{"id":25855,"date":"2023-01-19T11:30:55","date_gmt":"2023-01-19T16:30:55","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/circulatingnow.nlm.nih.gov\/?p=25855"},"modified":"2023-01-19T11:23:27","modified_gmt":"2023-01-19T16:23:27","slug":"a-secret-language-the-perils-of-transcription","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/circulatingnow.nlm.nih.gov\/2023\/01\/19\/a-secret-language-the-perils-of-transcription\/","title":{"rendered":"A Secret Language: The Perils of Transcription"},"content":{"rendered":"

By James Labosier ~<\/em><\/p>\n

The task of producing typed transcriptions of handwritten texts involves familiarity. Often on first glance 18th and 19th century handwriting is discouraging. It doesn\u2019t want you to read it. But once you take some time looking closely at each word, you come to know the writer and how he or she shaped certain letters and words. Once you and the writer understand each other, transcription begins to gather speed. Below is a page of handwriting which, over time, became perfectly understandable to me.<\/p>\n

\"A<\/a>
Lectures on Chemistry<\/em>, by George Fordyce, London, ca. 1770
National Library of Medicine #2931109R<\/em><\/a><\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

MS B 346<\/strong>: <\/strong>Materia Medica<\/em>, ca. 1750<\/strong><\/h3>\n

The transcriber is happiest to come across handwriting that is steady, clean, and perfectly legible producing not one ounce of perspiration. I found such a paragon in the collections of the National Library of Medicine in a notebook, perhaps from a lecture or kept as reference material, by an unknown author. Here is a part of page 13 in MS B 346: Materia Medica<\/em>, ca. 1750<\/a>:<\/p>\n

\"Two<\/a><\/p>\n

But sometimes, those wonderfully legible passages are interspersed with myriad eccentric characters and shapes best known to alien life forces. When Phlorg is out in another part of the galaxy, deciphering falls solely on the transcriber. The characters I encountered are shorthand. This practice of making handwriting quicker and more efficient has been used since antiquity. However, there are a plethora of systems which took hold in different centuries, eras, and languages. The particular shorthand system in question, besmirching the entirety of MS B 346, eluded my ability to find its systemic key.<\/p>\n

Below is a sample from page 17.<\/p>\n

\"A<\/a><\/p>\n

\"A<\/a>
In Stenography compleated; or, The art of short-hand brought to perfection<\/em><\/a> …, 1743
Via Flickr<\/a><\/em><\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

Of the various systems of English shorthand commonly used in the 1700s, I came across none that approximated the gibberish I had to decipher. The few systems I found were more focused on letters and partial words. Not only did the symbols in these systems not match those I faced, but it was clear to me that many of the characters I saw represented whole words, not letters. So, at the risk of being embarrassed in the future by someone presenting me with a concise glossary of this shorthand system, I undertook to decipher it myself.<\/p>\n

The first few successes were encouraging. Context made it easy to tell what symbols were used for \u201cthe\u201d and \u201cis\u201d. After that, things became trickier. When I found a certain shape recurring and couldn\u2019t easily figure its meaning, I collected a series of instances in context and hoped that eventually I would find the one word that fit all those \u201cblanks.\u201d<\/p>\n

Here is how the word \u201ckeep\u201d was wrested from the world of doodles:<\/p>\n

\"The<\/a>Does this symbol mean: dry? stand? exert? keep?<\/strong><\/p>\n