The Collected Stories of Eudora Welty

by Eudora Welty

All her published stories are gatherd here--those contained in A Curtain of Green, The Wide Net, The Golden Apples and The Bridge of the Innisfallen, together with two stories previously uncollected. Although their events and settings are varied, and they range as far from Miss Welty's native Mississippi as Cork and Naples, they spring from a distinctive Southern sensibility, from the author's response to the place where she has always lived, from long familiarity with the thoughts and feelings of ordinary people around her. Yet the characters in her stories are anything but ordinary; in the commonplace she perceives what is unique. She is sensitively tuned to their voices and their minds, whether she is in the skin of a beautician, a salesman, or a jazz player.

Genres: Short Stories, Fiction, Classics, Southern, Literature, Southern Gothic, American

622 pages, Hardcover

First published January 1, 1980

About the author

Eudora Alice Welty was an award-winning American author who wrote short stories and novels about the American South. Her book The Optimist's Daughter won the Pulitzer Prize in 1973 and she was awarded the Presidential Medal of Freedom, among numerous awards. She was the first living author to have her works published by the Library of America.

Welty was born in Jackson, Mississippi, and lived a significant portion of her life in the city's Belhaven neighborhood, where her home has been preserved. She was educated at the Mississippi State College for Women (now called Mississippi University for Women), the University of Wisconsin-Madison, and Columbia Business School. While at Columbia University, where she was the captain of the women's polo team, Welty was a regular at Romany Marie's café in 1930.

During the 1930s, Welty worked as a photographer for the Works Progress Administration, a job that sent her all over the state of Mississippi photographing people from all economic and social classes. Collections of her photographs are One Time, One Place and Photographs.

Welty's true love was literature, not photography, and she soon devoted her energy to writing fiction. Her first short story, "Death of a Traveling Salesman," appeared in 1936. Her work attracted the attention of Katherine Anne Porter, who became a mentor to her and wrote the foreword to Welty's first collection of short stories, A Curtain of Green, in 1941. The book immediately established Welty as one of American literature's leading lights and featured the legendary and oft-anthologized stories "Why I Live at the P.O.," "Petrified Man," and "A Worn Path." Her novel, The Optimist's Daughter, won the Pulitzer Prize in 1973.

In 1992, Welty was awarded the Rea Award for the Short Story for her lifetime contributions to the American short story, and was also a charter member of the Fellowship of Southern Writers, founded in 1987. In her later life, she lived near Belhaven College in Jackson, Mississippi, where, despite her fame, she was still a common sight among the people of her hometown.
Eudora Welty died of pneumonia in Jackson, Mississippi, at the age of 92, and is buried in Greenwood Cemetery in Jackson.

Excerpted and adopted from Wikipedia.

Reviews

[Teresa · Rating 5 out of 5]

A Curtain of Green certainly doesn't read like the first stories of a new writer. Except for a few in anthologies, (like the great "Why I Live at the P.O." and "Death of a Traveling Salesman," both included here) this is my first time reading her short stories, and I can't believe it took me this long to get to her. (May 10, 2008)

The Wide Net is another wonderful collection. Each story, except one (which is set in a bar in New Orleans), is set in and around the Natchez Trace, including a couple of very interesting ones with historical figures as characters (Aaron Burr in one, Audubon in another, as well as real lesser-knowns) and another (possibly my favorite) that uses Greek mythological elements and a Greek chorus for the contemporary story of the town "Queen," a Hera-like harridan. The final story is heartbreaking. (July 23, 2011)

Dense and allusive, The Golden Apples is a tour de force: a short-story cycle that could be discussed endlessly, with its references to mythology, folklore, the nature of time and gender, escaping time and gender, and much more. Perhaps I wasn't always sure of what Welty was getting at when I was in the midst of a story, but by story's end, I marveled at the brilliance.
(July 6, 2012)

Though maybe not the masterpiece the previous collection is, The Bride of Innisfallen is also the work of a master storyteller. The themes that bind this collection are perhaps subtle, but they are there, and the style of many of the stories is quite modern. Welty's way with dialogue and turns-of-phrase is impeccable. (July 23, 2012)

The two 'uncollected stories' (written in the early 60's) that end this volume say much more than they might seem to say, and are further evidence of Welty's keen eye, now trained on the changing times.

[William2 · Rating 5 out of 5]

All the stories are keepers, but my favorites include:

"Keela, the Outcast Indian Maiden"
"A Curtain of Green"
"Old Mr. Marblehall"
"Why I Live at the P.O."
"First Love"
"A Wide Net"
"Lily Daw and the Three Ladies"
"A Worn Path"
"Music from Spain"

[Katie · Rating 5 out of 5]

Eudora Welty's writing is so magical that at times it seems like she is writing about an alternate universe. Even though most of these stories are set in the same small rural town in the American South. It's like she captures a secret cadence behind the everyday rhythms of life. My favourite story of all was The Bride of the Innisfallen, about a journey to Ireland.

[Karen· · Rating 5 out of 5]

The richness of such talent resists a summing up... Maureen Howard might be a likely candidate for a gold medal in stating the patently obvious for her blurb on the back of this collection. After all there are forty one stories here, written over a time span of around thirty years: naturally they defy summing up, duh. But I'm being uncharitable towards Ms Howard: any quote on the back of a book takes the quotee's words out of context. And in fact I'm twisting what she says, as she never claims that the stories resist summary, but rather that Welty's talent cannot be pigeon-holed. How right. The range of these stories is truly remarkable: not just the diversity of plot, character, voice, but also of genre, which goes from high comedy in a delight such as "Why I live at the P.O." to poignant desolation in "Death of a Traveling Salesman", from whimsical pastiche in "Asphodel" to gritty social realism in the final two stories. She's not a writer that can be summed up, it's true. If there is a unifying element in these magnificent stories, then it might be found in the oblique, indirect style. Some might even be called mystifying. Few will allow the reader to get inside a character, follow their thoughts and feel with and for them. Welty chooses to keep us always slightly at a distance, always on guard, watching our backs. Perspective fades and shimmers, the surface dissolves into liquid depths beneath;often it's not clear if this is fantasy or the 'real' world, workaday or myth, fairy tale or the family next door. Maybe that's how to sum up Ms Welty: she never has the arrogance to believe that she knows. She observes, she imagines, she invents. But the essential mystery remains.

[Dan · Rating 3 out of 5]

The Collected Stories of Eudora Welty won the 1982 National Book Award. There are forty-two short stories in this lengthy 622 page book. I enjoyed the earlier stories in the book but not many of the later ones. Welty’s stories feel quite dated reading some seventy years later. Here are some of the ones I liked.

1. Why I Live at the Post Office. Sister alienates family by making too many assumptions but is able to get the family on her side by telling blatant lies and manipulating others.
2. Old Mr Marblehall. He lives a double life with a son by each wife. The sons even look alike. The author dreams of how one day Marblehall’s secret will be exposed. Maybe one of his young sons will follow their dad to the other house.
3. Flowers for Marjorie. Creepy story. Man kills pregnant wife.
4. The Wide Net. Husband thinks young pregnant wife has drowned herself. He spends all day dragging the river to find her body. She was just hiding the whole time seeking attention.
5. Livvie. Husband is old and sickly and dying. Livvie brings a young man home who is her age. They watch the old man die and begin dancing

3.5 stars. I didn’t love these stories as much as I anticipated since I previously read Welty’s novel called The Optimist’s Daughter and enjoyed it.

[David Carrasco · Rating 5 out of 5]

Cuando alguien me dice que los cuentos se le quedan cortos, me entran ganas de ponerle delante este volumen de casi mil páginas.

Bueno; tampoco somos salvajes: me conformo con que conozca a una escritora capaz de comprimir en unas pocas escenas lo que otros necesitan una novela entera para contar. Aunque quizá lo primero que descubra sea que Welty tiene un sentido del humor bastante menos inocente de lo que su aspecto de respetable dama sureña podría hacer sospechar.

Cuentos completos reúne cuarenta y un relatos publicados a lo largo de tres décadas, desde los años treinta hasta los sesenta. Cuatro colecciones y dos cuentos posteriores que permiten acompañar a Welty mientras ensancha su territorio literario. El Mississippi de su infancia y juventud proporciona buena parte del paisaje, pero sería un error buscar aquí una postal del viejo sur, con sus porches, sus magnolios y sus familias pintorescas. Detrás de esas fachadas hay matrimonios que apenas se entienden, mujeres que han aprendido a callar, vecinos que se vigilan con una cortesía exquisita y personas cuya soledad pasa inadvertida incluso para quienes viven a su lado. Welty conoce las normas de ese mundo y disfruta especialmente mostrando lo que sucede cuando alguien deja de cumplirlas.

En Una cortina de follaje, su primera colección, publicada en 1941, Welty despliega ya una sorprendente variedad de registros y firma algunos de sus mejores cuentos. El humor se desata en Por qué vivo en la oficina de correos ★★★★★. La narradora, conocida simplemente como Hermana, está convencida de que su hermana Stella-Rondo ha regresado al hogar familiar para arruinarle la existencia. Y se dedica a demostrarlo con tal empeño que acaba revelando bastante más sobre sí misma de lo que seguramente pretendía. Es una maravilla de monólogo interesado: cada pequeño incidente adquiere dimensiones catastróficas, cada familiar se convierte en un posible enemigo y el lector termina atrapado entre las ganas de reír y la sospecha de que está escuchando a una mujer incapaz de comprender su propia participación en el desastre. Uno de esos cuentos en los que la voz narrativa hace prácticamente todo el trabajo.

El talento de Welty para dejar que sus personajes se delaten al hablar se vuelve todavía más venenoso en El hombre petrificado ★★★★☆. Dos mujeres conversan en una peluquería sobre embarazos, matrimonios, cotilleos y un curioso personaje exhibido en una feria ambulante. A la señora Fletcher le indigna descubrir que su embarazo ya es asunto de conversación; por lo visto, los secretos solo resultan entretenidos cuando pertenecen a otros. Welty deja que hablen, que se interrumpan y que se juzguen mutuamente mientras sus palabras van mostrando la mezquindad que se esconde bajo tanta familiaridad. El cuento tiene algo de comedia grotesca, con una habilidad extraordinaria para convertir los comentarios aparentemente inofensivos en pequeñas agresiones. Después de escucharlas un rato, casi apetece salir de la peluquería con el pelo mojado.

Tras las disputas familiares y los cotilleos de peluquería, La llave ★★★★☆ nos lleva a una estación de tren, donde esperan Albert y Ellie, un matrimonio sordo. Una llave encontrada por casualidad despierta en Albert unas expectativas que van mucho más allá de su utilidad práctica. Welty observa cómo depositamos nuestras esperanzas en objetos insignificantes y cómo incluso dos personas que comparten una vida pueden atribuir significados diferentes a lo que les sucede. Hay una tristeza muy particular en esa distancia entre lo que uno desea y lo que el otro alcanza a comprender. La estación, con su ir y venir de viajeros, va cobrando una importancia que al principio pasa inadvertida.

Donde Albert y Ellie esperan un tren, Phoenix Jackson se pone en marcha. En Sendero trillado ★★★★½, una anciana negra camina hacia Natchez una mañana de invierno por un sendero que conoce de memoria. La maleza se le engancha en el vestido, un cazador la trata con una condescendencia que llega a resultar amenazadora y el cansancio parece habérsele metido hasta en los huesos; aun así, sigue adelante. Welty la muestra discutiendo con las zarzas, improvisando soluciones y conservando el humor incluso cuando empiezan a fallarle las fuerzas. Cada encuentro revela algo sobre quién puede moverse por el mundo sin dar explicaciones y quién tiene que justificar incluso sus pasos. Phoenix tiene orgullo, astucia y un motivo muy concreto para seguir caminando que Welty se reserva hasta el final.

La soledad adopta una forma distinta en Muerte de un viajante ★★★★★, uno de los primeros relatos que publicó Welty. Bowman, un vendedor de zapatos enfermo y agotado, sufre un accidente en una carretera rural y busca ayuda en una casa aislada. Allí descubre una intimidad doméstica que le resulta tan extraña como fascinante. Lleva tantos años vendiendo zapatos que incluso en aquella situación le salen frases comerciales casi por reflejo, como si hubiera olvidado cualquier otra manera de dirigirse a sus semejantes. Welty convierte ese encuentro en una dolorosa toma de conciencia: Bowman ha recorrido cientos de caminos, ha conocido hoteles y clientes, pero apenas sabe qué hacer ante dos personas que comparten una vida. Su oficio le ha enseñado a tratar con todo el mundo sin llegar a conocer verdaderamente a nadie.

Y si Bowman ha pasado la vida viajando sin saber acercarse a nadie, el pianista de Powerhouse ★★★★½ consigue tener a una sala entera pendiente de sus manos sobre el teclado. Actúa con su banda ante un público blanco que lo admira mientras lo contempla a través de sus propios prejuicios. Inspirado en Fats Waller, el cuento es un prodigio de ritmo: Welty escribe con el pulso de una improvisación jazzística, acelera, cambia de dirección y deja que las frases se persigan unas a otras. Durante el descanso, los músicos se marchan a tomar cerveza a un café del barrio negro. Ahí tenemos al Mississippi de la segregación, capaz de aplaudir a un artista y reservarle después un lugar aparte. Y Powerhouse continúa improvisando incluso lejos del piano, inventando historias para sus compañeros con la misma energía con la que domina el escenario. Estamos todavía en la primera colección de Welty: las tensiones raciales ya estaban presentes en su literatura, aunque con los años cambiaría su manera de abordarlas.

Con La red grande, publicada en 1943, la imaginación de Welty empieza a moverse con mayor libertad entre las costumbres del sur, el folclore y una naturaleza que parece tener voluntad propia. En La red grande ★★★★☆, William Wallace cree que su esposa Hazel se ha ahogado después de una disputa matrimonial y organiza una búsqueda por el río. Lo que comienza como una emergencia se transforma en una expedición colectiva donde los hombres pescan, conversan, divagan y parecen descubrir toda clase de distracciones mientras el marido intenta afrontar lo que puede haber ocurrido. El río acaba imponiendo su ritmo a la narración, entre la amenaza y la exuberancia. Hay humor, pero también una mirada poco complaciente hacia las relaciones entre hombres y mujeres y esa camaradería masculina capaz de convertir la búsqueda de una esposa desaparecida en una excursión.

El agua, los árboles y los ciclos naturales adquieren otra significación en Livvie ★★★★★, uno de los cuentos más hermosos de esta segunda colección. Livvie es una joven negra que vive prácticamente recluida junto a Solomon, su anciano marido, dedicado a prepararse para la muerte mientras ella continúa teniendo toda la vida por delante. La visita de una vendedora de cosméticos, con sus productos y sus promesas de belleza, introduce una perturbación inesperada en aquella existencia inmóvil. Después aparece Cash, un joven de ropas llamativas que parece traer consigo todo lo que Solomon había mantenido fuera de la casa. Welty consigue que unos colores, unos olores y el simple deseo de arreglarse adquieran una fuerza extraordinaria. Entre tantos preparativos para la muerte, Livvie empieza a acordarse de que sigue viva.

En 1949 llega Las manzanas doradas, y aquí Welty se permite una ambición narrativa distinta. Los siete cuentos transcurren alrededor de Morgana, una localidad imaginaria de Mississippi cuyos habitantes aparecen y desaparecen de unas historias a otras. Los personajes secundarios de un relato adquieren protagonismo en otro; las noticias circulan, las familias envejecen y ciertos acontecimientos cambian de significado según quién los recuerde. No siempre resulta fácil seguirles la pista: Welty cambia de perspectiva, salta en el tiempo y deja que las alusiones mitológicas se mezclen con la vida cotidiana. Es inevitable pensar en el Yoknapatawpha de Faulkner, aunque Welty está particularmente interesada en las voces de las mujeres y en cómo una comunidad convierte las vidas ajenas en patrimonio colectivo. Morgana conoce a sus habitantes demasiado bien, o al menos eso cree.

Uno de los mejores ejemplos de esa construcción es El recital de junio ★★★★½. La historia de la profesora de piano Miss Eckhart y de su extraordinaria alumna Virgie Rainey se reconstruye entre recuerdos de infancia y acontecimientos observados desde una casa vecina. Welty superpone lo que ocurrió años atrás con las consecuencias que todavía permanecen, y deja aparecer una relación hecha de admiración, expectativas y sentimientos difíciles de expresar. También hay una mirada despiadada hacia la manera en que una pequeña comunidad puede tolerar a alguien durante años sin llegar a aceptarlo. La música ocupa un lugar central, tanto por lo que significa para los personajes como por la forma en que el cuento recupera motivos del pasado y los modifica.

La trayectoria de Virgie encuentra una prolongación especialmente conmovedora en Los errantes ★★★★★, el relato que cierra Las manzanas doradas. La muerte de Katie Rainey reúne a los habitantes de Morgana y permite contemplar, desde una perspectiva distinta, muchas de las vidas que hemos ido conociendo. Pero es Virgie, la hija de Katie, quien concentra buena parte de la fuerza del cuento. Su independencia, su talento y sus dificultades para encontrar un lugar propio adquieren una dimensión nueva cuando desaparece una presencia que había condicionado su existencia durante años. Welty conoce muy bien esa mezcla de afecto, resentimiento y libertad que puede surgir en las relaciones familiares. Y sabe que un funeral reúne a personas que comparten recuerdos, aunque pocas veces estén de acuerdo sobre lo que significan. Es un cierre magnífico, con la melancolía de quien contempla un mundo que sigue adelante mientras algunas de sus criaturas todavía intentan averiguar hacia dónde ir.

La novia del «Innisfallen», publicada en 1955, abre otros escenarios. Welty viaja más allá de Mississippi, experimenta con personajes desplazados de su entorno habitual y concede mayor espacio a lo extraño, lo mítico y lo imprevisible. Un barco rumbo a Italia, como en Viaje a Nápoles, puede proporcionarle un pequeño universo de relaciones humanas. Pero quizá el relato más perturbador de esta colección sea El fuego ★★★★½, ambientado durante la Guerra de Secesión estadounidense. Dos hermanas pertenecientes a una familia acomodada permanecen en su propiedad mientras el avance de las tropas de la Unión amenaza con destruir cuanto conocen. Welty nos introduce en una casa donde las jerarquías parecen tan antiguas como sus paredes, y donde la presencia de Delilah, una mujer esclavizada, obliga a mirar el derrumbe desde otra posición. Las hermanas se aferran a una casa y a una posición social que consideran suyas; Delilah ha vivido dentro de ese mismo orden sin disfrutar de sus privilegios, y también carga con sus propias pérdidas. El relato contiene una violencia terrible, tanto por los acontecimientos como por las relaciones de poder que los preceden. Su intensidad procede en buena medida de mostrar hasta qué punto la ruina de un mundo puede significar cosas radicalmente distintas para quienes lo habitaban.

Y entonces llegamos a los años sesenta. Después de tanta familia, tanto pueblo, tantas disputas domésticas y tantas formas de soledad, Welty escribe ¿De dónde viene la voz? ★★★★★. En junio de 1963, tras el asesinato en Mississippi del activista por los derechos civiles Medgar Evers, la escritora compuso de una sentada un relato narrado desde la perspectiva de un asesino racista. El resultado es aterrador. La voz habla con la seguridad de quien toma sus prejuicios por hechos indiscutibles, mezcla agravios imaginarios con resentimientos personales y encuentra justificaciones para una violencia que ha terminado convirtiéndose en parte de su identidad. Welty demuestra aquí hasta dónde puede llegar su dominio del monólogo: permite que el personaje hable y que su propia manera de pensar revele la monstruosidad de sus convicciones. Cuesta creer que la mujer capaz de escribir una comedia familiar tan disparatada como Por qué vivo en la oficina de correos sea también la autora de estas páginas. Y, sin embargo, la relación está ahí: en ambos casos, una voz se adueña de la realidad hasta acomodarla por completo a sus deseos. Las consecuencias, naturalmente, pertenecen a órdenes morales incomparablemente distintos.

El otro relato final, Demostración ★★★★½, acompaña a un médico blanco que atiende a una joven negra gravemente herida. Tarda en reconocerla, aunque ella limpia su consulta cinco días a la semana. Welty nos deja ver cuánto puede desconocer de las personas que lo rodean alguien convencido de cumplir con su deber. Después del asesino que habla sin pudor, se fija en una respetabilidad bastante menos estridente, pero también cargada de prejuicios.

Estos dos cuentos, publicados años después de las cuatro colecciones, obligan también a revisar algunas de nuestras impresiones anteriores. Basta volver a Sendero trillado y Powerhouse para comprobar que las diferencias de raza, clase y poder ya estaban presentes en los primeros relatos de Welty. Lo que cambia es la manera de observarlas y contarlas.

Hay que decir que Welty exige cierta disponibilidad del lector. Su prosa puede ser extraordinariamente sensorial, llena de imágenes y asociaciones, y en algunos relatos el simbolismo llega a espesarse hasta hacer necesario volver sobre un párrafo. Con cuarenta y un cuentos, también conviene administrarse el placer: dos o tres por sesión, o alternar el libro con otra lectura, pueden sentarle mejor que empeñarse en recorrerlo a marchas forzadas. Hasta la buena literatura puede empachar. Tampoco todos sus experimentos alcanzan idéntica fortuna. Pero sería difícil encontrar una escritora con semejante variedad de recursos: pasa del monólogo cómico a la tragedia, de la observación doméstica a la fábula, de una conciencia solitaria a todo un pueblo, sin perder ese oído extraordinario para las palabras con las que las personas intentan explicarse y, tantas veces, engañarse.

Quizá por eso me sorprende que el nombre de Welty no aparezca con mayor frecuencia junto a los de Cheever, Munro, Carver, O'Connor o Katherine Anne Porter cuando hablamos de los grandes cuentistas norteamericanos. El dominio de las voces y los cambios de perspectiva bastaría para incluirla en esa lista. Luego pienso en Hermana, Bowman, Livvie o Virgie, que siguen hablando, esperando o recordando mucho después de que hayamos cerrado el libro.

Casi mil páginas, cuarenta y un cuentos y varias décadas de escritura. A lo largo del camino hemos visto a una mujer pelearse con toda su familia, a un vendedor descubrir demasiado tarde ciertas carencias de su vida, a una muchacha esperar su oportunidad, a un pueblo enterrar a una de sus vecinas y a un asesino justificar su odio con una seguridad escalofriante.

Y pensar que todavía hay quien considera que en un cuento apenas da tiempo a que pase nada.

DC

[Meredith Holley · Rating 3 out of 5]

I was introduced to this book by a smooth-talking, cool, British professor, who mentioned it was his favorite . . . collection of short stories? Book? It’s difficult to remember now. That was years ago. And it wasn’t the first time I had heard of the collection. I think in college I even recorded a friend reading Why I live at the P.O. in a funny voice for a theater class. Or maybe just selections from the story. So, anyway, I was on a short-story-reading kick, and after loving Cather’s and Hemingway’s and Katherine Mansfield’s, I thought I would give these a chance.

At first, we really hit it off. The stories in the first collection, A Curtain of Green, are really tight with surprise endings and good dialog. Then, as I got to know Welty better, it became obvious that maybe she was a friend who was fun to party with, but not someone with whom I’d want to talk about anything important. Because, I had to start to ask myself if she wasn’t kind of racist. I generally still liked The Wide Net, especially the title story. That was one of my favorites in the whole book. It wasn’t until The Golden Apples, though, that I realized Welty is boring. And then, by The Bride of the Innisfallen Welty had become just a crazy old bitty, calling to ramble nonsensically about some kids holding hands on a cruise ship. Then, there is a surprise uber-racist ending of a couple of unpublished stories.

The one story in The Golden Apples that is worth reading is Moon Lake. It starts out slow, like a lot of hers do, but it’s worth it for the way it ends. Otherwise, I would skip the last two collections entirely. The first two are still worth reading, though. Well, maybe just the first one and the title story of the second.

It took me about three years to read this collection of short stories, so I feel like I should be able to write something more profound about it. I have been reading this book since I first started my goodreads account, and finishing it is something of a milestone. Rather than feeling celebratory, though, I feel more like I just don’t ever want to think about it again. One reviewer wrote of The Golden Apples, “This book has been an albatross around my neck all freaking summer.” I’d like to echo that sentiment for the entire collection. I’ve been a lot better about it since I started this book reporting business, but usually I’m pretty stubborn about finishing books even if I don’t like them. This is a good example of that. I should have just quit when it started going bad because it did not ever get better. Stupid smooth-talking Brits. Stupid southern women writers.

[Sue · Rating 5 out of 5]

A wonderful, awe-inspiring story collection that spans Welty's career. Reading it with friends, as I've done here, has added to my enjoyment of the stories themselves and to my knowledge of Welty and understanding of the influences behind her writing.

As to what are my favorite? Hmmm. Of course there is "Why I Live at the P.O.." Then there is the whole book "The Golden Apple". I recall scenes from "The Death of a Traveling Salesman". There are too many. And I know I will be dipping into this book in the future to sample these stories again at my leisure and will have more to say about favorites then too.

Thank you to Teresa, Mikki, Karen (and Cynthia at the end) for making this such a great reading experience.

[Tom · Rating 5 out of 5]

Having cut my literary teeth on Flannery O'Connor, I pshawed "Miss Eudora" whenever she entered the conversation regarding short story writers, assuming (without having actually read her, mind you) that she wrote polite little stories of Southern manners that didn't belong on the same shelf with Flannery. I freely admit now that attitude belonged to an ignoramus of embarrassingly shallow depths. It took just one story, "The Petrified Man," to straighten me out. In fact, her entire first collection, A Curtain of Green, is as tough as anything Hemingway produced in his stories, and I dare say, she has more range that Hemingway and O'Connor (who can seem a trifle deterministic and predictable over the course of several stories in comparison). Keela, the Outcast Indian Maiden; The Hitch-Hikers (which makes nice companion with O'Connor's A Good Man is Hard to Find), A Curtain of Green, Clytie, and Powerhouse have a wry toughness and compassion that I've not encountered elsewhere (on the other hand, Why I Live at the PO and A Worn Path, stories that get anthologized ad nauseum, are lesser works, in my opinion).
Over the course of her career, Welty's stories become more lyrical and ambiguous, and while I have favorites from all points of her output, nothing can top one of her final stories, No Place for You, My Love, in probing the mysteries that govern the human heart. It ranks up there with Melville's "Barleby the Scrivener," Hemingway's "Big Two-Hearted River," O'Connor's "A Good Man is Hard to Find," and Baldwin's "Sonny's Blues," as the one of the greatest of American short stories. This entire collection confirms Borges' statement that "Unlike the novel, the short story may be, for all purposes, essential."

[Cheryl · Rating 3 out of 5]

In some of her stories, Welty’s adeptness at getting you into a character’s frame of mind, while also giving you backstory through dialogue, is spellbinding.

Papa-Daddy woke up with this horrible yell and right there without moving an inch he tried to turn Uncle Rondo against me. I heard every word he said. Oh, he told Uncle Rondo I didn’t learn to read till I was eight years old and he didn’t see how in the world I ever got the mail put up at the P.O., much less read it all, and he said if Uncle Rondo could only fathom the lengths he had gone to to get me that job!

Yes, you have met the character, Sister, in Welty’s “Why I Live at the P.O.,” the unappreciated one of the family who is paranoid that everyone is turning someone against her.

In most of her stories, Welty creates imagery using similes and personification—though some stories seem to drown in them (i.e.: “The Whistle”). Her prose is so vivid in its appeal, especially at the beginning of some stories (“The Key” for example), that I found myself meandering in the mystery and satire.

She would not feel anything now except the rain falling. She listened for its scattered soft drops between Jamey’s words, its quiet touching of the spears of the iris leaves, and a clear sound like a bell as it began to fall into a pitcher the cook had set on the doorstep.

My collection has four volumes. Oddly, I mostly enjoyed Welty’s first collection (1941): A Curtain of Green And Other Stories: Short, sweet, sensational lyrical prose. The Wide Net (her 1943 collection) was my least favorite: non-memorable.

[Lowry · Rating 5 out of 5]

The Collected Stories of Eudora Welty contains all the best of her life's work as a writer. Welty was not temperamentally a novelist, though her short novel The Optimist's Daughter is totally worth reading. The short story was the right form for her. This book, besides containing within it The Golden Apples (see my separate review), holds other masterpieces that will repay many re-readings. Her work gets deeper and deeper as you contemplate it. Here are some stories I particularly hope people will try:

"A Piece of News"
"The Hitch-Hikers"
"A Curtain of Green"
"Death of a Traveling Salesman"
"Powerhouse"
"The Wide Net"
"The Winds"
"At the Landing"
"No Place for You, My Love"
"The Burning" (if this and "At the Landing" don't dispel the image of Eudora Welty as the harmless little Southern lady, nothing ever will)
"The Bride of the Innisfallen"
"Ladies in Spring"
"Where Is the Voice Coming From?"
"The Demonstrators"

[Ronald Morton · Rating 4 out of 5]

I have been told, both in approval and in accusation, that I seem to love all my characters. What I do in writing of any character is to try to enter into the mind, heart, and skin of a human being who is not myself. Whether this happens to be a man or a woman, old or young, with skin black or white, the primary challenge lies in making the jump itself. It is the act of a writer’s imagination that I set most high.

-Eudora Welty

This collection covers 25 years (the entirety) of Eudora Welty's short story writing. It is arranged chronologically, sectionally separated into the original collections as they were published.

It is apparent from the start the talent and voice that Welty brought to the short story. She is firmly entrenched in the southern literary tradition, and brings to it a lightness of prose, and a gentleness of regard that closely embraces the characters she is writing. This embrace is provided regardless of worth - there are couples in love and adulterers; there are weddings to be had and separations to follow; there is tenderness and there is murder; there are caresses and there are abuses. That's not to say that all are treated equally, but it is to say that Welty presents each scene in a light that demands restraint, if not understanding, on the part of the reader.

And her skill grows throughout the collection. The early stories are full of life, but short in a way that shows a writer still feeling out her talents, afraid to hold a note too long less the bend of the string give away the strain. As the collection progresses this hesitancy disappears, and stories stretch out into multi-sectioned affairs, and the characters are allowed room to grow and thrive.

All this stated, there was no single story in here that truly blew me away; just a steady growth and presentation of exceptional talent - Welty was undeniably an incredible writer, but I was surprised (having read all of her novels last week), that a writer so known for her short fiction would have presented some of her best prose in the longer form (the actual prose of Delta Wedding is stronger than mostly anything here, in spite of its flaws).

What this collection does, just as reading all of her early novels did, is highlight the triumph of her last work, The Optimists' Daughter, and continue to frame how it combined all of the elements that made Welty such a talent, and why her regard is earned and deserved.

[Shawn Mooney (Shawn Breathes Books) · Rating 2 out of 5]

No one is more surprised than me that I’m bailing just over halfway through this mammoth collection. I absolutely worship Welty’s novel Delta Wedding, but I detested almost all of the stories I read and I did read more than 25. But for a few classic ones early on in the book—for example, Why I Live at the P.O— they left me cold, confused, or mind-numbingly bored. I’m so glad to give up now rather than trudge my way through to the end. I get that many take to her short fiction, but you couldn’t pay me to read another Eudora Welty short story so long as I live.

[Terry · Rating 3 out of 5]

There is a truth that I should recognize about myself. I just don’t enjoy short stories as regular fare. I think every now and again I want one as a condiment, to add a bit of flavor to what I consume. But a steady diet just dulls my senses.

It took me quite awhile to get through Welty’s The Collected Stories. Some were amusing. Others probably had more depth than I perceived. I just didn’t enjoy reading them one after another.

I only read the first series, A Curtain of Green, which might be half of the volume of stories. My favorite was “Why I Live at the P.O.” There were a couple of others that made impressions, but I think I should create a rule for myself to take them just one at a time, and space them out. Otherwise, I am apt to space out!

[RJ - Slayer of Trolls]

Contains the following stories:

A Curtain of Green and Other Stories:
Lily Daw and the Three Ladies -
A Piece of News
The Petrified Man
The Key -
Keela, the Outcast Indian Maiden -
Why I Live at the P.O. -
The Whistle -
The Hitch-Hikers -
A Memory -
Clytie -
Old Mr. Marblehall -
Flowers for Marjorie -
A Curtain of Green -
A Visit of Charity -
Death of a Traveling Salesman -
Powerhouse -
A Worn Path -

The Wide Net And Other Stories:
First Love -
The Wide Net -
A Still Moment -
Asphodel -
The Winds -
The Purple Hat -
Livvie -
At the Landing -

The Golden Apples:
Shower of Gold -
June Recital -
Sir Rabbit -
Moon Lake -
The Whole World Knows -
Music from Spain -
The Wanderers -

The Bride of the Innisfallen and Other Stories:
No Place for You, My Love -
The Burning -
Bride of the Innisfallen -
Ladies in Spring -
Circe -
Kin -
Going to Naples -

Uncollected Stories:
Where Is The Voice Coming From? -
The Demonstrators -

[Mackey · Rating 5 out of 5]

Eudora Welty is the epitome of the Southern Female Writer. She and Flannery O'Connor brought a realism to southern literature that few of their male counterparts ever mastered. Through their writing, readers all over the world captured a glimpse of the poor, the struggling, the different, the proud, the hard-working, the true Southerner that other writers only envisioned in their imaginations. Gone was the verbosity of Faulkner and replaced in its stead the stark reality of what it was to be a "southerner." In her short story,"The Worn Path," a simple tale of an elderly Mississippi woman, Welty encapsulated a wealth of imagery and symbolism that still is the topic of debate for students, writers and philosophers world wide. Once, when I was a young university student, I had the honor of meeting Welty and being awarded a literary prize for my paper on her work, The Worn Path. She was and will remain one of America's finest writers.

[Kirk · Rating 5 out of 5]

Makes for delightful teaching. Students really respond well to the stories, showing a lot of compassion and generosity to characters. In 41 Welty was erroneously tagged as a "grotesque" by Katharine Ann Porter, and that reputation is hard to avoid in the early, famous stories like "Petrified Man" and "Why I Live at the PO." They're funny tour-de-forces, innovative in voice and form. My own preference is for the later stuff; "The Bride of the Innisfallen" is one of those long, seemingly plotless stories (sort of like "The Dead") in which nothing happens until right at the end. Suddenly, you realize what a ride you've been on the entire twenty pages. There are also two previously uncollected stories, including "Where is the Voice Coming From?", a fictionalization of the murder of Medgar Evans. For a writer whose most famous essay is about why writers don't need to crusade, it's a hell of a crusading piece.

[Stephanie · Rating 2 out of 5]

Read the short story, The Petrified Man, for class and it didn't seem so bad. At least, not at first.

I did get to the point where it felt like it could have been a lot shorter than it was. But part of it could have been the narrator I became weary of listening to.

Maybe one day I'll try more of Eudora Welty's stuff, but that day isn't coming anytime soon.

[Lynn Lipinski · Rating 5 out of 5]

TikTok’s a goldmine for Amazon shopping blunder videos. People order stuff without a care, and then, surprise! You just spent a hundred dollars on a doll’s chair when you thought you were buying something for humans to sit on.

Here’s my literary version. I had casually tossed Eudora Welty The Collected Stories onto this year’s Christmas Amazon wishlist, thinking it would be a cozy, curated little sampling of Southern stories. My favorite writer, Ann Patchett, gushes so much about Welty’s talent, I wanted to get a taste beyond what I’d read in anthologies in college.

I didn’t bother to inspect the fine print. So when my wonderful sister gifted me the book, it turned out to be a whopping 622-page literary brick, containing four separate short story collections and two additional stories. This thing could moonlight as a dumbbell!

Never one to back down from a challenge, I decided to read the damn thing from start to finish. No reading it in parts, as I assumed it wouldn’t come back to it. Three weeks later, I turned the final page. Here’s what I thought of my unintentional Eudora Welty short story binge.

Eudora Welty The Collected Stories is one big dose of literary jambalaya, a mix of everything from comedy to tragedy, all seasoned with a heaping helping of Southern spice and lots of time for navel-gazing. It’s one heck of a ride through the Deep South of olden times with side trips to San Francisco, New York, Ancient Greece, and Europe. The stories were written between the 1930s and mid-1960s and contain negative depictions and mistreatment of people or cultures, and use of racist language and phonetic dialogue.

Eudora Welty, much like Ann Patchett, is quite the maestro when it comes to capturing life's little quirks in her writing. Both sprinkle that special writer's fairy dust that sucks you right into their fictional worlds.

However, Eudora's storytelling takes a distinct turn down the time-travel lane. Her narratives are deeply immersed in the raw ambiance of the 1930s-1960s, resembling a well-preserved time capsule that can, at its best, transport you back in time. At its worst, though, it serves as a stark and discomforting reminder of the prevalent racist and sexist attitudes that persisted not too long ago.

Her characters, on the other hand, are nothing short of intense, occasionally veering off into the realm of eccentricity and, dare I say, the derangement zone.

But here's the twist: sometimes, it feels like you're watching sunlight shine through a tree instead of a story unfolding. I had my notepad out, jotting down notes like "not much happens" more times than I care to admit. Those super introspective, dialogue-light stories? They weren't exactly my cup of sweet tea.

But don't get me wrong; there's a lot to appreciate in Welty's writing. In that sea of "not much happening," I managed to find plenty to admire.

To truly appreciate this collection, it's best to delve into each section individually. So, let's dive in and explore the compelling world of Eudora Welty's storytelling.

Let's kick off with the first story, "Lily Daw and the Three Ladies," a promising and lively start in which the dialogue zips faster than a mosquito dodging a swatter. It's about three busybodies trying to ship Lily Daw off to the Ellisville Institute for the Feebleminded of Mississippi (this really existed), but plot twist: the xylophone player Lily met at a tent show the night before makes good on his promise to marry her. It's like the church ladies and Aunt Bea from The Andy Griffith Show got their own episode. A good start.

Next, let's talk about "A Piece of News." Brace yourself for the thrilling action: a young wife twiddles her thumbs at home, waiting for her husband, and leafing through a newspaper. Lo and behold, there's a story about a woman with the exact same name as hers getting shot in a different town. What does she do? Spend her time fantasizing about her own demise, then her husband comes home and she tells him about it. A real adrenaline pumper, right? Okay, moving on.

Read my full review of each collection here: https://lynnlipinski.me/gift-that-kep...

[Patrick McCoy · Rating 5 out of 5]

While I was in New Orleans it occurred to me via Paul Theroux's musing on Southern literature in Deep South that I haven't really explored the work of Eudora Welty. Since most of her stories take place in Mississippi and New Orleans I decided to read The Collected Stories Of Eudora Welty (1982). The book contains the short story collections A Curtain of Green, The Wide Net, The Golden Apples, and The Bride of the Innisfallen, as well as previously uncollected ones. These forty-one stories show the virtuosity in which Welty can inhabit people of all ages, gender, and walks of life. A Curtain of Green is most notable for containing her most anthologized short story, "A Well Worn Path," which I can remember reading in high school and college. I was surprised to see some Southern Gothic in"Petrified Man" and "Keela, the Outcast Indian Maiden." I found that two of her more comic stories were among my favorites: "Lily Dew and the Ladies" and "Why I Live at the P.O." The title story of her collection The Wide Net was the standout story of a small rural community and the distinctive types of personalities that peopled a small Mississippi town. I was also entertained by the crime-noir atmosphere of "The Purple Hat." The first story "First Love" is notable for being historical fiction where a deaf mute witnesses meeting between Aaron Burr and Harman Blennerhassett. The next collection, Golden Apples, has a list of Main Families in Morgana, Mississippi and a note explaining that it is a fictional place. This suggests the influence of William Faulkner, who has created his own imaginary Mississippi as well. Generally speaking, these stories were denser and more allusive than her earlier stories. The stories are interconnected by recurring characters and events. There is a sense of solemnity in the stories and my favorite in this collection was "Moon Lake," which recounts the drowning and saving of a young girl. My favorite collection in this book might be The Bride of Innisfallen. The title story recounts a group of people traveling from London to Fishguard where they will take a boat to Cork. Welty lets the characters reveal themselves in the conversation that take place on the way. In another standout story, "The Burning" is her only story about the Civil War and how two women are told that there house will be burnt down by Sherman's men. This event haunts the two women and brings to the surface a family secret that they unwilling to face. "No Place for You, My Love" is a love story that unfolds slowly and results in the realization that it must be unrequited. "Going to Naples" is another charming traveling piece that gives Welty an opportunity to gather several different characters together for an ocean long voyage from New York to Italy. There are there are two uncollected stories ("Where Is the Voice Coming From?" and "The Demonstrators") that were written in the 60s and confront the changes that were coming to the South as the Civil Rights movement that was wrecking havoc all over. This collection felt like a chore at times, but it clearly shows that Welty is a masterful short story writer and worthy to be in the canon of great American authors.

[Rhonda · Rating 4 out of 5]

Eudora Welty found her genre in the short story, withut a doubt. It was nice to read stories with continuity again, something with which modern authors seem unfamiliar or perhaps they have discarded the practice in the dubious name of art.
Her descriptions are sometimes sparce but always evocative. She brings in the reader as one would a close friend, speaking about things we have in common. Before long, you are smiling and nodding, remembering the time you never spent down by the old tire swing in that big persimmon tree. You can see the fields worked by negroes and whites, a slow cadence in the hot sun, hear the cicadas in the cool of the evenings as you sip cool mint tea and sit on the front porch. the children collected some fireflies and even little Annabelle has a jar with some in them, thanks to her brother jorry's generosity. Tthe travelling salesman came by just last week and you should have the new kitchen things any time now. Everyone is anxious to see them.
Of course everything is not sweetness and light in these stories and Welty masterfully doesn't look for causes as much as she shows how people function. We laugh or shrink in horror sometimes as the parts oflife we want to know the least emerge from the characters, and seemingly, in ourselves. People run around doing funny things and ultimately, well most all you can do is tell the story in the porch tonight and listen to mother cluck her tongue and watch for father's sly grin.
In many ways. it's the kind of life you never knew, but somehow cannot leave...at least not until we sneak off and go swimming later tonight in the creek!

[G. Munckel · Rating 3 out of 5]

Desde hace un tiempo tenía ganas de leer a Eudora Welty. Veía su nombre junto al de Flannery O’Connor, Carson McCullers y Katherine Anne Porter, así que me daba curiosidad y, por lo mismo, mis expectativas eran altas. Pero creo que Welty no es para mí, o al menos no ahora.

No es que sea mala (que no lo es), pero me costó mucho leerla, me costó conectar con sus personajes. Su prosa, aunque puede ser bella, es muy lenta y carente de énfasis. Daba lo mismo si describía un paisaje o un accidente. Me perdía con facilidad, me costaba prestarle atención. Que sus historias fueran tan lentas y sutiles (algo que en general no me molesta, o incluso me gusta) no ayudaba. Y tampoco que sus cuentos fueran tan largos.

En sus mejores momentos, me daba la sensación de estar frente a una pintura enorme. Pero otras veces me dejaba aletargado, como resbalando en un sueño borroso.

En todo caso, de los cuatro libros que integran este volumen, me quedo con Las manzanas doradas, en el que sigue a los habitantes de Morgana, Mississippi, a lo largo de sus vidas, con personajes que entran y salen de sus cuentos, lo que permite conocerlos a fondo y verlos evolucionar. Y también porque contiene “La lluvia de oro”, uno de los pocos cuentos en que hace algo diferente en cuanto a su tipo de narrador.

Creo que Welty escribe bien y tiene mucho que ofrecer, pero quizás sus Cuentos completos, de casi mil páginas, no sean el mejor primer acercamiento. Quizás sea mejor leerla más dosificada. De todos modos, me quedo con O’Connor y McCullers.

[Thing Two · Rating 2 out of 5]

I really, really, really wanted to like these stories, but it was like watching paint dry for me trying to get through these. For the one or two gems in the story - Petrified Man, Why I Live at the P.O., and Livvie were great! - there were twice as many that I read with eyes propped open, trying not to fall asleep.

Maybe when I'm older, I'll appreciate these more? Oh, wait. I am old, now.

[Sara Jane Blackman · Rating 3 out of 5]

Maybe I am not smart/motivated enough to find the point in these stories, but I felt like I was just getting to the climax when.

Yeah, exactly like that last sentence. There were certainly some interesting, realistic characters and dialogue, but it was like listening in on other people's conversations at the salon and having your haircut finished before you get to the good part. Sigh.

[Kasa Cotugno · Rating 5 out of 5]

A rich buffet of southern cooking, almost too rich to be read one after another. She's the standard and hard to top.

[Shawn · Rating 3 out of 5]

The mighty reading list (entry - assorted stories to be read - non-genre - Letter "W" ) pointed me here with a handful of Welty stories noted. With one notable exception (see the end of this review) I don't believe I've ever read any Welty before, although I do have a dim memory of hearing a story by her read in audio... "Why I Live At The P.O.", maybe?

This is the kind of fine, human-scale writing that reminds you why Lit writing is important as an approach - in this particular case moments in time captured in prose, a sensibility of a place and era, a subtle ear for local dialect and character, all painstakingly laid down in little cut-gem short fictions.

I'll start with an oddity - a piece that does not actually appear here: "Acrobats In The Park" was possibly Welty's first piece of fiction, published much later in life and, thanks to Google Books, capable of being read online before random chance throws in a "missing page". It depicts a family of traveling acrobats resting in a park, mulling over their familial inter-relationships, an unplanned pregnancy and a failed stunt that night before that broke an arm. It's interesting but a little unsure of itself.

"Keela, The Outcast Indian Maiden" has a nervous young man relating to a tavern owner his tale of, years before, carnival barkering for a geek show featuring a savage outcast Indian Maiden who would eat live chickens and frighten the rubes for a dime - until the day the young man observed the truth of the situation and saw his act liberated from virtual slavery by a stranger. Although unaware of the truth, the young man has finally come to present his apologies and discover what has happened to his charge. Nicely done, this story contains realistic language and attitudes of Mississippi in the 1930s so, those of you who find such things impossible to deal with are forewarned. An oddly touching story with a mildly uplifting end.

"Lily Daw And The Three Ladies" concerns a local young woman, known as a simpleton, who has been taken as kind of the ward of small town. Her caretakers (the titular 3 ladies) have just been informed by mail of their success in getting her placed at the prestigious "Ellisville Institute For The Feeble-Minded of Mississippi", and attempts to tell her the news but instead find that she has told other townsfolk that she is engaged to be married. Can they get her on the train in time? Has Lily sinned with the xylophonist from the traveling tent revival show? This is a delightful little misadventure of a story.

"Petrified Man" is told mostly through gossipy dialogue between a customer at and the owner of a hair salon and concerns a surprise pregnancy, another freak show (this time starring pygmys and the so-called "Petrified Man") and the accidental discovery of a wanted criminal; all occurring during two trips to the salon. Again, lighthearted and charming, with closely observed characters and dialogue.

"Death of a Traveling Salesman" starts off strongly as a salesman, just recently recovered from an illness, finds himself lost and feverish driving some back-roads (really excellent writing here). From there, as he seeks help from a rural couple, it turns into a powerful rumination on life, loneliness, love, humanity and assumptions filled with wondrous little details of humor (a donkey looks in a window - that's all I can say) and stirring imagery (fire is fetched from a neighboring farm, the torch blazing in the night-time darkness as it is run back over the hilltop to the farmstead).

"The Wide Net" seems to start as another relationship tale - a new husband fears his pregnant wife has drowned herself (as she'd threatened in a note) because he stayed out all night - but the piece blooms from a closely observed slice of real life as it is cast into fiction and the husband leads a group of townsfolk down to the Pearl River to drag it for the body (with "the wide net", natch). Although all the characters seem like real people (and, yes again, there are some honest racial politics of the time preserved in the language), an impressive dream-like quality accrues to their actions as they gather, move through the October dawn down to the bank of the river and spend the day dragging the depths, eating fish, dodging alligators and sheltering from a heavy thunderstorm. The dreamy, magical quality of the piece, for a moment, even slides into the near-mythic with a quick appearance from the "King Of The Snakes", whom the husband faces down. At first it may seem that the presumably dead wife has become the least important part of the story, as instead we come to realize how integral the river is in the lives of the people, but, by the end, she proves most important of all. A really excellent story and a great piece of Southern writing.

Also in this collection, but previously read by me in The Oxford Book of Gothic Tales, is "Clytie", a fine slice of Southern Gothic featuring another simple-minded young lady and the travails of her previously-respected (but now fallen into disrepute and decadence) "fine family." Good stuff.

and a few more...

"The Purple Hat"- Three men in a New Orleans bar during a thunderstorm (a bartender and two drinkers). One of the drinkers begins to floridly tell of a woman who visits his place of employment (The Palace of Pleasure - a gambling establishment) every day at a certain time for decades, always met by a young man. The storyteller (who works as armed security from the dome overlooking the action) swears the woman in the purple hat must be a ghost, as she never ages, and he has seen her murder twice under his watchful gaze... Very atmospheric. Would make a good short film.

"Powerhouse" has Welty capture the joy and energy of a Fats Waller (here, renamed "Powerhouse") concert played for a white audience, and the life of black folks, even respected travelling musicians, in the Deep South of the time, as she follows the titular character during his intermission to a small cafe in "Negrotown". Really strong stuff.

"Flowers For Marjorie" - Howard, down on his luck and without a job, verbally takes out his frustration on his pregnant wife. But Henry is distraught and has visions - did he really take that rash action before leaving their room and wandering the town, wracked by misery and drunkenness, and odd luck? This is a powerful fever dream of a narrative, near noir in its' darkness.

"A Piece Of News" has a barely educated backwoods girl find a newspaper with a story about her in it. A story that her husband shit her in the leg. But he didn't... Odd little character piece, I guess.

"A Curtain Of Green" - Mrs. Larkin tends her fertile garden faithfully since the death of her husband in an accident, and it runs riotously unplanned, becoming a kind of jungle. And one day, just like all the others, the rain comes... A moving, if familiar, story.

[Larry Bassett · Rating 3 out of 5]

I had actually effectively read this book in the individual books of which it is comprised 10 years ago and given the individual books 2 and three stars. This time I listen to the audible version of the book which was created in 2010 while following along with the kindle edition. I would not recommend that it is probably best to experienced this book from the beginning to the end in the approximately 32 hour audible version. One of the disabilities of the audible version is the difficulty in selective reading, finding a place and reading an individual story that you might desire to experience. So I did in this case actually plow through the entire book.

After you listen to this much of one author in a concentrated period of time it seems like you would have a whole lot to say. Eudora is not an author who gives you a lot of action in her stories for the most part. This is not absolutely true but she is definitely an author who can make a short time span into multiple pages. She is amazing in describing locations and her character studies are legend. Most of her stories are in the United States south and specifically in Mississippi which is her home. Most are probably in the 30s and 40s.

This book of collected stories is short stories and novelettes. I very much preferred her short stories and would probably give those four stars as Stand alone literature.

—————

The Collected Stories of Eudora Welty

Eudora Alice Welty (April 13, 1909 – July 23, 2001) was an American author of short stories and novels about the American South. Her book, The Optimist's Daughter, won the Pulitzer Prize in 1973. Welty was awarded the Presidential Medal of Freedom, among numerous awards. She was the first living author to have her works published by the Library of America. Her house in Jackson, Mississippi, is a National Historic Landmark and open to the public as a museum.
Source: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eudora_W...

The Collected Stories of Eudora Welty is comprised of the books: A Curtain of Green and Other Stories, The Wide Net and Other Stories, The Golden Apples and The Bride of Innisfallen and Other Stories .

The URL of my GR review of A Curtain of Green and Other Stories : http://www.goodreads.com/review/show/...

URL of my GR review of The Wide Net and Other Stories: http://www.goodreads.com/review/show/...

Eudora Welty began writing in the 1930s. I read that Eudora Welty's central themes include the oppression of blacks and women, and the stupefying religiosity of the south. She portrays life in rural Mississippi. She shows the heart and the beauty but also the dysfunction and even violence lurking just below the surface of seemingly normal families and towns.

I need an annotated version of Eudora Welty to understand all her references. The more you bring to your reading, the more you will take away. Welty writes her stories chock full of meaning but you can also just try to enjoy the words, the cadence, the moods established. Or you can rely on Google to help you see behind the words.

[Eric · Rating 3 out of 5]

I was sometimes struggling with most of these 41 stories. Finding Welty’s writing too lyrical and enigmatic for my tastes, I rarely felt I was grasping everything she was saying, although I admit the few instances I’d give a story an immediate reread my comprehension—and appreciation—shot up. Often I felt I was missing allusions to classic literature and mythology.

I suppose my difficulties heightened my sensitivity to her many, many similes. For the most part these are insightful and still ring fresh, other times required patience: I’d have to read something like “…the façade of a steep street like a great gray accordion spread over a knee seemed about to stutter into the air” three times before I could move on.

Welty hasn’t contempt for her characters, but few of them wouldn’t be angry or ashamed with the way she portrays them.

While I recognize the worth and merit in her writing, I must be in the minority when it comes to finding Welty’s work occasionally inscrutable; this collection was a big hit with the reading public forty years ago. Then again I can’t imagine an anthology like this being a best-seller today.

[Bettie · Rating 4 out of 5]

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Barbara Barnes reads Eudora Welty's Southern Gothic tale about unrequited love and loneliness

[Mark Spano · Rating 5 out of 5]

What can I say of Miss Welty that has not already been said? Just read the work. It will make you more a human.