The Mystery of the Turkish Map: Solved

  

As an amateur map collector, I find that sometimes my acquisitions can be hit or miss. Sometimes I buy something and it turns out I make a great purchase from someone who may not realize exactly how good an item they're selling, and sometimes I pay too much for something I think is beautiful, but is not really an item of any value other than the aesthetic.

I wrote here about my second ever map purchase. It was this beauty:

I explained a bit about how I came to doubt its authenticity as an antique, and how I could not find anything else like it anywhere. It turns out, not only was I right to doubt it's age, but I should have questioned whether or not it was truly a map, or meant as one.

When I originally posted about this map, I tweeted about it to my followers and hoped that someone could have some insight for me. I dug a bit deeper after a commentor on the blog suggested I try reaching out to Turkish diplomatic missions, which I did. This turned out to be an excellent suggestion.

In a triumph of digital diplomacy, the Turkish Embassy in Dublin responded relativley quickly. I'll reproduce their helpful reply.

1. Dear Mr. Cory, It’s a map of Istanbul & theBosphorus with a portrait of what looks like Sultan Mehmed IV(1648-1687) the letters are what seem to be or resemble old Ottoman Turkish alphabet but a colleague who is familiar with the old alphabet said some letters didn’t+

— TurkishEmbassyDublin (@TC_Dublin) January 10, 2018

2.+look accurate, so hard to tell details. Perhaps the admins of these2 sites may be able to help as they have many similar images. https://t.co/kKBsFHDrIa & https://t.co/50rsnRYywk

— TurkishEmbassyDublin (@TC_Dublin) January 10, 2018

So right away, I received more information on my map than I had ever had. I knew the name of the man in the image on the map and learned that not only might the map be new, but that the language may not be right. I reached out to the two twitter accounts the Embassy suggested and heard back, fairly quickly from the very friendly person behind @JourneyHistory.

He responded that the map, wasn't really a map, was a modern miniature painting, made to look like it was in the Ottoman style, and on paper that was probably distressed, to make it look old. He sent me a link to dozens of images, none of which are maps, but many of which have a strong stylistic resemblance to my piece. 

For example:



What's more, I was told that the writing on the artwork may actually be complete gibberish. Essentially, the equivalent of mashing the keys on your keyboard and putting whatever comes out into fancy calligraphy. His theory being that not many people read that language any longer, and that the artists making these images probably even less so.

Another helpful commentor on my blog, the helpful and friendly Halim, suggested that it's possible that the writing on the map is another language transliterated, maybe Italian or Ladino. Ladino, or Judaeo-Spanish would be especially interesting, given that it was a language spoken primarily by Jews in the Ottoman Empire. A group that would not ever have represented a majority, and also strange for a modern artist to use.

So, thanks to this blog, the powers of the internet and what I believe is a human inclination to bend towards kindness and helpfulness, I have an answer to my own, personal map mystery: My map is not a map, it's basically just a painting, and it is not old, nor is the paper it's on likely to be. That said, it remains on my wall because it's beautiful, and it now comes with an even better story.

6 Things That Make Monte's 16th Century Planisphere One of the Coolest Maps

I recently came across this article about a map from 1587 that has so many fascinating elements, it's hard to know where to start, and impossible to imagine someone not being fascinated by it.

1) First, the map is huge. It's comprised of 60 pages which are to be arranged in a circle, adding up to a 10 foot by 10 foot map.

2) Second, the map has a unique perspective, looking at the world from the Arctic down. Indeed, the north pole itself is shown as being covered by some sort of landmass, and Canada's Arctic listed as new, unknown lands.

3) Third, it seems, little is known about the mapmaker himself. A quote from the article:

Historians know some basic details about the cartographer who created the map, Urbano Monte (1544-1613), a nobleman who lived in Milan, in northern Italy. When he was 35, Monte married 18-year-old Margarita Niguarda, and they had four sons and one daughter. Because of his family's status and affluence, Monte didn't have to work. Rather, he spent his time collecting books for his renowned library and pursued scholarly interests...

It's amazing to me to think of this man of great wealth and leisure choosing to pass his time this way, collecting information about the world and embarking on creating such a massive map.  Another fascinating detail is that the mapmaker met with the first ever official Japanese diplomatic mission to Europe. It's wonderful to imagine that scene. In a world where Japanese and Europeans may have been alien to one another, how would they have communicated? What subjects might they have discussed? How would they have regarded one another?

4) Fourth, the mythology of the map is stunning. It's filled with sea creatures, strange beasts and mermaids. Why did the mapmaker include these things? Did he think they were beautiful, was it simply common to have such things on maps, or did a European in the time of the Renaissance truly believe such creatures existed? There are some outstanding images of the map and these creatures here.

5) Fifth, this map takes a political and historic snapshot of the world at the time of its making. It lets us know who the various world leaders are. Tells us about them, shows us where their fleets have reached, all in addition to showing us where their territory extends, not only in lands that were known to Europeans at the time, but also in the Americas, only recently coming under exploration and European settlement.

6) Sixth, and finally, on a personal note, I love how this map depicts some places I know. For example, my home province of Quebec is referred to as the Province of Canada. Quebec City is labeled as Stadacona, it's original name, and my hometown on Montreal is known by its original name, Hochelaga. The Great Lakes do not appear on the map. This awesome site allows you to scroll around and zoom in on the map. I could spend hours...