We also know from a series of carbon dating, protein, and ink tests that:
• The book was put together between the years 1404 and 1438
• The author used 14 calfskins to make the pages
• The ink was made from a mix of nuts, eggs, fruit peels, and wine
The book's drawings?
Well, they include strange ones, like this green-smoke-blowing dragon...
...this frightening-looking plant...
...and this, most probably having to do with astrology:
In terms of provenance, researchers believe:
• Emperor Rudolf II of Germany bought it in 1665, possibly under the impression it was authored by famous philosopher and friar, Roger Bacon
• Then, it changed a hands a few times until landing at Rome's Jesuit College at Frascati
Until the early 1900s, the book didn't receive much publicity, until Polish book dealer Wilfrid Voynich, the work's namesake, bought it in 1912.
After his death in 1930, it was bought and sold several times until landing at Yale University in 1969, where it still sits today.
And ever since 1969, cryptographers and codebreakers have meticulously studied the book's staggering 170,000 characters and 37,919 words.
And what have they understood?
Well...not a damn thing.
Any guesses of your own?
Yeah…me neither.
In an attempt to break the code, experts even developed the European Voynich Alphabet, seen here, which matches Voynich characters with similar-looking Latin letters.
But perhaps that's a futile effort:
Who's to say that letters that look the same...have to be the same?
What's also peculiar about the text is that it appears - in a few instances - some characters have been darkened or touched up since its original publication.
But by who?
And why?
And so begins the list of other things we just don't know:
• Is the text a medieval language not used anymore? Or is it some secretive, unbreakable code?
• Is it a book about plants? Sex? The stars? All of the above? None of the above?
• Who the hell wrote it?
Take a look for yourself.
Did our mysterious author put together an educational textbook?
Was he or she trying to tell the future?
Was he or she…maybe, hallucinating?
Another theory is that Wilfrid Voynich was, well… a troll, and that this code we've spent decades trying to crack is just one big hoax.
But cynics beware:
Scientists argue the language is just too sophisticated and elaborate for it to have only been a bunch of gibberish.
And so begs the question:
If there is STILL, after decades of codebreaking and examination, SO much unknown about the Voynich Manuscript, is that to say we're doomed?
Will we ever know what any of this stuff means?
But perhaps that question is not the right one.
Perhaps it's our interpretation of the Voynich Manuscript that says more about us than what's actually written inside.
As one expert said:
“The evil beauty of the Voynich Manuscript…is that it holds a mirror up to our souls.”
Interest piqued? Learn something new?
Follow @DavidZabinsky for more threads and stories like this one.
For another strange mystery - one that profiles a lake in India bewilderingly surrounded by…ancient human remains, check out the thread below:
Every face on a US dollar bill has always been that of a dead guy.
Well...
Except one.
His name was Spencer M. Clark, and you'll hardly believe what he pulled off to get his own damn face on the five-cent bill back in 1866.
The story:
We start five years prior...
In 1861.
The American Civil War has begun and Americans - confused, scared, and anxious about the future - begin looking at ways to protect themselves amid the frightening uncertainty.
And where do we flock when we see doom looming upon us?
Gold.
But back in 1861, Americans aren't rocking up to bullion shops and strolling home with 1 KG bars or logging into their Robinhood accounts to buy Gold ETFs in order to get their fill.
It's 1945, and perhaps the most talented high school baseball team in all of Arizona isn't allowed to compete for the state championship.
Why, you ask?
Because all of the students are detained.
Behind barbed wire.
A story:
Before we begin, a heartfelt thank you to Lisa Heyamoto who researched and interviewed near and far to tell this story first for Narratively...
A story that starts on December 7, 1941...
In the small farming town of Guadalupe, California.
$2.
That's how much Kameo Furukawa makes per box of artichokes he sells, made possible by plucking them tirelessly day-in and day-out under the scorching California sun.
Kameo has a family of six to feed, after all, and as a Japanese immigrant in the US, nothing comes easy.
Between 2010 and 2013, Vijai Maheshwari routinely found himself on a plane between Kyiv and New York, smuggling something VERY valuable inside his luggage.
And no, it wasn't drugs.
It wasn't weapons, either.
Instead?
It was "Virgin Russian Hair".
The hard-to-believe story:
Before diving in, a huge thank you to Vijai himself for sharing his own roller-coaster-of-an-experience first for Narratively...
An experience that starts in 2010...
In the Ukrainian capital of Kyiv.
Vijai is having - in his own words - a midlife crisis.
For starters, he's single and quickly approaching the ever-dreaded age of 40.
To make matters worse?
'B.East' - the magazine he edits - has just collapsed, so Vijai finds himself unemployed.
The eight-story, 11,000-ton tower that rotated 90° in 1930...
Without anyone inside feeling a damn thing?
The full story, below:
It's 1929 in Indianapolis, and the Indiana Bell Telephone Company has just bought the Central Union Telephone Company Building where they'll host their new headquarters.
The only problem?
The new building isn't big enough to accommodate all of their staff.
So?
The good folks at Indiana Bell plan to demolish the existing structure and re-build a BIGGER one on the plot, even if it means interrupting work flow for months and months on end.
In 1725, Louis Congo - while enslaved - made the most important deal of his life:
He bargained for his freedom.
The catch?
As a free man, he'd be forced to take on a job no one else could possibly withstand...
A job full of punishment, of blood...
And of death.
A story:
Before we start, a quick thank you to Crystal Ponti who uncovered this gruesome piece of history first for Narratively...
A piece of history that starts on a gray and gloomy April day in 1721...
In the French Louisianan capital of New Biloxi.
It's on this particular gloomy afternoon - the type of afternoon where one expects the clouds to break any moment now - that finally, in the distance, they do.
But it's not a rainstorm or even the sun peaking through the gray sky, but instead - in the distance -
But perhaps less known about Bokassa was his personal orchestra...
And the man whose live it unexpectedly changed...
Forever.
A story:
Before we start, a huge thank you to Inna Lazareva who made several trips to the Central African Republic (CAR) to tell this story first for Narratively...
A story that starts in the late 1960s in...well, you guessed it:
The Central African Republic.
Meet teenager Charlie Perrière.
Charlie, to put it bluntly, doesn't have it easy.
His father?
Dead.
His mother?
Raising Charlie and his ten siblings (yes, ten) alone.
That means Charlie, being the oldest in the family, is responsible for supporting them all.