On Crete, hidden among the ancient Aegean script from 4,000 years ago, is another script, perhaps an isolation, or not, but certainly the most mysterious of all. It's right before our eyes, hidden in plain sight, like all the most hidden and impenetrable mysteries. Cretan Hieroglyphic and Linear A are two of the most famous script in the world. It is an inflated emblem in Greece, like the Eiffel Tower in Paris or the gondola in Venice. It is part of an idea of Greekness that has nothing to do with actual Greeks.
The disc is called the Phaistos. In the early 20th century, an Italian archaeologist retrieved the disc of the great Minoan palaces, including Phaistos. The archives of Linear A and Linear B were not found in the palace. There was no writing at the place. Pernier wondered how it could be possible that the imposing and monumental palace had only a few scattered inscriptions.
The final dig was going to take place in 1908. The funds for exploring the palace were running out. It was a tough moment for Pernier. According to others around him, he was consumed with envy for his rivals and their discoveries. Pernier needed a break.
That is exactly what he got. The find of the year was his discovery of the Phaistos Disc. Quickly, phaistos gained a lot of attention. Everyone was amazed by the disc. It was completely different from what had been seen before.
The gondola of Crete is the island's icon, but how is it? Why is it so magnetic? It's there in the crossword you do on Sunday morning, in mystery novels, in all the true-crime series on TV, and in the stubborn and unrequited love that keeps you riveted to your phone, waiting for a message. The answer lies in the shadows, in life's blind spots, in the rush of engaging our analytical capacities, in all our predictions and expectations of what's to come. The desire to grasp what we don't know to get there before anyone else is the most attractive of all mysteries. To investigate. To understand.
We are easy prey for the unknown. We are bound to the future. The darker the corner, the more desperately we want to turn our flashlight on it.
The smallest object is all it takes. We are hooked. A spiral of incomprehensible signs makes us want to be hypnotized. The script is only one part of the enigma, as it is only one part of the circumstances surrounding its discovery, history, and doubts about its authenticity. The Phaistos Disc speaks of confusion, trap doors and unsolved puzzles. It feels like a game of Clue, with a dose of Scrabble.
When you have a little luck, what is the first thing that happens? The rumormongers pounce. I tell you that it is no more than a fraud. A disc was created from the resentment of a bitter and envious archaeologist. There is no chance that it is authentic. Pernier is swindling us all. The disc is not real.
The rumormongers might have a point. Is it real? Good question. Let the situation be the case. We have an Italian archaeologist caught up in a competitive environment, and then we have a cash- strapped excavation campaign, which ends with a drop of funding. One forged discovery could turn things around. It's much easier to poison the university with jealousy and wickedness than it is to keep the waters clear with collaboration and dialogue.
Enough with the rumors. Let's look at the facts. What is going on here? The disc is very unusual, with its smooth and well-shaped rim and perfectly stamped symbols. It looks like it could have been made yesterday. It does seem like a fake even if it isn't. Even among colleagues who are experts in the field, there are some who still believe in it. The archaeological context in which it was found is reliable. The same period in which Cretan Hieroglyphic and Linear A coexisted on the island is what is responsible for its dating. We must conclude that Pernier never forged anything, because the disc was found near a very archaic form of Linear A. It's time to bury the tale of deceptions and hoaxes, under all the useless academic arguments.
Enough with the tall tales. What purpose could a disc serve? What is written on it?
The disc is not an administrative text. The Etruscan language is all but incomprehensible, and its spiraling symbols recall those of another disc from a later period. The Magliano Disc is mentioned in Pernier's report, but he didn't copy anything. The dates of Etruria and Crete are too far apart.
If it is a race game, then what about a kind of ladders and chutes? This, too, has been suggested, believe it or not, among the thousands of interpretations. The Egyptians played a game called mehen where the track follows the shape of a coiled snake. The snake-god, Mehen, meanscoiled one, and the track along its body marks the passage from life to death. The modern-day Chutes and Ladders are less solemn and more pleasant to look at. Is the work of a Cretan who was bored with compiled lists of wool and sheep a relic of Cretan amusement? I don't believe it.
It is possible that the disc is not an isolated case. The Minoans found spirals on rings, or on your basic conical cups, with a spiral of Linear A circling around the setting. This disc is legible. It's an inscrutable puzzle, since at the end of the day it's an inscription.
We have no choice but to concede the victory because we are prey to the unknown. We have to admit that we don't know, that we can't know, and that we'll never know. Will we throw in the towel?
A spiraling series of symbols, on both sides, are almost all recognizable: men in various poses, a woman, a fish, a flower, a jar, axes, a bee, a dove, and many other figures. The Minoan world is all right. The Cretan hieroglyphs have a vague resemblance to these symbols. Where do they come from? What are they doing with this disc?
Two other mysteries areNested in the mystery of this object. It was baked at a high temperature to ensure its longevity. The Linear A tablets and clay documents with Cretan hieroglyphs were burned in the fires that destroyed the Minoan and Mycenaean palaces. The tablets are almost impervious to baking the clay. It is a happy coincidence that these objects arrived in perfect condition. Let's call it the serendipity of the Aegean epigraphers.
The signs are not engraved in the clay. They are stamped. The first printing took place before Gutenberg and his type. The characters are arranged in a circle on this disc, which is ahead of the game. The Cretan molds were used to stamp only one object. The disc is unicum.
Two hundred and forty-two signs, in sequence of clearly and intentionally divided words, tell us that this is a true written language. Are we looking at a logographic script, like Cretan Hieroglyphic and Linear A, where each sign indicates a word? There aren't enough total signs to confirm the hypothesis, but the first possibility stands on better ground. That is the curse of a unicum. There is no way to prove or disprove anything. Not only is it an isolated bird, but it is also a black swan: rare, impossible to ignore, and cursed.
It is cursed because it prevents us from applying the scientific method. If King Minos himself were to reveal to someone in a dream the true interpretation of Linear B, it was written by John Chadwick. The story is over. We are going to start the game of Chutes and Ladders with a dead-end track. In Rome, the only light at the end of the tunnel is the light of an oncoming truck.