I think the blues is the mastery of the Western idiom after the Industrial Revolution, when Marx described it as, “all that’s solid melts in the air”. Edwards seems to find joy in the otherwise harrowing experience of being uprooted as a homeless man.
In this book, he describes his rootless life as a bluesman travelling from door to door, looking for a gig. Whatever challenges he meets on the road, he turns into searing blues. His slide guitar sounded like the searing contact of the train on the rails. Edwards’ lesson is that life should be affirmed in whatever has been thrown at us.
Edwards triumphs, despite all the severe challenges set upon him by the precarious existence of an artist. Edwards even got to meet Robert Johnson and was there when the legendary musician was poisoned by the jealous husband of the woman he was having an affair with. One learns from Edward’s worldweary voice that beauty is everywhere.
