Oculus Invertus

a picture book about seeing things differently

Marcy May was born with her right eye in the left socket, and her left eye in the right socket. You couldn’t tell by looking at her. 

[Realist picture of Marcy's eyes]

But Marcy had always seen things differently.

[Cubist, Pointillist, or Impressionist picture]

No Text.

[Cubist, Pointillist, or Impressionist picture, interior of a museum]

Sometimes Marcy’s unusual perspective caused her trouble.  Reading was tricky.

[Cubist Picture of a page of writing]

Marcy’s mother sought help.

“She is dyslexic,” said the neurologist.

“She is schizophrenic,” said the psychiatrist.

“It is astigmatism,” said the ophthalmologist, who should have known better.

“My eyes are switched,” said Marcy.  But she was young, and was not listened to (except by the psychologist, who jotted down a note).

[Cabal of doctors hovering around her]

They put her in thick glasses, taught her to read backwards, and sifted through her dreams. But Marcy still saw things differently.

[More cubist pictures.]

Marcy’s mother found an expert. 

“Indeed.  Occulus Invertus.  The inversion of the eyes.  A very rare condition. I’m so happy to see it,” said the surgeon, too enthusiastically.

 “Can it be fixed?” asked Marcy’s mother.

“Nothing to it,” said the surgeon, “I’ll just pop them out, swap them round, and pop them in again.”

[Mother Passed Out in the Doctor’s office, from Marcy´s perspective]

Marcy protested, “I’m not sure…”

The surgeon reassured her “Now, now, nothing to it.  I’ll just pop them out, swap them round, and pop them in again.”

[On the operating table]

With a long-handled surgical spoon, he scooped up behind, to clear out the ick that holds the eyes in place.  Then he popped them out.  They looked just like fresh-peeled hard-boiled eggs behind, and just like eyes up front.  Then he swapped them around and popped them back into their right places.

[On the operating table]

A few days later, the bandages came off.  As promised, Marcy could see quite clearly. It was a little boring.

[Boring, realist picture]

Marcy’s mother drove her to the museum to celebrate.  “Now that you can see properly, you can properly enjoy it.”

[Boring, realist picture of museum interior, with classical paintings]

And she did, even though the paintings all looked a little musty now. Then something caught Marcy’s eye. 

“That’s it!  That’s what it was like before!” cried Marcy. 

[Realistic picture, but focus on a Picasso seen around a corner]

Weeks went by, and months.  Marcy could read easily now, and her Mother was quite pleased.  But Marcy missed the way the world looked before. She made up her mind one dreary Tuesday morning, and snuck back to the surgeon´s office.

 “I can’t,” protested the surgeon.  “It would be unethical.”

“I can pay,” pleaded Marcy, and hefted a sack of quarters onto the desk between them.

“Well,” said the surgeon, “perhaps we could make an exception.”

[Realistic view of her talking to the same doctor]

No Text.   [View up from a hospital bed, bandage being removed, cubist.]