Eleanor: And this would involve sticking a needle into my eye?
Dr.: Yes
E: And how long have you been doing this procedure?
Dr: A little over a year.
E: Not long then.
Dr.: No. Not very long
E: And is there not some danger of damaging my eye in the process?
Dr. Yes there is, but, I have done hundreds of these in the last year.
E: Young man?
Dr.: Yes maam.
E: You are very earnest, obviously very smart, and no doubt confident. I’m sure
your hands are quite steady, your fingers dextrous. You are, no doubt, talented. You
are understandably excited at the prospect of solving this little mystery in my eye,
and it is something of a mystery, isn’t it?
Dr: Well we don’t know exactly why the blood is there but…
E: It is something of a mystery?
Dr: Yes, something of a mystery.
E: And I am also a bit of a mystery to you.
Dr. Well, yes, but…
E: Eyes are eyes?
Dr: That sounds cruder than I am comfortable with.
E: I’m glad to hear that. You’re a very nice young man.
Dr: And you madame, are…elegant
E: An elegant old bird, with an elevated sense of dignity. Or shall we say
exaggerated pride? So. Doctor. How should we proceed, knowing now what we
know?
Dr: I’d like to do that injection.
E: I’m ready now.
Eleanor walks downstage as light fades on the Doctor
E: I was but a girl when I saw my first eclipse of the sun. I had been told , it had
been explained to me that one ought not to look at it directly, but through a sort of
camera obscura. Later I saw the moon eclipsed. It was a night of the infinite sort, a
night when eternity is apparent, when the haze of concerns, speculation and
rationalization, is burned off by a spectacular event and one stands as alone and
complete as the universe, in one’s life and of it, both a young woman standing in a
clearing and nothing of the sort. Our eyes do not see; our mind is not ours, and
there is only one soul, undivided by happiness, or melancholy, or fear.
This morning I dressed well for my examination. I put on my best suit, an ensemble.
I fixed a broach to my the jacket. I saw to my makeup. This, for an eye exam.
If someone is going to be peering into my eyes, into the vitreous chaos of my eyes,
let them first pass through an ordered landscape, a tended garden. Let them
remember this well appointed house as they sift through the smoldering embers of
the fireplace. As if to say to these young doctors: ‘Wipe your feet, young man,
before you enter here. And notice the art and photographs before you direct your
gaze to the ashes of the dying fire to tell me what has burned and what can be saved.