THE VOYNICH MANUSCRIPT
The Voynich manuscript is an actual manuscript kept at Yale University.
In Vaults of Power, Parker does a pretty good job at summarizing what the Voynich manuscript is. He also tells Robyn about the code breaking efforts and about the discoverer of the eponymous manuscript, Wilfried Voynich. For now, if you want to learn about the Voynich in a fun way, trust him and read the excerpt below. Be sure to check back regularly as we upload more information.
In Vaults of Power, Parker does a pretty good job at summarizing what the Voynich manuscript is. He also tells Robyn about the code breaking efforts and about the discoverer of the eponymous manuscript, Wilfried Voynich. For now, if you want to learn about the Voynich in a fun way, trust him and read the excerpt below. Be sure to check back regularly as we upload more information.
EXCERPT
Robyn asks her business partner and lifelong friend Parker to do some research for her on the Voynich manuscript. This is what he comes up with (they’re on the phone, Robyn in the south of France, Parker in Florida): “World War II. High caliber cryptanalysts tried their hand on it.” “Why should we care?” “Because they would have spotted a hoax.” “Good enough.” “First, Hitler. His Ahnenerbe, the occult bureau, had a sub-group to decode the Voynich. He was also known to be looking actively for the decoder to the manuscript. “Second. The guys at Station X, outside London, who cracked the German Enigma machine during World War II? Cryptanalysts, cryptographers, linguists, you name it. They’d get together for fun after work and try to the crack the Voynich. Never got anywhere.” “These guys cracked the Enigma but couldn’t figure out the Voynich?” “Makes you think, right? But listen to this. Here in the US, the guy who broke the Japanese Purple code before World War II, and who’d become Special Assistant to the Director of the National Security Agency, guy named William Friedman. He and his wife are legends. They spent their whole life in cryptography and basically without them, who knows what goddamn language we’d be speaking now. Japanese or German. Remember, these people are paid government wages, right. Their inventions and discoveries belong to the government. Now their idea of fun when they’re done with their daytime job during World War II is to try and crack the Voynich. But years go by and they don’t make significant progress. So in the 60s they ask for permission to use a huge RCA computer to help them. Permission granted. They start designing the programs and stuff on the weekends and evenings. And when they’re about to launch their program—Boom. Access denied.” “Did Friedman publish a memoir or something?” “Nada.” Robyn stayed silent. Parker stayed silent. Finally Parker said, “Some of his colleagues, Voynich freaks. One of them got hit by a tram. Another died of the flu at the hospital. Another one committed suicide. People started talking about a curse.” People loved euphemisms. “I guess that means a couple interesting things,” Robyn recapped. “One, the Voynich manuscript is not a bunch of crap.” “I agree,” Parker said. “Cryptographers as good as Friedman or the guys at Station X would be able to tell right off the bat if it’s a hoax.” “Two, assuming the people who cut the Friedmans’ access to the RCA computer were government-“ “Which they had to be-” “This means the US government doesn’t want the Voynich to be decoded.” What could be on that manuscript that still mattered in the twentieth century? Robyn thought. “And that’s leaving the deaths out of the equation.” “Which we’re not.” “What else did you find out?” she said, ignoring his last remark. He’d know not to bring that up again. “The real stuff now.” He cleared his throat. “Here’s the big picture. First mention of the Voynich manuscript is in 1915-- “I thought 1912.” “You want the story or the facts?” “Facts.” “Okay then. Nineteen-fifteen. The Chicago Art Institute exhibits a collection belonging to Wilfried Voynich, a dealer of rare books. The exhibition includes the whole collection of manuscripts belonging to the Hapsburg family, straight from their Vienna castle, and ‘a work by Roger Bacon in cipher to which the key has never been discovered’. That’s a description from the Chicago Daily Tribune. It’s the first mention of the Voynich manuscript.” “1915. Ok. […] Tell me about Voynich. The guy.” While Parker searched his notes, her thoughts drifted to her father. Why did you bring us here? What did you want from us? She strained to conjure his features. She remembered his build, his hands, his voice, but couldn’t command his face to her memory. Her mother’s, she could. The tilt of the head, her eyes. Her smell made of perfume and makeup and love. But it was her father’s face that she needed now, and it kept eluding her. Why do I always feel let down? “Wilfried Voynich,” Parker said. “Polish. Born 1865. Poor. Studied chemistry in Moscow. Got involved with the Polish nationalist movement. Spent two years in prison for that, was moved to Siberia, escaped and made it to London. In little time had a huge catalogue of rare books and a respected position in London.” “From poor Polish chemist to political activist to prisoner in Siberia to fugitive to top of the food chain on the London art market. In how long?” “The time it would take to get a Masters. Or a PhD, max.” “Takes sense of opportunity.” “And guts.” “And creativity.” “Contacts.” “Imagination.” “I don’t believe a word he says,” Parker dropped. “’Course not.” […] “What’s his story about the manuscript?” she asked. “He said he found it in 1912, in a castle outside Rome, called Villa Mondragone. The castle belonged to Jesuits. They were hurting for money. He bought a case of old books from them so they could pay for new ones.” “The Jesuits? Hurting for money?” “Made me wonder too.” “They did get in trouble with the Vatican,” she thought out loud. “That might explain. Not sure when exactly.” “I can check.” “What else?” “Supposedly there was a letter inside the Voynich manuscript.” The sound of ruffled pages, then Parker said, “From a Jesuit, Joannes Marcus Marci of Cronland, to another Jesuit, Athanasius Kircher. Dated 1666. In the letter Marci asks Kircher, the polymath, for his help in deciphering a manuscript he received from a friend. Basically, the letter states some hearsay about the provenance of the book and names the author as Roger Bacon, the Englishman.” [read the Marci letter here] “Roger Bacon,” Robyn said then started thinking. A Franciscan monk, most brilliant mind of the thirteenth century. Pioneer of scientific reasoning. Author of works on mathematics, alchemy and optics. Anticipated flying machines and steam boats, among other things. Was accused of sorcery. Had to write chained to his desk or something like that. Why would the US government prevent the decoding of anything he would have written? It simply didn’t make sense. “Voynich waited until 1921 to mention the Marci letter,” Parker dropped. She couldn’t believe it. “You mean it was not displayed at the Chicago Exhibition in 1915?” “No.” “Not even mentioned?” “Uh-uh.” “Oh boy.” It was standard procedure to display or publish any enlightening document that came with a manuscript at the time of its discovery or acquisition. Especially in the case of a letter from one scholar to another and relating to provenance and possible authors. A basic rule broken again. “Any other facts?” Robyn asked. “The Voynich manuscript had several owners since 1912, and some of its pages, eight or so I think, are missing. It’s currently owned by Yale’s Rare Book and Manuscript Library, Beinecke. Beinecke refused to let the document be scientifically dated for decades.” “Come on.” “They finally let two teams date the vellum through carbon 14 and the ink.” “And…?” “And the results have not been properly published.” “How about that.” “I know.” “Back to square one,” she said. “There’s only one thing that cryptanalysts, linguists, and computer wizards agree on: it was written by two people, who were not insane, in a human language.” Back to top Read the Marci letter now Home |
RESOURCES
The Voynich manuscript belongs to the Beinecke Rare Book and Manuscript Library at Yale University and is not accessible to the general public. You can read about the library on this website, or visit Beinecke library online here or in person just like Robyn does in Vaults of Power. A facsimile of the Voynich Manuscript was printed by French publisher Jean-Claude Gawsewitch but is currently out of print: this is the coffee-table book Robyn takes a look at while at the hospital. Visit other websites, like Wikimedia for pdfs of the whole manuscript, or this website, voynich.nu which is possibly the most comprehensive on the subject, or this one, voynich.net, or this blog, voynichthoughts, entirely dedicated to the Voynich manuscript. These two books are probably the most authoritative on the topic: Gerry Kennedy & Rob Churchill, The Voynich Manuscript (Orion) Mary E. d’Imperio, The Voynich Manuscript: an Elegant Enigma (Aegean Park Press) You can jump directly to the The Marci letter here. Finally, if you're interested in ciphers, be sure to check Simon Singh, The Code Book, (anchor Books) |