Re-reading my previous post, I can’t help but smile at my somewhat naive but nevertheless brave attempt at creating a happy bubble in the midst of what I first thought to be a large tornado but has since escalated to several off-the-scale-category-1000-hurricanes blowing across the world all at once (against the backdrop of the annihilation of earth itself). I am of course referring to the current state of global affairs. Not sure how to stay clear-headed in these turbulent times, so in the meantime I’ll just continue with my happy bubble writing:
The search for the ‘good’ middle fingers (as opposed to the horrible ones) presents a problem in itself. Because isn’t it all about perspective when it comes to determining what is a good or a bad middle finger?! NOOOOO!! (picture me shaking my head vigorously). As I hope to describe by means of the promised examples, the middle fingers I am particularly interested in are the ones that aren’t clenched middle finger gestures. Remember the saying ‘when you point one finger, three point back to you?’ Well, I think we all need reminding of the long-since forgotten/ignored meaning of this pointing fingers gesture: before you blame others, first look at yourself.
I’ve discovered the same holds for the middle finger gestures I most admire: it’s the specific gesture held up but not clenched tight in a fist. So, firmly holding the middle finger upright whilst allowing the other fingers to relax to their natural position (which turns out to be also pointing to yourself). Go on, try it (perhaps not in a public place). This type of middle finger (as opposed to the clenched, rigid, either-or, uncompromising, egotistical, narcissistic, my-way-or-the-highway middle-fingered-fist) exudes a little bit of self-deprecation, acknowledgement that you are NOT all-knowing, and keeps the door open for discussions and grey areas.
Note to all those holding up clenched-fist middle fingers: if you cannot raise a loosely-fisted middle finger, then please just sit on your hands as was my fourth-grade teacher’s strategy for keeping excitable children quiet.
An art exhibition
Ok, finally the examples as promised in the previous post. First up: ‘A Confrontation at the Zoo’ by artist Michaël Borremans at Voorlinden (yes, I do recognise that this is a private museum and so in itself is a smallish clenched middle finger to ‘accessible art’, given its very expensive entry fee, but … grey areas!).
The title ‘A Confrontation at the Zoo’ is what drew me to this exhibition in the first place. If ever there was a time to plagiarise (which there isn’t!), it would be now, by ‘recycling’ the title of this particular exhibition for a blog post about the world in 2025. The other thing that drew me to it was the painting featured on the exhibition catalogue, called The Monkey (the oil on canvas painting is that of a porcelain monkey dressed up in human clothes; can you imagine a more accurate and timely depiction of any of the clenched-middle-finger-men currently in the news?!).
Mind you, I had no clue who Michaël Borremans was, so I didn’t have any expectations of the exhibition itself. I wasn’t disappointed. His paintings are, each in their own way, a middle finger to the audience, art critics, and the human predicament in general. But not in an aggressive, confrontational way. These paintings are more like: ‘meh, I don’t care if you find me attractive, engaging, relatable, understandable, shocking, etc., I’m just going to keep on doing my own thing anyway.’ The people in Borremans’ paintings often have vacant, deadpan looks, and avoid eye contact at all costs. The monumental portraits of figures wearing ludicrous costumes with their faces covered might be a bit unsettling and slightly absurd, but in an odd way, very much relatable. All in all, I found this exhibition a respectable middle finger to convention, the traditional, the conservative, and what true art is supposed to be.
A book (or two)
Another, perhaps for some a more blatant middle finger but an oh so eloquently expressed and well thought out one (whatever your traditional political persuasion is), is Naomi Klein’s Doppelganger: A Trip into the Mirror World. The audiobook accompanied me on my shorter and longer commutes over the past couple of months. I immensely appreciated her enlightening, and at the same time, very personal journey into the world of conspiracies and beyond.
I was going to keep it at this book, but then, whilst on self-imposed bed rest two Sundays ago, I read Toni Morrison’s Recitatif with an introduction by Zadie Smith. I had been given this book as a present a few birthdays ago with the strict instructions to first read the short story by Toni Morrison and only afterwards read the introduction by Zadie Smith. Long story short: I give it a 5-star middle finger rating (although my head hurts when I think about it too much). On the surface the short story was a deceptively light but mind-niggling read. Then came Smith’s introduction, and my brain-addled oohs and ahhs just kept on coming, rather like the constant barrage of executive orders and verbal diarrhoea/diarrhea we’ve been prone to recently.
And a film
The need for abovementioned bed rest was a result of watching this film on a Wednesday night during the two-week International Film Festival Rotterdam 2025 (IFFR 2025).
My friend and I picked ‘The Slow Man and His Raft’, a film set in Bengal, India about a travelling circus and a motion-impaired man. We might have slightly underestimated the literal meaning of the film title (it lasted 179 minutes and that didn’t even include a Q&A session afterwards). The middle finger factor of this film was manifold. A middle finger to our current fast-paced, to-do list obsessed society, a middle finger to the 24/7 action-packed entertainment world, a middle finger to money-making exploitation, a middle finger to what is considered ‘normal’, the list goes on and on (and so did the film).
Before I, myself, go on and on, I will wrap up this Part II post by wishing you all a productive (but inclusive) inspirational middle finger quest of your own. Admittedly, I am struggling to stay focused on my search for inspired middle fingers, but when I do manage to shake myself out of this nightmare, this crusade has put me in a far better ‘headspace’ than before…
p.s. Another special mention (of a film I watched during the IFFR): Memoir of a Snail! It is an absolute gem.
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