Has the Voynich Manuscript Finally Been Decoded?: Researchers Claim That the Mysterious Text Was Written in Phonetic Old Turkish

There are still sev­er­al ancient lan­guages mod­ern schol­ars can­not deci­pher, like Minoan hiero­glyph­ics (called Lin­ear A) or Khipu, the intri­cate Incan sys­tem of writ­ing in knots. These sym­bols con­tain with­in them the wis­dom of civ­i­liza­tions, and there’s no telling what might be revealed should we learn to trans­late them. Maybe schol­ars will only find account­ing logs and inven­to­ries, or maybe entire­ly new ways of per­ceiv­ing real­i­ty. When it comes, how­ev­er, to a sin­gu­lar­ly inde­ci­pher­able text, the Voyn­ich Man­u­script, the lan­guage it con­tains encodes the wis­dom of a soli­tary intel­li­gence, or an obscure, her­mitic com­mu­ni­ty that seems to have left no oth­er trace behind.

Com­posed around the year 1420, the 240-page man­u­script appears to be in dia­logue with medieval med­ical and alchem­i­cal texts of the time, with its zodi­acs and illus­tra­tions botan­i­cal, phar­ma­ceu­ti­cal, and anatom­i­cal. But its script only vague­ly resem­bles known Euro­pean lan­guages.

So it has seemed for the 300 years dur­ing which schol­ars have tried to solve its rid­dles, assum­ing it to be the work of mys­tics, magi­cians, witch­es, or hoax­ers. Its lan­guage has been var­i­ous­ly said to come from Latin, Sino-Tibetan, Ara­bic, and ancient Hebrew, or to have been invent­ed out of whole cloth. None of these the­o­ries (the Hebrew one pro­posed by Arti­fi­cial Intel­li­gence) has proven con­clu­sive.

Maybe that’s because everyone’s got the basic approach all wrong, see­ing the Voynich’s script as a writ­ten lan­guage rather than a pho­net­ic translit­er­a­tion of speech. So says the Ardiç fam­i­ly, a father and sons team of Turk­ish researchers who call them­selves Ata Team Alber­ta (ATA) and claim in the video above to have “deci­phered and trans­lat­ed over 30% of the man­u­script.” Father Ahmet Ardiç, an elec­tri­cal engi­neer by trade and schol­ar of Turk­ish lan­guage by pas­sion­ate call­ing, claims the Voyn­ich script is a kind of Old Tur­kic, “writ­ten in a ‘poet­ic’ style,” notes Nick Pelling at the site Cipher Mys­ter­ies, “that often dis­plays ‘phone­mic orthog­ra­phy,’” mean­ing the author spelled out words the way he, or she, heard them.

Ahmet noticed that the words often began with the same char­ac­ters, then had dif­fer­ent end­ings, a pat­tern that cor­re­sponds with the lin­guis­tic struc­ture of Turk­ish. Fur­ther­more, Ozan Ardiç informs us, the lan­guage of the Voyn­ich has a “rhyth­mic struc­ture,” a for­mal, poet­ic reg­u­lar­i­ty. As for why schol­ars, and com­put­ers, have seen so many oth­er ancient lan­guages in the Voyn­ich, Ahmet explains, “some of the Voyn­ich char­ac­ters are also used in sev­er­al pro­to-Euro­pean and ear­ly Semit­ic lan­guages.” The Ardiç fam­i­ly will have their research vet­ted by pro­fes­sion­als. They’ve sub­mit­ted a for­mal paper to an aca­d­e­m­ic jour­nal at Johns Hop­kins Uni­ver­si­ty.

Their the­o­ry, as Pelling puts it, may be one more “to throw onto the (already blaz­ing) hearth” of Voyn­ich spec­u­la­tion. Or it may turn out to be the final word on the trans­la­tion. Promi­nent Medieval schol­ar Lisa Fagin Davis, head of the Medieval Acad­e­my of America—who has her­self cast doubt on anoth­er recent trans­la­tion attempt—calls the Ardiçs’ work “one of the few solu­tions I’ve seen that is con­sis­tent, is repeat­able, and results in sen­si­cal text.”

We don’t learn many specifics of that text in the video above, but if this effort suc­ceeds, and it seems promis­ing, we could see an author­i­ta­tive trans­la­tion of the Voyn­ich, though there will still remain many unan­swered ques­tions, such as who wrote this strange, some­times fan­tas­ti­cal man­u­script, and to what end?

Relat­ed Con­tent:

An Ani­mat­ed Intro­duc­tion to “the World’s Most Mys­te­ri­ous Book,” the 15th-Cen­tu­ry Voyn­ich Man­u­script

Behold the Mys­te­ri­ous Voyn­ich Man­u­script: The 15th-Cen­tu­ry Text That Lin­guists & Code-Break­ers Can’t Under­stand

Arti­fi­cial Intel­li­gence May Have Cracked the Code of the Voyn­ich Man­u­script: Has Mod­ern Tech­nol­o­gy Final­ly Solved a Medieval Mys­tery?

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

800 Illuminated Medieval Manuscripts Are Now Online: Browse & Download Them Courtesy of the British Library and Bibliothèque Nationale de France

Kazuo Ishiguro’s nov­el The Buried Giant begins with an immer­sive depic­tion of what it might have been like to live in a Euro­pean vil­lage dur­ing the mid­dle ages. Or what it might feel like for us mod­erns, at least. The cou­ple at the cen­ter of the sto­ry spends sev­er­al pages fret­ting over the loss of a can­dle, their only one. With­out it, their nights are pitch black. In the day, they wan­der in a fog, unable to remem­ber any­thing. Though the cause of this turns out to be dark mag­ic, one can’t help think­ing that a smart­phone would imme­di­ate­ly solve all their prob­lems.

This was a time not only before mobile video, but when images of any kind were scarce, when every book was painstak­ing­ly copied by hand in care­ful, ele­gant script. Many of those rare, scrib­al copies were not illus­trat­ed, they were “illu­mi­nat­ed.” Their pages shone out into the dark­ness and fog. Most of the pop­u­la­tion could not read them, but they could, in rare instances when they might catch a glimpse, be deeply moved by the col­or­ful, styl­ized images and let­ter­ing.

For the intel­lec­tu­al class­es, illu­mi­na­tion con­sti­tut­ed a lan­guage of its own, fram­ing and inter­pret­ing med­ical, clas­si­cal, and legal texts, gospels and works by the church fathers. Not all books received this treat­ment but the “most lux­u­ri­ous,” notes the British Library, were “lit­er­al­ly ‘lit up’ by dec­o­ra­tions and pic­tures in bright­ly coloured pig­ments and bur­nished gold leaf.” For cen­turies, despite the explo­sion of image-mak­ing tech­nolo­gies of every kind, most of us, unless we were schol­ars or aris­to­crats, were in the same posi­tion vis-à-vis these stun­ning arti­facts as the aver­age medieval peas­ant. Medieval man­u­scripts were locked away in rare book rooms and seen by very few.

The sit­u­a­tion has changed dra­mat­i­cal­ly as libraries dig­i­tize their hold­ings. Last Novem­ber, hun­dreds more rare, valu­able medieval man­u­scripts became avail­able to every­one when the British Library and the Bib­lio­thèque nationale de France launched a joint project, mak­ing “800 man­u­scripts dec­o­rat­ed before the year 1200 avail­able freely” online, as the BL blog announced in 2016. Both insti­tu­tions pro­vid­ed 400 man­u­scripts each for dig­i­ti­za­tion. Some of these are cur­rent­ly on dis­play at the wild­ly pop­u­lar, sold-out British Library exhi­bi­tion Anglo-Sax­on King­doms: Art, Word, War. Now they are also vir­tu­al pub­lic prop­er­ty, as it were, thanks to a grant from the Polon­sky Foun­da­tion.

That these frag­ile arti­facts have been so inac­ces­si­ble, kept under glass and well away from insects, thieves, and van­dals, now means they are in a con­di­tion to be dig­i­tal­ly copied and uploaded in high res­o­lu­tion for close view­ing, com­par­i­son, and care­ful study. Medievalists.net describes the com­ple­men­tary web­sites the two libraries have launched:

The first, France-Eng­land: medieval man­u­scripts between 700 and 1200, has been cre­at­ed by the Bib­lio­thèque nationale de France based on the Gal­li­ca mar­que blanche infra­struc­ture, using the IIIF stan­dard and Mirador view­er to make the images held by the dif­fer­ent insti­tu­tions inter­op­er­a­ble and enable them to be com­pared side-by-side with­in the same dig­i­tal library or anno­tat­ed. The sec­ond web­site, Medieval Eng­land and France, 700‑1200, is aimed at a wider pub­lic audi­ence, and has been devel­oped by the British Library to show­case a selec­tion of man­u­scripts as well as arti­cles, essays and video clips.

The French site has ports of entry accord­ing to theme, author, place, and cen­tu­ry, and many links to resources for schol­ars. The British Library site fea­tures curat­ed selec­tions, intro­duced by acces­si­ble arti­cles. Laypeo­ple with lit­tle expe­ri­ence study­ing medieval man­u­scripts can learn about legal, med­ical, and musi­cal texts, see how the writ­ings of the church fathers received spe­cial atten­tion in monas­tic cul­ture, and learn how man­u­scripts cir­cu­lat­ed before 1200. Those who know what they are look­ing for can con­duct advanced search­es at the Medieval Man­u­scripts site, and down­load a full list of all 800 man­u­scripts here.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

How Illu­mi­nat­ed Medieval Man­u­scripts Were Made: A Step-by-Step Look at this Beau­ti­ful, Cen­turies-Old Craft

Behold the Beau­ti­ful Pages from a Medieval Monk’s Sketch­book: A Win­dow Into How Illu­mi­nat­ed Man­u­scripts Were Made (1494)

Behold 3,000 Dig­i­tized Man­u­scripts from the Bib­lio­the­ca Palati­na: The Moth­er of All Medieval Libraries Is Get­ting Recon­struct­ed Online

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

Neil Gaiman Reads His Manifesto on Making Art: Features the 10 Things He Wish He Knew As a Young Artist

I think you’re absolute­ly allowed sev­er­al min­utes, pos­si­bly even half a day to feel very, very sor­ry for your­self indeed. And then just start mak­ing art. — Neil Gaiman

It’s a bit ear­ly in the year for com­mence­ment speech­es, but for­tu­nate­ly for life­long learn­ers who rely on a steady drip of inspi­ra­tion and encour­age­ment, author Neil Gaiman excels at putting old wine in new bot­tles.

He repur­posed his keynote address to Philadel­phi­a’s Uni­ver­si­ty of the Arts’ Class of 2012 for Art Mat­ters: Because Your Imag­i­na­tion Can Change the World, a slim vol­ume with hand let­ter­ing and illus­tra­tions by Chris Rid­dell.

The above video cap­tures the fre­quent col­lab­o­ra­tors appear­ing togeth­er last fall at the East Lon­don cul­tur­al cen­ter Evo­lu­tion­ary Arts Hack­ney in a fundrais­er for Eng­lish PEN, the found­ing branch of the world­wide lit­er­ary defense asso­ci­a­tion. While Gaiman reads aloud in his affa­ble, ever-engag­ing style, Rid­dell uses a brush pen to bang out 4 3/4 line draw­ings, riff­ing on Gaiman’s metaphors.

While the art-mak­ing “rules” Gaiman enu­mer­ates here­in have been extrap­o­lat­ed and wide­ly dis­sem­i­nat­ed (includ­ing, nev­er fear, below), it’s worth hav­ing a look at why this event called for a live illus­tra­tor.

Leav­ing aside the fact that each tick­et pur­chas­er got a copy of Art Mat­ters, auto­graphed by both men, and a large signed print was auc­tioned off on behalf of Eng­lish PEN, Gaiman holds illus­tra­tions in high regard.

His work includes pic­ture books, graph­ic nov­els, and light­ly illus­trat­ed nov­els for teens and young adults, and as a mature read­er, he, too, delights in visu­als, sin­gling out Frank C. Papé’s draw­ings for the decid­ed­ly “adult” 1920s fan­ta­sy nov­els of James Branch Cabell. (1929’s Some­thing about Eve fea­tured a bux­om female char­ac­ter angri­ly fry­ing up her hus­band’s man­hood for din­ner and an erot­ic entry­way that would have thrilled Dr. Seuss.)

In an inter­view with Water­stones book­sellers upon the pub­li­ca­tion of Nev­er­where anoth­er col­lab­o­ra­tion with Rid­dell, Gaiman mused:

…a good illus­tra­tor, for me, is like going to see a play. You are going to get some­thing brought to life for you by a spe­cif­ic cast in a spe­cif­ic place. That way of illus­trat­ing will nev­er hap­pen again. You know, some­body else could illus­trate it—there are hun­dreds of dif­fer­ent Alice in Won­der­lands.

Which we could cer­tain­ly take to mean that if Riddell’s style doesn’t grab you the way it grabs Gaiman (and the juries for sev­er­al pres­ti­gious awards) per­haps you should tear your eyes away from the screen and illus­trate what you hear in the speech.

Do you need to know how to draw as well as he does? The rules, below, sug­gest not. We’d love to take a peek inside your sketch­book after.

  1. Embrace the fact that you’re young. Accept that you don’t know what you’re doing. And don’t lis­ten to any­one who says there are rules and lim­its.

  2. If you know your call­ing, go there. Stay on track. Keep mov­ing towards it, even if the process takes time and requires sac­ri­fice.

  3. Learn to accept fail­ure. Know that things will go wrong. Then, when things go right, you’ll prob­a­bly feel like a fraud. It’s nor­mal.

  4. Make mis­takes, glo­ri­ous and fan­tas­tic ones. It means that you’re out there doing and try­ing things.

  5. When life gets hard, as it inevitably will, make good art. Just make good art.

  6. Make your own art, mean­ing the art that reflects your indi­vid­u­al­i­ty and per­son­al vision.

  7. You get free­lance work if your work is good, if you’re easy to get along with, and if you’re on dead­line. Actu­al­ly you don’t need all three. Just two.

  8. Enjoy the ride. Don’t fret it all away. (That one comes com­pli­ments of Stephen King.)

  9. Be wise and accom­plish things in your career. If you have prob­lems get­ting start­ed, pre­tend you’re some­one who is wise, who can get things done. It will help you along.

  10. Leave the world more inter­est­ing than it was before.

Read a com­plete tran­script of the speech here.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Neil Gaiman Teach­es the Art of Sto­ry­telling in His New Online Course

Hear Neil Gaiman Read a Beau­ti­ful, Pro­found Poem by Ursu­la K. Le Guin to His Cousin on Her 100th Birth­day

18 Sto­ries & Nov­els by Neil Gaiman Online: Free Texts & Read­ings by Neil Him­self

Ayun Hal­l­i­day is an author, illus­tra­tor, the­ater mak­er and Chief Pri­ma­tol­o­gist of the East Vil­lage Inky zine.  See her onstage in New York City tonight as host of The­ater of the Apes’ month­ly  book-based vari­ety show, Necro­mancers of the Pub­lic Domain. Fol­low her @AyunHalliday.

Historic Manuscript Filled with Beautiful Illustrations of Cuban Flowers & Plants Is Now Online (1826 )

The inter­net has become an essen­tial back up sys­tem for thou­sands of pieces of his­tor­i­cal art, sci­ence, and lit­er­a­ture, and also for a spe­cial­ized kind of text incor­po­rat­ing them all in degrees: the illus­trat­ed nat­ur­al sci­ence book, from the gold­en ages of book illus­tra­tion and philo­soph­i­cal nat­u­ral­ism in Europe and the Amer­i­c­as. We’ve seen some fine dig­i­tal repro­duc­tions of the illus­trat­ed Nomen­cla­ture of Col­ors by Abra­ham Got­t­lob Wern­er, for example—a book that accom­pa­nied Dar­win on his Bea­gle voy­age.

The same source has also brought us a won­der­ful­ly illus­trat­ed, influ­en­tial 1847 edi­tion of Euclid’s Ele­ments, with a sem­a­phore-like design that col­or-codes and delin­eates each axiom. And we’ve seen Emi­ly Noyes Vanderpoel’s 1903 Col­or Prob­lems: a Prac­ti­cal Man­u­al for the Lay Stu­dent of Col­or come online (and back in print), a study whose ideas would lat­er show up in the work of mod­ern min­i­mal­ists like Josef Albers.

Above and below, you can see just a frac­tion of the illus­tra­tions from anoth­er exam­ple of a remark­able illus­trat­ed sci­en­tif­ic book, also by a woman on the edge of being for­got­ten: Nan­cy Anne Kings­bury Woll­stonecraft’s 1826 Spec­i­mens of the Plants and Fruits of the Island of Cuba.

This study of Cuban plant life might nev­er have seen the light of day were it not for the new online edi­tion from the HathiTrust dig­i­tal library, “by way of Cor­nell University’s Library Divi­sion of Rare and Man­u­script Col­lec­tions,” notes Atlas Obscu­ra. The book is notable for more than its obscu­ri­ty, how­ev­er. It is, says schol­ar of Cuban his­to­ry and cul­ture Emilio Cue­to, “the most impor­tant cor­pus of plant illus­tra­tions in Cuba’s colo­nial his­to­ry.” Its author first began work when she moved to the island after her hus­band, Charles Woll­stonecraft (broth­er of Mary and uncle of Mary Shel­ley) died in 1817.

She began doc­u­ment­ing the plant life in the region of Matan­zas through the 1820s. That research became Spec­i­mens of the Plants and Fruits of the Island of Cuba, a metic­u­lous study, full of Wollstonecraft’s vibrant, strik­ing water­col­ors. After mak­ing sev­er­al attempts at pub­li­ca­tion, she died in 1828, and the man­u­script nev­er appeared in pub­lic. Now, almost two cen­turies lat­er, all three vol­umes are avail­able to read online and down­load in PDF. They had been dor­mant at the Cor­nell Uni­ver­si­ty Library, and few peo­ple knew very much about them. Cue­to, the schol­ar most famil­iar with the man­u­scrip­t’s place in his­to­ry, had him­self searched for it for 20 years before find­ing it hid­den away at Cor­nell in 2018.

Now it is freely avail­able to any­one and every­one online, part of an expand­ing, shared online archive of fas­ci­nat­ing works by non-pro­fes­sion­al sci­en­tists and math­e­mati­cians whose work was painstak­ing­ly inter­pret­ed by artists for the ben­e­fit of a lay read­er­ship. In the case of Woll­stonecraft, as with Goethe and many oth­er con­tem­po­rary schol­ar-artists, we have the two in one. View and down­load her 220-page work, with its 121 illus­trat­ed plates at the HathiTrust Dig­i­tal Library.

via Cor­nell/Atlas Obscu­ra

Relat­ed Con­tent:

A Vision­ary 115-Year-Old Col­or The­o­ry Man­u­al Returns to Print: Emi­ly Noyes Vanderpoel’s Col­or Prob­lems

Explore an Inter­ac­tive Ver­sion of The Wall of Birds, a 2,500 Square-Foot Mur­al That Doc­u­ments the Evo­lu­tion of Birds Over 375 Mil­lion Years

Two Mil­lion Won­drous Nature Illus­tra­tions Put Online by The Bio­di­ver­si­ty Her­itage Library

Wagashi: Peruse a Dig­i­tized, Cen­turies-Old Cat­a­logue of Tra­di­tion­al Japan­ese Can­dies

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

Pioneering Sci-Fi Author William Gibson Predicts in 1997 How the Internet Will Change Our World

“What’s the one thing that all great works of sci­ence fic­tion have in com­mon?” asks a 1997 episode of The Net, the BBC’s tele­vi­sion series about the pos­si­bil­i­ties of this much-talked-about new thing called the inter­net. “They all tried to see into the future, and they all got it wrong. Orwell’s 1984, Hux­ley’s Brave New World, Arthur C. Clarke’s 2001: all, to some extent or oth­er, wrong. And there’s anoth­er name to add to this list: William Gib­son.” But then on strolls Gib­son him­self, fresh off the writ­ing of Idoru, a nov­el involv­ing a human who wants to mar­ry a dig­i­tal­ly gen­er­at­ed Japan­ese pop star, to grant the inter­view above.

In it Gib­son admits that com­put­ers had­n’t gone quite the way he’d imag­ined thir­teen years ear­li­er in his debut nov­el Neu­ro­mancer — but in which he also offers pre­scient advice about how we should regard new tech­nol­o­gy even today. “The thing that Neu­ro­mancer pre­dicts as being actu­al­ly like the inter­net isn’t actu­al­ly like the inter­net at all!” Gib­son says in a more recent inter­view with Wired. “I did­n’t get it right but I said there was going to be some­thing.” Back in the mid-1980s, as he tells the BBC, “there was effec­tive­ly no inter­net to extrap­o­late from. The cyber­space I made up isn’t being used in Neu­ro­mancer the way we’re using the inter­net today.”

Gib­son had envi­sioned a cor­po­rate-dom­i­nat­ed net­work infest­ed with “cyber­net­ic car thieves skulk­ing through it attempt­ing to steal tid­bits of infor­ma­tion.” By the mid-1990s, though, the inter­net had become a place where “a real­ly tal­ent­ed and deter­mined fif­teen-year-old” could cre­ate some­thing more com­pelling than “a multi­na­tion­al enter­tain­ment con­glom­er­ate might come up with.” He tells the BBC that “what the inter­net has become is as much a sur­prise to me as the col­lapse of the Sovi­et Union was,” but at that point he had begun to per­ceive the shape of things to come. “I can’t see why it won’t become com­plete­ly ubiq­ui­tous,” he says, envi­sion­ing its evo­lu­tion “into some­thing like tele­vi­sion to the extent that it pen­e­trates every lev­el of soci­ety.”

At the same time, “it does­n’t mat­ter how fast your modem is if you’re being shelled by eth­nic sep­a­ratists” — still very much a con­cern in cer­tain parts of the world — and even the most promis­ing tech­nolo­gies don’t mer­it our uncrit­i­cal embrace. “I think we should respect the pow­er of tech­nol­o­gy and try to fear it in a ratio­nal way,” he says. “The only appro­pri­ate response” is to give in to nei­ther techno­pho­bia nor technophil­ia, but “to teach our­selves to be absolute­ly ambiva­lent about them and imag­ine their most inad­ver­tent side effects,” the side effects “that tend to get us” — not to men­tion the ones that make the best plot ele­ments. See­ing as how we now live in a world where mar­riage to syn­thet­ic Japan­ese idols has become a pos­si­bil­i­ty, among oth­er devel­op­ments seem­ing­ly pulled from the pages of Gib­son’s nov­els, we would do well to heed even these decades-old words of advice about his main sub­ject.

via Big Think

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Take a Road Trip with Cyber­space Vision­ary William Gib­son, Watch No Maps for These Ter­ri­to­ries (2000)

How Chris Marker’s Rad­i­cal Sci­Fi Film La Jetée Changed the Life of Cyber­punk Prophet William Gib­son

Cyber­punk: 1990 Doc­u­men­tary Fea­tur­ing William Gib­son & Tim­o­thy Leary Intro­duces the Cyber­punk Cul­ture

Sci-Fi Author J.G. Bal­lard Pre­dicts the Rise of Social Media (1977)

Mark Twain Pre­dicts the Inter­net in 1898: Read His Sci-Fi Crime Sto­ry, “From The ‘Lon­don Times’ in 1904”

Based in Seoul, Col­in Mar­shall writes and broad­casts on cities, lan­guage, and cul­ture. His projects include the book The State­less City: a Walk through 21st-Cen­tu­ry Los Ange­les and the video series The City in Cin­e­ma. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall or on Face­book.

The “Slave Bible” Removed Key Biblical Passages In Order to Legitimize Slavery & Discourage a Slave Rebellion (1807)

Pho­to via the Muse­um of the Bible

In an 1846 speech to the British and For­eign Anti-Slav­ery Soci­ety, Fred­er­ick Dou­glass summed up the twist­ed bond between slav­ery and reli­gion in the U.S. He began with a short sum­ma­ry of atroc­i­ties that were legal, even encour­aged, against enslaved peo­ple in Vir­ginia and Mary­land, includ­ing hang­ing, behead­ing, draw­ing and quar­ter­ing, rape, “and this is not the worst.” He then made his case:

No, a dark­er fea­ture is yet to be pre­sent­ed than the mere exis­tence of these facts. I have to inform you that the reli­gion of the South­ern states, at this time, is the great sup­port­er, the great sanc­tion­er of the bloody atroc­i­ties to which I have referred. While Amer­i­ca is print­ing tracts and Bibles; send­ing mis­sion­ar­ies abroad to con­vert the hea­then; expend­ing her mon­ey in var­i­ous ways for the pro­mo­tion of the gospel in for­eign lands, the slave not only lies for­got­ten, uncar­ed for, but is tram­pled under­foot by the very church­es of the land.

Dou­glass did not intend his state­ment to be tak­en as an indict­ment of Chris­tian­i­ty, but rather the hypocrisy of Amer­i­can reli­gion, both that “of the South­ern states” and of “the North­ern reli­gion that sym­pa­thizes with it.” He speaks, he says, to reject “the slave­hold­ing, the woman-whip­ping, the mind-dark­en­ing, the soul-destroy­ing reli­gion” of the coun­try, while pro­fess­ing a reli­gion that “makes its fol­low­ers do unto oth­ers as they them­selves would be done by.”

Dou­glass harsh­ly con­demns slave soci­ety in the U.S., but, per­haps giv­en his audi­ence, he also polit­i­cal­ly elides the exten­sive role many church­es in the British Empire played in the slave trade and Atlantic slave economy—a con­tin­ued role, to Douglass’s dis­may, as he found dur­ing his UK trav­els in the 1840s. I’m not sure if he knew that forty years ear­li­er, British mis­sion­ar­ies trav­eled to slave plan­ta­tions in the Caribbean armed with heav­i­ly-edit­ed Bibles in which “any pas­sage that might incite rebel­lion was removed,” as Brig­it Katz writes at Smith­son­ian. But he would hard­ly have been sur­prised.

The use of reli­gion to ter­ror­ize and con­trol rather than lib­er­ate was some­thing Dou­glass under­stood well, hav­ing for decades keen­ly observed slave­own­ers find­ing what they need­ed in the text and ignor­ing or sup­press­ing the rest. In 1807, the Soci­ety for the Con­ver­sion of Negro Slaves went so far as to lit­er­al­ly excise the cen­tral nar­ra­tive of the Old Tes­ta­ment, cre­at­ing an entire­ly dif­fer­ent book for use by mis­sion­ar­ies to the West Indies. “Gone,” Katz points out, “were ref­er­ences to the exo­dus of enslaved Israelites from Egypt,” ref­er­ences that were inte­gral to the self-under­stand­ing of mil­lions of Dias­po­ra Africans.

Gone also were vers­es that might explic­it­ly con­tra­dict the few proof texts slave­hold­ers quot­ed to jus­ti­fy them­selves. Espe­cial­ly dan­ger­ous was Exo­dus 21:16: “And he that stealeth a man, and sel­l­eth him, or if he be found in his hand, he shall sure­ly be put to death.” The typ­i­cal 66 books of a Protes­tant Bible had been reduced to parts of just 14. How is it pos­si­ble to pub­lish a Bible with­out what amounts to the myth­ic ori­gin sto­ry of ancient Israel? One answer is that this was a dif­fer­ent reli­gion, one whose aim, says Antho­ny Schmidt, cura­tor of the Muse­um of the Bible, was to make “bet­ter slaves.”

The “Slave Bible” did not cut out the sub­ject com­plete­ly. Joseph’s enslave­ment in Egypt remains, but this is like­ly as an exam­ple, says Schmidt, of some­one who “accepts his lot in life” and is reward­ed for it, a sto­ry U.S. church­es used in a sim­i­lar fash­ion. Pas­sages in the New Tes­ta­ment that seemed to empha­size equal­i­ty were cut, as was the entire book of Rev­e­la­tion. The infa­mous Eph­esians 6:5—“servants be obe­di­ent to them that are your mas­ters accord­ing to the flesh, in fear and trembling”—remained.

Whether or not the Bible real­ly did sanc­tion slav­ery is a ques­tion still up for debate—and maybe an unan­swer­able one giv­en dif­fer­ences in inter­pre­tive frame­works and the patch­work nature of the dis­parate, redact­ed texts stitched togeth­er as one. But the fact that British and Amer­i­can church­es delib­er­ate­ly used it as a weaponized tool of pro­pa­gan­da and indoc­tri­na­tion is beyond dis­pute. The so-called “Slave Bible” is both a fas­ci­nat­ing his­tor­i­cal arti­fact, a very lit­er­al sym­bol of a prac­tice that was inte­gral to the insti­tu­tion of slavery—the total con­trol of the nar­ra­tive.

Such prac­tices became more extreme after the Hait­ian Rev­o­lu­tion and the many bloody slave revolts in the U.S., as the planter class became increas­ing­ly des­per­ate to hold on to pow­er. One of only three extant “Slave Bibles,” the abridged version—called Parts of the Holy Bible, select­ed for the use of the Negro Slaves, in the British West-India Islands—is now on dis­play at the Muse­um of the Bible in Wash­ing­ton, DC, on loan from Fisk Uni­ver­si­ty. In the NPR inter­view above, Schmidt explains the book’s his­to­ry to All Things Con­sid­ered’s Michel Mar­tin, who her­self describes the text’s pur­pose in the most con­cise way: “To asso­ciate human bondage and human slav­ery with obe­di­ence to the high­er pow­er.”

via The Smith­son­ian

Relat­ed Con­tent:

The Only Sur­viv­ing Text Writ­ten in Ara­bic by an Amer­i­can Slave Has Been Dig­i­tized & Put Online: Read the Auto­bi­og­ra­phy of Enslaved Islam­ic Schol­ar, Omar Ibn Said (1831)

1.5 Mil­lion Slav­ery Era Doc­u­ments Will Be Dig­i­tized, Help­ing African Amer­i­cans to Learn About Their Lost Ances­tors

The Atlantic Slave Trade Visu­al­ized in Two Min­utes: 10 Mil­lion Lives, 20,000 Voy­ages, Over 315 Years

Cor­nell Cre­ates a Data­base of Fugi­tive Slave Ads, Telling the Sto­ry of Those Who Resist­ed Slav­ery in 18th & 19th Cen­tu­ry Amer­i­ca

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

Why Should We Read Ray Bradbury’s Fahrenheit 451? A New TED-Ed Animation Explains

Ray Brad­bury’s Fahren­heit 451 envi­sions a future where “fire­men” are sent out not to put out fires, but to burn up any books they find with flamethrow­ers. To stu­dents assigned to read the nov­el today, the idea of an Amer­i­ca that has out­lawed books entire­ly might seem like an intrigu­ing if far-fetched notion, per­haps more suit­ed to the real­i­ty of the 1950s than the real­i­ty of today. Even if we’ve nev­er read Fahren­heit 451, near­ly all of us know the basic out­line of its sto­ry by now, so why should we still read it? In less than five min­utes, the ani­mat­ed TED-Ed video above by the Uni­ver­si­ty of Wis­con­sin-Madis­on’s Iseult Gille­spie offers an answer to that ques­tion.

Fahren­heit 451 depicts a world gov­erned by sur­veil­lance, robot­ics, and vir­tu­al real­i­ty, a vision that proved remark­ably pre­scient, but also spoke to con­cerns of the time,” says Gille­spie. “The nov­el was pub­lished in 1953, at the height of the Cold War.  The era kin­dled wide­spread para­noia and fear through­out Brad­bury’s home coun­try of the Unit­ed States, ampli­fied by the sup­pres­sion of infor­ma­tion and bru­tal gov­ern­ment inves­ti­ga­tions. In par­tic­u­lar, this witch hunt men­tal­i­ty tar­get­ed artists and writ­ers who were sus­pect­ed of com­mu­nist sym­pa­thies. Brad­bury was alarmed at this cul­tur­al crack­down. He believed it set a dan­ger­ous prece­dent for fur­ther cen­sor­ship, and was remind­ed of the destruc­tion of the Library of Alexan­dria and the book-burn­ing of fas­cist regimes.”

These con­cerns, though rel­e­vant to the era in which Brad­bury wrote Fahren­heit 451, are essen­tial­ly time­less. As with all dystopi­an fic­tion, the nov­el “ampli­fies trou­bling fea­tures of the world around us and imag­ines the con­se­quences of tak­ing them to an extreme.” Some of the trou­bling fea­tures of the world 65 years ago have dimin­ished, but some have great­ly increased, and we would do well to bear in mind that in Fahren­heit 45“it was the apa­thy of the mass­es that gave rise to the cur­rent regime. The gov­ern­ment mere­ly cap­i­tal­ized on short atten­tion spans and the appetite for mind­less enter­tain­ment, reduc­ing the cir­cu­la­tion of ideas to ash. As cul­ture dis­ap­pears, imag­i­na­tion and self-expres­sion fol­low.” Cul­ture may take many more forms now than it did in the 1950s, but with­out our con­stant vig­i­lance, all of them could still be extin­guished, just as eas­i­ly as paper goes up in flame.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Ray Brad­bury Reveals the True Mean­ing of Fahren­heit 451: It’s Not About Cen­sor­ship, But Peo­ple “Being Turned Into Morons by TV”

Father Writes a Great Let­ter About Cen­sor­ship When Son Brings Home Per­mis­sion Slip to Read Ray Bradbury’s Cen­sored Book, Fahren­heit 451

An Asbestos-Bound, Fire­proof Edi­tion of Ray Bradbury’s Fahren­heit 451 (1953)

New Edi­tion of Ray Bradbury’s Fahren­heit 451 That’s Only Read­able When You Apply Heat to Its Pages: Pre-Order It Today

A Teas­er Trail­er for Fahren­heit 451: A New Film Adap­ta­tion of Ray Bradbury’s Ever-Rel­e­vant Nov­el

Hear Ray Bradbury’s Clas­sic Sci-Fi Sto­ry Fahren­heit 451 as a Radio Dra­ma

Based in Seoul, Col­in Mar­shall writes and broad­casts on cities, lan­guage, and cul­ture. His projects include the book The State­less City: a Walk through 21st-Cen­tu­ry Los Ange­les and the video series The City in Cin­e­ma. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall or on Face­book.

Librarian Honors a Dying Tree by Turning It Into a Little Free Library

And then she said to Anni­ka, “Why don’t you feel in that old tree stump? One prac­ti­cal­ly always finds things in old tree stumps.” 

- Pip­pi Long­stock­ing, Astrid Lind­gren 

Remem­ber that oth­er clas­sic of chil­dren’s lit­er­a­ture, where­in a boy runs from the city to a seclud­ed moun­tain, tak­ing up res­i­dence in an old tree he hol­lows into a cozy shel­ter?

Pub­lic librar­i­an and artist Shar­alee Armitage Howard’s Lit­tle Free Library is a bit like that, except there was no run­ning involved.

When the ven­er­a­ble and ail­ing cot­ton­wood in her Coeur d’Alene front yard began drop­ping branch­es on cars parked below, Howard faced the inevitable. But rather than chop the tree even with the ground, she arranged with the removal crew to leave a con­sid­er­able amount of stump intact.

Then, in a Pip­pi Long­stock­ing-ish move, she filled it with books for her neigh­bors and strangers to dis­cov­er.

The inte­ri­or has a snug, wood­land vibe, wor­thy of Beat­rix Pot­ter or Ali­son Utt­ley, with tidy shelves, soft light­ing, and a shin­gled roof to pro­tect the con­tents from the ele­ments.

Ever since Decem­ber, when Howard post­ed pho­tos to social media, the fairy­tale-like struc­ture has been engen­der­ing epic amounts of glob­al good­will.

What a beau­ti­ful way to pre­serve and hon­or a tree that stood for well over a cen­tu­ry.

One of the few naysay­ers is Red­dit user dis­cern­ing­per­vert, who is per­haps not giv­ing voice to the Lorax, so much as Thalia, Muse of Com­e­dy, when he writes:

It’s like a house of hor­rors for trees. Inside the corpse of their for­mer com­rade are the processed rem­nants of their tree­broth­ers and treesisters.

A lit­er­al Tree­house of Hor­ror…

Vis­it Howard’s Lit­tle Free Library (char­ter #8206) the next time you’re in Ida­ho. Or install one of your own.

(Those with trees to throw at the cause may want to begin with the stump hol­low­ing tuto­r­i­al below.)

via Twist­ed Sifter

Relat­ed Con­tent:

RIP Todd Bol, Founder of the Lit­tle Free Library Move­ment: He Leaves Behind 75,000 Small Libraries That Pro­mote Read­ing World­wide

Free Libraries Shaped Like Doc­tor Who’s Time-Trav­el­ing TARDIS Pop Up in Detroit, Saska­toon, Macon & Oth­er Cities

Grow­ing Up Sur­round­ed by Books Has a Last­ing Pos­i­tive Effect on the Brain, Says a New Sci­en­tif­ic Study

Ayun Hal­l­i­day is an author, illus­tra­tor, the­ater mak­er and Chief Pri­ma­tol­o­gist of the East Vil­lage Inky zine.  See her onstage in New York City in Feb­ru­ary as host of  The­ater of the Apes book-based vari­ety show, Necro­mancers of the Pub­lic Domain. Fol­low her @AyunHalliday.

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