Elvis — A War Between Good and Evil
Elvis. I had no great affinity towards him. His image hung somewhere in the back of my mind from years of media exposure. Before my time, he was an artist and musician rarely played in my home growing up. I had a friend in middle school who was obsessed with Elvis. For a moment, at fourteen, I acknowledged his existence, then again when my grandmother died, and I asked my dad for an album she had of his. I had no idea she listened to Elvis, and I am unsure why I wanted the album. It was twenty years ago.
Despite his massive fan base and cultural significance, I wasn’t interested in his persona until I was scrolling through Amazon Prime before Christmas and came across Baz Luhrmann’s Elvis (2022). At first, I thought it was campy. Tom Hanks’ character was a little overly played, as per the usual Tom Hanks acting talents. But Austin Butler carried his role with humbleness and grace that hauntingly revealed Elvis’ complex and emotionally tumultuous nature. I suspect Elvis has always lived somewhere beneath the depths of Austin Butler. It was Kismet that he took on this role.
Following this symphonic circus of a film, I was curious. I have always been drawn to the nuances of complex characters, particularly those that exude a messiah-like force, as if God placed them on this earth to carry out a mission. Elvis was a fallen angel, too bright and powerful, like a storm, to grow old.
Once I latch onto an idea of someone, I become obsessed and begin a journey down the rabbit hole of their life. I spend days and sometimes weeks in a meditative and empathic state to perceive and extract as much as possible from an individual of interest. It allows me to understand humanity’s complexities and why we constantly struggle between good and evil — our perpetual war.
I realized that Elvis was far more than I had thought. He was highly intelligent, deeply fearful and anxious, yet daring and reckless. His emotions ruled him.
I moved between anger and infatuation towards him as I studied his life. He was brooding and dark one minute and held a kind and delicate presence the next. It’s no wonder women loved him, and men wanted to be him. The layers of mystery and unpredictability were spellbinding. It must have been surreal for him to be the subject of awe and admiration from others and a heavy burden that likely led to feelings of inadequacy and neuroticism. I imagine the pressure was immense and unrelenting. Like he did, I would have holed myself up in a darkened room for days to cope with it.
Elvis was fascinated by everything. He wanted to know more and pursued a life of learning. He loved to read philosophy and spiritual books and was attracted to the discipline of martial arts and exercise. He loved to talk and exchange ideas. He was a renaissance man in his own right — a dynamic and curious soul.
Elvis’ mischievous grin reminds me of a boyfriend I had in high school. It took me some time to recall it. His high cheekbones, straight white teeth curved around his mouth, and the glimmer in his eyes when he grins are familiar. It all made sense once I read about his maternal Native American ancestry via the Cherokee Nation. My ex-boyfriend’s mother is from the Coast Salish Nation of British Columbia. Elvis’ unique physical traits were passed down to him, along with a keenly observant sense of humor and spiritual rhythm that moved through his blood like a freight train. If you’ve ever attended a powwow, you know what I mean.
No matter what people say about Elvis, he was here to blur the lines of race, class, and creed. He was here to show us that music is an immense energy that can be felt in every facet of our being.
Rock ‘n’ Roll was a divine awakening that could only be carried forth by Elvis. Yet, Elvis’s power did not negate his humanness and the darkness that permeates and tests us as living beings. If anything, the sheer responsibility placed on a young man navigating life in an isolated existence made him vulnerable to the evils of the human psyche and his emotional impulses.
Pain, heartache, loss, grief, anger, and resentment would give way to control, envy, narcissism, and depression. A path that would lead to self-destructive self-loathing and loneliness. Elvis was a dreamer and struggled with the mundanities of everyday life. The highs eventually became lows, and the lows would ultimately devour him. He was his own worst enemy. Just as God had blessed him with a messianic gift, the devil took him under. Without a clear path and faith in a divine purpose, Elvis succumbed to his fears and the vices that temporarily soothed him.
I don’t think Elvis ever became a man. He was a forever boy seeking the love of his mother to return. I think she meant everything to him, and the anger and pain he felt about her death was never-ending. I think it poisoned his relationships with women and ravaged his body. I think, in the end, that is what contributed to his ill health and death.
S. Angell is a published poet, writer, philosopher, video blogger, and preschool teacher by day. She explores various topics, including love, life, death, history, and society, from a philosophical perspective. You can find her on Instagram @therainydaypoetess or TheRainyDayPoet.com
