Palimpsest Lab GE·CH
PL MS 7 · fol. 24v · cradle 2
PL MS 7 (olim Tolosa, Bibl. mun. 887), fol. 24v — Horae B.M.V., s. XIII² · under: Herakleides of Kyzikos, Περὶ ἑλίκων ἰσορροπίας, s. V. Synthetic reconstruction; the original never leaves its nitrogen case.

Interactive exhibit: a vellum folio carrying a thirteenth-century Latin Book of Hours written over an erased fifth-century Greek mathematical treatise. Moving the wavelength slider from visible light to ultraviolet makes the erased Greek text and its spiral diagram fluoresce into legibility; moving it to infrared deepens the Latin ink and reveals the parchment’s follicles, veining and scrape marks.

Manuscript recovery · multispectral imaging · Genève

Two books share this page. Only one was meant to survive.

Under the lamp: a Book of Hours copied about 1240 — over a fifth-century Greek treatise on spiral equilibrium that a scribe scraped away to reuse the skin. Iron-gall ink bites deeper than any knife can reach. Drag the wavelength to 365 nm and the erased mathematics fluoresces back.

λ
550nm
band
VISIBLE · reflectance
source
LED bank 06/12 · 550 nm ±10
barrier
—
exposure
1/8 s · f/5.6 · 12 frames
undertext legibility
04%

Drag the spectrum under the folio — or focus it and use ← → (PgUp/PgDn hops band to band). The slider is the lamp.

§ case files

Six texts that came back.

Recovery is counted in characters read to consensus by two independent editors — never in hope. Shelf marks are ours; former homes are given as olim.

§ the bench

ORPHEUS-12.

One lamp is a liar. Twelve narrow bands, two raking arms and a barrier filter tell the truth slowly — about forty minutes a folio. Named for the only imaging protocol older than ours: look back carefully, and you may keep what you love.

ORPHEUS-12 · side elevation · not to scale
sensor151 MP achromatic CMOS, 14-bit, Peltier-cooled
illumination12 narrowband LED banks, 365–940 nm, ±10 nm
fluorescenceUV-A excitation 365 nm · long-pass 420 nm barrier
raking2 arms at 10°, E/W — reads erasure by shadow
registrationsub-pixel, σ ≤ 0.22 px across the 15-frame stack
separationPCA + MNF; pseudocolour keyed per scribal hand
throughput≈ 40 min per folio · 12 bands + 2 raking + 1 transmissive
dose≤ 2.1 klx·h per campaign — under one gallery-day of light
  1. Collate & cradle — folio mapped, lacunae logged, spine angle fixed at 104°.
  2. Capture — twelve bands, two raking passes, one transmissive.
  3. Register — every frame warped to the 550 nm reference.
  4. Separate — principal components pull ink from ink, hand from hand.
  5. Edit — two editors read blind; only agreement counts as recovered.

Select a band to retune the lamp on the folio above.

§ essay

What the Knife Leaves.

A monastery kitchen ledger will tell you what a book cost before it was a book: sixty-eight sheep for one lectern Bible, dressed and limed and scraped thin through a Burgundian winter.1 Parchment was land, weather and labour pressed flat enough to write on. When the words on a skin stopped earning their keep — the liturgy reformed, the language died, the mathematics went out of fashion — the skin was still worth a flock. So the knife came out, and the pumice after it, and the page went back to being a field.

The scribe who erased the treatise now on our bench did nothing shameful by his own lights. He was recycling. But iron-gall ink is not a coating; it is a provoked chemistry — oak-gall tannin set against green vitriol — and it does not rest on parchment so much as bite into it, forty to eighty microns down into the collagen weave.2 A knife can take the body of a letter. It cannot reach the grave.

Ultraviolet is how we read the grave. At 365 nanometres, parchment fluoresces: the skin answers invisible light with a pale blue-white of its own making. Where old ink once etched the collagen, the answer fails — fluorescence is quenched, and the dead letters print themselves as shadows on the glow.3 Note what this means. We never photograph the erased ink; there is no ink left to photograph. We photograph the skin’s memory of being written on. The text survives the way a scar survives.

ὅπερ ἔδει δεῖξαι.
“Which was to be proved.” The last legible words of the undertext — recovered 8 November 2024, 21:41, band 2 of 12.

It is tempting to resent the prayer book for standing on the mathematics. That has it backwards. The Hours are why this vellum stayed bound, dry, shelved and wanted for eight centuries; erasure was the rent the treatise paid for shelter. Nearly every great recovered undertext survives by the same unhappy bargain — the Method of Archimedes lived inside a prayer book for seven hundred years precisely because somebody kept valuing the prayers.4 The eraser and the author are co-donors to the archive. Only one of them meant to be.

So the laboratory does not take sides. We will not lift the Hours to reach the Greek, and we will not pretend the Greek is not there. The folio leaves the bench exactly as it arrived — one skin, two voices, eight centuries apart — except that now both can be heard at once, each in its own light. What the knife left, the lamp returns.