Artificial language?

It is not just natural language vs. encryption. There are a lot of possibilities in between, and a few outside of both. One possibility, that has had its advocates over the years, is that it is an artificial language. The reasoning behind this is simple: the Voynich text (a) has properties like a language but (b) seems highly artificial. Therefore.

It is not widely touted as a likelihood, though, because it would not be typical of the period. It would need to be quite a developed artificial language the likes of which would not be seen again for centuries. Are we to suppose that someone in the 1400s invented an entire new language from the ground up? And only used it once? In a herbal?

The only medieval precedent anywhere within range would be Hildergard of Bingen’s Lingua ignota, but that is just a lexicon, not a developed language. All the same, it shows at least some openness to invented (or at least non-natural) languages such that we can say it is not entirely out of place in the Middle Ages.

I can make a connection with my Voynich hypothesis. The nuns with which Nicholas of Cusa had notorious disputes whilst bishop of the region, the nuns of Sonnenberg, were Benedictines – the Benedictine sisters counted Hildergard as their most illustrious and renowned visionary. Both language-making and herbalism are part of Hildergard’s legacy to the Benedictine sisters.

Two names often arise in these studies: Ramon Llull and Hildergard. We can place the influence of Llull in our region through Cusanus. Similarly, we can place the influence of Hildergard in our region through the Benedictine nuns. I do not know if the nuns of Sonnenberg had any particular attachment to Hildergard, or if the abbey kept her books. Such things are probably impossible to establish. But it is inconceivable that the abbey – one of the oldest Benedictine institutions – did not hold her in high regard and count her legacy as part of their tradition.

This is merely to slightly – very slightly – increase the possibility that what we have in the Voynich text is an invented tongue. One of the parties at the centre of the historical scenario I identify are the Benedictine nuns whose tradition includes an artificial language. It means that such an idea is a known and accepted possibility in that intellectual and spiritual world. But that’s all it means.

There are different types of artificial language too. It might be built a priori, from the ground up, or, more likely, it might be built upon the foundations of a natural language. Then there are various types of pidgin.

I will mention one type of medieval pidgin: that used by miners. Mine workers might come from many areas and nations and speak many different languages, which is an inconvenience when you’re risking your life down a mine. It was common for miners (it happened in other professions too) to develop blended pidgins so they could communicate with each other: tongues of convenience.

I can connect this idea with my hypothesis tangentially. Cusanus’ secular foe, Duke Sigismund, ran silver mines. Mining was the major source of wealth in the South Tyrol. If mines are pressure chambers where languages meet, per force, mining is a feature of the region of our concern and close to the heart of one of our protagonists. Not likely, but a pidgin, or some radical modification of an existing language is not out of the question.

The Voynich is conspicuously not a mining text, though. In places it is very whimsical. Rather than a miner’s pidgin it is much more likely to be a javanais. Some lilting javanais, I imagine, might be more befitting the nymphs. What else are we to make of some of the language strings that go “dain dain qedechy dain….”?

If it is an artificial philosophical language then, by my reckoning, it will be based upon Llull’s Ars Magna or rather the Cusean development of it. Llull’s systems, however, only produced strings of letters that had to be interpreted, this being the “art”. It is more an algebra than a language. I would need to propose that Cusanus has devised a way to embed the Llullian system in a language made for the purpose. Admittedly, I have no evidence of Cusanus moving in that direction.

Many analyses of the text suggest that it could have been constructed from systems of wheels very much in the manner of Llull’s wheels in the various iterations of his Art. At the same time, analysis of the text detects meaning and not just random strings of letters. Most importantly, the text appears to be phonological, which is to say it is made to be pronounced; it has sounds and some of its features seem based on phonological rules. So it is not just a mix of algebraic letters such as Llull generated with his wheels: the wheels in this case must contain actual phonemes, not just symbolic letters. That would be the surest path to an artificial philosophical language, in my opinion.

An artificial language would explain many things about so-called ‘Voynichese’. It could offer an almost comprehensive explanation. But at the same time it requires a very big leap. If anyone could have made that leap it would have been Nicholas of Cusa. I think it is an unlikely scenario in itself, and there is more likely to be a simpler solution, but if anyone in the relevant period could have devised a constructed language (conlang) then, I argue, it was Nicholas of Cusa.

An artificial or synthetic language scenario has this going for it: after 100+ years no decryption solution and no natural language solution has prevailed. If it was a cypher, it would be broken by now. Every known language under the sun has been tried and failed. Often, conlang seems to be the last man standing.

R. B.