Eudora Welty (1909 - 2001) had a remarkable life that spanned almost the entire 20th century. She passed away at the age of 92.

Her writing career was filled with numerous achievements, with her masterpiece, The Optimist's Daughter, standing out. In 1973, when she was 64, this novel won the Pulitzer Prize for fiction.

However, many readers unfortunately overlook Welty or dismiss her work. This is often because her writing is pigeonholed into the genre of Southern Literature, which limits her wider exposure. But in reality, life is diverse and people are complex. Welty had an innate talent for bringing the intricacies and subtleties of everyday life to her characters. This ability is most明显 in The Optimist's Daughter. In this relatively short novel, she skillfully and completely compresses the lives of four people onto the pages. As a result, readers are able to truly get to know and understand these characters.

Welty's work is a testament to her literary genius and her ability to capture the essence of human experience.

I expected more simply because this novel is on so many lists.

It is a story that delves deep into the themes of grief, memory, family, and class distinction, all set in the beautiful and complex South.

The South, with its rich history and unique culture, provides the perfect backdrop for this poignant tale.

The characters are vividly drawn, each with their own flaws and virtues, their own hopes and dreams.

As the story unfolds, we see how grief can tear a family apart, how memories can haunt us, and how class distinction can create barriers that are difficult to overcome.

Despite its heavy themes, the novel also has moments of beauty and hope, as the characters learn to heal and move forward.

Overall, it is a thought-provoking and engaging read that will stay with you long after you have turned the last page.

A nice, well-written Southern slice of life story. It vividly描绘s the unique charm and characteristics of the South. The details are rich and the characters are vividly portrayed.

However, I’m kind of surprised it won the Pulitzer in 1973. The Pulitzer Prize is highly prestigious, and one might expect a more groundbreaking or revolutionary work to receive such an honor.

Perhaps the judges saw something special in this story that others might have overlooked. Maybe it was the way it captured the essence of the South or the emotional depth of the characters.

Nonetheless, it’s an interesting piece that has clearly made an impact. It serves as a reminder that sometimes, the most unexpected works can achieve great acclaim.

Overall, while I may be surprised by its Pulitzer win, I can still appreciate the quality and craftsmanship that went into this Southern slice of life story.

Did I miss something? This book consists of 180 pages, and I managed to struggle through 74 pages but finally gave up! According to the back cover, The New York Times Book Review claimed that it was "The Best book Eudora Welty has ever written". If this is indeed her best work, I can only imagine how bad her worst one would be. Can someone please enlighten me? I really don't understand what makes this book so highly regarded. Maybe there are some hidden gems or profound meanings that I failed to discover. I feel like I'm missing out on something important. I hope someone can explain to me why this book is considered so great.

Eudora Welty is widely regarded as one of the preeminent American writers of the 20th century. Her life encompassed a significant portion of that century, during which she penned a profusion of stories and novels. Her outstanding work, which epitomized the southern genre of writing, was lauded with numerous awards throughout her lifetime. However, none of her novels received as much acclaim as The Optimist's Daughter, which won the Pulitzer Prize in 1973 when Welty was 64 years old.

This novel is a crowning achievement of her writing career, offering a profound exploration of both southern customs and an in-depth examination of people and their relationships. Laurel McKelvy Hand returns to the south from Chicago upon learning that her father, Judge Clinton McKelvy, has suffered a scratched eye and requires surgery. As the only child of the widower judge, Laurel feels a sense of duty to be by his side during this time of need.

Yet, the situation proves to be more complex than a simple surgery, and Judge McKelvy's new wife, Fay, views the predicament differently from Laurel. Tragically, Judge McKelvy succumbs to the surgery, and tensions begin to simmer between the two women over how to honor his memory. Welty skillfully moves the story from a New Orleans hospital to the small town of Mount Scalus, Mississippi. Having lived in Jackson her entire life, Welty's vivid descriptions make it seem as if she is writing about her own town.

Even though Laurel has lived away in the north, the entire town knows her and shares her deepest secrets. While she is still mourning the loss of her mother and husband, her friends and neighbors rally around her to support her in mourning her father, a highly respected figure in Mount Scalus. Meanwhile, Fay, who is younger than Laurel, is a mess. An outsider seeking all the attention for herself and receiving no sympathy from the people of Mount Scalus, Fay is the perfect antagonist created by Welty.

As a reader, I couldn't help but groan as she constantly lamented about how miserable she was, wondering if she had only married Judge McKelvy, a man twice her age, for his money. Despite the town's prayers for Fay to leave, Welty has crafted a character who represents the inevitability of life moving on and changing the traditional way of life in a small town. This is the first of Welty's novels that I have read, and her simple sentences immediately drew me in, as if I were listening to a story being told on a porch on a lazy afternoon.

With a large cast of characters and a straightforward plot, The Optimist's Daughter, although only 180 pages long, was an easy read for me, despite the underlying tension throughout the novel. I was eager to discover the outcome of the conflict between the two women, rooting for Laurel to emerge victorious and hoping that Fay would leave Mount Scalus for good. Having read my fair share of Pulitzer-winning novels, The Optimist's Daughter holds its own, yet it doesn't quite rank as highly as some of the others I have read.

Nevertheless, it is a testament to Welty's illustrious career and offers a unique insight into life and relationships in a southern small town. While not the best of the award winners, Welty's novel provides a fascinating glimpse into a slice of Americana that I found to be an interesting read, deserving of a rating of 3.75 stars.

Well, THAT isn't a happy book. WOW.

This is an excellently written book. Every emotion you experience is precisely what the author intends for you to feel, and those emotions are far from warm, fuzzy, and happy. I found myself spending a significant portion of this book feeling sad, then angry, then simply disgusted, and finally sad again. The main character, Lauren, has to deal with so much within the pages of this one book. It's an overwhelming amount, yet it is so strikingly similar to real life that before you even realize it, you have read the entire book.

"But the guilt of outliving those you love is justly to be borne, she thought. Outliving is something we do to them. The fantasies of dying could be no stranger than the fantasies of living. Surviving is perhaps the strangest fantasy of them all." This profound thought by the character really makes you stop and reflect on the complex emotions and experiences that life throws our way. It adds an extra layer of depth to the already engaging story.

Overall, this book is a powerful and thought-provoking read that will leave you with a lot to think about long after you've turned the last page.

The Saddest Book I’ve Ever Read

The Optimist’s Daughter is truly a heart-wrenching tale. Laurel returns to Mississippi to be with her convalescing father, only to have him pass away. At the age of seventy, he had married a much younger woman, Fay, from Texas. Laurel’s bridesmaids, the local spinsters, manage to handle the funeral arrangements. Eventually, Fay and Laurel have a confrontation.

This book delves deep into the lives we lead, the choices we make, and the consequences that follow. In death, we are given a final, clear perspective on how our parents lived and what kind of people they were. The following passages from the last two paragraphs of the book are particularly poignant.

“Memory lived not in initial possession, but in the freed hands, pardoned and freed, and in the heart that can empty but fill again, in the patterns restored by dreams.”

And as Laurel passes an elementary school,

“The last thing Laurel saw, before they whirled into speed, was the twinkling of their hands, the many small and unknown hands, wishing her good bye.”

It is precisely because of such powerful and moving stories that I am drawn to reading fiction. It allows us to explore the human experience, to feel a range of emotions, and to gain a deeper understanding of ourselves and others.

This novel delves into the profound feelings that emerge from the act of remembering the past. It vividly describes the intense tension that is generated between the joyous pleasure of happy memories and the painful sting of loss that accompanies the passage of time.

The story reaches its conclusion with the glimmer of hope and the promise of freedom that comes from relinquishing lingering keepsakes, wholeheartedly accepting the present reality, and bravely moving forward into the future.

The Optimist's Daughter narrates the tale of a widow named Laurel. Currently residing in Chicago, she makes a journey back to Mississippi when her father falls ill. There, she witnesses his final moments and the subsequent funeral. Her father had remarried after her mother's passing, and the process of making arrangements for the funeral and reconnecting with the people of her hometown is greatly complicated by her stepmother's abrasive nature. Adding to the mix are her stepmother's family members from Texas who have also journeyed to Mississippi for the funeral.

Laurel rediscovers old acquaintances from her youth, including the bridesmaids from her own wedding. Tragically, her husband died in the war shortly after their marriage, and now Laurel finds herself as the sole remaining member of her immediate family. She is truly alone. Her father's house and all its contents will be inherited by her stepmother, leading Laurel to deeply ponder what, if anything, from her past can or should be salvaged.

From this point, she embarks on an incredibly personal and introspective thought journey. She delves deep into her past and her family history in a desperate attempt to make sense of her future. In the end, she comes to the realization that her memories are enough to sustain her. Armed with this understanding, she is able to return home to Chicago and continue with the remainder of her life.

This novel effectively conveys a mood of deep introspection and serves as a powerful reminder of how the inexorable passage of time will inevitably lead to change and loss. It is, in a sense, a modern-day rendition of the age-old adage "you can't go home again." You can physically return to the place that was once home, but the home that exists solely in your memories will no longer be there.

Another bittersweet rereading. “The Optimist’s Daughter” is a truly remarkable work, and I, unfortunately, failed to see it that way at the time. Thinking about it and trying to excuse myself, or the person I was then, I came to the conclusion that my past dissatisfaction with the work might be due to the author’s cruel treatment of Fay, the second wife of Judge McKelva, much younger than him and practically the same age as his daughter Laurel.

Welty, already in her sixties, writes in the novel about the end of a way of understanding life and conducting oneself in it, which runs parallel to the account of the judge’s death after an eye operation and in clear contrast to the New Orleans Mardi Gras celebration taking place outside the hospital, representing a fossilized Southern aristocracy and values that are largely obsolete. Laurel, the daughter of the optimistic judge, will be the focus of the narrator’s story, which confronts a bright past, not without shadows, with the future represented by Fay and her family.

\\n   “The past is not mine. I belong to the future, don’t you know?” \\n

Surely, the first time I read it, that nostalgia for a social class in which it was not frowned upon for the prestigious doctor to spank his nurse’s bottom or always speak condescendingly of blacks or for gossip to center their conversations, contrasted with the unkind portrayal of a poor and uneducated family, those “who never understand what is happening to them,” bothered me. And now, in this Trumpian era, the feelings that these representatives of what is called white trash, Fay and her family, arouse in me are not as charitable as those I might have had in those times, and I perfectly understand the contempt that can be felt for these people proud of their lack of education and ignorance (“I don’t know what that word means and I’m glad I don’t know”), of their rude manners and vulgarity, of their lack of sensitivity… not everything can be blamed on circumstances.

\\n   “Fay did not possess within herself the force of passion or imagination, and had no way of appreciating it or obtaining it from others. The others, with their lives, were surely also invisible to her. To find them, she could only rush at them armed with her small fists and strike out blindly, or spit with that small mouth of hers. She could not fight against a sensitive person in the same way that she could never love one.” \\n

But Fay and all that she represents has not only clouded Laurel’s present and darkened her future. Fay has also disrupted the memory and the idea she had of her father, someone who wanted to have a relationship and even marry someone like Fay, a substitute for her beloved mother Becky, who was so different. An aspect of her father that must always have been there and of which she perhaps was not so ignorant.

\\n   “The mystery, Laurel thought, lies not in how little we know of those around us, but perhaps in how much we really know them.” \\n

At the judge’s death, Fay will inherit the family home and everything it contains, so many and so many objects that will always be associated in her memory with the happy moments spent with her parents and that Fay will despise or destroy and that are now contaminated by that relationship her father had with her. Perhaps that is why on her last day in the house, Laurel anticipates her stepmother and burns many of the objects related to her mother, knowing that material things are not important, that she will always have the memory of that life with them, although the encounter with Fay’s world has modified them, and the values that sustained them, not always the most correct ones.

\\n   “Now, the past can neither help me nor harm me anymore than my father in his coffin. The past is like him, insensible, and can never wake. It is memory that acts like a sleepwalker. It will return with its open wounds from any corner of the world… demanding those tears to which they are entitled. Memory will never be insensible. Wounds can be inflicted on memory, again and again. In that may lie its final victory. But just as memory is vulnerable in the present, it also lives within us, and as long as it lives, and as long as we have strength, we can honor it and give it the treatment it deserves.” \\n

This novel reaches its climax over a breadboard.

I firmly believe that this accurately sums up the vivid depiction of southern living, the intense female jealousy, and the rather absurd male stupidity that this remarkable novel encompasses. The back story of the breadboard is also a profound exploration of how we cope with loss. Its desecration, yes, indeed desecration, serves to vividly illustrate the stark distinction between class and trash. Welty has an incredibly敏锐的 ear for speech and a perceptive eye for social interactions.

I was truly enamored with it.

The third quarter seems to progress in a somewhat sideways manner, but that is precisely what it takes for Laurel, the protagonist named after the state flower of West Virginia, having been raised in the flat Mississippi and now working in modern Chicago, to come to terms with the loss of her loved ones. It is a journey of self-discovery and emotional healing that is both poignant and engaging, making this novel a truly captivating read.

I thoroughly enjoyed this short novel.

It has been quite a while since I last delved into "Southern" literature, and this particular work stands as an excellent example.

It presents a captivating story of loss and all the complex emotions and experiences that emerge in its wake. These include love, which can be both tender and tumultuous; betrayal, that stings like a sharp knife; and memory, which haunts and shapes our lives.

Laurel has made the journey from Chicago to New Orleans to be by her father's side as he undergoes eye surgery. The narrative not only reveals the consequences and recovery process following the surgery but also delves deep into the intricate web of relationships.

We witness the dynamics between the daughter and her father, the evolving connection between the daughter and her father's new wife, and the various subtleties and tensions that exist within these relationships.

The story unfolds with a rich tapestry of emotions and details, drawing the reader in and keeping them engaged until the very end.

This is a rather slight novel that can be read quickly, yet it requires time to fully digest. It leaves the reader with a sense of "is that all there is?" and also the feeling that there are subtleties and depths that have only been partially grasped.

It commences with what appears to be a minor eye operation of the family patriarch, but swiftly evolves into a deathbed scene. There is some sharp, rather black humour in the depictions of the Dalziell family gathered bedside with Archie Lee, especially from Fay, the much younger wife of Judge McKelva. Her reaction to her husband's death is largely along the lines of "I don't see why this had to happen to me."

Laurel, the middle-aged only daughter, returns "home" to Mount Salus, Mississippi to bury her father and also to confront the collective memories of the past. She discovers a home surrounded by all the old neighbours and friends (still referring to themselves as "the bridesmaids"), yet marred by the traces of her new stepmother. The rumpled marital bed, the ruined bread board, the nail polish splashes on her father's desk: Fay's careless presence represents the harsh present reality. Laurel shoulders the guilt of an only child who moved away, thereby leaving her elderly father to fend for himself and fall prey to the machinations of others.

Although it is not strictly a biographical novel, the introduction elucidates how Welty utilized numerous significant details from her own past to pen this exploration of the death of a parent.