The Explicator; Washington; Spring 1998; Dennis J
Sykes

Volume:
56
Issue:
3
Start Page:
151-153
ISSN:
00144940
Subject Terms:
Literary criticism
Short stories
Blacks
Race relations
Personal Names:
Welty, Eudora

In the notes that accompany his epic poem "The
Waste Land," T. S. Eliot says of the blind prophet
Tiresias, "although a mere spectator and not indeed a
'character', [he] is yet the most important personage in
the poem, uniting all the rest. What Tiresias sees, in
fact, is the substance of the poem" (218). For Eliot,
Tiresias serves as a medium through which characters
can transform themselves, a character who links both
past events and future occurrences. A similar
character exists in Eudora Welty's short story "The
Worn Path." Phoenix Jackson, herself a blind seer of
sorts, reveals through a difficult pilgrimage many of the
themes that Welty attempts to convey. As Tiresias
witnesses the transformation of the merchant into the
Phoenician sailor, so Phoenix Jackson witnesses the
Southern black's transformation from slave to citizen.
In Welty's "The Worn Path," Phoenix Jackson's
thoughts and perceptions, as well as her encounters
with other characters, illustrate the theme of
impending black equality and amalgamation in the
South after the Civil War.

Phoenix's perseverance is soon noticeable, as she
pleads with a higher being to "keep the big wild hogs
out of my path. Don't let none of those come running
in my direction. I got a long way" (142). This woman of
one hundred years, nearly blind, and with a cane,
struggles onward up the "worn path," toward the city
to obtain medicine for her grandson. A parallel exists
between the journey described and the plight of the
Southern blacks after the Civil War. The Thirteenth
Amendment made black people legally free, but their
place in a society in which they were previously
considered three-fifths of a person was certainly in
question. Like Phoenix, they endured an endless
struggle, if not against scurrying hogs, then against
the thorny bush that "never want to let folks pass"
(143).

At times, Welty is even more obvious with her imagery.
As Phoenix climbs up the tiresome hill that the path
traverses, she notes that it "seems like there is chains
on my feet, time I get this far" (143). The unsettling
reference to the bound slaves that Phoenix can recall
from her long life is clear, yet she continues. While
resting on a log, Phoenix has an almost hallucinatory
vision: She envisions a boy offering her a piece of
marble cake, a proposition, Phoenix says "that would
be acceptable" (143). The vision of a slice of black and
white cake appears to be a reference to the idea of
integration in the South. But "when she went to take it
there was just her own hand in the air" (143), an
unattainable dream, a utopian fantasy, and Phoenix's
struggle continues through the barbed wire and dead
corn (144).

The quest for integration seems more hopeful as
Phoenix walks out of the woods and into the brightly lit
town that is her destination. Upon entering the medical
building, Phoenix has an epiphany of sorts, for gazing
at the wall, she notices "the document that had been
stamped with the gold seal and framed in the gold
frame, which matched the dream that was hung up in
her head" (147). Phoenix dreams about the day when
degrees hang on her grandson's bedroom wall, when
blacks can go to college. As she is leaving the doctor's
office, Phoenix, with only two nickels in her pocket, has
promised to buy her grandson "a little windmill they
sells, made out of paper. He going to find it hard to
believe there is such a thing in the world" (149). Welty
has created through Phoenix a modern Don Quixote.
Her grandson's sparring with the windmills will be his
quest for freedom, for equality in this new world that
has been opened up for him.

The characters Phoenix encounters on this pilgrimage
all represent attitudes of whites in the South after the
war. Her first encounter is with a hunter who, after
running off a black dog, remarks, "Well, I scared him
off that time" (146). Welty uses the symbol of the white
hunter scaring off the black dog to show the strength
of Phoenix's dignity: "`Doesn't the gun scare you?' he
said, pointing it at her. `No, Sir, I seen plenty go off
closer by, in my day"' (146). The hunter's attempt to
instill fear in Phoenix, a fear she disposed of years ago
as she came to terms with her plight in society, fails.
The hunter's parting advice for Phoenix comes in the
form of a threat: "But you take my advice and stay
home, and nothing will happen to you" (146). Phoenix
realizes that the importance of the trip far exceeds the
possible harm that can be done to her brittle frame.
The incident with the hunter symbolizes the resiliency
of the black movement toward equality.

In the medical building, the attendant, upon seeing
Phoenix, dismisses her with, "Charity case, I suppose"
(147). When asked by the nurse about her grandson,
Phoenix replies, "We is the only two left in the world.
He suffer and it don't seem to put him back at all. He
got a sweet look. He going to last" (148). The adoration
of her grandson are the final words Phoenix speaks to
another character in the book, a parting premonition
that the struggle is going to last. Much like tl.e incident
with the hunter, Phoenix reiterates here that conflicts
are just stones in the road, obstacles in the path.

[Reference]
WORK CITED

[Reference]
Welty, Eudora. The Collected Stories of Eudora Welty. New York:
Harcourt, 1980.

[Author note]
DENNIS J. SYKES, Quincy College

Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further
reproduction or distribution is prohibited without permission.