All Roads Are Open

Or, how "The Crossroads Gazette" got its name.

A Forest at Dawn with a Deer Hunt, Peter Paul Rubens ca. 1635. Via the Metropolitan Museum of Art.

Twilight comes late at the end of June, but you wait patiently for the sky to shift from tangerine to pink to cerulean before lacing up your shoes. You grab a flashlight by the front door but leave your cell phone behind—you won’t be needing it, not where you’re going.

Outside your cabin, the woods are quiet. The heat of the summer overwhelms you even as the stars flicker one by one overhead, even as the crickets rally their choir and the canopy of oak blocks the last embers of the setting sun. You ignore the bead of sweat trickling down your forehead and place one foot in front of the other.

In the forest deep, you hear the shuffle of deer emerging for their evening foraging, the distant cry of an owl preparing for its hunt. A stream meanders lazily beside the trail, its muddy water a slithering copperhead luring you ever onward. By the time you reach the place where the trails cross, the woodland has darkened around you, and your heartbeat thunders when it dawns on you that you’re alone. For now.

Because someone once told you that if you come to the place where two roads meet and whisper the right words, something might come to find you—someone who can smooth the twisting trails you climb in your mind and lay your fears to rest. So, you stand in the center of the crossing paths, follow the instructions, and wait…

What makes the study of folklore both endlessly fascinating and frustrating is how the origins of common folkloric motifs are often hopelessly muddled. The crossroads, or the place where two roads meet, is the perfect example of this puzzle. A crossroads is a liminal space, potent with the magic of endless possibilities. The romance of choice—of all roads being open and beckoning one forth—permeates different cultures and time periods.

The ancient Greeks had Hecate, goddess of magic and guardian of the in-between spaces—entrances, doorways, and of course, crossroads—both of our world and the underworld. Before she became Diana, the Roman goddess was known as Trivia (from the Latin trivium or “triple way”) and was associated with the three-way crossroads. Like Hecate, with whom she was sometimes conflated (alongside Artemis), Diana was likewise connected to the underworld.

Throughout the Celtic world, fairy paths or roads feature prominently in folklore. While not always appearing at a physical crossroads, these paths, like the paths to the underworld of Greek mythology, also serve the purpose of intersection between our realm and the realm of spirits. Fairy roads are to be avoided, and obstructing these mystical pathways with new construction can lead to ill-fortune and even death.

But the motif of the crossroads doesn’t solely appear in European folklore. The Yoruba òrìṣà (orisha) Èṣù (Eshu, or Eshu-Elegba) is believed to enforce natural and divine law, ruling from the crossroads. In the Bakongo religion, the yowa or dikenga cross symbolizes the boundary between the physical and spiritual worlds. During the transatlantic slave trade, enslaved Africans brought these beliefs to the Americas.  

Forced to convert to Christianity, these individuals created diasporic religions such as Haitian Vodou and Cuban Santería, which syncretized Bakongo and Yoruba beliefs, amongst others, with Roman Catholicism. Papa Legba, a lwa in both Haitian Vodou and Louisiana Voodoo, is a crossroads spirit who intermediates between God and humans. Scholars believe he originates from the Yoruba orisha Eshu-Elegba, and he is syncretized with Saint Anthony, Saint Peter, and Saint Lazarus.

And I would be remiss not to mention the Devil at the crossroads of Southern folklore. In the folktales of the American South, the Devil is less fire-and-brimstone and more of a sly trickster who charms and manipulates his victims’ way to damnation, offering fame, fortune, and sometimes, supreme musical abilities. Here, the influence of the African diaspora, as well as the Western demonization of traditional African faiths, is clear.

All over the world, the crossroads is a place of magic and mayhem, a liminal space between the worlds of humans and the realm of spirits, fairies, demons, and gods.

In naming The Crossroads Gazette, I wanted to reference this folkloric motif, as folklore, history, literature, and culture will be the focus of the Gazette. But I also chose this name because I want the essays and stories you encounter here to open new paths of inquiry and imagination. In this often bleak and chaotic world, I want you to experience the beauty of the art, stories, and creations of those who walked the road before us. I want you to dream.

All roads are open and the air is clear. Welcome to the crossroads. I hope you’ll join me.