach the occasional archipelago of Voynich-related interest... *sigh*

And so it is with great pleasure that I landed upon the shore of this gently satirical review of The Holy Blood and The Holy Grail. Read it and enjoy!

As for the rest of the Voynichian web, it is (sadly) pretty much uniformly humourless, with the joyous exception of the excellent Uncyclopedia Voynich Manuscript entry, which has been heavily updated since I mentioned it last year (though I'm pleased to see the "medieval VCR manual" gag is still there). Recommended!

PS: the answer to the question is (of course) "None, they like being in the dark."

Saturday, 14 June 2008

Voynich and PhD people...

I recently stumbled upon an active Voynich researcher I'd never heard of: Angela Catalina Ghionea (note that, even though Internet Explorer throws up lots of warnings for her website, it's basically OK), who is a teaching assistant and 3rd year PhD student in the History Department at Purdue University.

She's is "currently focused on the most mysterious manuscript in the world, The 'Voynich Manuscript' ", and is preparing an article called "Understanding the Voynich Manuscript. New Evidence for a Genuine Alphabet, Shamanic Imagery, and Magical Plants". Her recent presentations at various conferences include:-
  • "Voynich Manuscript and its Genuine Alphabet" (12 April, HGSA 2008 Conference, Purdue)
  • "Understanding the "Voynich", the Most Mysterious Manuscript in the World. American Shamanism and Exotic Plants" (29 March at the OAH 2008 Annual Meeting, New York, Hilton Hotel)
  • "Contributions to Voynich Manuscript's Mystery" (24 March 2008, MARS Conference, Purdue)
  • "Voynich Manuscript is not a Hoax. Uncovering New Evidence" (Purdue, 29 January 2008)
All of which I hope to see very soon (and to review here). But this set me wondering: how many other people with PhD's have looked at the Voynich? I drew up a quick list (let me know if there are more), but there are plenty of familiar faces...
  • William Romaine Newbold
  • John Manly (love the cigar story!)
  • Leonell Strong (love that facial hair / collar combination)
  • Derek de Solla Price
  • Jim Reeds
  • Jacques Guy
  • Gabriel Landini
  • Jorge Stolfi
  • Gordon Rugg
  • Edith Sherwood
Though according to Dr C. S. Lewis Barrie PhD, the Voynich Manuscript is a medieval blog, which is why it makes no sense. Ah, bless.

Friday, 6 June 2008

"Verifying" the Verifier Method...

John Sweat's "The Anthropogene" is a nice 'lost history' blog I recently stumbled upon: what caught my eye was a post of his that mentioned the Voynich Manuscript and tried out Gordon Rugg's seven-step "Verifier Method". As this is what Rugg allegedly used when he made his famous "VMS is a hoax" claims in 2003/2004, I thought it perhaps should be examined in more detail. Sweat summarises Rugg's 7 steps as:-
  1. "Accumulate knowledge of a discipline through interviews and reading.
  2. Determine whether critical expertise has yet to be applied in the field.
  3. Look for bias and mistakenly held assumptions in the research.
  4. Analyze jargon to uncover differing definitions of key terms.
  5. Check for classic mistakes using human-error tools.
  6. Follow the errors as they ripple through underlying assumptions.
  7. Suggest new avenues for research that emerge from steps one through six."
All of which can, I think, be summarised even more brutally:-

  1. Engage with so-called "experts" and their writings
  2. Decide if those "experts" are indeed actually experts
  3. Do those experts have a particular agenda?
  4. Do the words they use get in the way?
  5. Are their theories basically built on sand?
  6. See how their errors beget other errors
  7. Work out the biggest issues, and continue until you've had enough
This seems to be describing intellectual history, which I would characterise as a thinky, "Florentine humanist"-style knowledge-critiquing methodology based around herding all the arguers in a field together, logically dismantling their arguments, and then using whatever is left standing to construct tentative explanations. Technically, the difference between intellectual history and the history of ideas is that the former tends to see ideas as actively shaped by agendas and as flowing between cultural frames of reference, while the latter tends to try to engage with ideas-in-themselves. (Having said that, the Wikipedia entry for history of ideas cites Michel Foucault as a sympathetic practitioner, yet he sees everything as a product of the agendas implicit in cultural frames of reference. But I digress!)

At its best, intellectual history throws up dazzling insights: in the hands of a master (such as the extraordinary Anthony Grafton), it can be a virtuoso performance of brain over matter, not unlike a QC's persuasive mastery of his or her brief. Yet at its worst, it can be a sterile exercise in intellectual futility, divorced from the world by its shallow insistence on examining only the participants and their claims, not the validity of the evidence expressed in the ideas, and so ending up in a kind of over-finessed, intricate superficiality.

As an example, even though Grafton's generally excellent book on Leon Battista Alberti shows precisely how Alberti's form and ideas flowed from classical topoi, I think Grafton perhaps takes the whole humanist conceit (that if we all wrote as well as Cicero the world would be a better place) a little bit too literally - whereas humanism was by and large more like a courtly Latinistic game of patronage - and as a result his book never really engages with Alberti the person.

If we bear this kind of thing in mind, it should be reasonably clear that Rugg's "Verifier Method" looks to verify not evidence qua contents but instead expert opinions qua methodology: a kind of faux legalistic framework, with the investigator as self-appointed armchair judge in his/her own kangaroo court, and with no power or desire to step outside into the real world.

In the case of the Voynich Manuscript (in case you were wondering when I'd ever mention it), I think the Verifier Method falls right at steps (1) and (2). Because Rugg's conceptual framework had no mechanism to critique evidence (in particular the various transcriptions of the text), and what separates experts in such an uncertain field is by and large their conception of what constitutes relevant evidence, Rugg has no intrinsic way of deciding who is (and who is not) an expert, let alone trying to infer their agendas (3) or to diagnose any linguistic/semantic difficulties (4)

Essentially, it seems to me that the Verifier Method relies so heavily on the underlying field being regular that it fails to be a satisfactory tool to apply to such irregular areas of study as the Voynich Manuscript. But the problem then is that regular fields of study tend not to need exploratory methods such as the Verifier Method to help traverse them.

Finally, I think that "Verifying" is such a weak aim of any knowledge methodology as to be virtually useless: as a strategy, all it really tries to elicit is some kind of limp correlation. The "Cardan Grille" nonsense that Rugg concocted to "verify" that the Dee/Kelly hoax hypothesis was "possible" is precisely such a thing: of course the hypothesis was possible, that's why it was a hypothesis, duh. Come on: when dealing with an uncertain field, when would the Verifier Method ever be preferable to Popper's Falsificationism, where you collect together plausible hypotheses and actively design experiments to try to kill them? Now that's what I call proper Popper science...

Saturday, 31 May 2008

Enigmatic Instrument...

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. 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. :-)

Friday, 18 April 2008

German skeptic conference...

At an upcoming skeptical conference in Darmstadt from 1-3 May 2008 (with a loosely Creationist / Intelligent Design / paranormal theme), the "scientist [and] author" Klaus Schmeh will be giving a talk on the Voynich Manuscript. There's a German blog entry here, in which Schmeh sets out his stall: which is that, basically, the VMs is (just as Gordon Rugg & Andreas Schinner have claimed) a 16th century hoax.

This kind of superficial category error sets my teeth on edge every time I encounter it: such people seem to think that a "hoax" explanation must somehow also be the most "skeptical". Actually, if they would bother to look at the object (rather than at the EVA transcriptions), they would find that the VMs has 15th century quire numbers, and a complex codicological history. Sixteenth century hoax theories requires that all those many layers of evidence be part of the hoax too: of course this is a "possibility", but multiplying the various unlikelinesses together, you end up with a dwindlingly small final probability.

Instead, a properly skeptical reading would say: "the presence of 15th century hand-writing in the quire numbers is a strong indication that the manuscript was made no later than 1500, while the presence of various art history features in the drawings points to an earliest date of around 1440. Explanations significantly outside this date range would require strong evidence to support them, which has not yet been found or demonstrated. And that's about as far as we can reasonably go at the moment."

What I'm getting at is that the hoax hypothesis displays the wrong kind of incredulity to be genuinely skeptical: it portrays the evidence itself as incredible, rather than "typical" Voynichian hypotheses (Cathar, Alien End-Times, Old Ukrainian, Baconian telescopy and microscopy, Leonardo etc) themselves as incredible. The curious Voynich solution mentioned in one of the comments to the German web-page on Schmeh seems to fall into this general category, sadly.

Wednesday, 5 March 2008

Dutch Voynich hoax bloggery...

I just stumbled across part 1 and part 2 of a long-ish Dutch blog entry on hoax theories of the Voynich Manuscript, specifically Gordon Rugg's Cardan grille nonsense. If, like me, you don't speak Dutch, note that Google Translate's Dutch-to-English translation appears not to be working, and so use FreeTranslation.com instead (which does work fine).

Actually, I do (thanks to Tanya) have a single Amsterdam survival phrase, which I learnt long before I was married: "Zeker niet, mevrouw: ik word getrouwd!" Anyway, moving swiftly on...

What tickled me about the Dutch bloggery was the fact that the people commenting on it were amused by f78r's "qokedy qokedy dal qokedy qokedy" sequence, with one of them asking "Wat dacht je van de smurfen?" All of which prompted (Proust-stylee) long-buried memories of the abysmal Smurf collectible figurines BP gave away as promotional items in the 1970s (and which are doubtless now worth the GDP of Morocco each) to surface. I just never dreamed I'd join Smurfs and the Voynich Manuscript in the same sentence. Life is strange.

Incidentally, 2008 marks the 50th anniversary of the Smurfs' burf: thankfully, the movie tie-in has been delayed to 2010 (though if we're really lucky, Paramount will cancel it first). But here's a blog entry on them that does ring true (oh, and here's a working Smurf Name Generator).

Wednesday, 27 February 2008

Two alternative histories vying for the mainstream...

One noticeable thing about the Voynich Manuscript is how theories and hypotheses in the 'cloud of the possible' surrounding it are perpetually trying to enter the mainstream consciousness. From Gordon Rugg's "Verifier" nonsense, to John Stojko's Old Ukrainian, to Leo Levitov's Cathar make-belief, even though they give it their best shot, the ramshackle pile of fairground cans they're aimed at mysteriously fails to topple.

But this is far from unusual: many other well-known alt.history topics have resisted the best attempts of the gifted and brilliant to bring them to heel. And seeing as two separate assaults on these had stepped into the limelight this week, I thought I'd blog away, see where it goes...

First up is a new assault on the secret history of the Knights Templar here, published as a series of DVDs: its author, Barry Walker, has been researching neolithic sites for decades, and claims to bring out a whole new connection between these and the Knights Templar. DVD#1 opens up a new cave in Royston (to go with the well-known Templar-esque cave that is a tourist spot already): the subsequent 11 DVDs planned are described in fairly open terms.

The problem with this is that if you have already read Sylvia Beamon's excellent "The Royston Cave: Used by Saints or Sinners?" (there's a well-thumbed copy on my shelf), you'd know (a) that Sylvia has long pointed to sites within Royston that should be examined; (b) that these are likely to be little more than abandoned cellars; and moreover (c) that according to most Templar historians, the UK was only ever of marginal interest (as compared to, say, Languedoc).

I'd love it to be true that there was some kind of subtle iconological connection between the Knights Templars and neolithic sites: but I have to say this is right at the edge of the possible, if not over it. To be honest, unless there's some truly amaaaaaazing evidence here, I think I'd rather buy into something a bit more plausibly mad (like the whole Titanic "insurance fraud" conspiracy theory) than this. All the same, a meagre £19.99 will buy you the first two DVDs of "The Quest": and I'm sure it would be an entertaining diversion, if you like that kind of thing.

Second up is a rather more pleasantly gritty work of historical obsession. Tudor Parfitt spent 20+ years trying to track down the lost Ark of the Covenant: and, incredibly, appears to have found its 700-year-old duplicate/replacement in Harare. His book ("The Lost Ark of the Covenant", to be published on 3rd March 2008 by HarperCollins) details the driven and (unavoidably) Indiana Jones-esque path he took along the way.

I've got a lot of sympathy with the 'verie parfit Tudor': he has clamped the meagre historical clues available to him in his bulldog-like jaws, and repeatedly stepped sideways with the subtle literary and DNA evidence available to him to give them colour, shape, depth - and hopefully to find the truth behind them all, whatever it happens to be. Though the hardback is £18.99 (if, inevitably, cheaper at Amazon etc), it's something I'll definitely be ordering: and will (of course) review here.

Saturday, 9 February 2008

Introduction to the Voynich Manuscript...

Every few days, I get asked to recommend a good introduction to the Voynich Manuscript (the 'VMs' for short). But each time this happens, my heart sinks a little: given the size and scope of historical research you'd need to have to properly grasp the subject, it's a bit like being asked to recommend a good 5-page encyclopaedia. Or rather, as none such exists, like being asked to write one.

However, you can describe it in a paragraph: it's a handwritten book that's 230+ pages long, very probably about 500 years old, and filled with strange words and obscure pictures no-one can understand. I call it "a Scooby Doo mystery for grownups", but one where everyone is trying to pin the blame on a different janitor: and so the story loops endlessly, as if on a lost satellite cartoon channel.

For once, the Wikipedia Voynich Manuscript page falls well short of being genuinely useful: the VMs is so contested, so politicized, so intensely rubbish that the whole neutral tone Wiki-thing fails to please (I gently satirized this in my VQ questionnaire). Bucketfuls of worthlss opinions, and endless pussyfooting around: throw all that junk away, I say, and start from scratch. *sigh*

But if Wikipedia's faux-scientific neutrality can't get you started, what can? If (like me) you are a fan of Ambrose Bierce's "The Devil's Dictionary" (1911), your ideal introduction to the Voynich Manuscript might well be succinct, partial, and cynical (in fact, almost toxically so). In this vein, I heartily recommend "Folly Follows the Script", an article by Jacques Guy (AKA "Frogguy") in the Times Higher Education supplement from 2004. While ostensibly reviewing Kennedy and Churchill's recent book on the VMs, Guy rips apart a lot of the pretension and falsity that now surrounds the manuscript, in particular Gordon Rugg's much-vaunted (but actually resoundingly hollow) hoax papers. Which is, errrm, nice.

If you prefer lots and lots (and did I say lots?) of data, the best introductory site by miles is Rene Zandbergen's excellent voynich.nu, in particular his "short tour", and the even shorter tour. But frankly, it's hard for most people to care about Newbold, Petersen, Friedman, Strong, Brumbaugh, O'Neill, Feely, Manly, and even John "The Brig" Tiltman unless you've already lurched over the line into Voynich-obsessive mania: none of them could read a word of the VMs, and they're all long dead.

Alternatively, if you prefer a kind of gentle postmodern defeatism, I could happily recommend a very readable article by Lev Grossman called "When Words Fail", which first appeared in Lingua Franca magazine way back in April 1999: sadly, nothing much of substance has changed in the intervening decade (or, indeed, over several preceding decades too).

This might seem a horrible thing to say, given that so much ink has been spilled (and, more recently, so many HTML tags wasted) on the VMs over the last century in the honest pursuit of this wonderful (yet devastatingly cruel) enigma. But we still know next to nothing of any real use: the kind of intensely Warburgian art-historical research I've been slaving over for the last six years seems totally alien to most 'Voynichologists', a title that perpetually hovers too close to David Kahn's Baconian "enigmatologists" (see "The Codebreakers" (1967), pp.878-9), with their "deliriums, the hallucinations of a sick cryptology".

All of which is to say that both cynicism and nihilism are probably good starting points for reading up on the VMs: a century of careless credulity has got us all nowhere. But this is not to say that I am pessimistic about any advances being made. In fact, I would say that "the Devil's in the details" or the alternative "God is in the details" (both of which are sometimes attributed to Aby Warburg!) to flag that, beyond the superficial flurry of foolish and wishful opinions out there, I think there are things we can (and eventually will!) know about the Voynich Manuscript; but that for the moment these remain hidden in its vellum margins.

All of which is another story entirely...

Friday, 4 January 2008

Yet another Voynich novel...

Literature and the Voynich Manuscript remain uneasy bedfellows: whereas things like the Knights Templar or even (spare me, oh Lord!) medieval precursors of speculative masonry have a body of archives and associated respectable academics, the Voynich Manuscript has Rene Zandbergen and not much else. It's all a bit empty in Voynichland, credential-wise. :-(

Yet Voynichologists rarely have much of an interest in novels: and anyway, they don't (as a group) exactly amount to anything that might sensibly be called "influential". So: novels making use of the Voynich Manuscript would have to be aimed at the mainstream, while simultaneously providing a mini-introduction to the (real) VMs to bring readers up to speed. I have to say that this seems a fairly awkward mix, which would only work under certain conditions.

By way of comparison, the joy of "The Rule of Four" to me was that its two authors were trying to bring art history to life - but really, they were non-typical novelists, weaving a very particular kind of novel around the fascinating Hypnerotomachia Poliphili. If their next novel turns out to be based on the Voynich Manuscript, I think they would probably be able to carry it off: but I have to sound the warning that most other novelists would probably fail.

(Another danger is that a tiny piece of evidence emerges about the VMs before your novel finally goes to press [there's usually a horribly long lead time in publishing] which causes one or more of the art historical assumptions you've used throughout the book to collapse abruptly. )

Anyway... "The Voynich Covenant" by "ex-special agent" Richard D. Weber is currently up for grabs for publishers: some foreign language rights have already been sold (good news for Bulgarian Voynich-novel-o-philes). There's more on the author's "dark protocols" website (if you can stand the visual clutter). Going through his book pitch, my heart inevitably sank just a little when an enigmatic stranger called "R. C. Christian" and a Jesuit priest (a hearty staple of Victorian penny dreadfuls: at least Dan Brown had the sense to upset Opus Dei instead) each pop up, but what can you do? To me, part of the thrill of the novel is seeing how its author takes a set of cliches and sets them on fire: but put too many of them in a row (like "beautiful forensic profiler Madison Chase") and will it ever catch ablaze?

What should we call all these novels? 'Voy-niche' publishing? As a publisher myself (albeit on a small scale), I find the whole idea quite awful: the Voynich Manuscript still falls short of being a cliche well-known enough for a novelist to be able to turn on its head with any dramatic effect. It's too marginal: the last big mainstream VMs view (Gordon Rugg's Cardan Grille fakery) punted out there was unhelpful at best, nonsensical at worst, and fell far short of setting the world alight - basically, Rugg's 'no-message message' is not really a great premise for a novel. Wired (bless them and their ex-NASA cotton socks) should do a piece on my book instead: Averlino's story is more amazing than fiction. But that's the beauty of the truth, isn't it? ;-p