What Pavel Left
~ Monday, August 14, 2023 ~
Pavel Šimánek stopped answering email in March. I assumed he was travelling, or had changed address, or was simply doing the thing that independent researchers sometimes do when they are deep in something: ignoring everything that is not the work. In June a mutual acquaintance forwarded a notebook. I have been sitting on it since then. I am publishing this because I think someone else should know the notebook exists. I am not sure what it means.
I mentioned Pavel once before on this blog — in a 2022 article on Rudolf II’s Kunstkammer (The Emperor’s Collection and What It Means to Prove a Purchase), where I thanked him for facilitating access to a facsimile of a Rudolf II period inventory held at the Strahov manuscript collection. That was the extent of his visibility here. He did not contribute articles; he did not ask to.

Pavel
Pavel Šimánek was an independent manuscript researcher — Czech, based in Prague. He had worked for several years as a cataloguer at the Strahov Monastery Library before leaving that position around 2020; I never had a clear account of the circumstances and did not ask. We met at a conference in Vienna in autumn 2019, fell into conversation over a shared interest in provenance documentation and what he described as “the parts of archival work that nobody publishes because nothing was concluded.” We stayed in intermittent contact by email after that. He had limited web presence, which is not unusual for someone working outside institutional frameworks and not particularly interested in being found. The last email I received from him was in February 2023, concerning an unrelated matter. I have not heard from him since March.
The notebook
The notebook is A4, ring-bound, approximately two-thirds full. It is a working document: archive visit dates, call numbers, partial transcriptions, folio dimensions noted in margins, calculations I cannot always follow. Not a diary. There are dates but no reflections on those dates; there are names but they are institution names, not people. It reads as the record of someone working through a specific problem in the way archival research works through problems — slowly, with frequent dead ends noted and crossed out. The handwriting is consistent with the notes Pavel sent me in earlier correspondence.
Three sections of the notebook are the reason I am writing this. There is one other entry I have not been able to place. Near the back of the notebook, in the compressed hand of the later pages, Pavel had noted what looks like a route — a number, twenty, and a Latin phrase: Ab porta regni. Below it, a monastery name I don’t recognise and what might be a family name or a locality. I don’t know what he was researching or where this leads. I am noting it because I have noted everything else.
The folio
The relevant entry is dated 28 January 2023. Pavel had been at an institutional collection in Moravia — I am not publishing the specific reference yet — and had been granted access to a bound collection for reasons unrelated to what he subsequently found. He describes, in three pages of close notes, a single vellum folio that came to his attention as accompanying material within the bound collection: loose, unbound, tucked between two bound items with no notation indicating it belonged there or explaining how it had arrived.
The notes are careful in a way that suggests he understood he might be wrong about what he was looking at, and wanted to record what he could verify separately from what he was inferring. What he could verify: vellum, single leaf, written on both sides, left-to-right script, ink consistent with iron gall, dimensions approximately 23.5 by 16 centimetres. He identifies the script as matching the character set documented in published analyses of Beinecke MS 408.
Beyond the script, he notes the recto’s visual register as consistent with the astronomical sections of the manuscript: circular diagrams, small figures arranged around a perimeter in the manner of the zodiac pages. Not the section of MS 408 that has attracted the most attention, but not unusual for it either. What he marks in his corner sketch is not the main composition but the margin — an annotation in a noticeably different hand, which he records as containing what appears to be a Roman numeral, possibly XIII, followed by characters in the manuscript’s primary script that he cannot resolve. He does not speculate on this in the notebook. He marks it and moves on.
What he was inferring: that the folio was a separated leaf from MS 408. He based this on the script identification, the dimensions, and the vellum quality. I cannot evaluate this independently. Pavel had handled more manuscript material than I have, and the separated-folio scenario — a leaf found loose within a bound institutional collection — fits the pattern I outlined in a 2021 article more precisely than I am comfortable with.
The other item
Tucked inside the back cover of the notebook, folded twice, was a separate piece of vellum. Unfolded, it measures approximately 148 by 105 millimetres. One side is blank. The other carries a pattern of symbols — not text, not a diagram in any conventional sense I recognise, but a deliberate arrangement of marks drawn with some care. Three of the marks are larger than the others and appear to function as anchor points of some kind. The ink is consistent with iron gall; the vellum looks old, though I am not qualified to date material by eye.
Pavel had written on the blank side, in his usual hand: PGU, Kircher K., XI/2022.
PGU is the Pontifical Gregorian University in Rome — the institution that was the Collegio Romano, where Athanasius Kircher worked and where the Voynich manuscript was held for two centuries after Marci sent it in 1666. Kircher K. is presumably the Kircher collection within that archive. November 2022.
I do not know what this piece is or whether it has any connection to the folio Pavel found two months later. I am not publishing a photograph of it. I am not sure enough of what it is to put it into circulation.
The synthesis
The third section is a single page, and it is different from the rest. The archival entries in the notebook are structured, cautious, written to be verified against later — the record of someone who had learned to separate what he could establish from what he was inferring. This page was written differently. All at once, by the compressed look of the hand. No verification annotations, no crossed-out dead ends. It reads like a conclusion that arrived suddenly and had to be set down before it could be lost.
Pavel had drawn lines connecting three things: Bishop Kapalini’s article on the theological weight of the apostolic number (The Number Beyond the Count, published here in 2021), the Latin burial text I found in the Moravian archive that same year and published here as A Register Without an Owner — *signo XIII notatum, nomen ignotum* — and the folio entry from January 2023.
At the bottom of the page, underlined twice:
B.K. má pravdu. Třináctý nebyl doplněn — byl pohřben. Signo XIII není symbolika. Je to místo.
B.K. is right. The thirteenth was not replaced — he was buried. The XIII sign is not symbolic. It is a location.
I have read this many times. I am not sure what to do with it. I am publishing it because I think someone else might know.
The archive
The institutional collection Pavel was accessing when he found the folio is in Moravia. After reading the notebook carefully I realised that the specific collection he had noted — bound material from the ecclesiastical Group E fonds — is the same collection I examined briefly in 2021, when I found a short undated Latin text in an anomalous hand and published a transcription: A Register Without an Owner. The access date in Pavel’s notebook is 28 January 2023. I had not known that he had read that article, or that he had applied for access to the same material.
This is the other reason I am publishing now rather than continuing to sit on it.
I am not drawing a conclusion from the coincidence of the access records. I am noting it because I do not think I should be the only person who decides what it means.
If anyone has been in contact with Pavel Šimánek since March 2023, I would be glad to hear from them. The blog’s contact form reaches me. I am not asking anyone to do anything with this information. I have published it because the notebook exists and because it seems to me that is sufficient reason.
Related
- The Number Beyond the Count — Bishop Kapalini on the theological weight of thirteen; the article Pavel annotated
- The Missions North of the Danube — Bishop Kapalini on pre-Carolingian Christianity in Bohemia and Moravia; the Brevnov fragment
- A Register Without an Owner — the Moravian archive collection, 2021; the burial text Pavel connected to the folio
- The Emperor’s Collection and What It Means to Prove a Purchase — V3; where Pavel is first mentioned
- The Folios That Are Not There — V2; the separated-folio phenomenon