Around our office, the noun “trifle” has been bandied about recently. Like
this: “Did you finish your record review?” “Yeah, but it’s a trifle,” meaning
that – love it or hate it – the writer is aware that he has written something
of little significance. A trifle is also a dessert, a sponge-cake affair with
some sort of fruit topping. It’s attractive and sweet and usually the last
thing any of us should consume, which doesn’t negate its transitory purpose: to
sate and satisfy without regard to substance.
Books are often trifles, too, especially those that look attractive enough
to pick up and sample but are forgotten the moment they’re laid back down.
Given the myriad books on Elvis Presley, ranging from exhaustive critical
analyses (such as the above-reviewed and highly recommended Last Train to
Memphis) to cheesy tell-all gut-spillers (Are You Lonesome Tonight?
and Elvis), it’s no surprise that most of the books about his life
are, for wont of a better word, trifles.
Literary Presleyana has created some very interesting variations on the
Elvis theme, best realized by Greil Marcus’ Dead Elvis, a profoundly
believable case for Elvis as a cultural icon. Elvis Rising and Mondo
Elvis were short story collections about the King while The Two Kings:
Jesus and Elvis is the silliest premise yet – side-by-side comparisons of
the Son o’ God and Big E.
Well, now come two more pretenders to the throne: The Strange Case of
the Lost Elvis Diaries by Barry Willis (Waynoka Press, $8.95 paper) and
The Hitchhiker’s Guide to Elvis by Mick Farren (Collector’s Guide
Publishing, $12.95 paper). Actually, they are a fine example of bad/good
Elvis-obsessing, a kind of Fat Elvis and Skinny Elvis of publishing. The
Lost Elvis Diaries is definitely Fat Elvis – a parody. Diaries
follows a desperate reporter named Jeff Parrish as he is offered access to
the King’s journals while crossing paths with government agents, sleazy
preachers, and Elvis impersonators. This inoffensive trifle appeared as a
14-part series in The Memphis Flyer, and perhaps, should have stayed
there. Hitchhiker’s Guide to Elvis is Skinny Elvis; it being a fairly
extensive guide to collectors of Presleyana. It also made me realize that we
made a mistake during the early days of the Chronicle, by opening the
bottle of Elvis wine during a – ahem – social gathering. That bottle might
have fetched upward of $12 today, though its bouquet might be
questionable.
It’s difficult to imagine what Presley would be like today if he hadn’t
flopped over on the john back in 1978. The only thing for sure is that book
publishers would be looking for other trifles to feed the public. – Margaret Moser
This article appears in May 19 • 1995 and May 19 • 1995 (Cover).