the ‘Pharma’? section – Catalogue mode.

two posts prior:

I HAD MEANT to revisit artefacts as represented in drawings from the ‘leaf-and-root’ section, but this is a convenient place to add another horizon-broadening topic/possibility/avenue for enquiry – the matter of commerce.

I think it significant that, though so much of the manuscript is about plants, there’s no obvious interest in the animal and/or mineral products so important for Europe’s medicines and its late-Renaissance alchemy.

Elsewhere, and especially in ‘eastern parts’ (to quote Baresch), we do find a greater reliance on purely plant-based products, including medicines and even in old Cairo – once a major hub of the east-west trade – a list of the top ten medicinal substances used by the Jewish population is plant-based, and are among goods recorded used in western Europe. A list of the ten is included (as Table 1) in a valuable paper:

  • Zohar Amar and Efraim Lev, ‘The Significance of the Genizah’s Medical Documents for the Study of Medieval Mediterranean Trade’, Journal of the Economic and Social History of the Orient, Vol. 50, No. 4 (2007), pp. 524-541.

NOTE – for any long-term researchers who remember my plant-identifications, I should add that I had not read Lev’s article before explaining one drawing as representing the ‘myrobalans’ group, or accepting Dana Scott’s identification of the rose in another folio.  Scott did not publish his work independently online, and his contributions are now available  at their source only to members of  Rich Santacoloma’s mailing list. I have Rich’s word that he intends to do as Jim Reeds did before him and offer the past conversations as a searchable database – when time and other pressures might permit him. 

In recent years much scholarly attention has been turned to the role of trade and commerce in widening medieval Europe’s horizons. In 2014 this growing interest prompted the University of Illinois to launch a new journal, The Medieval Globe, to “bring into view phenomena that have been rendered practically or conceptually invisible by anachronistic boundaries, categories, and expectations”.

As another writer puts it,

In the years since 2001, there has been a flood of studies seeking to combat .. parochialism and highlight the cultural fluidity and porous boundaries that existed between the various ethnic and religious sects that populated the medieval Mediterranean.  [Scholars] have convincingly shown the Mediterranean as a fragmented terrain imbued with strands of cultural hybridity.

  • Bruce P. Flood, Jr., ‘Sources and Problems in the History of Drug Commerce in Late Medieval Europe, Pharmacy in History, Vol. 17, No. 3 (1975), pp. 101-105.

Other paragraphs from that paper could almost serve as a blueprint for revisiting Newbold’s ‘pharma’ theory. Flood writes,

One important source for information on drug commerce in the late Middle Ages are the drug inventories and price lists (usually compiled for the purposes of taxation and the settling of estates) of several of the Italian and German cities. Examination of some of the information which these documents yield raises a number of questions for future research in the history of drug commerce, as well as indicating some of the problems encountered in dealing with these sources…

One major problem encountered immediately is that since most of the imported items also had other uses, such as spices for culinary purposes, various gums, oils and resinous substances for religious and cosmetic needs, it is impossible to separate drugs as such from the spice and luxury trade. Most of the spices came from Asia and India by sea or overland caravan routes from the Near East. Most gums and resinous products came from the coasts of East Africa, and there was also some trade from North Africa and Spain.

The coastal route of East Africa was that sailed in the fourteenth century by Ibn Battuta – as passenger – and regularly in the fifteenth century by Ibn Majid as master pilot. It is seen on a map in the previous post.

Leather-tanning is among the less-often considered uses for plants. A useful reference is here.

For the ‘leaf-and-root’ section, one question which might reward investigation is that of illustrated commercial lists – inventories, invoices, bills of lading (what Florentines called libri di mandate), taxation records and catalogues of various types.

Among these, within Europe, its herbals represented a catalogue of (usually) local plants, and the common Dioscordian-style herbals were sometimes on display as a medicine-maker’s ‘catalogue’ – the Anicia Juliana codex was probably used in that way for a time, if it is the volume reported as on display in the ‘Moor’s Head’ in Venice.

Correction (Sept.5th., 2021). There was an apothecary shop in Venice known as the ‘Moor’s Head’, but according the Thorndike, the incident was described as follows

“There, in the street of the spice-dealers, in a shop having as its sign the head of an Ethiopian, he had consulted an herbal in which the plants were represented so carefully and artfully that you would have thought they grew on its pages.”

Lynn Thorndike, History of Magic & Experimental Science, Vol.IV (p.599)about Pandolphus Collenucius of Pesaro’s time in Venice.

But so few of the Voynich images come from that western herbal tradition, as a century of failed efforts to ‘match’ them has proven – and notwithstanding the valiant effort made in the essay included in the Yale facsimile edition, which presents as a history of western herbals, adorned with clips from the Voynich manuscript – that the last word remains that pronounced by John Tiltman in 1968.

I’ve included two detailed analytical discussions of such ‘matches’. One treats O’Neill’s “sunflower” (see page in top bar) and the other treats a supposed ‘oak-and-ivy’ identification – see post ‘Retrospective justifications‘.

Proof that some commercial documents did include illustrations is offered by the example shown below. It is an invoice from the Datini archive (fondo Datini), whose documents cover the years 1363 to 1410 AD.

Image courtesy of the Fondo Datini. First introduced to Voynich studies in D.N. O’Donovan, ‘Avignon manuscripts – bottega versus scriptorium- 1309 to 1377’, voynichimagery, October 9th., 2015.

For linguists and cryptographers, the ‘merchants handbook’ genre may prove helpful, as texts of that kind include non-standard vocabularies, technical terms for commercial practices, local and foreign terms for weights and measures (as pronounced and written at the time), and place-names that have been since forgotten or replaced, or which are now rather differently spelled.

As Stanley says when speaking of Pegolotti’s ‘Guide for merchants’,

[The section] entitled Dichiarigioni … translates a host of commercial and nautical terms from Pegolotti’s native Tuscan Italian into twenty-two dialects spoken throughout the Mediterranean. Here, the reader becomes familiar with phraseologies in Arabic, Persian, Armenian, Cuman, even Trapezuntine – the local vernacular of Trebizond. The striking similarities found in Pegolotti’s translations (doana, for instance, denotes “tariff ” in the Arabic, Sicilian, Neapolitan, and Pugliese dialects) immediately conjure up the lingua franca, the amalgamation of Arabic and Romance vernaculars that served as a “language of convenience” in the pre-modern Mediterranean. According to Karla Mallette, this communicative tool – constantly shifting to meet local dialectic exigencies – served to transcend the linguistic divisions that stymied communication and functioned as a strong vehicle of acculturation (Mallette, 2014: 332).

  • Joseph F. Stanley, ‘Negotiating Trade: Merchant Manuals and Cross Cultural Exchange in the Medieval Mediterranean’ Frontiers: The Interdisciplinary Journal of Study Abroad, Vol. XXX, Issue 1, (January 2018): pp. 102-112.

  • Mallette, Karla. “Lingua Franca.” in Peregrine Horden, Sharon Kinoshita (eds.), A Companion to Mediterranean History.(2014). pp. 79-90.

Stanley’s article also includes a handy list of published examples:

And see:

  • Allan Evans, ed., Francesco Balducci Pegolotti: La pratica della mercatura (1936).

  • Alison Hanham, ‘A Medieval Scots Merchant’s Handbook’, The Scottish Historical Review, Oct., 1971, Vol. 50, No. 150, Part 2 (Oct., 1971), pp. 107-120.    The volume is described as ‘thirty-five vellum leaves sewn up in three gatherings into a small book measuring 31.1 X 9.5 cm.

  • George Christ, Trading conflicts : Venetian merchants and Mamluk officials in late medieval Alexandria (Brill: 2012)

I don’t normally list sources written in languages other than English since it’s the only language I can be sure all readers are comfortable with. In this case I must make an exception because there is nothing in English covering the Spanish merchant handbooks.

  • M. Gual Camarena, El primer manual hispánico de mercadena, siglo XV (Barcelona, 1981); The so-called Libre de conexenses de spicies – a manuscript in Catalan dating to 1455.

  • M. Gual Camarena, Vocabulario del comercio medieval (Barcelona, 1976), 200-202,

  • J. A. Sesma Muñoz and A. Líbano Zumalacarregui, Léxico del comercio medieval en Aragón (Siglo XV) (Zaragoza, 1.982), 81-82.

For myself, I don’t believe the whole ‘answer’ to the Voynich manuscript lies in such merchant handbooks. Illustrations in the zibaldoni are as plainly an expression of western Christian culture as images in the Voynich manuscript are not. Pace Gheuens and others, the Voynich manuscript contains none but a few peripheral allusions to Christian culture, while those western mercantile handbooks are very plainly a product of that environment, manifested in their written texts as in their illustrations.

There may be more hope from illustrated commercial ‘lists’ as invoices or bills of lading. One expects that any purchasing agent working in a distant port or market would be more likely to rely on local residents for his vocabulary and any images of local goods. To buy in a foreign market you need a way to name the desired goods, and to ensure that what you get is what you wanted. Caveat emptor was the ruling principle of medieval trade.

A rare insight into western agents abroad:

  • Deborah Howard, ‘Death in Damascus: Venetians in Syria in the Mid-Fifteenth Century’, Muqarnas, Vol. 20 (2003), pp. 143-157.

  • Robert Sabatino Lopez, ‘European Merchants in the Medieval Indies: The Evidence of Commercial Documents’, The Journal of Economic History , Nov., 1943, Vol. 3, No. 2 (Nov., 1943), pp.164-184. A seminal paper, still worth reading.

Two papers on echoes of eastern art in western medieval works.

  • Philippe Junod, ‘Retour sur l’Europe “chinoise”‘, Artibus et Historiae, Vol. 32, No. 63 (2011), pp. 217-258.

  • David Jacoby, Silk Economics and Cross-Cultural Artistic Interaction: Byzantium, the Muslim World, and the Christian West’, Dumbarton Oaks Papers, Vol. 58 (2004), pp. 197-240.

Since I’ve broached the subject of foreign agencies in distant ports and markets, and we’re discussing trade in vegetable products, I should add some brief notes on the conditions of trade east of Suez. I expect that any researcher having the necessary interest, and languages, won’t need any start-up bibliography, though, so will add none.


In an earlier post,* I quoted a passage describing how tax-assessors registered goods brought to Vietnam by sea. My source used an obsolete term – ‘Annam’ – to describe the greater coastal region of Vietnam, a term that is no longer used in modern secondary scholarship.

*D.N. O’Donovan, ‘Pharma’ Pt.2.i – the legend’, Voynich Revisionist (blogpost, 8th August 2021) citing Moti Chandra, Trade and Trade Routes in Ancient India (1977) p.206.

We are not told if any eastern inventory lists were illustrated but it is telling that they are said to be ‘on leather’.

About China, one website mentions that “two graves from the Han Dynasty (c. 202 BCE to c. 220 CE) contained ancient silk scrolls with references to 247 herbal substances used for medicinal purposes” and that “At the grave site of a doctor from the Later Han era (c. 25 to c. 220 CE), archaeologists found 92 wooden bamboo slips with pharmaceutical data which included a list of thirty prescriptions, referring to a hundred herbal medicines”. The site is anonymous and offers no references for that information.

I include it here chiefly because Marcus Marci’s letter of 1640 uses a term (schaedata) which, as Neal notes, is not in the classical dictionaries. On looking into it, I concluded that the word connects with the small wooden or papyrus slips once used as a ‘tag’-label for scrolls in Hellenistic and Roman libraries.

Books made of small wooden – or more exactly of palm-leaf – strips were once very widely used in regions beyond Europe, from North Africa through Arabia to the Himalayas and from India to south-east Asia. They are still used in some areas to this day and may take various forms, from the concertina-fold characteristic of Japanese and Chinese works on paper, to the wheel-form, or just a stack of strips pierced and linked at one or more points. Some palm-leaf books – especially those concerned with medicine or magic, were occasionally adorned with images.

It will be remembered that Georg Baresch said the information gathered in ‘eastern parts’ had been brought back and then copied (presumably on vellum) using the present Voynichese script and that no other European manuscript dated to before 1440 has yet been found in which there are long lengths folded in as we find in the Voynich manuscript.

Again in a commercial context we learn that the herbal-pharmaceutical genre known as Shennong Bencao jing (Shen Nong’s classic of Herbal Medicine), of which there were several versions, served as a basic forme for commercial documentation – tax assessment or to create bills of lading in areas under Chinese influence.

On the same point, the Bencao Gangmu ‘Compendium of Materia Medica’ which was produced during the Ming dynasty includes in addition to pharmaceutical information, information about biology, chemistry, geography, mineralogy, geology, history, mining and astronomy. This Bencao Gangmu has been translated into more than 20 languages and is still in print and used as a reference book.

A related work, Nong Shu, described as an agricultural text, includes a useful commercial object – a revolving typecase. Written by the Chinese official and agronomist Wang Zhen, the Nong Shu was published in 1313 AD. (image and information from ‘Chinese inventions’ – wiki article.

an image of Shen Nong

For reasons I don’t pretend to understand, the present regime in China does not like the herbal ‘Shen nong’ to be spoken about. Shen nong was the legendary creator of the far east’s herbal medicine tradition.

  • Shouzhong Yang,  The Divine Farmer’s Materia Medica: A Translation of the Shen Nong Ben Cao Jing (Blue Poppy Press. 2007).

Below is an illustration from a nineteenth-century account of Chinese medicines, one which retains the layout of the original works.

The diverse sites and pages maintained by CMU includes the following, which has a useful bibliography.

Nestorian influence is posited for the fact that the earlier [Shen-nong] Xinxiu bencao includes a recipe for theriaca.

Greek medicine is believed introduced into China by the Nestorians, whose influence is also seen by some scholars in works recovered from Dunhuang, in which the Greeks’ “four-element” theory and medical treatments are mentioned that similar to those practiced in ancient Greece. They also contain what is described vaguely as “certain Christian teachings concerning the sick”. An important study of Nestorian influence across early medieval China focuses on transmission of the eggplant (aubergine) but though I introduced this theme in my own research posts some time ago and treated it then in detail in discussing the presence of the Nestorians and Armenians in the medieval east, and the extant books of Nestorian medicine, I won’t repeat those references here. They are better left for posts about other sections.

Journey Books

To while away the tedium of long journeys, there was a genre of ‘journey books’, in which there was usually a combination of practical information, passages of one’s favourite epics or poetry and so on. In Persian, these were known as ‘Ark books’ (sefinat) and the poems of Hafiz were especially popular. In the west, the ‘Journal of Michael of Rhodes’ is a good example of the usual mix in Latin works.

It was in a very late sixteenth-century illustrated ‘catalogue’ of goldsmiths’ designs that I found the first evidence of any forms akin to anything in the ‘leaf and root’ section. Far too late to have influenced the Voynich manuscript, it is not entirely impossible that a reverse influence might have occurred. This is one for the ‘Rudolfine’ theorists because although these drawings were made before the designer, Erasmus Hornick, went to Rudolf’s court, he did die there.

Erasmus Hornick had been born and/or trained as a goldsmith-jeweller in Antwerp, then lived for some years in Augsburg (1555?-1559) before moving to Nurnberg (1559-1566) where he published his designs as pattern books. Returning Augsburg in 1566, he was later – during the last months of his life – appointed Hofwekstatt by Rudolf II (1582-3) with “the distinctly modest salary of six Guldern monthly”, to use Hayward’s phrase.

  • John Hayward, ‘The Goldsmiths’ Designs of the Bayerische Staatsbibliothek [Cod. Icon. No.I99] reattributed to Erasmus Hornick’, The Burlington Magazine, Vol. 110, No. 781 (Apr., 1968), pp. 201-207.

A closer, but spurious, connection to Rudolf was created when some of Hornick’s fanciful patterns, included in a volume of such designs, was later inscribed on its frontispiece, in Latin, Sunt Figurae num 275 Rudolfi Caesaris Thesaurus Delineat (There are designs the number of 275 representing the treasury of the Emperor Rudolf.) It is not true. One of these days I might satisfy my curiosity about how the handwriting compares with Mnishovsky’s.

There is some doubt about when Hornick  produced the last of his designs, but it is clear that his relatively simple designs (such as the three perfume-containers) belong to his early, Antwerp period, so that while they would appear to be influenced by an idea of the exotic and ‘ancient’, any closer connection to the Voynich manuscript must relate to the port of Antwerp or some similar centre whose trade permitted a local resident to see curious foreign models and build his own fantastic, forms in the post-Renaissance ‘Mannerist’ taste by incorporating disparate elements from the originals. 

A similar implication of commercial access to eastern routes and goods informs works produced by the family Miseroni, who also produced works for Rudolf II.  A discussion of the Miseroni works, in connection with the Voynich manuscript, came, and went, some years ago. I’m afraid I cannot now discover who began that discussion – it may have been Rich Santacoloma.

I don’t want to waste time discussing such post-1450 events or persons, so I’ll close with a brief comment on the routes and goods which brought such things as lapis lazuli and nephrite jade to Prague by the late sixteenth century.

Lapis lazuli from Badakhshan, part on object created by Miseroni for Rudolf II

The interesting thing about Miseroni is that his work incorporates lapis lazuli (obtained from Afghanistan) and nephrite jade, which at that time is most likely to have been obtained from Khotan in the Tarim basin, brought then along high ‘silk roads’. What is puzzling is that jade, like porphyry (gained from a mine in Egypt), cannot be carved like any other stone, but only shaped. The skill must be taught by a master and in fact when it comes to porphyry, the secret of working it was only rediscovered about the turn of the twentieth century.

Add to these points that a number of the designs which were produced in Mannerist style purported to reproduce ancient or classical artefacts – though they display distinctly eastern characteristics – and it is clear that Athanasius Kircher was not the only man of his time to believe that something of the classical Mediterranean had reached so far.   Certain of the Miseroni works appear to be  artefacts brought from the east and only provided with decoration and mountings.   Weight for weight, jade has always been more expensive than gold.

  • A series of articles on Miseroni, Rudolf and jade was published by ‘Friends of Jade’. here.

NOTE:  Some of the information above (including the maps) was first published through voynichimagery in posts of Sept.12th., 2012 and December 26th., 2012 and another post which I drafted in 2017 but did not publish, 2017 being the year I closed off public access. Anyone wanting details of sources etc., from the original posts is free to email me.

A central Asian nephrite jade inkstone, or lamp, that was given ornate mountings by one of the Miseroni family, to serve as a lamp for Rudolf II. The style of helmet suggests derivation from a Greek or a Luristan tradition. Another late (9thC AD) development is shown below from a 9thC image of foreigners on the silk roads.

Stars above – ‘Horoscopic charts’ or ‘clock-o-clay’ – a passing note

Two previous:

Header image – Aster flowers – phases of development.

IN the old days, picking oakum was proverbial for mind-numbing, tedious and back-breaking labour.  Trying to identify and eradicate ‘canonised myth’ from the theoretical Voynich narratives is just like that.

Take the “weed-seeded” idea of  the month-diagrams as ‘horoscopic charts’ – is it another bit of ‘pass-it-along’ gossip? Another bit of cloud-gazing, or guess-work or speculation?   Is it another idea dug out of a work produced by d’Imperio, and based on theories and attitudes current a hundred years ago but for which retrospective justification is still being sought?  Or – is it, on the contrary, a sensible conclusion drawn from a body of solid and well-documented evidence and research?  If there is such a formal study and argument… why does no-one say so?  It is not simply credit but responsibility for ideas put in circulation which a writer’s name must bear.   So… see if you can discover who is to be praised, or blamed, for planting and nurturing this particular “weed-seed”.  (Do let me know if you manage to track it to its source – and I mean original source, not the previous figure in the gossip-chain).

If trying to weigh the pros and cons for this notion, which may turn out to be just another without legitimate parentage, you will need to cover some basic ground – neatly summarised by this paragraph from the  British Library site.

Ideas of astrology in medieval Europe were a long way from today’s star sign horoscopes. Although some medieval astrologers were thought to be magicians, many were highly respected scholars. Astrologers believed that the movements of the stars influenced numerous things on Earth, from the weather and the growth of crops to the personalities of new born babies and the inner workings of the human body. Ancient studies of astrology were translated from Arabic to Latin in the 12th and 13th centuries and soon became a part of everyday medical practice in Europe. Doctors combined Galenic medicine (inherited from the Greek physiologist Galen – AD 129-216) with careful studies of the stars. By the end of the 1500s, physicians across Europe were required by law to calculate the position of the moon before carrying out complicated medical procedures, such as surgery or bleeding.  (from an  article illustrated by a detail Brit.Lib. MS Egerton 2572,(late 15thC)

N.B. You might start from that first point  – “… a long way from today’s star sign horoscopes” and ask, How different? In what ways? With what phase of that development (if any) are the Voynich month-diagrams imagined to be compatible?

Also – Azzolini has pointed out when speaking of charts made before and during the early sixteenth century, the term ‘horoscopic chart’ is a catch-all description for a variety of diagram types.  To which does this ‘weed-seed’ refer?

Note especially her saying that “Every one of these charts reflects the position of [all] the planets and [all] the constellations of the zodiac in the sky at a given moment in time.” Where are  planets, or the rest of the zodiac signs supposed to be in each of the Voynich month-diagrams?

Vague, hand-waving catch-all terms as ‘horoscopic charts’ in Voynich writings seem to convey plausible meaning yet evaporate as another bit of smoke on closer scrutiny.  This one seems to me to just another theory-driven guess, attributed and attributed to no-one and no body of work. Just another bad guess like the old assertion that the   cloudband pattern, or braided hair ‘proved’ the work Germanic, or that containers in the leaf-and-root section ‘proved’ connection to the European pharmacy before 1440 … or  that Quire 20 must consist of phamaceutical ‘recipes’.

Unless presented with some formal argument, documented and with precedents credited in the usual way, most assertions made about this manuscript serve theories rather than its better understanding.  Friends of the manuscript do well to avoid what is neither proven, nor rightly credited to its origin.

And so I had to do, myself, in connection with the usual ‘astrological’ assertions during the period when I investigated each of them.  My logs show I also looked at various other possibilities between, though here I’ll mention just three, without saying whether I found any helpful in reaching the conclusions which, in the end, I did.

1. Q&A fortune-telling.

I referred to Fanti’s work in posts written as early as 2011, though I’d known it since the 1980s when it helped elucidate the history and meaning of certain other medieval images which I had been commissioned to investigate.

When I mentioned Fanti’s sixteenth-century book, Triomfo della Fortuna for a Voynich audience it was at a time when  the study was dominated by a ‘central European’ theory that ignored any but medieval German works, and which still assumed an essential connection between date and place of manufacture and that of origin for the material, while also averse to any suggestion of non-Latin ‘authorship’.   The reaction to my mentioning Fanti, was therefore, an effort to present German ‘lot books’ as if these proved the type in some (unexplained) sense as inherently or uniquely ‘Germanic’.   This habit has noticeably decreased since 2015 when  Touwaide said he thought the Voynich text-block binding looked Italian to him.  Thereafter, Pelling’s ‘Milan’ theory was re-instated as acceptable after relegation to the Voynich wilderness for most of the preceding decade.

The amount of evidence, and the sheer volume of research which core-conservatives manage to pretend non-existent (while trying to co-opt much) displays a fixed determination which is really impressive in a weird sort of way.

Fanti’s book was published much later than the Voynich manuscript’s date, but  internal evidence shows it derived from matter attested in mainland Europe from the last quarter of the fourteenth century.  Here’s a detail.

detail from:  Sigismundo Fanti (Italian, born Ferrara, active Venice 16th century) Triomfo della Fortuna (published Jan. 1526).

These diagrams are not ‘horoscopic charts’ but are related to what was treated as a parlour-game in late medieval Europe.  A player asked one from a set list of questions and received answers  generated by these ‘lots’ – not unlike the way I-ching diagrams are generated, or those of the Youruba’s  ‘Ifa’ (which would itself inform inform, first, Islamic astrological calculations in north Africa and rather later Agrippa’s account of ‘geomancy’, but that’s another issue.

2. Ifa divination.

The calculations of Ifa allude to ‘mothers and daughters’ etc, but are far more sophisticated, and have far deeper roots,  than Agrippa would understand later.

For a better appreciation of  Ifa and system of divination – which incorporates history and traditional epic –  the interested reader might begin from Odularu’s bibliography.  I had also studied this topic, though from material in university libraries, before being asked (in 2007) to comment on a couple of images from the Voynich manuscript.  But see:


3. Panofsky, Spain and the Libros.

It is now almost ninety years since  Panofsky said that one of the month-diagrams reminded him of diagrams in the works produced by Arabic and Jewish scholars in obedience to Alfonso X.   It is almost twenty years since Dana Scott followed up that brief allusion and found (and shared) images from the Libros with members of the first mailing list.

Following this, we saw less effort put into testing whether and how the Libros might be relevant than in efforts to create ‘alternatives’ for which credit might be otherwise assigned.  I won’t go into that issue here except to say that this sort of co-opting and production of ‘alternatives’ continues today, with the habitual omission of original (and deserved) credit in the hope that constant re-presentation of the other may see the imitator credited as originator.

Credit for mention of the Libros and its diagrams, within Voynich studies, is due to Panofsky (1932) and subsequently to Dana Scott.  It should be noted, however, that neither offered any formal argument for a link between the Vms and material in the Libros.

In short, that possibility, introduced in 1932, remains in 2020 without any formal research and argument.  It is still just ‘an idea’.

Having to review, critically, every unsupported assertion and ‘canonised Voynich myth’ is real slog-research  “oakum-picking”, but the mess that has been made by using assertion to avoid evidence; of  pretending no other views exist save a given theoretical narrative; of systematically censoring and erasing the record of contributions made by dissenters… and so on… means the researcher must proceed as if on marshland, testing each step before allowing any weight to be placed on it.

As I’ve said in an earlier post – I can find no formal argument ever presented for a link between the month-diagrams and diagrams in the Libros – perhaps a reader might care to run that test for themselves.


Since my own research (as you’ll see if you follow the present series of posts to the end) led me finally to identify the month-diagrams with systems describing the ‘hours’ and further concluded that the tiered figures’ first enunciation occurred in a Hellenistic environment, so readers may wish to create a short-cut – knowing this series is following the slower course of tracking my own investigations from my logs.

Among the  hundred and more references which clarified some specific  point  I’ll mention two here.

The first includes a useful summary of material in the Libros. The second includes certain technical terms current in early fifteenth century Italy.

  • Gerhard Dohrn-van Rossum, Gerhard Dohrn,  History of the Hour: Clocks and Modern Temporal Orders ( University of Chicago Press, 1996), especially its Chapter 4.
  • and
    J.H. Leopold, The Amanus Manuscript, (Hutchinson:1971)

Postscript – more recent publications which I’d recommend include

  • Yossef Rapoport and Emilie Savage-Smith, Lost Maps of the Caliphs (Uni of Chicago Press:  2018)

I have already (in posts to voynichimagery) recommended the article by Edson and Savage-Smith but here are its details again

  • Evelyn Edson and Emilie Savage-Smith, ‘An Astrologer’s Map: A Relic of Late Antiquity’, Imago Mundi, Vol. 52 (2000), pp. 7-29.




“Here I lie, a clock-o’-clay,
Waiting for the time o’ day.”

John Clare

… but when I was a child, the ‘clock-o-clay’ was a seed-head (usually the dandelion’s) which told the hour by releasing the last of its seeds when one blew on it counting with each breath, ‘One o’clock.. two o’clock’..