"That's All Right, Mama: The Unauthorized Life of Elvis's Twin," by Gerald Duff. Baskerville Press. 278 pages. $21
Lawdy, Lawdy, Miss Clawdy, there were two of them!
From the beginning you know Mr. Duff's work is pure conjecture, but along the way it's easy to get caught up in the intrigue of this tall tale. What if Elvis' twin, Jesse Garon, didn't die at birth? What if the doting, possessed Gladys Presley insisted that there was only enough room for one baby in her dreams?
And what if it took two hip-swiveling, peanut-butter-and-banana-sandwich eating boys from Tupelo to create King Elvis? (Jesse Garon's existence alone would explain all those Elvis sightings in every doughnut shop from Titusville to Timbuktu.)
Fasten your seat belts, because the tale unfolds like a tornado in a Southern storm. It twists, it turns, it cuts across the countryside and doubles back again just to jar you into thinking maybe, maybe it could have happened this way. Uh huh, oh yeah yeaaah, yeaaah.
This black comedy weaves pathos and tragedy as if they were identical twins.