A Handy Tool
How often have we praised someone’s handiwork? It could be a fine painting, a patchwork quilt, the way they play Chopin’s etudes or the way they pitch a tent. Aristotle praised the hand as “the instrument for instruments” - the hand that holds the pen, the paintbrush, the tennis racquet, the surgical instrument, the hoe, the steering wheel or the reigns of a horse; the hand that touches the keys of a piano, a computer keyboard, or the braille symbols in a book. Aristotle considered the hand and the intellect as the “two inner instruments with which we use outer instruments.”
It is not simply a matter of what we can do with our hands. More importantly, it is what we can do with all the instruments we can grasp in our hands, and the way the brain and the hand interact to complete the task. From earliest times, the mechanism of the hand was seen as perfectly designed for grasping or apprehension, and isn’t it interesting that apprehension in both Latin and English assumed the dual meaning of physically grasping something or intellectually grasping a new concept or idea?
Just like the faculty of reason separates the human from the animal mind, the opposing thumb separates the human hand from its animal counterpart. Indeed, Aristotle was of the opinion that “man received hands because he was the most intelligent.” “Nature”, he said, “like an intelligent person, always distributes instruments according to the recipient’s ability to use them.” Unfortunately, it’s that very opposing thumb and supposed intelligence that has made humans so adept at manipulating weapons of war throughout the centuries. But weapons aside, nature in her wisdom decided that we humans were the most suitable recipients for a host of other more useful or pleasing implements. You wouldn’t give an elephant a violin or even a double bass, not only because it wouldn’t have the hands to play it, but more importantly because it would not have the intellectual capacity to manipulate anything as adaptable as the human hand; play the human hand, as it were. It would, metaphorically speaking, be "all fingers and thumbs".
Eighth century Anglo-Saxon monk and scholar, Venerable Bede, appreciated the human intellect’s capacity for manipulation when he described a system of finger numerals for 1 to 9,999 in his Ecclesiastical History of the English People. The middle finger, ring finger and little finger of the left hand represented single digits, while the thumb and index finger represented tens. The thumb and index finger on the right hand represented hundreds, while the middle, ring and little fingers represented thousands. The venerable monk then described the finger gymnastics required for saying a number. It’s worse than trying to do simple addition with Roman numerals. I failed on ‘1’ because it requires bending the little finger into the middle joint of the palm. Trying to do this without bending the ring finger also is impossible, and makes me marvel all the more at those who are highly proficient at sign language. From 10,000 onward it gets easier as only gestures were needed. One million was expressed by clasping both hands together over your head with the fingers interlaced. EuroMillions jackpot winners would have to do this well over one hundred times! Bede was ahead of his time in that he regarded the hand as a veritable computing machine, explaining how the nineteen joints and nails in the left hand could be used to memorise the lunar cycle, or how the twenty-eight joints in both hands could be used to memorise the solar cycles.
If you were not familiar with the complexities of old time finger counting you would not have recognised the mystical significance St. Jerome and St. Augustine of Hippo attached to numbers. In the Parable of the Sower in St. Matthew’s Gospel St. Jerome states that the bringing forth of the fruit "thirty-fold" symbolises marriage. He concluded this because the finger gesture for thirty using the index finger and thumb of the left hand represents the joining together of a husband and wife. The mystical significance of "hundred-fold" was the exact opposite of "thirty-fold". It represented virginity because it used the same gesture but on the right hand. "Sixty-fold" was said to symbolise widowhood because the finger gesture for sixty whereby the thumb presses down on the index finger represents the "weight of the tribulation which widowhood bears.” I think that between them, these saintly men could have devised an excellently challenging question for the Leaving Certificate Higher maths paper.
But counting on fingers could also be your undoing. Graham Flegg, author of Numbers: Their History and Meaning, recounts how a Japanese girl tried to pass herself off as Chinese during the Second World War. She betrayed her identity by the way she counted on her fingers. She did it the Japanese way, beginning with an open hand and closing the fingers, unlike the Chinese who begin with a closed hand and open the fingers. Ordering drinks could also be a risky business during the Second World War, especially if you are a British spy named Archie Hicox masquerading as a German officer as depicted in the famous basement bar scene in the Quentin Tarantino movie Inglorious Basterds. Hicox orders three whiskeys using his index, middle and ring finger instead of using the German convention of thumb, index and middle fingers; the rest is cinema history.
It’s all in the Hand
Being such a diverse instrument, and appreciated as such by scholars and thinkers throughout the ages, the hand has attracted its own nomenclature. One of the many naming systems for the fingers can be found in the writings of Isidore of Seville in the sixth century. Here’s how he categorised our fingers. He considered the thumb to be the premier digit due to its unique rotating and grasping ability as well as its position. How often have you hung that extra bag of shopping on your thumb when you just had no other way of carrying it? The index finger was considered to point towards knowledge (although no mention is made of its most popular route to that knowledge being through the nose). The medius, or middle finger was also known as impudicus or shameless because of its association with a certain indecent and apparently timeless gesture commonly seen in drunken brawls. The fourth digit was known as the medicus, because of an ancient belief that a vein in this finger led directly to the heart. It was also known as the annularis or ring finger. The small finger was known as the minimus, auricularis or ear finger because of its popular cleaning function especially beloved in contemporary times by motorists sitting in traffic jams.
With religion flourishing alongside superstition in medieval Europe, the hand was also an important aid to religious contemplation, the fingers identifying each of the five stages of meditation. A woodcut entitled The Hand as the Mirror of Salvation dating from 1466, and probably emanating from Holland, depicts the palm side of the left hand. The mighty thumb represents God’s will, while the index finger represents examination of the conscience. The middle finger represents repentance, and the ring finger represents confession. The small finger represents satisfaction. Finally, words written on the joints of each finger break down the series of steps you must follow to reach each of the five states.
Let’s shake on it
One hand gesture whose meaning can be cloaked is the handshake. It can be familiar and friendly, guarded, conciliatory, or intimidating, and it is for this very reason that the left-handed Julius Caesar cleverly instructed his subjects to adopt the right-handed handshake. This ensured that his weapon hand was always free in case he might be greeting a foe rather than a friend. Preference for the right-handed greeting can also be appreciated when you consider that in most cases the weapon hands were clasped together in the handshake giving neither party an advantage, unless of course you happened to be left-handed. The Romans were also responsible for introducing the right-handed salute adopted by Nazis and fascists alike almost 2,000 years later - the hand gesture that was instrumental in Hitler’s and Mussolini’s rise to power.
Of course, throughout history, many cultures have discouraged left-handedness, especially Christians, who viewed the devil as being left-handed, and therefore claimed that left-handed people were "doing Satan's work." Notwithstanding its sinister associations, the Kerr clan from Scotland were not intimidated by the superstitions surrounding left-handedness, but rather like Julius Caesar they changed the rules to their advantage. So many of them were left-handed that they built the staircases in their castles to spiral counter-clockwise, making them easier to defend for left-handed swordsmen. This was an important tweak to the standard design of medieval castles where spiral staircases ran clockwise because all knights were right-handed. When the intruding army climbed the stairs they would not be able to use their right, or sword hand, because they needed it to climb the stairs. Left-handed knights would have had no difficulty, but regrettably, left-handed people were barred from becoming knights because it was assumed that they were descendants of the devil.
Unlike Julius Caesar, the West African Ashanti people favoured the left–handed handshake, bravery rather than personal safety being uppermost in their minds. When Colonel Baden-Powell first entered their capital city, Kumasi, in 1890, a warrior chief holding out his left hand greeted him. When Baden-Powell proffered his right hand in return the Chief explained that in his country the "bravest of the brave" shook with the left hand. Since a warrior used the left hand to hold the shield, and the right hand to hold the spears, he had to lay down his shield, his only protection, to show his trust in someone, and greet them by holding out the left hand. This is apparently where the “left handshake” in the Scout movement originated.
The safety precautions of our weapon wielding, feudal ancestors also determined the side of the road we now drive on. As most people are right-handed it made sense to carry any protective weapon in this hand. So, when you passed a stranger on the road, it would be safer to walk on the left, so ensuring that your weapon was between yourself and a possible enemy. But another powerful leader who happened to be left-handed, decided to change this practice of walking on the left. Napoleon Bonaparte had his armies march on the right so that he could keep his sword arm between him and the advancing enemy. Subsequently, any country that was colonised by the French would drive on the right-hand side of the road.
Napoleon’s wife Josephine also happened to be left handed making them one of the most famous left-handed couples in history, but not of course for being left handed!
The Hand in Art
The role of the hand has not been lost in great art. Albrecht Dürer's visceral woodcut Doubting Thomas depicts the hand as an instrument of enquiry and skepticism as well as being an instrument of encouragement and instruction. It shows the doubter putting his fingers into the wound in Christ’s side to confirm the Resurrection, while Christ holds his hand and guides him. In a lighter vein, Lucas van Leyden’s tragi-comic The Dentist depicts the hand as an instrument of pain and pilferage as the unfortunate patient is simultaneously having his tooth extracted and his pocket picked. In The Anatomy Lesson of Dr. Nicolaes Tulp Rembrandt depicts said doctor dissecting the hand, while Leonardo Da Vinci dissected it himself, so fascinated was he by its complexity. This complexity can be fully appreciated by scientists trying to create robotic hands to perform only a single task, like unscrewing a bottle cap.
From a less scientific perspective, Caravaggio portrays the hands as instruments of deceit. In The Fortune Teller, a slightly coy looking gypsy reads the palm of a handsome young noble, who is at least temporarily besotted by her amorous glances. In The Cardsharps five hands enact the unfolding drama – two belonging to the noble young victim, two belonging to the deceiver and belonging one to his assistant lurking in the background.
It is mainly through the hand that we bestow touch on the people around us, and this touch encompasses all human feeling and emotion. We hit out or shake a fist in anger, salute in friendly recognition, wield a weapon in defence or attack, scratch our head in puzzlement, or point the finger of accusation or betrayal, although in the case of Judas Iscariot, he opted for a kiss. Helkiah Crooke in his Description of the Body of Man, published in 1615 considers the hand in an emotional context. “By our hands we promise, we call, we dismisse, we threaten, we entreate, we abhorre, we fear, yea and by our hands we can aske a question.”
But to return to Leonardo Da Vinci though, he planned to unravel the mystery of the workings of the hand in eight demonstrations. These would literally be working diagrams of the bones, binding tendons and ligaments, muscles, the deep tendons of motion that operate the tips of the fingers, the tendons of the lower joints of the fingers, the nerves, the veins and arteries, and finally the superficial anatomy of the whole hand. Never one to shirk from a seemingly impossible task, Leonardo also aspired to compare the hands of an old man with the hands of a child. This would include depicting all the muscles as threads so that you could see their relationship to each other, and drawing all the bones separated from each other in exploded diagrams. It is not surprising to learn that he never in fact completed this ambitious project.
Just consider the Latin word for hand - manus - and look at some of the English words that are derived from it, for example manual and manipulate. These words remind us that the hand grasps and deftly uses tools to probe for hidden knowledge or make new discoveries. Archaeologists do this with the trowel, biologists do it with the microscope, and in this knowledge-based information age we all do it with the computer keyboard.
Jacob Bronowski, author of The Ascent of Man, reminds us that it took a million years for the human hand to drive the brain and for the brain to feed back and drive the hand to reach its present stage of evolution. It’s still a work in progress and who knows where it will end?
Copyright Berni Dwan 2005, 2015, 2020
How often have we praised someone’s handiwork? It could be a fine painting, a patchwork quilt, the way they play Chopin’s etudes or the way they pitch a tent. Aristotle praised the hand as “the instrument for instruments” - the hand that holds the pen, the paintbrush, the tennis racquet, the surgical instrument, the hoe, the steering wheel or the reigns of a horse; the hand that touches the keys of a piano, a computer keyboard, or the braille symbols in a book. Aristotle considered the hand and the intellect as the “two inner instruments with which we use outer instruments.”
It is not simply a matter of what we can do with our hands. More importantly, it is what we can do with all the instruments we can grasp in our hands, and the way the brain and the hand interact to complete the task. From earliest times, the mechanism of the hand was seen as perfectly designed for grasping or apprehension, and isn’t it interesting that apprehension in both Latin and English assumed the dual meaning of physically grasping something or intellectually grasping a new concept or idea?
Just like the faculty of reason separates the human from the animal mind, the opposing thumb separates the human hand from its animal counterpart. Indeed, Aristotle was of the opinion that “man received hands because he was the most intelligent.” “Nature”, he said, “like an intelligent person, always distributes instruments according to the recipient’s ability to use them.” Unfortunately, it’s that very opposing thumb and supposed intelligence that has made humans so adept at manipulating weapons of war throughout the centuries. But weapons aside, nature in her wisdom decided that we humans were the most suitable recipients for a host of other more useful or pleasing implements. You wouldn’t give an elephant a violin or even a double bass, not only because it wouldn’t have the hands to play it, but more importantly because it would not have the intellectual capacity to manipulate anything as adaptable as the human hand; play the human hand, as it were. It would, metaphorically speaking, be "all fingers and thumbs".
Eighth century Anglo-Saxon monk and scholar, Venerable Bede, appreciated the human intellect’s capacity for manipulation when he described a system of finger numerals for 1 to 9,999 in his Ecclesiastical History of the English People. The middle finger, ring finger and little finger of the left hand represented single digits, while the thumb and index finger represented tens. The thumb and index finger on the right hand represented hundreds, while the middle, ring and little fingers represented thousands. The venerable monk then described the finger gymnastics required for saying a number. It’s worse than trying to do simple addition with Roman numerals. I failed on ‘1’ because it requires bending the little finger into the middle joint of the palm. Trying to do this without bending the ring finger also is impossible, and makes me marvel all the more at those who are highly proficient at sign language. From 10,000 onward it gets easier as only gestures were needed. One million was expressed by clasping both hands together over your head with the fingers interlaced. EuroMillions jackpot winners would have to do this well over one hundred times! Bede was ahead of his time in that he regarded the hand as a veritable computing machine, explaining how the nineteen joints and nails in the left hand could be used to memorise the lunar cycle, or how the twenty-eight joints in both hands could be used to memorise the solar cycles.
If you were not familiar with the complexities of old time finger counting you would not have recognised the mystical significance St. Jerome and St. Augustine of Hippo attached to numbers. In the Parable of the Sower in St. Matthew’s Gospel St. Jerome states that the bringing forth of the fruit "thirty-fold" symbolises marriage. He concluded this because the finger gesture for thirty using the index finger and thumb of the left hand represents the joining together of a husband and wife. The mystical significance of "hundred-fold" was the exact opposite of "thirty-fold". It represented virginity because it used the same gesture but on the right hand. "Sixty-fold" was said to symbolise widowhood because the finger gesture for sixty whereby the thumb presses down on the index finger represents the "weight of the tribulation which widowhood bears.” I think that between them, these saintly men could have devised an excellently challenging question for the Leaving Certificate Higher maths paper.
But counting on fingers could also be your undoing. Graham Flegg, author of Numbers: Their History and Meaning, recounts how a Japanese girl tried to pass herself off as Chinese during the Second World War. She betrayed her identity by the way she counted on her fingers. She did it the Japanese way, beginning with an open hand and closing the fingers, unlike the Chinese who begin with a closed hand and open the fingers. Ordering drinks could also be a risky business during the Second World War, especially if you are a British spy named Archie Hicox masquerading as a German officer as depicted in the famous basement bar scene in the Quentin Tarantino movie Inglorious Basterds. Hicox orders three whiskeys using his index, middle and ring finger instead of using the German convention of thumb, index and middle fingers; the rest is cinema history.
It’s all in the Hand
Being such a diverse instrument, and appreciated as such by scholars and thinkers throughout the ages, the hand has attracted its own nomenclature. One of the many naming systems for the fingers can be found in the writings of Isidore of Seville in the sixth century. Here’s how he categorised our fingers. He considered the thumb to be the premier digit due to its unique rotating and grasping ability as well as its position. How often have you hung that extra bag of shopping on your thumb when you just had no other way of carrying it? The index finger was considered to point towards knowledge (although no mention is made of its most popular route to that knowledge being through the nose). The medius, or middle finger was also known as impudicus or shameless because of its association with a certain indecent and apparently timeless gesture commonly seen in drunken brawls. The fourth digit was known as the medicus, because of an ancient belief that a vein in this finger led directly to the heart. It was also known as the annularis or ring finger. The small finger was known as the minimus, auricularis or ear finger because of its popular cleaning function especially beloved in contemporary times by motorists sitting in traffic jams.
With religion flourishing alongside superstition in medieval Europe, the hand was also an important aid to religious contemplation, the fingers identifying each of the five stages of meditation. A woodcut entitled The Hand as the Mirror of Salvation dating from 1466, and probably emanating from Holland, depicts the palm side of the left hand. The mighty thumb represents God’s will, while the index finger represents examination of the conscience. The middle finger represents repentance, and the ring finger represents confession. The small finger represents satisfaction. Finally, words written on the joints of each finger break down the series of steps you must follow to reach each of the five states.
Let’s shake on it
One hand gesture whose meaning can be cloaked is the handshake. It can be familiar and friendly, guarded, conciliatory, or intimidating, and it is for this very reason that the left-handed Julius Caesar cleverly instructed his subjects to adopt the right-handed handshake. This ensured that his weapon hand was always free in case he might be greeting a foe rather than a friend. Preference for the right-handed greeting can also be appreciated when you consider that in most cases the weapon hands were clasped together in the handshake giving neither party an advantage, unless of course you happened to be left-handed. The Romans were also responsible for introducing the right-handed salute adopted by Nazis and fascists alike almost 2,000 years later - the hand gesture that was instrumental in Hitler’s and Mussolini’s rise to power.
Of course, throughout history, many cultures have discouraged left-handedness, especially Christians, who viewed the devil as being left-handed, and therefore claimed that left-handed people were "doing Satan's work." Notwithstanding its sinister associations, the Kerr clan from Scotland were not intimidated by the superstitions surrounding left-handedness, but rather like Julius Caesar they changed the rules to their advantage. So many of them were left-handed that they built the staircases in their castles to spiral counter-clockwise, making them easier to defend for left-handed swordsmen. This was an important tweak to the standard design of medieval castles where spiral staircases ran clockwise because all knights were right-handed. When the intruding army climbed the stairs they would not be able to use their right, or sword hand, because they needed it to climb the stairs. Left-handed knights would have had no difficulty, but regrettably, left-handed people were barred from becoming knights because it was assumed that they were descendants of the devil.
Unlike Julius Caesar, the West African Ashanti people favoured the left–handed handshake, bravery rather than personal safety being uppermost in their minds. When Colonel Baden-Powell first entered their capital city, Kumasi, in 1890, a warrior chief holding out his left hand greeted him. When Baden-Powell proffered his right hand in return the Chief explained that in his country the "bravest of the brave" shook with the left hand. Since a warrior used the left hand to hold the shield, and the right hand to hold the spears, he had to lay down his shield, his only protection, to show his trust in someone, and greet them by holding out the left hand. This is apparently where the “left handshake” in the Scout movement originated.
The safety precautions of our weapon wielding, feudal ancestors also determined the side of the road we now drive on. As most people are right-handed it made sense to carry any protective weapon in this hand. So, when you passed a stranger on the road, it would be safer to walk on the left, so ensuring that your weapon was between yourself and a possible enemy. But another powerful leader who happened to be left-handed, decided to change this practice of walking on the left. Napoleon Bonaparte had his armies march on the right so that he could keep his sword arm between him and the advancing enemy. Subsequently, any country that was colonised by the French would drive on the right-hand side of the road.
Napoleon’s wife Josephine also happened to be left handed making them one of the most famous left-handed couples in history, but not of course for being left handed!
The Hand in Art
The role of the hand has not been lost in great art. Albrecht Dürer's visceral woodcut Doubting Thomas depicts the hand as an instrument of enquiry and skepticism as well as being an instrument of encouragement and instruction. It shows the doubter putting his fingers into the wound in Christ’s side to confirm the Resurrection, while Christ holds his hand and guides him. In a lighter vein, Lucas van Leyden’s tragi-comic The Dentist depicts the hand as an instrument of pain and pilferage as the unfortunate patient is simultaneously having his tooth extracted and his pocket picked. In The Anatomy Lesson of Dr. Nicolaes Tulp Rembrandt depicts said doctor dissecting the hand, while Leonardo Da Vinci dissected it himself, so fascinated was he by its complexity. This complexity can be fully appreciated by scientists trying to create robotic hands to perform only a single task, like unscrewing a bottle cap.
From a less scientific perspective, Caravaggio portrays the hands as instruments of deceit. In The Fortune Teller, a slightly coy looking gypsy reads the palm of a handsome young noble, who is at least temporarily besotted by her amorous glances. In The Cardsharps five hands enact the unfolding drama – two belonging to the noble young victim, two belonging to the deceiver and belonging one to his assistant lurking in the background.
It is mainly through the hand that we bestow touch on the people around us, and this touch encompasses all human feeling and emotion. We hit out or shake a fist in anger, salute in friendly recognition, wield a weapon in defence or attack, scratch our head in puzzlement, or point the finger of accusation or betrayal, although in the case of Judas Iscariot, he opted for a kiss. Helkiah Crooke in his Description of the Body of Man, published in 1615 considers the hand in an emotional context. “By our hands we promise, we call, we dismisse, we threaten, we entreate, we abhorre, we fear, yea and by our hands we can aske a question.”
But to return to Leonardo Da Vinci though, he planned to unravel the mystery of the workings of the hand in eight demonstrations. These would literally be working diagrams of the bones, binding tendons and ligaments, muscles, the deep tendons of motion that operate the tips of the fingers, the tendons of the lower joints of the fingers, the nerves, the veins and arteries, and finally the superficial anatomy of the whole hand. Never one to shirk from a seemingly impossible task, Leonardo also aspired to compare the hands of an old man with the hands of a child. This would include depicting all the muscles as threads so that you could see their relationship to each other, and drawing all the bones separated from each other in exploded diagrams. It is not surprising to learn that he never in fact completed this ambitious project.
Just consider the Latin word for hand - manus - and look at some of the English words that are derived from it, for example manual and manipulate. These words remind us that the hand grasps and deftly uses tools to probe for hidden knowledge or make new discoveries. Archaeologists do this with the trowel, biologists do it with the microscope, and in this knowledge-based information age we all do it with the computer keyboard.
Jacob Bronowski, author of The Ascent of Man, reminds us that it took a million years for the human hand to drive the brain and for the brain to feed back and drive the hand to reach its present stage of evolution. It’s still a work in progress and who knows where it will end?
Copyright Berni Dwan 2005, 2015, 2020
