Fall Of The King -- Second Part Of Presley Bio Shows An Addicted Icon Whose Interest In Spiritualism Could Have Been His Saving Grace

If you had a fantasy of somehow going back in time and saving Elvis Presley from his sad decline and ignominous death, what would it be?

For Peter Guralnick, author of "Careless Love: The Unmaking of Elvis Presley" (Little, Brown; $27.95), the second volume of his definitive biography, the fantasy would be twofold.

"First, I'd give him the courage to seek the professional help that he needed, and, second, I'd have him take a comparative religion course at UCLA," the bespectacled, cherubic Guralnick said in his suite at the Alexis, before a reading last week at The Elliott Bay Book Co.

The first part is obvious - Elvis was addicted to a cornucopia of drugs, from barbiturates and amphetamines to sleeping pills and laxatives - but he was too proud to admit it and reacted angrily when anybody suggested he needed help.

But the second part may come as a surprise. For Guralnick, who sports a corona of gray curls and black sideburns almost as long as his subject's, Presley's fascination with spiritualism could have been his saving grace. He would have loved a course such as UCLA's, Guralnick mused, because he would have learned that all religions offer a form of redemption, through grace and sacrifice.

Guralnick's tale, beginning with Elvis' return from Army duty in Germany in 1960 and ending with his death at 42 in 1977, is very different from the one he told in "Last Train to Memphis: The Rise of Elvis Presley," the first volume of his biography, published in 1994. That read almost like an epic novel, with its story of a poor Southern boy's spectacular journey from a shotgun shack and public housing to becoming the most famous human being on the planet, an idol in every sense of the word, with a mansion on the hill called Graceland.

The second volume doesn't have such epic sweep and grandeur, but neither is it entirely a downer. The sympathetic Guralnick, who listened to the original tapes of practically every recording session Presley ever did, finds the gems that emerged the few times Presley was able to reach down into his musical core, which he could do so effortlessly and gracefully in his early days.

"Up until the last three years, when he felt he had lost his voice - and in many ways he had because of the drugs - there were moments in the studio, and most especially onstage, when he was as good as he was in the '50s," Guralnick said. "His gospel album in 1960 and some of the (recording) sessions from his comeback period in 1968 and '69 are as good as anything he ever did."

The Las Vegas shows were overblown, as Presley more and more favored bombastic songs that fed his ego, but occasionally there were moments, often when he accompanied himself on piano, when his pure love of singing would re-emerge, and other times when he would briefly resurrect that great rockin' kid from the '50s.

"Careless Love" more clearly delineates the symbiotic relationship Elvis had with his manager, Col. Tom Parker, and how their falling out in 1973, along with Elvis' divorce from his wife, Priscilla, the same year, precipitated his rapid demise.

"Colonel was his talisman," Guralnick writes. "Colonel was his luck. Colonel had held out the promise of success and delivered. And part of Elvis, the part that continued to pore over astrological and numerological charts and place his faith in the role of fate, believed that if he ever left the Colonel, his luck just might run out."

Colonel had an addiction, too - gambling, which didn't manifest itself until Elvis starting playing Vegas. As Elvis' drug dependency worsened, so did the Colonel's gambling losses (which may have eventually reached $5 million). The Colonel's debts, and Elvis' profligate spending (he once bought 13 cars in one day, and gave them away; he bought a huge ranch, filled it with buildings, equipment, vehicles and livestock, then lost interest) meant that Elvis had to keep working - recording, playing Vegas and touring - year after year.

That was the real reason for the drugs: to keep him going, to get him up for the shows, to get him to the film studio and keep him happy while making horrible films, to get him to sleep at odd times.

"He didn't get addicted to drugs in the Army, like most people think," Guralnick explained. "That was just amphetamines, which a lot of people used in those days. He could have gotten over that."

It was when doctors started giving him "vitamin injections," which were actually massive doses of speed, and strong painkillers to ease the acupuncture sessions he thought he needed, that he became addicted. He became so enamored of drugs that he developed into a walking pharmacopeia, practically memorizing the "Physicians Desk Reference," the bible of prescription drugs. The Colonel knew about his client's drug dependency, but did little to stop it until it was too late.

While Elvis seemed to shrug off his divorce, which came about because he could not stop romancing woman after woman, he was actually devastated by it, because it shattered his fantasy of having a normal family, which he longed for.

"Those pictures of them together coming out of the divorce court, with him all smiles and everything," Guralnick said, "they're very deceiving. If you look closely you can see his face is all puffed up from the drugs, and you notice he's clinging to her, he's holding her arm, or even just her coat."

He was too proud to acknowledged his pain at the time, but it all came out later, in private rages and, worse, pathetic ramblings onstage toward the end.

As for Elvis' progression of lovers, Guralnick said people might be surprised at what kind of women they were. "I've talked to many of them, more than are even in the book, and not one of them was what I'd call dumb or naive. Most of them were very smart and very nurturing, and went into it with their eyes wide open."

Elvis was not a great lover, Guralnick makes plain in the book. He preferred cuddling to sex, and had a thing for being mothered (he loved to baby talk). The only time he let down his guard and displayed his fears and pain was in private with special girlfriends.

Guralnick offers a reassessment of Vernon Presley, Elvis' father, who spent time in prison for forging a check.

"All that stuff about him never paying his debts, that he was a crook, that he was dishonest, is just not true," Guralnick insisted. "I've just recently gone through a trove of his papers, including postcards he wrote from prison that would just break your heart, and he kept meticulous financial records, in his uneducated way, and paid back every penny he ever borrowed. He was very proud of that.

"He was the one who tried the hardest to protect Elvis, but he just wasn't strong enough to take on the Colonel and the hangers-on and the businessmen."

In the end, Vernon's dignified handling of Elvis' funeral became his last act of love and devotion to his beloved son, and vividly displayed his strength of character.

"Careless Love" is not an easy read, because you know the sad ending, but it's fascinating, with amazing scenes and seriocomic moments that are unforgettable (like Elvis' desert vision of Stalin as Jesus). It is thorough, balanced and intelligent. Together with the first volume, it is the kind of biography a great American cultural figure deserves.