Jonathan Yardley writes about Eudora Welty in The Washington Post.
Eudora Welty is one of the most interesting and appealing figures in
20th-century American literature, and one of the most enigmatic. She
fits in no convenient literary pigeonhole, and a mere four years after
her death her literary legacy is not easily assessed. Between 1941 (A
Curtain of Green) and 1984 (One Writer’s Beginnings), she published
many short stories of indisputable brilliance — among them "Why I Live
at the P.O.," "A Worn Path" and "The Wide Net" — as well as five
engaging if somewhat less successful novels, a collection of excellent
essays and reviews and a volume of photographs of her native
Mississippi. It is an admirable life’s work, yet precisely where to put
it in the galaxy of American letters is something of a mystery.
Though Welty is best known for her writing, during her younger years she often took a Rolleiflex with her on journalism assignments. Welty the photojournalist was derailed, however, when she lost her camera in France. "I punished myself. I didn’t deserve a camera after that. I was so crushed, and by then cameras were much more expensive and of course now they are out of sight," she said.