On being a fan
Oct. 26th, 2008 12:21 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
gonzocanuckAs the saying goes, the abyss recently stared back at me, and it was wearing oversized sunglasses, a flashy jumpsuit and sideburns. We recently visited Memphis, literally home of Elvis' home, preserved in all its intriguing 70s decor. The tour was alarmingly efficient - once your tickets are purchased, your picture is snapped in front of a backdrop of Graceland's famous gates, an audio tour is placed in your hands and you are whisked away across the street in a shuttle bus up to Elvis' front door.
At first I was confused, because the house and its "artifacts" (as the guide called them), were so pristine. Like Elvis' fondness for hiding behind two way mirrors, the prickly feeling of voyeurism bothered me as I admired the stained glass peacock windows in the living room. Most people don't know this, but the bathroom where Elvis died is directly above the foyer (if you believe he is dead, that is). The upstairs is closed, as it is maintained as private residence, plus the amount of people tromping around up there would no doubt mean modifications to the house.
The house itself is surprisingly small, but at the time I'm sure it was huge. It's hard to remember that celebrities used to be modest. I felt better once I was outside - the grounds are very pretty and well maintained - and we floated around the trophy room and racquetball court before spending a silent moment at the graves in the meditation garden.
When you feel you have seen all you can see (you can only go through the house once, unless you purchased the most expensive tour) it's back down the road in the shuttle bus. I noticed that the brick columns on either side of the famous gates have been vandalized with the leavings of fans. Once you're off the bus, you can claim the photo that was taken at the beginning for $25 and order extras if you like.
We had the platinum tour, which also let us peek at Elvis' jumpsuit collection, his cars, his two airplanes and an exhibit on his army years. Each of these exhibits exited through a gift shop. The amazing ability to merchandise one man's name and image overwhelmed me. And there were not just shot glasses, magnets, postcards, keychains and t-shirts, but luggage, replica jumpsuits and expensive replica jewellery. Man!
It took us a whopping 3.5 hours to go through everything, and we were kind of dazed at the end. As we headed south on Elvis Presley Boulevard, I remarked to my husband, "Can you imagine if Owl Farm became like this?"
"Oh God!" he exclaimed and I lapsed into silent thoughts. The amazing thing about Graceland is the supression of certain elements of Elvis' lifestyle - the parties and drugs - and even his death is treated lightly. There were almost no criticisms about him on the whole tour and oddly I felt I didn't really learn anything new about Elvis except that he had two planes! I suppose this will be a mystery for all time - who was the real Elvis? One gets the impression that he was as woefully trapped behind an image as he was at Graceland.
Now I am not a huge Elvis fan, or at least, not huge enough to buy the Elvis luggage or replica walking stick. And I guess if they need $500,000 annually to maintain the mansion, pimping every part of his life to fans and curiosity seekers is the best way to do it. It just really opened my eyes on what it means to be fan of something or someone - and Graceland and its gift shops seemed oddly perverse, even though the visit itself was enjoyable. The appetite of fans is more than what is available, officially or otherwise - and it makes me wonder where such fandomness can possibly end.
At first I was confused, because the house and its "artifacts" (as the guide called them), were so pristine. Like Elvis' fondness for hiding behind two way mirrors, the prickly feeling of voyeurism bothered me as I admired the stained glass peacock windows in the living room. Most people don't know this, but the bathroom where Elvis died is directly above the foyer (if you believe he is dead, that is). The upstairs is closed, as it is maintained as private residence, plus the amount of people tromping around up there would no doubt mean modifications to the house.
The house itself is surprisingly small, but at the time I'm sure it was huge. It's hard to remember that celebrities used to be modest. I felt better once I was outside - the grounds are very pretty and well maintained - and we floated around the trophy room and racquetball court before spending a silent moment at the graves in the meditation garden.
When you feel you have seen all you can see (you can only go through the house once, unless you purchased the most expensive tour) it's back down the road in the shuttle bus. I noticed that the brick columns on either side of the famous gates have been vandalized with the leavings of fans. Once you're off the bus, you can claim the photo that was taken at the beginning for $25 and order extras if you like.
We had the platinum tour, which also let us peek at Elvis' jumpsuit collection, his cars, his two airplanes and an exhibit on his army years. Each of these exhibits exited through a gift shop. The amazing ability to merchandise one man's name and image overwhelmed me. And there were not just shot glasses, magnets, postcards, keychains and t-shirts, but luggage, replica jumpsuits and expensive replica jewellery. Man!
It took us a whopping 3.5 hours to go through everything, and we were kind of dazed at the end. As we headed south on Elvis Presley Boulevard, I remarked to my husband, "Can you imagine if Owl Farm became like this?"
"Oh God!" he exclaimed and I lapsed into silent thoughts. The amazing thing about Graceland is the supression of certain elements of Elvis' lifestyle - the parties and drugs - and even his death is treated lightly. There were almost no criticisms about him on the whole tour and oddly I felt I didn't really learn anything new about Elvis except that he had two planes! I suppose this will be a mystery for all time - who was the real Elvis? One gets the impression that he was as woefully trapped behind an image as he was at Graceland.
Now I am not a huge Elvis fan, or at least, not huge enough to buy the Elvis luggage or replica walking stick. And I guess if they need $500,000 annually to maintain the mansion, pimping every part of his life to fans and curiosity seekers is the best way to do it. It just really opened my eyes on what it means to be fan of something or someone - and Graceland and its gift shops seemed oddly perverse, even though the visit itself was enjoyable. The appetite of fans is more than what is available, officially or otherwise - and it makes me wonder where such fandomness can possibly end.
graceland
Date: 2008-10-28 09:56 pm (UTC)