Irish film critic Padraic Coffey (now based in Vancouver) runs a really fun series on his site Fan of Words called “My Favourite Things.” The gist is: Coffey asks a writer/critic/blogger to pick their Favorite album, their Favorite book, and their Favorite movie. And then, during a taped phone conversation the person pontificates on said album/book/movie. Coffey transcribes it and posts it. You feel like you are in the room with the person talking. You can scroll through the archive at the link above. These things are so much fun to read! Padraic reached out to me to do one of these things. I asked him if I could focus the whole thing on Elvis: favorite Elvis album, favorite book about Elvis, favorite Elvis movie. He was enthusiastic about the idea. We set up a phone conversation, and I launched into my monologue. (Padraic doesn’t run it as a QA. He doesn’t pepper you with questions. You just TALK.)
I wanted to leave a comment on your write-up of Love Crazy (1941) which I enjoyed, but the comments section seems to be closed.
I also enjoyed your transcribed monologue here, especially what you have to say about Dave Marsh’s Elvis book. You hit on something that’s kind of paradoxical about the timelessness of Elvis. How do you relay that to future generations? When only a few precious facts, mostly trivial, like peanut butter and banana sandwiches, live on in common knowledge and culture. Most people don’t have a clue about the ways in which Elvis was unique to and seeped into culture. How he became one of the defining symbols of American culture and American culture is still the world’s culture. It’s not like Shakespeare where most high school students do begrudgingly learn at least something useful about the ways he influenced our language and storytelling. And it’s not like during Elvis’ lifetime when his life, work and activities were worldwide news that everyone followed.
Hi!
// How do you relay that to future generations? //
I am not sure the answer to that although I try to bridge the gap in my own writing here. I have heard from people all over the place who have said they have been inspired to discover Elvis because of my posts about him. I’m not bragging – this is why I do what I do (or one of the reasons) and it makes me so happy to hear that people may be like, “Huh. I take Elvis for granted. Let me get into it a little bit more.”
Even I sometimes can’t quite get a grasp on it – but I think that’s part of Elvis’ essential mystery and why he is so endlessly fascinating. Like Marilyn Monroe. At some point you have to just throw up your hands and say, “Okay, so some people just have more Magic than others.” Or, as Lester Bangs wrote (and this cracks me up): “The only explanation is that Elvis is from another planet.” hahaha Oh, Lester.
Here’s a post where I really dug into it. It’s just one aspect of Elvis – but a very important one – and why he was so special as a performer.
http://www.sheilaomalley.com/?p=43682
Thanks so much for reading – it’s a beautiful and thought-provoking comment.
I’m ashamed to say I’ve read it. I need to get better at commenting. I very much enjoy your rich perspective on Elvis as well as classic cinema. Specifically regarding Elvis, I admire the way you’re able to balance ardent fandom with probing analysis. I read the piece again and you make so many salient points. As an aside, Judy Garland’s later-life performance of Over The Rainbow was spellbinding. Unnerving in the all the ways human beings are supposed to be unnerved from time to time.
I think part of what you’ve so often gotten to when it comes to Elvis is how much of an athlete he was, only of a sport that’s as emotionally draining as it is physically. The ability he had to recharge his batteries, replenish himself and then be prepared to be stripped bare again is uncanny.
Another layer you explore so vividly is something I’ve always given Elvis enormous slack for that the public consciousness never quite has. Never mind the fact that he was a 19-20-21-year-old dirt poor kid from nowhere who reached absolute fame and fortune. Someone who went from a shack in Tupelo to being the world’s living, breath, singing, hip-swiveling aphrodisiac. It’s the way in which he reached a level of icon and stardom which hadn’t existed before. He became the world’s alpha. The star that shined the brightest and cast the most light. When you get down to the human level here of what this was like, the psychology of this sort of thing, it’s scary and it’s incredible. Nowadays a singer like Justin Bieber makes it big and you know his possible career trajectories. Aaron Carter on one end of the spectrum and Elvis at the other, with–say–Donny Osmond in between. Elvis came on the scene and demolished the previous spectrum. He broke through it like a thermometer bursting in an old cartoon. Elvis entered uncharted territory. There was no guide book for that sort of superstardom. Going where no man has gone before and doing it right here on Earth. There’s no telling what could have happened. What did happen is extraordinary enough.