The trickster deity in West Africa, Esu, was reformulated in parts of the New World as Legba (also known as Elegguá, Eshu, Elegbara), who in the Yoruba pantheon stands at spiritual crossroads and has power over fortune and misfortune:
At a crossroads in the history of the Yoruba gods, when each wished to find out who, under God, was supreme, all deities made their way to heaven, each bearing a rich sacrificial offering on his or her head. All save one. Eshu- Elegbara, wisely offering the deity of divination with a sacrifice, had been told by him what to bring to heaven—a single crimson parrot feather (ekodide), positioned upright upon his forehead, to signify that he was not to carry burdens on his head. Responding to the fiery flashing of the parrot feather, the very seal of supernatural force and ashe (life force), God granted Eshu the force to make all things happen and multiply (Thompson, p. 18)
In a number of Caribbean communities, Esu is known as Elegguá, especially among the Lucumí, a Yoruban people of Cuba and the Dominican Republic. Elegguá's colors are red and black, and according to Sublette, he's always the first and last to be saluted in a ceremony (p. 215). Elegguá inspires musical ceremonies in the Santeria tradition, as seen here:
It was with this power over fortune and misfortune that Legba appeared in African-American culture at the crossroads, serving as an intermediary between the spirit world and humanity. Perhaps the most famous American example comes from the great bluesman, Robert Johnson:
I went to the crossroad, fell down on my knees
I went to the crossroad, fell down on my knees
Asked the Lord above “Have mercy, now save poor Bob, if you please”
Standin’ at the crossroad, tried to flag a ride
Ooo eeee, I tried to flag a ride
Didn’t nobody seem to know me, babe, everybody pass me by
Standin’ at the crossroad, baby, risin’ sun goin’ down
Standin’ at the crossroad, baby, eee, eee, risin’ sun goin’ down
I believe to my soul, now, poor Bob is sinkin’ down
The crossroads legend of the American South appears to be consistent with the Yoruba myth. It is unsurprising that in the historical context of the early twentieth century, when African cultural memory was less remote, this legend captured the imaginations of Robert Johnson, Peetie Wheetstraw, and other bluesmen who would, in turn, adopt it as part of their musical persona. Robert Johnson obsessed over “the forces against him,” expressing his fixation and sense of resignation in “Hellhound On My Trail,” “Me and The Devil Blues,” and “Crossroads Blues,” (Barlow, p. 49; Palmer, p. 127). In Robert Johnson’s blues, the Devil is “the ultimate trickster,” according to Barlow (p. 49). Tommy Johnson also met the trickster Devil at a crossroads under a full moon, and made a Faustian “covenant with [the Devil],” for which he was granted skill and fame (Barlow, p. 41; Palmer, p. 113). Peetie Wheatstraw claimed to be “the High Sheriff of Hell” and “the Devils son-in-law.” Notably, as the Devil, Esu/Legba in its New World incarnation was more a trickster than the Christian concept of Satan, and served a role as overseer and inspirer of the art of interpretation, as “ultimate master of potentiality” with “the force to make all things happen and multiply” (Floyd, p. 74; Thompson, p. 18-19).
Bibliography
Barlow, W., 1989. Looking Up At Down: The Emergence of Blues Culture, Temple University Press.
Floyd Jr., S.A., 1996. The Power of Black Music: Interpreting Its History from Africa to the United States, Oxford University Press, USA.
Palmer, R., 1982. Deep Blues: A Musical and Cultural History of the Mississippi Delta, Penguin
Sublette, N., 2007. Cuba and Its Music: From the First Drums to the Mambo, Chicago Review Press.
Thompson, R.F., 1984. Flash of the Spirit: African & Afro-American Art & Philosophy, Vintage.