Okay, I finally got around to do a little bit of number crunching on my beloved Stroke theory.
In an nutshell, it’s not exactly a landslide victory I achieved, but the results are not nearly disparaging enough for me to give up…

Okay, I finally got around to do a little bit of number crunching on my beloved Stroke theory.
In an nutshell, it’s not exactly a landslide victory I achieved, but the results are not nearly disparaging enough for me to give up…

Among the huge amounts of feature in the VM which have stumped its students, there is one which is perhaps of even bigger stumpitude than the average stumpster, and this are the tags or “labels” which the author/illustrator of the VM so copiously added to the book. But perhaps these labels aren’t words as is usually thought.

Not long ago, the writer of these lines, “in the mad pride of intellectuality”, underwent the enterprise of setting up this blog.
Shortly thereafter (obviously, else it would be an event of the future) Nick Pelling wrote a very kind review about my blog. He even went as far as calling me “a friend”, regardless of the fact that he still makes me pay for his books.
Anyway, in a side remark he suggested I might delve into a discussion of the Sagittarius’ archer’s crossbow. (Hope I got the apostrophe’s right.) I’m not sure what might qualify me for this topic, except for a certain tendency of rhetorically sniping other people’s ideas. But I recalled having colaborated some time ago in the translation of Jens Sensfelder’s article on this very subject. (Jens’ conclusion was, in a nutshell, that it’s probably a late medieval/early renaissance crossbow with few spectacular features.) So I dug into my digital cellars, came finally up with the scans of a crumpled printout of Jens’ manuscript (the original file long since having been lost), and without much ado posted it in this blog.
Four days later Nick himself announced that he has posted the original article himself in his blog. Power to the man, because back in 2003 he was involved in the translation of the article as well (which I had completely forgotten), so he has every right to do that. (And he even still has the original files, because he’s better organized than I am.) But what escapes me is why he asked me about the article in the first place.
Sometimes I feel the people attracted to the Voynich are as hard to understand as the Voynich itself…
Anyway, in a nutshell, read all about the Crossbow here!
P.S.: I will not call Nick a friend, unless he starts buying my books.

Aside of the notorious sunflower, there are precious few plants from the VM’s herbal section which have been identified with any degree of certainty.
Here’s one from the German edition of the Wikipedia:
f56r (top) is associated with Drosera intermedia (bottom):


When browsing the VM, I noticed that f53r also bears a certain resemblance:

But what do I know about plantography…?

An experiment in terror.
Every now and then, a decipherment of the VM will be attempted which is based on the disctinction of very small differences between the individual characters. (One notorious example consists of the various accents found over the “ch” letter pairs.) These distinctions expand the VM character set and hence the degrees of freedom in translation attempts.
But where is the reasonable limit for this? How much must be attributed to variations in handwriting, and how much is actually an intended distinction? Follow me to the vaults, and study a little experiment in terror…

I’ll admit, I keep using the term word for groups of VM characters out of negligence and laziness. Of course, in all probability VM “words” are not the equivalent to plaintext words.

Do these two guys share the same tailor?


(Left: Crossbow archer from Sagittarius f73v, right: “Poor man” from Germany, middle of the 15th century, source: Hottenroth: Handbuch der deutschen Tracht. I’ll try to come up with a better scan.)
Note the headdo with the “scarf” protruding, the shape of the sleeves, the length of the frock, and the tight legs.
For a detailled discussion of the crossbow itself, see Jens Sensfelder’s analysis!
Edit: Okay, I’ve found the source, it’s the “Basel Danse Macabre” (Basler Totentanz), second row from the bottom, the leftmost “pair”. Unfortunately, the Wikipedia explains that the Danse Macabre was thoroughly “renovated” several times and adapted to the contemporary fashion each time, before it was essentially demolished in the early nineteenth century. All Hottenroth probably had access to was a copy from the time just before the demolition (which seems to be the picture in the WP), so its value as a source appears questionable. Dang it.
(Not to mention that it’s not a “poor man” but rather a musician.)
The great tragedy of Science — the slaying of a beautiful hypothesis by an ugly fact. (Thoms Henry Huxley)