TARZAN PRESLEY by Nigel Cox
Published June 3, 2004 ~ isbn 0 86473 4808 ~ 464 pages
$29.95
VICTORIA UNIVERSITY PRESS
PO Box 600 ~ Wellington, New Zealand
www.vuw.ac.nz/vup
email: victoria-press@vuw.ac.nz
Phone: 04 463 6531 ~ fax 04 463 6581
"Raised by gorillas in the wild jungles of New Zealan,
scarred in battles with vicious giant wetas, seduced by a beautiful young
scientist, discovered by Memphis record producer Sam Phillips and adored
by millions -- the dirst-to-dreams life story of Tarzan Presley is as legendary
as his 30 number one hits. That story came to a dramatic end in 1977 when
Tarzan took his own life. But now, in a sensational new development, a
manuscript, written in old age by Tarzan himself, has emerged which proves
that his story didn't end there. At last we can know: why did he leave
us? What did it all mean to him? And -- for the first time -o- what did
it feel like to be Tarzan Presley?"
NEW
ZEALAND HERALD ONLINE REVIEW
By DAVID LARSEN ~ 2004.05.31
That thunder you hear is the drumming of 100,000 feet,
racing to the nearest book store to pick up one of the most interesting
novels of the year. You should join them. But first join me: we need a
moment's stupefied gaping. This book should not exist. I can't believe
it does.
Granted, any novel is a staggeringly unlikely artefact
— there are an infinity of possible novels, and a tiny fraction of them
actually get written. But this one? "Raised by gorillas in the wild jungles
of New Zealand, scarred in battles with vicious giant weta, seduced by
a beautiful young scientist, discovered by Memphis record producer Sam
Phillips and adored by millions, the dirt-to-dreams life story of Tarzan
Presley is as legendary as his 30 number one hits."
In the film industry, this is the kind of brilliant high
concept that would convince producers they were on to something very marketable.
Tarzan! Elvis! Hey, what if they were really the same person? And what
if this person faked his death and wrote a memoir in old age? So that all
the myths about Elvis being still alive were, you know, really true! Only
it would be Tarzan!
The film would be a disaster, and my job as a reviewer
would be to sound as witty as possible while saying so. Whereas Nigel Cox's
fourth novel has me jumping up and down excitedly because I can't believe
how good it is. To take such an unlikely, attention-getting idea and develop
it into such an intelligent book — it's like seeing someone suddenly make
a successful film of Lord of the Rings in Miramar. Go back in time a decade
and tell people about it, and you'd be laughed right back into the present.
Cox breaks his story into three sections, each of which
presents challenges quite capable of sinking the novel. The first third
is the tale of a little boy raised by gorillas in the wilds of the Wairarapa,
circa 1935. Cox could have treated the outrageous idea that gorillas should
be roaming the New Zealand bush as a sort of magic realist game, so silly
that we'd simply have to laugh and swallow it. Instead he treats the gorillas,
and Tarzan's life with them, the way the very best science fiction writers
might: he builds them into hard reality by giving us lots of convincing
detail, so that very soon we know how these gorillas live and smell, how
the world looks to them and to the strange hairless ape they've adopted.
Of course there are gorillas in New Zealand, how could we have doubted?
Oh, and also cow-sized weta.
Having written a much more believable and thought-provoking
account of a human raised by gorillas than Edgar Rice Burroughs ever managed,
Cox then has his Kiwi Tarzan discovered, taken to America, adopted into
the Presley family, and almost destroyed by mega-stardom. The logic
of the transition is impeccable, which is just one sign that Cox is in
the demigod league. You know he's doing something deeply artificial right
in front of you— grafting one legend on to another — and you can't see
the stage machinery or hear the gears grinding. It all makes perfect sense.
That isn't to say it feels comfortable. Tarzan's slow
morph from ape man to bloated, drug-raddled singer is a heart-breaking
study of innocence betrayed. It also feels painfully arbitrary. By this
I don't mean that Cox fails to establish Tarzan credibly in his new, over-civilised
role, but that Tarzan enters the human world almost as a tabula rasa, crackling
with potential. What kind of understanding of humanity will this boy be
capable of? What will he see in us, and in himself, that we aren't capable
of seeing, because we're too used to ourselves? This is a character who
could become anything. Watching all those possibilities dwindle down to
the charade of the Vegas years is saddening.
By making Tarzan live every detail of Elvis' adult life,
Cox turns him into an explanatory metaphor, a new way of thinking about
a very strange career. The third part of the novel is where Tarzan re-emerges
as an independent character, old enough and experienced enough now to see
all the wrong turns that led to Vegas, and determined to see what kind
of life he can make for himself once he's escaped his fame. We're off the
map here, past re-workings of Burroughs and re-tellings of the Elvis story,
and Cox quietly gives the culmination of Tarzan's life its own proper form.
It's neither sensational nor predictable; you read it and think, "Yes.
That rings true."
This whole book rings true. It's superbly written and
utterly original. You'll never look at a weta quite the same way again.
David
Larsen is an Auckland reviewer VUP, $29.95
Christmas Giving Made Easy
The
New Zealand Herald ~ December 13, 2004
Nigel Cox’s Tarzan Presley (VUP, $29.95) got David Larsen excited.
There is a boy (Tarzan) raised by gorillas in the Wairarapa (Tarzan), then
adopted by the Presley family. You have to read it, Larsen said so: "That
thunder you hear is the drumming of 100,000 feet, racing to the nearest
book store to pick up one of the most interesting novels of the year. You
should join them."