Gee, thanks, Mr. Cosh, for making me regret eating that peanut butter sandwich just now.
Posted by Andrea Harris at May 20, 2003 12:30 PMOh, whatsamatter, Andrea? Is it so awful to contemplate the contents of a recently-expired Elvis's gut?
And, was it a fried peanut-butter-and-banana sammich?
Posted by: Dave Himrich at May 20, 2003 at 04:27 PMThe idea was to get high on the same pills that got Elvis high for the last time. By the laws of sympathetic magic this would obviously actually make you become Elvis--and as you read on and on through the dazed thickets of Lester's piece, the narrator gradually does become Elvis (in much the same way that Kinbote's real identity is slowly unveiled in Pale Fire) and starts telling us what Elvis feels and thinks. It's a druggy tour de force, although Lester, ever aware of the dangers of self-parody, probably would've dismissed it by now if he'd lived past the age of 33. I am sorry about the sandwich though.
Posted by: Colby Cosh at May 20, 2003 at 09:16 PM