Navigating Voynich Manuscript f1r...

Seeing the Voynich Manuscript for the first time is quite an intimidating experience: you're looking at something which is so uncertain in so many different ways - how should you try to "read" it?

In general, when you look at a page of text, you do two different types of reading: (1) you work out how everything is laid out (you navigate the page) and (2) you read what is contained within it (you read the text). In computer science terms, you could describe the layout conventions and text conventions as having two quite separate 'grammars'.

For instance, if you picked up a Hungarian newspaper, I would predict that you would stand a good chance of being able to work out its structure, even though you may not be able to understand a single word. It's perfectly reasonable, then, to be able to navigate a page without being able to read it.

What's not widely known about the Voynich Manuscript is that researchers have identified many of the navigational elements that structure the text (even though they cannot actually read them). I thought it might be helpful to post about these (oh, and I'm getting emails mildly berated me for posting too much about the wrong 'v', i.e. that it's not "Vampire News").

As a practical example, let's look at the very first page of the manuscript proper: this has the name "f1r" (which means "the recto [front] side of folio [double-sided page] #1"). You may also see this referred to as "f001r" (some people use this naming style so that their image files get sorted nicely), or even as "1006076.sid" (this is the Beinecke Rare Book & Manuscript Library's internal database reference for the high-resolution scan of f1r, which they store as a kind of highly compressed image). This is what f1r looks like:-

Note that the green splodges aren't actually part of the page itself - they're green leaves painted onto the reverse side of the folio (that is, on f1v, "folio #1 verso [back]") that happen to be visible through the vellum. I'll leave the issue of whether this is because the paint is too thick or the vellum is too thin to another day...

If we use a tricky colour filter written by Jon Grove (more on it here), we can make a passable attempt at removing the green splodges: and if we then bump up the contrast to make everything a little clearer, we can get a revised image of f1r:-


Red areas: these form the first four paragraphs of the text. These often start with one of four large vertical characters (known as "gallows characters"), and appear to have been written from top-left down to bottom-right, as you would English, French, Latin etc.

Blue areas: these are known as "titles", and are typically right-aligned words or short phrases added to the end of paragraphs. It has been proposed that the text contained in these might actually be section titles (which seems fairly reasonable). There's a brief discussion on this by (a differently spelled!) John Grove here, who first suggested the term.

Yellow area: this is a cipher key arranged vertically down the right hand side of the page that someone has written in (and only partially filled before giving up) in a 16th century hand. Though a bit indistinct, you can still make out "a b c d e" at the top left and a few other letters besides.

Bright green areas: these odd shapes appear nowhere else, and are generally referred to as "weirdoes" (for want of a better name). Interestingly, these are picked out in bright red: f67r2 is the only other place with red text that I can think of (the page that was originally on the front of what is now Quire 9).

Dull green area: this is where the earliest proven owner wrote his signature (something like "Jacobus de Tepenecz, Prag", though it is very hard to make out), which a subsequent owner appears to have (quite literally) scrubbed off the page (if you look carefully, you can see what appears to be two or more watermarks at the edges of the area). The question of why someone would want to do this is a matter for another day...

Pink area: hidden in the top right corner next to some wormholes and the folio number ("1", in a sixteenth century hand) is a very faint picture, possibly of a bird. Surprisingly, this subtle piece of marginalia doesn't appear in GC's otherwise-very-good gallery of Voynich marginalia: so here's an enhanced picture of it so you can see what I'm talking about:-.

So, even if we can't yet read f1r's text, can we navigate its layout? I believe we can! From the presence of red text, I'm fairly certain it was the first page of a quire: and from the signature and weathering, I don't see any reason to think this was ever bound anywhere apart from at the front of the manuscript. This leads me to predict that the set of four paragraphs forms an index to the manuscript as a whole, and so very probably describe four separate "books" or "works", where the "title" (appended to the end of the paragraph) is indeed the title of that book.

If you were looking for cribs to crack the titles :-) , my best guess is that the first book (section) is a herbal, the second book is on the stars (astronomy and astrology), the third book is on water, while the fourth book comprises recipes and secrets. I also suspect that this index page was composed about three-quarters of the way through the project, and that the (really quite strange) Herbal-B pages were added in a subsequent phase. But, once again, that's another story entirely...

The Book of Soyga, revisited...

It's a nice historical detective story, one kicked off by John Dee, Frances Yates' favourite Elizabethan 'magus' (though I personally suspect Dee's 'magic' was probably less 'magickal' than it might appear), when he claimed to have told an angel that his "great and long desyre hath byn to be hable to read those tables of Soyga". Dee lost his precious copy of the "Book of Soyga" (but then managed to find it again): when subsequently Elias Ashmole owned it, he noted that its incipit (starting words) was "Aldaraia sive Soyga vocor...".

However, since Ashmole's day it was thought to have joined the serried, densely-stacked ranks of long-disappeared books and manuscripts, in the "blue-tinted gloom" of some mythical, subterranean library not unlike the "Cemetery of Lost Books" in Carlos Ruiz Zafon's novel "The Shadow of the Wind" (2004)...

Fast-forward 400 years to 1994, and what do you know? Just like rush hour buses, two copies of the "Book of Soyga" turn up at once, both found by Deborah Harkness. Rather than searching for "Soyga", she searched for its "Aldaraia..." incipit: which is, of course, what you were supposed to do (in the bad old days before the Internet).

It is a strange, transitional document, neither properly medieval (the text has few references to authority) nor properly Renaissance. There are some mysterious books referenced, such as the Liber Sipal and the Liber Munob: readers of my book "The Curse of the Voynich" may recognize these as simple back-to-front anagrams (Sipal = Lapis [stone], Munob = Bonum [Good], Retap Retson = Pater Noster [our Father]). In fact, Soyga itself is Agyos [saint] backwards.

But what was the secret hidden behind the 36 mysterious "tables of Soyga" that had vexed John Dee so? 36x36 square grids filled with oddly patterned letters, they look like some kind of unknown cryptographic structure. Might they hold a big secret, or might they (like many of Trithemius' concealed texts) just be nonsense, a succession of quick brown foxes endlessly jumping over lazy dogs?

• oyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoy
  rkfaqtyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyo
  rxxqnkoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoy
  azzsxbqtyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyo
  sheimasddtguoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoy
  eyuaoiismspkfaqtyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyo
  enlxflfudzrxxqnkoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoy
  sxcahqczfbtfzsxbqtyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyo
  azepxhheurgmyknqnkoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoy
  rlbriyzycuyddpotxbqtyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyo
  ryrezabirhdiszeknqnkoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoy
  ogzgfceztqalpntsxhssyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyo
  opnxxsnodxqhuekknykkoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoy
  rcqsfueesfsqrqgqrossyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyo
  roauxmdkkxkhyhmpzqphdtgtguoyoyoyoyoy
  aqxmudiamubkoqifbszktdmspkfaqtyoyoyo
  sazoesrmlrnaqnzhgabmsmlpeahfsddtguoy
  ....................................
  (etc)

Jim Reeds, one of the great historical code-breakers of modern times, stepped forward unto the breach to see what he could make of these strange tables: he transcribed them, ran a few tests, and (thank heavens) worked out the three-stage algorithm with which they were generated.

Stage 1: fill in the 36-high left-hand column (which I've highlighted in blue above) with a six-letter codeword (such as 'orrase' for table #5, 'Leo') followed by its reverse anagram ('esarro'), and then repeat them both two more times

Stage 2: fill each of the 35 remaining elements in the top line in turn with ((W + f(W)) modulo 23), where W = the element to the West, ie the preceding element. The basic letter numbering is straightforward (a = 1, b = 2, c = 3, ... u = 20, x = 21, y = 22, and z = 23), but the funny f(W) function is a bit arbitrary and strange:-

• x f(x) x f(x) x f(x) x f(x)
  a...2, g...6, n..14, t...8
  b...2, h...5, o...8, u..15
  c...3, i..14, p..13, x..15
  d...5, k..15, q..20, y..15
  e..14, l..20, r..11, z...2
  f...2, m..22, s...8

Stage 3: fill each row in turn with ((N + f(W)) modulo 23), where N = the element to the North, ie the element above the current element.

For example, if you try Stage 2 out on 'o', (W + f(W)) modulo 23 = (14 + 8) modulo 23 = 22 = 'y', while (22 + 15) modulo 23 = 14 = 'o', which is why you get all the "yoyo"s in the table above.

And there (bar the inevitable miscalculations of something so darn fiddly, as well as all the inevitable scribal copying mistakes) you have it: the information in the Soyga tables is no more than the repeated left-hand column keyword, plus a rather wonky algorithm.

You can read Jim Reeds paper here: a full version (with diagrams) appeared in the pricy (but interesting) book John Dee: Interdisciplinary essays in English Renaissance Thought (2006). The End.

Except... where exactly did that funny f(x) table come from? Was that just, errrm, magicked out of the air? Jim Reeds never comments, never remarks, never speculates: effectively, he just says 'here it is, this is how it is'. But perhaps this f(x) sequence is in itself some kind of monoalphabetic or offseting cipher to hide the originator's name: Jim is bound to have thought of this, so let's look at it ourselves:-

• 1.2.3.4..5.6.7.8..9.10.11.12.13.14.15.16.17.18.19.20.21.22.23
  2.2.3.5.14.2.6.5.14.15.20.22.14..8.13.20.11..8..8.15.15.15..2

If we discount the "2 2" at the start and the "8 8 15 15 15 2" at the end as probable padding, we can see that "14" appears three times, and "5 14" twice. Hmm: might "14" be a vowel?

• 2 3 5 14 2 6 5 14 15 20 22 14 8 13 20 11 8
• a b d n a e d n o t x n g m t k g
• b c e o b f e o p u y o h n u l h
• c d f p c g f p q x z p i o x m i
• d e g q d h g q r y a q k p y n k
• e f h r e i h r s z b r l q z o l
• f g i s f k i s t a c s m r a p m
• g h k t g l k t u b d t n s b q n
• h i l u h m l u x c e u o t c r o
• i k m x i n m x y d f x p u d s p
• k l n y k o n y z e g y q x e t q
• l m o z l p o z a f h z r y f u r
• m n p a m q p a b g i a s z g x s
• n o q b n r q b c h k b t a h y t
• o p r c o s r c d i l c u b i z u
• p q s d p t s d e k m d x c k a x
• q r t e q u t e f l n e y d l b y
• r s u f r x u f g m o f z e m c z
• s t x g s y x g h n p g a f n d a
• t u y h t z y h i o q h b g o e b
• u x z i u a z i k p r i c h p f c
• x y a k x b a k l q s k d i q g d
• y z b l y c b l m r t l e k r h e
• z a c m z d c m n s u m f l s i f
  

Nope, sorry: the only word-like entities here are "tondean", "catsik", and "zikprich", none of which look particularly promising. This looks like a dead end... unless you happen to know better? ;-)

A final note. Jim remarks that one of the manuscripts has apparently been proofread, with "f[letter]" marks (ie fa, fb, fc, etc); and surmises that the "f" stands for "falso" (meaning false), with the second letter the suggested correction. What is interesting (and may not have been noted before) is that in the Voynich Manuscript, there's a piece of marginalia that follows this same pattern. On f2v, just above the second paragraph (which starts "kchor...") there's a "fa" note in a darker ink. Was this a proof-reading mark by the original author (it's in a different ink, so this is perhaps unlikely): or possibly a comment by a later code-breaker that the word / paragraph somehow seems "falso" or inconsistent? "kchor" appears quite a few times (20 or so), so both attempted explanations seem a bit odd. Something to think about, anyway...

What, *another* Voynich novel?

Another Voynich-inspired (I'm yet sure whether or not "Voynich-themed" might be putting it a bit strongly) novel to add to the ever-fattening Big Fat List. Australian writer Matt Rubinstein's novel was called "A Little Rain on Thursday" (the picture is from f75r) when it was published last June in Oz by Text Publishing: it appeared here last July (published by Quercus) under the title "Vellum". Amazon Marketplace has copies for £1.98 + £2.75 UK p&p: I've ordered one & will post a review here ASAP. It doesn't appear to have any evil Jesuit priests in it, which has to be A Very Good Thing Indeed.

What's sort of appealing (well - to me, at least) is the way he casually slips the words "marginalia" and "forensic" into the cover blurb. However, this may well be a weakness, given that to keep him fed and watered in writerland, his book has to sell to a large number of non-Voynicheros, to whom such things are usually fairly alien (even if they do watch CSI).

Oh, and the stuff in the story about the manuscript decipherer being obsessive may also have alienated him from passing VMs-ologists. We're not obsessive, I tell you: we count the number of stars on each section of each page for scientific reasons, damnit! Errrrrrrrrrm...

...maybe he's got a point. Oh well... :-((((

"Das Voynich Blog" (reading German can be easy sometimes)

Here's a link to Elias Schwerdtfeger's very interesting "Das Voynich Blog".

Elias has worked really hard behind the scenes to find ways of visualising the statistics expressing what "old hand" Voynichologists (such as, say, Philip Neal & I) see when we look at the Voynich - you know, the highly bonded, multi-level internal structure that exists at the stroke, character, glyph, digraph, word, line, paragraph, page and section levels.

As an aside, I've long disagreed with Renaissance encipherment hypotheses for the VMs based on moving alphabets, specifically because they fundamentally destroy these kinds of internal structure: the only way to keep such hypotheses alive is then to argue (as, for example, my old friend GC does) that these structures are part of the "surface language", i.e. that the encipherer is dynamically stretching his plaintext to mimic these structures in the ciphertext. Yes, it's possible, but... put all the pieces together and it's a bit too much of a stretch for me.

Incidentally, I've been looking at f2v recently, specifically because of the "fa" marginalia there (one of the very few marginalia I didn't really cover in my book, "The Curse of the Voynich"). Elias discusses f2v at some length, proposing the eminently sensible (and testable) hypothesis that the same pe(rso)n that/who made the dubious (o)ish(i) emendation to the last line of f2v also added the "fa" marking above the second paragraph. They're both in similar darker ink (which is a good start): but I think that the Beinecke's scans - though fantastic for most purposes - fall just short of being able to resolve this kind of question definitively.

Actually, I've got a list of about 50 similar/related cross-indexing questions like that I'd like to address (say, by multispectral imaging or Raman imaging) in the future. But for now, that project is stalled (because the Beinecke turned my proposals down). Oh well: maybe next year...