"Phoenix Jackson: Mind Over
Matter" by Mary Anderson latinaldy@aol.com Novelist Eudora Welty is often
studied and adored by many
readers; her much deserved recognition
comes from her brilliant, deeply compassionate, and lively stories and novels
(Ford 36). Like many of her
stories, Eudora Welty's "A Worn
Path" is set in Mississippi. In "A Worn Path," Welty focuses on
an old woman's journey to Natchez and on the
many obstacles that she encounters along
the way. Phoenix is going to town to get medication for her beloved grandson.
But he trip is difficult
because nature and her handicaps are
making it hard for her to reach her destination. Nevertheless, the old woman
boldly continues along the
equally old path, struggling every step
of the way. Even though Phoenix faces a number of obstacles, she reaches her
destination and triumphs over
her physical handicaps and over nature's
barriers by relying on her inner strengths. Although Phoenix is nearly blind,
she does not let her failing
eyesight keep her from reaching her
destination; she relies on her feet to take her where she needs to go.
"Old Phoenix would have been lost had
she not distrusted her eyesight and
depended on her feet to know where to take her (162)." The ragged old
woman inches her feet forward with
the aid of a makeshift cane, dragging
her untied shoelaces along the icy road. Phoenix's feet carry her to the top of
the hill and then carefully guide
her down the hill. But her eyes fail her
as she nears the bottom of the hill and her dress gets snagged in a thorn bush.
"Old eyes thought you was a
pretty little green bush (159)."
She carefully frees herself and continues along the path. When Phoenix nears a
fallen tree that lays over the creek,
she closes her eyes and lets her feet
guide her across it. Her feet take her across the fields and lead her out of
the swamp and through the maze.
As she makes her way through the corn
field, she stumbles across a tall, dark figure. "Ghost," she said
sharply, "who be you the ghost of? For I
have heard of nary death close by
(160)." Her eyesight tricks her into believing that it is a ghost, or
perhaps, the Grim Reaper that has come to
take her away. When Phoenix gets no
response from the "ghost," she bravely touches the figure and
realizes that it is only a scarecrow. The
relieved woman kicks up her dependable
feet and dances with him. Phoenix acknowledges that it is nature's job to stall
her. However, she makes
it clear that she has no time for the
barriers that are being thrown across her path. She knows that her life is
limited and she has no time for
obstructions. When she finds herself
snagged on a thorn bush, she talks to it as she patiently frees herself.
"Thorns, you doing your appointed work
Never want to let folks pass-no sir
(159)." As Phoenix wobbles along, she comes across a sitting buzzard and
in three simple words she lets him
know that he will not dine upon her.
"Who you watching (160)?" She slowly sways past him and continues her
journey, while nature carefully plans
the next obstacle. Sure enough, as
Phoenix stands and ponders, a big black dog creeps up behind her. "Old
woman," she said to herself, "that
black dog come up out of the weeds to
stall you off (161)." She accepts the fact that the black dog is merely
following nature's orders. Phoenix's
old body is not as quick as her wit.
When Phoenix is startled by the huge mutt, her mind reacts much faster than her
body, causing her to drop into
a weed-cushioned trench. The old woman
is discovered by a young hunter who quickly snatches her out of the ditch. As
they converse, Phoenix
catches a glimpse of a shiny nickel that
drops out of the hunter's pouch. Her mind reacts; her face lights up and she
claps her hands. "Look at that
dog! She laughed as if in admiration. He
ain't scared of nobody. He a big black dog (161)." Knowing that her old
body needs plenty of time to
grab the nickel, she uses her wit to
shift the hunter's attention toward the "fearless" dog. As the hunter
sets off to prove his own fearlessness,
Phoenix goes for the coin. "She was
slowly bending forward by that time (162)." She gradually bows and places
the coin in her apron. As Jackson
slowly lifts her body, she notices a
bird flying above her. "Her lips moved. God watching me the whole time. I
come to stealing (162)." She realizes
that God is watching her sin. The
culpable woman boldly faces the man, ready to admit her guilt. After a few
moments, Phoenix concludes that the
hunter is clueless of her thievery so
the witty woman subtly confesses to the man: "I seen plenty go off closer
by, in my day, and for less than what I
done," (162)." Phoenix hobbles
along, happy about the shiny nickel in her pocket, yet unsure of why she needs
or wants it. Although Phoenix's
deteriorating memory keeps her from
knowing why she is making the journey, her determination surpasses her
uncertainty. The strong-willed
woman has overcome every obstacle that
nature has put across her path. "Keep out from under these feet, little
bob-whites....Keep the big wild
hogs out of my path. Don't let none of
those come running my direction. I got a long way (159)." She bravely
warns the animals to keep out of her
way. When the hunter tells her to go
home, she firmly states that she is going to town, not home. "I bound to
go to town, mister," said Phoenix.
"The time come around (161)."
The hunter mistakenly concludes that the old woman is going to town to see
Santa. Phoenix does not know why
she is going to town either, but that
does not keep her from getting there. Even though the trail is treacherous for
someone her age, she is
determined to get where she has to go.
Phoenix's purpose is to get medication for her grandson who swallowed lye a few
years earlier. "Old
Phoenix Jackson makes her journey on
"The Worn Path" to fetch the "soothing medicine" for her
little grandson (DLB 526). When Phoenix
reaches her destination, she informs the
attendant of her presence but forgets why she is there. "With her hands on
her knees, the old woman
waited, silent, erect and motionless,
just as if she were in armor (163)." After a few minutes, the nurse
reminds Phoenix of her purpose and her
face lights up. "I remembers so
plain now. I not going to forget him again, no, the whole enduring time
(164)." Phoenix apologizes for being
forgetful and vows to never forget her
grandson again. The nurse hands Phoenix the medicine and she strains her eyes
in an attempt to see the
label. The attendant offers Phoenix a
few pennies. "It's Christmas time, Grandma, said the attendant. Could I
give you a few pennies out of my
purse (164)?" But the witty old
woman cons the nurse out of a nickel instead. Phoenix taps her makeshift cane
and readies to leave. She has
already decided on how she is going to
spend her "newly found" treasure. "I going to the store and buy
my child a little windmill they sells, made
out of paper. He going to find it hard
to believe there such a thing in the world (164)." Knowing that it is
Christmas, the loving grandmother is going
to buy a gift for her grandson.
"Phoenix's act of love and compassion is primary to the story: the
deep-grained habit of love (CLC 419)." Indeed,
Phoenix's love for her only living
relative is her greatest strength of all. Although the ragged old woman suffers
from many handicaps, she starts her
journey mentally prepared for the
obstacles awaiting her. Phoenix summons her inner strengths and prevails over
every barrier. She relies on her
trustworthy feet to make up for her
impaired vision. Her wit makes up for her frail body. Her determination makes
up for her aged memory. But
most of all, her love for her grandson
her keeps her going. Clearly, the frail, forgetful, stubborn and loving old
woman can overcome anything.
Works Cited Ford, Richard.
"Bonhomie For A Southern Belletrist." New Yorker 19 Feb. 1996: 36.
Phillips, Robert L. Jr. Contemporary Literary
Criticism: Eudora Welty. vol. 33. ed.
Daniel G Marowski. Detroit: Gale Research Company, 1985. 419. Vande Kieft,
Ruth. Dictionary of Literary
Biography: Eudora Welty. vol. 2. ed.
Jeffrey Helterman. Michigan: Gale Research, 1978. 524-526. Welty, Eudora.
"A Worn Path." Literature for
Composition. 4th ed. Ed. Sylvan Barnet
et al. New York: HarperCollins, 1996. 158-164.
Word Count: 1473
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