The phoenix is a unique (however mythological) bird that is said to live beyond 500 years. When it’s time to die, the phoenix nests itself in flames and burns to ashes. From these ashes, a new phoenix is born, and this phoenix then carries the ashes to Heliopolis, or City of the Sun.

Just like a ‘real’ phoenix, Eudora Welty’s ‘Phoenix Jackson’ is a very old woman on her own journey. She experiences trials along her way, but just like the phoenix she sort of dies there at the end of the story…

“Now, how is the boy?” asked the nurse. Old Phoenix did not speak. “I said, how is the boy?” But Phoenix only waited and stared straight ahead, her face very solemn and withdrawn into rigidity. “Is his throat any better?” asked the nurse. “Aunt Phoenix, don’t you hear me? Is your grandson’s throat any better since the last time you came for the medicine?” With her hands on her knees, the old woman waited, silent, erect and motionless, just as if she were in armor.