THE Christmas lights stay on for several extra days at Graceland
to celebrate the birth of the King - the King of Rock 'n' Roll.
Thursday 8 January 2015 would have been Elvis Presley's 80th
birthday. At his Memphis home, surrounded by the Christmas lights,
fans will cut a cake in his memory, watched by thousands of others
via the internet.
The anniversary of his death is marked every year by Elvis Week,
a summer festival. Overnight from 15 to 16 August, a solemn
candlelit vigil is held. Tens of thousands of fans walk in silence
up the driveway of Elvis's former home, Graceland. to his grave in
the Meditation Gardens. They carry flickering candles, as Elvis's
music plays gently in the background. It is, many fans say, a
profoundly spiritual occasion.
Although Elvis's death in 1977 prompted an eruption of grief, it
might have been supposed that, over time, he would fade from public
memory. At the time of his death, he was well past his pinnacle of
fame; yet, today, the name Elvis is universally recognised, and a
new generation is discovering his music in unlikely ways. For
instance, a re-mixed version of an obscure Elvis track became a
worldwide hit for the soccer World Cup in 2002.
And Elvis has refused to die. Fans began to invent rituals by
which to remember him. When Graceland opened to the public, the
mansion became a focus of what can only be described as pilgrimage.
Today it attracts around 600,000 visitors a year. Many leave
offerings at his graveside.
Prayers and petitions to Elvis can be found in profusion, many
written on the estate wall:
"Elvis we believe, always and for ever"; "Every mountain I have
had to climb, Elvis carried me on his back"; "Elvis, when are you
coming back?"; "Only two people have moved the world so much, Jesus
our Lord and Elvis our king."
Elvis imagery makes great play of a perceived connection between
Christ and Elvis. A satirical work by artist Chris Rywalt shows
Elvis displaying his sacred heart, in a style mimicking Roman
Catholic iconography. Many Christians will regard this as insulting
and sacrilegious, yet good satire can hint at hidden truth. The
truth in Elvis's case is that some fans have come to conflate the
two figures.
One version of the Elvis life story begins "He was born in a
house little bigger than a stable." The nativity narrative was
given additional colour by Elvis's father, Vernon, who described
how, at the time of his son's birth, "a wondrous blue light hovered
overhead" above their home. On the outer fringes of Elvis
"theology", there are fans who claim that the biblical Gospels are
prophecy, foretelling the life of Elvis.
Confused by his own success, Elvis himself undoubtedly held some
strange ideas about who he was. Encouraged by Larry Geller, his
hairdresser and unofficial spiritual adviser, he wondered whether
he was a quasi-messianic figure.
The vast majority of the thousands of current fans would not
explicitly acknowledge Elvis as a spiritual figure, and yet what
they do in his name can best be understood in religious terms.
Graceland is likened by the medievalist Dr Gary Vikan to a
locus sanctus, a holy place associated with an
important sacred event, where pilgrims pray, venerate relics,
perform penance, or seek healing. Elaborately decorated artworks
are left there as offerings, each one telling a unique story of a
fan and a personal relationship with the dead Elvis.
There are a number of Elvis churches, but most, such as the
"First Church of Jesus Christ, Elvis", are elaborate jokes. Serious
fans seek solace in Elvis at shrines in their own homes.
Highly significant is the part played by the Elvis
impersonators. Once discouraged, but now fully endorsed by the
Elvis estate, they have evolved into a kind of priesthood. They
take weddings but, more importantly, they lead their congregations
in celebration.
An Elvis tribute concert has become a kind of eucharist: there
is even "a communion". Fans line up to receive scarves and kisses
from the presiding Elvis. The Elvis music chosen will vary, but one
number is a constant - An American Trilogy - which
expresses an Elvis theology. It starts with an incarnational
reference: "For Dixieland, that's where I was born Early Lord one
frosty morn," as if to confirm that Elvis was born into the real
world and was truly human.
Then a passion is foretold: "So hush little baby don't you cry.
You know your daddy's bound to die." And finally comes the moment
of resurrection: "Glory, glory hallelujah, His truth is marching
on."
Elvis's religious roots were Bible-belt American. In his later
years he added gospel music to his repertoire. It is not
surprising, therefore, that fans have borrowed heavily from the
Christian tradition in constructing a religious-like movement in
memory of Elvis.
Many fans see no contradiction between loving Elvis and being
practising Christians. During Elvis Week, one Roman Catholic church
in Memphis holds a mass for fans, with plenty of Elvis T-shirts and
tattoos on show.
Only time will tell if Elvis's fans have constructed a pastiche
of Christian practice which is of little threat to orthodoxy, or if
Elvis has spawned a new heresy.
Ted Harrison is a former BBC religious affairs
correspondent.