All of a sudden, the purgatory endured by the library’s wraiths, endlessly waiting for long-stolen books to be returned to the stacks, seemed painfully close at hand.
#Voynich manuscript translation 2019 how to#
Vaguely nodding in approval, Graydon looked around at the empty chairs beached by the day’s ebbing tide of students – disrespectful to whom, he wondered? Perhaps she-of-the-library could see people that he couldn’t, he mused, possibly the ghosts of dead Yale grads, haunted by their own unfinished dissertations – a virtual “Skull and Bones” society? And look, over in the far corner, might that be dear old Montgomery Burns himself? Yesssss.Īs the fug of dead presidents began to fade from his mind’s eye, Graydon’s own awful situation lurched back into sharp focus – of how to decipher the murderously intractable Voynich Manuscript for his PhD. “ Stop sucking the end of your pencil so loudly“, she wheeshed through gritted teeth, “ it’s disrespectful”. * * * * * * * The Voynich Translation Chapter 1 – “Lesser Fleas”ħ.07pm: Mrs Kurtz tapped Graydon Warnes Harvitz II sharply on the shoulder, waking him from his open-eyed slumber. Now there’s a challenge, I thought… so, six years on, here’s my version of how Chapter 1 might go… Never got around to it, though - maybe in my retirement. Later, I thought of writing a few detective stories centered on a career grad student who promised for his dissertation a translation and analysis of the manuscript. Back in 2003, the ( Paleo) Ideofact blogger (William Allison) reminisced about having once jointly compiled a list of meaningless dissertation titles, such as “The Semiotics of (En)Gendered Archetypes: A Contextual Deconstruction of the Voynich Manuscript.” His pleasantly-meandering blog train of thought quickly sped on to the possibility of Voynich fiction, continuing…
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