Abbyy Finereader 11 – a dog indeed?

I’ve scanned and uploaded two books by Michael Bourdeaux here.  The Faith on Trial in Russia volume in particular is important reading for the persecution of the Russian baptists in the USSR.

I’ve been working on Gorbachev, Glasnost & The Gospel, one of the late Keston volumes.  I scanned the pages using Finereader 8 — the last version that allowed me to drive my Opticbook 3600 at 400 dpi.  I scanned the photos and the cover in Finereader 11; and then I imported the image files from FR8 into FR11.

But it isn’t working out that well.  In fact I am giving up and going back to Finereader 10, which I used earlier today for Faith on Trial in Russia.  Because it gives odd spelling errors: a word ending in “tly ” like “currently ” will be given as “currendy”.  That wastes time.  Worse, it has decided to treat 100 pages as “Batnan” font — which looks a lot like Courier.  I don’t want to go through every page fixing that.

So I’m exporting the images and going back.  Wish me luck!

UPDATE: In fairness, I’m finding the same -dy problem in FR10.  It must be the rather odd font in use.  But much else is still better in FR10.  Words in italics are bolded in FR11; not in FR10.  The pages in Batnan are not so in FR10.  Hmm.

On the other hand, it is good that FR11 highlights “words” that aren’t in  the  dictionary — that really does help in spotting errors.

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Michael Bordeaux, Faith on Trial in Russia

Back in the summer I noticed that there was very little material online about the Soviet persecution of the Christians.  This saddened me, since it was something that should not be forgotten.

Keston College, which sought to publicize the situation in the 60’s, 70’s and 80’s, has disbanded but the Keston Institute still exists.  I was able to correspond with Michael Bordeaux, who founded Keston, and obtain permission to put a couple of his books online.  I created a PDF of one, and enquired if it might be hosted here or there — my site isn’t the best place for such — but in vain.  Then pressures of work forced me to lay the matter aside.

Today I have been running “Faith on Trial in Russia”[1] through my scanner.  The pages are yellowed, and the paperback spine is stiff, although thankfully the glue warmed and became flexible as I worked.  It is, neverthless, a risky business scanning a paperback of that period.

The book deals with the sufferings of the Russian baptists, and is an interesting and involving read.  Unlike some such books, it is not a depressing read.

What I think that I will do, is to create a page on my site, and also to OCR the book so that the search engines can find it easily.  It’s pure gold, from a historical point of view.

UPDATE: I’ve now scanned the book, and also his 1983 publication, Risen Indeed.  They’re both here.

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  1. [1]Michael Bordeaux, Faith on Trial in Russia, Hodder and Stoughton, 1971.

Blogging about the Fathers is like seeing airships over Jerusalem

Oops:

Airship Graf Zeppelin in 1931

The site explains:

Two lengthy flights to the Middle East were conducted by the Graf Zeppelin in 1929 and 1931.  The ship’s flight over Jerusalem in 1929 took place at night, and no pictures of the ship were taken.  But the flight in 1931, in daylight, was photographed by the American Colony photographers and by an Armenian photographer in Jerusalem, Elia Kahvedjian.

Mail sacks were supposed to have been dropped from the Graf Zeppelin over Jerusalem, Haifa and Jaffa.  The airships did not moor in Palestine but flew from Germany to Cairo, then over Palestine and then back to Germany.  The flight took 97 hours and traversed some 9,000 kilometers over 14 countries.

I looked to see if there were any images online of the supersonic airliner Concorde in Palestine — it did fly to Amman at least once — but in vain.

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Bodleian to relocate books “to Antarctica”

Yes, it’s true!  The Bodleian library, which receives all books in the UK for free from publishers, has moved all of its books to a large storage facility on a small island off Antarctica!

The Bodleian Libraries are 40 libraries serving Oxford University, including the Bodleian Library founded in 1602.

They are entitled to a copy of every book published in the UK and have been running out of space to store works for decades.

It will be predominantly low-usage books and maps which will be stored at the site …

Staff say that if a reader orders a book before 10am, the book will be fetched back to the central Oxford site “sometime”!  Now that’s service!

Librarian Sarah Thomas said: “This has been an important year in the history of the Bodleian.

“We have tagged and moved all our books, relocated our staff, prepared the New Bodleian building for its redevelopment, opened new facilities for readers in the heart of Oxford and refreshed and developed our IT capabilities.

They add:

The project to relocate the books is now complete and has been hailed as “an extraordinary success”.

Alright, I’m being sarcastic.  But not very; and those are real quotations from the BBC here.

What they’ve actually done is to build a warehouse in Swindon, 28 miles from Oxford, down a slow windy-twisty country lane and comes into town through a major traffic blackspot.

I think they must know that they’ve done something really stupid here.  Indeed I think we can tell that they’ve already had some flack for this one.

Why else would you put a “success” story out on the afternoon of Christmas Eve, unless you wanted no-one to see it?

If you lived in a sane world, you’d build the site on the outskirts of Oxford, on the ring road, perhaps 2-3 miles from the central Oxford site, and you’d build a light railway or monorail or something which ran continuously back and forth.  Wouldn’t you?

The only reason I can think of, for such a location, is that the price of building such a site in Oxford was made artificially high by the local council.  And a Google search reveals an Oxford Mail article stating that, yes, that this is exactly what happened.

Last year, the university was thwarted in its plans to build a £28m book depository on Oxford’s Osney Mead industrial estate after a long planning dispute, and has now bought the Swindon site.

And why?

John Tanner, city council cabinet member for a Cleaner, Greener Oxford, said: “It is a great pity if our planning decision has pushed Oxford’s Bodleian Library to Swindon….”

Green group leader Craig Simmons said: “It is good that the Bodleian was not allowed to build on a flood plain at Osney Mead…”

But there’s a sweeter plum still at the end of the Oxford Mail article, in response to criticism that shuttling books that distance by van wasn’t very “green”:

Dr Thomas said the books stored at Swindon would be predominantly low demand items and there would only be two deliveries a day to Oxford, significantly fewer than the 12 daily van journeys that  would have carried books from Osney Mead.

In which case, what use is the facility? Such is the corruption of our days, that the library actually boasts that its service will be of a poor standard, rather than apologising for it.

Honest men make things work, and do things efficiently.  But we all know what the children are like, of men who have made their own fortunes.  They tend to be spendthrifts.  They throw money away, and posture, expensively, with cash that they didn’t have to sweat to earn.

That’s what is happening here, as it does in the Third World.  Neither side cares about whether things actually work, or whether money is well spent.  Amour propre is more important.  The library is pleased to spite the council, and the councillors are pleased that they showed the library who is boss in order to protect the water-vole (or whatever).  The public interest be damned, it seems.

I don’t know whether the new folly storage facility has been named.  Perhaps I might propose something, that reflects all this.

Why don’t they name it after Paris Hilton?

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From my diary

Tomorrow is Christmas day.  But it is also Sunday and so, of course, I shall not be using my computer.  Allow me to wish all my readers a Merry Christmas today, therefore.

I’ve just been pottering around today.

It’s also the season to think about trips.  For a couple of years I have felt that I would like to go to see the Northern Lights.  You have to do these things, before you get to the age when everything is too much trouble.  But it is remarkably difficult to find decent tours online.  Icelandair do something, but it looks very much like a flight plus a room plus a local tour, which, if you travel alone, means that you will spend most of your time alone.  I gather that it is best to go at the New Moon when there is as little moonlight as possible.  This will mean going in late January, which risks conflicting with the start of a new contract.

Earlier today I discovered that I had little more than 1 Gb of free space remaining on my hard disk.  A quick check of the Ibn Abi Usaibia directories revealed that these were taking up around 80 Gb — not bad going, when you consider that all the images fitted onto a DVD originally.  It turns out that the Abbyy Finereader 10 directory takes up nearly all of  that.  Quite why Finereader now requires so much space I do not know.

Fortunately I have the answer: my two 1,000 Gb back-up drives have more than enough space, so I am placing a copy of the directory on each of these, and removing it from my hard disk.  Suddenly I shall be back in business!

I’m rather missing Ibn Abi Usaibia.  Without that to OCR, I’m at something of a loss!  And I can’t quite face grappling with the Origen book just yet.

Sales of the Eusebius book are still doing well.  Indeed I have had enough orders directly that today I was forced to set up a spreadsheet to keep track of them, after I started to think that I must have sent a hardback twice to one bookseller.  Another bookseller, LICOSA, from Italy, have not troubled to pay for the book that I sent them, I find.  Italian booksellers seem slow to pay.

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More (very small) images of the Septizonium

Another website caught my eye yesterday, while I was surfing around looking for old maps and depictions of Rome.  This one consisted of a lot of images of the Palatine hill in Rome.  I am, in truth, not that sure what I am looking at; is this, perhaps, material from a book?

The images themselves are very interesting, but, O! so tiny.  Why?

Some of these show the now vanished remains of the Septizodium, which is rightly seen as part of the Palatine constructions.  All that remained by this time was one end of the massive facade on three levels that Septimus Severus had built across the end of the Palatine.

The first of these shows it on the left of the image:

Hieronymus Cock, Praecipua aliquot Romanae, Blatt K (Riggs 12), 1550: Septizonium, Aqua Claudia, and other ruins

Moving to the left, we see the Septizonium again, with the arcade behind it.  The latter still stands, of course. The valley to the left is the Circus Maximus.

Hieronymus Cock, Praecipua aliquot Romanae, Blatt L (Riggs 13), 1550: Septizonium, Arcade, thermae of Maxentius

The viewer now turns right and looks up the road to the Colloseum.  The Septizonium is thus seen end-on.

Hieronymus Cock, Praecipua aliquot Romanae, Blatt P (Riggs 17), 1551: Septizonium and Colosseum

But something is wrong about the perspective here — I don’t believe that the Colosseum was that close, nor in quite that position.

The next item is a map, which shows something at the place where the Septizonium stood.  The Palatine hill is next to the Circus Maximus: but if you look at the road that runs from the upper section of the Circus up along the top of the Palatine, you see something just at the point where the road kinks left.

If only we had a high-resolution image!

The next item is an aerial view by Du Perac, which shows the Septizonium in just that position.  In this case we’re looking south, and I have ventured to circle the item.

Étienne Duperac Nova urbis Romae descriptio, 1577, Detail: Palatin

Once you get to know the shape of that stubby tower-like fragment, and start to look for it, it pops out at you in all sorts of images.

The next item is far more useful.

Anonymous Italian artist, early 16th century: the Septizonium from the North

Again, I wish it were bigger.  And I wish we had some more details, but a plan is very useful.

A rare rear view of the Septizonium now:

Maarten van Heemskerck, Heemskerck Album II, fol. 14 r, 1532–1537: substructures of the Circus Maximus, Septizonium, therma of Maxentius

Again a larger image would be useful.  It looks very ramshackle from this angle, doesn’t it?  Maybe this is why it was demolished; that it was already collapsing?

Next a clearer image:

Anonymus Mantovanus A, Heemskerck Album II, fol. 87 v–85 r, 1539–1560: Septizonium, Domus Severiana, Arcade, Maxentius thermae

I have not even exhausted all the images of the Septizonium on that page, yet already I think we know the monument better.  There are also notes at the foot of the page, indicating precisely where each image comes from (and well done, there!)

I’m entirely a novice at this business of finding images.  What I wish, tho, is that there was some way to get much better quality images online.

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A cork model of the arch of Titus in Rome

A delightful illustrated article here about reconstructing the appearance of ancient Rome.  One item in it caught my eye:

Arch of Titus - Cork model by Antonio Chichi

The article adds:

Among the most useful visual resources for studying the ancient city are the  physical models which, since the eighteenth century, architects started to  provide to help scholars and students better understand the ancient remains.

The pioneer was the famous cork-modeler, Antonio Chichi, who lived from 1743  to 1816. He created a set of 36 of the great sites of ancient Rome. Sold to  Grand Tourists, they served as souvenirs but also as study aids (cf. Wilton  and Bignamini 1996: 298) analogous to plaster casts of famous Greek and Roman  statues, which, not coincidentally, as Giuseppe Pucci has shown, also came  into vogue at this time (Pucci 1997).

As can be seen in the case of the model  of the Arch of Titus (fig. 9), Chichi’s reproductions were state models, not reconstructions:  that is, they showed the current condition of the monument.

In the example at  hand, we thus see the arch still embedded within the Frangipane tower before  Valadier’s restoration of the early nineteenth century.

Marvellous!

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Russian translation of Methodius now online

Some time back I discovered that a Russian translation existed of the works of Methodius of Olympus (d.311 AD).  This is significant, since most of the works of Methodius known today have survived only in Old Slavic, or Old Russian.

The translation was made by Evgraf Loviagin, and the 2nd edition appeared in St. Petersburg in 1905.  A copy exists in the University of Chicago library, and they agreed to digitise this if I sent them $20.  A colleague with a US bank account kindly wrote me a cheque for that amount, and off it went.

This evening I can announce a little Christmas present for us all, courtesy of the University of Chicago: Loviagin is now online.  They haven’t managed to upload the PDF to their own site yet — I’ll post the URL once I know it.  It is undoubtedly public domain, since Loviagin died in 1909.  So I have uploaded it to Archive.org, where you can access it here.

Not quite sure what it contains.  Here’s the table of contents (from the back, of course):

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Lanciani’s Forma Urbis Romae

For some years I have been aware that a detailed modern map of ancient Rome existed, with the modern street layout superimposed on it.  Bits of it cropped up in this publication or that, but never referenced.  Quite by accident this evening I found out what it was — Rudolpho Lanciani’s Forma Urbis Romae, a collection of plates published between 1893-1901.

Parts of it are online here, although I must confess that I’d really like to see PDF’s of the whole plates.  If you burrow into that site, you do get to some decent JPG’s.

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Galen on Jews and Christians

The Roman medical writer Galen (d. 199 AD) refers to Jewish or Christian ideas in six places in his works.

Some of the works of Galen involved no longer exist in Greek, and the Arabic translation has to be used.  In some cases the Arabic translation also has perished — although we know from Hunayn Ibn Ishaq that he translated it — and all we have is quotations in later writers.

Unfortunately Walzer, who published a monograph on the subject in 1949[1] did so in a very confused manner.  It was nearly impossible to work out from his text what precisely he was giving us, and from where.  Nor was it possible to see what the context of the quotations was.

It was as part of this process that I encountered Ibn Abi Usaibia, and was led to put an English translation online.

I have now transcribed these six passages, organised the material in a logical manner, looked up material that Walzer did not include, and compiled a web page of it all.

The result is here.  I hope it will be useful.

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  1. [1]R. Walzer, Galen on Jews and Christians, Oxford, 1949.