Baby, Let's Play House
Elvis Presley and the Women Who Loved Him
-
- 10,99 €
-
- 10,99 €
Descripción editorial
[Alanna] Nash belongs in the pantheon of great music writers, and [Baby, Let’s Play House] is a fascinating study.” —Rosanne Cash
Just in time for Elvis Presley’s would-be 75th birthday comes a new book by Elvis expert, journalist, and Country Music Association Media Achievement Award winner Alanna Nash. Called "by far the best study of Presley I have ever read. . . Impressively researched written—and felt" by New York Times bestselling author Philip Norman (author of John Lennon and Shout!) and “the most entertaining Elvis book ever” by New York Times bestselling author Jimmy McDonough (Shakey: Neil Young's Biography), Baby, Let’s Play House is the first-ever Elvis book to focus solely on his complex relationships with women, including celebrities such as Ann-Margret, Linda Thompson, Mary Ann Mobley, Cher, Raquel Welch, Barbara Eden, and Cybill Shepherd. Featuring dozens of exclusive interviews and scores of never-before-seen photos, Baby, Let’s Play House is a must-have collector’s item for fans of The King everywhere.
PUBLISHERS WEEKLY
Nash culls reminiscences from long-term girlfriends, starlets like Ann-Margret and Cybill Shepherd, and assorted strippers, showgirls and groupies for this gossipy, besotted biography of rock's original sex god. They attest to the allure that had females lining up for access to the young Elvis's bed: devastating looks, pelvic gyrations and a bad-boy sneer combined with a romantic soul, sublime kissing technique and a courtliness that lulled parents into handing over their underage daughters. (He was attracted to 14-year-old brunettes, Nash argues, like future wife Priscilla.) And there's the indefinable magnetism i.e., celebrity that kept them coming through the drugs and debauchery, the bizarre monologues and random gunplay, the impotence and incontinence and vomit and bloat of the King's declining years. Nash's mix of breathless melodrama ("his voice was soft and sensuous, and he had a mischievous grin on his face, and he was looking straight at her") with rote psychoanalysis ("Elvis could never really let go of Gladys") often reads like a fan magazine. Her shallow but vivid portrait nonetheless manages to evoke much of what made Elvis so enthralling.
