Two discs of stiff pasteboard, an outer wheel printed with the alphabet and a smaller inner wheel printed with the numbers one through nine, joined at the center by a brass eyelet so the inner disc turns freely against the outer. Eighteen centimeters across, matte and litho-printed in a single deep ink, it lies flat on a desk and turns with a faint, satisfying friction.
A volvelle is an old instrument, a wheel of rotating paper discs that medieval and Renaissance makers used to reckon calendars, tides, and the motions of the stars. This one is turned to a gentler purpose. Numerology, the practice of assigning a number to each letter, holds by old custom that a name summed and reduced to a single digit carries something of a person's character, and the wheel does the summing for you.
The number assignment printed here follows the Pythagorean system, one through nine cycling across the alphabet, rather than the older Chaldean order some readers prefer; the choice is noted in the booklet for anyone who wants to reckon by hand instead. Each wheel is die-cut from heavy board and riveted by hand, so the discs turn with a little resistance rather than spinning loose, and the printing is a warm charcoal rather than stark black.
To read a name, turn the inner wheel to line the letters against their numbers, note each in turn, then add them and reduce until a single digit remains. The booklet gives the traditional character of each. A slow instrument for a slow question, and a handsome thing to leave out on a desk.