Is Graceland Worth Visiting? No … here’s why

The Infamous Graceland Mansion

Elvis purchased the 10,266 square foot two-story Classical Revival home on 13.8 acres in 1957 when he was 22 years old for just over $100,000. 

It opened to the public in 1982, just five years after the King died.

The house was inherited by his daughter, Lisa Marie, in 1993 when she turned 25. The house is now owned by her three daughters. 

Throughout his twenty years at Graceland, Elvis did extensive redecorating and remodeling, expanding the house by 7,000 square feet.

Don’t be deceived, though. Sheer numbers aside, the inside does not give way to the spaciousness of a mansion. In fact, it’s rather a tight-squeeze at times. Downright claustrophobic. And it doesn’t help that they stuff you in there like sardines and herd you along like cattle.

Don’t get me wrong, it’s a nice house. Dated, but beautifully decorated. But not what I would call a mansion.

The tour includes: the living room, Vernon and Gladys’ (Elvis’ parents) bedroom, the dining room, the kitchen, the Jungle Room, and the downstairs TV room and pool room.

The tour continues outside into Vernon’s office, the Trophy Building, the Racquetball Building, the pool, and Meditation Garden.

The top floor remains off-limits. 

The iconic Jungle Room didn’t come into being until 1975,
when the King was dating Linda Thompson.

Please note, there are two exits—the front and back door. However, once you descend the mirrored stairs into the basement, you will be stuck behind the throng until you emerge upwards on the other green carpeted stairwell. 

We had the misfortune of getting stuck behind a twelve person VIP tour being led by a tour guide. While we love to overhear a good fun fact here at wilder + wonder, it proved impossible to get around the group (trust, we tried).

This left us trapped in very tight corridors with lots of other people. Not a good time.

Also note: there are no bathrooms open to the public at the mansion.

Upon exiting the back door into the outdoor carport, you can then make your way through the exterior buildings: Vernon’s office, the Trophy Building, and the Racquetball Building.

Many of the items housed in the Trophy Building have been moved across the street into the museum’s there. 

Sadly, the grounds are very limited to guests. You can see the horse pasture from the walk to the pool, but that is about the extent of it. 

We were at the house for a total of about an hour before catching the shuttle back.

Elvis Presley’s Memphis

In 2017, a 40 acre addition to the campus was opened to the tune of $45 million. 

The addition includes museum and exhibit space, Gladys’ Diner and Vernon’s Smokehouse, gift shops, Elvis’ two airplanes—The Lisa Marie and The Hound Dog II—and The Soundstage at Graceland.

Inside the 200,000 square foot Entertainment and Exhibit Complex you’ll find:

• The Elvis the Entertainer Career Museum featuring a 40 foot wall of his gold and platinum records and over 100 wardrobe pieces (jewelry, jumpsuits, and capes, oh my!)
  
• Presley Motors Automobile Museum 
  
• And the Elvis Discovery Exhibits where you’ll get a look inside his world with Presley Cycles, the Graceland Archives Experience, Private Presley: Elvis in the Army, ICONS: The Influence of Elvis Presley, Lisa Marie: Growing Up Presley, Elvis Movie Exhibition, and a Hollywood Backlot. 

Most people, I’m told, spend at least half a day here.

But after an hour of waiting to get to the mansion and an hour at the mansion itself, we could not get the f*ck out of there fast enough. We only did a brief walkthrough of the cars and the gift shop before leaving.

Maybe it’s because I’m from Detroit (Motor City, baby, represent), but I did quite enjoy the exhibit with all those rotund, shiny, chrome automobile bodies striking a handsome pose, awash in all their vintage 50s heyday glory.

I would have liked to tour the airplanes, and seen a jumpsuit or two. But not enough to warrant a return trip.

The inherent flaws in design

In the travel and tourism industry, not all experiences are what they’re marketed to be. On the internet, the dedicated individuals who investigate these fallacious claims are members of an elite squad known as Travel Bloggers. These are our stories. *dun, dun*

The whole Graceland experience was so bewildering, my partner-in-crime (Ashley) and I spent an entire hour un-teasing and debriefing the ordeal at lunch afterwards.

Disclaimer: As this was my first and only time visiting Graceland, I did not experience it before the 200,000 square foot entertainment and exhibit complex was built, so I can’t speak to what the experience was like before then. What I can say though, is that it is clear that a lot of money and time and effort went into the addition. 

In fact, they all seem to be very proud of it over at Graceland.

And yet, to me, there were many inherent flaws in the design of the experience itself. 

No Exit

Hell is other people. Or in this case, not being able to escape.

It’s like the Sartre play, except Hell isn’t a room you can’t get out of, it’s a museum experience designed so that you can’t exercise autonomous decision making and are funneled through like cattle. 

From the start, you are not given a choice.

You stand in line. Listen to the spiel. Watch the film. Are pushed through the exit door to the red carpet photo op (which you do have the choice to bypass. Smart play on Graceland’s part—when exerting control over others, it’s always wise to give your subjects some illusion of control, as to not alert them to the reality that they are, in fact, being controlled).

From there you are expertly funneled between the stanchions and through to the shuttle queue. And henceforth, from shuttle to mansion steps and through the mansion itself. 

As someone who has been called “fiercely independent” on more than one occasion in my three decades upon this earth, the whole process was very unnerving. 

Even from the shuttle line—which is outside, and from where nothing, that is to say, no actual physical barricade, is actually stopping you from just walking over to the museum or exiting stage left to the parking lot—there is a feeling of restriction. That you’re not allowed to go anywhere other than where, and when, you’re told to go there.

Lest the Graceland secret police arrest you? Honestly, I’m not sure what the actual repercussions would be if you fell out of line. Probably nothing.

Or maybe security would lock you in a dark Graceland jail cell and blast Jailhouse Rock on repeat until your ears bleed while forcing you to eat one peanut butter, banana, and bacon sandwich after another?

We just don’t know. Either way, the authoritarianism is real here, folks.

I felt less controlled by the Secret Service agents who quickly ushered us out of the back garden of the White House, post-tour, to secure the president’s safe return than I did at Graceland (and I don’t care what anybody says, we did see President Barack Obama in the back of that black town car and he did wave to the four of us standing on the corner gaping and waving like idiots). 

At least that made sense to me. The forced movement and flow of people through Graceland just does not.

Granted, Graceland gets over 600,000 visitors a year. That’s thousands of people a day. And admittedly, for a single house, that’s a lot of people, considering the entire nation of Iceland gets around 2 million visitors a year by comparison. 

So yes, there needs to be a way to manage all the peoples. 

But surely, there’s got to be a better way of doing it?

Like give people options?

Give me options or give me death!

Dramatic yes, but there’s that fiercely independent streak kicking in again (what can I say, I’m Scottish and American). 

If, from the Welcome Center, visitors were given the option of either: watching the film and then getting in the shuttle line for the house tour or touring the entertainment exhibits first, it would disperse numbers and reduce the bottleneck traffic flow.

(You can, technically, do this if you arrive hours before your ticket time. However, you’ll still have to wait in the shuttle line after your timed entrance.)

Tickets have timed entrances, so presumably, the number of guests allowed in at each time is already limited (though, that did not really seem to be the case, in my experience). 

It would make more sense to me, in both a crowd control and storytelling capacity, if visitors were encouraged to explore the museum and archival exhibits first. Then, they could trickle through at their own pace to the shuttle line to tour the house. And, if you see the shuttle line is long at a particular moment, then you could perhaps linger a bit longer in the exhibits.

Seeing Elvis’ history first, from his time as a private in the army through the rise of his career in music and movies—the cars, the jumpsuits, the whole deal—and then seeing where he resided would pack a more powerful punch. 

But instead of taking in all the memorabilia, building up the narrative of Elvis—his life, his influences, his impact on pop culture around the world—you’re forced to stand in a line for an hour (or more) and in the heat. 

And then, the whole rigamarole you have to endure upon arriving to the house itself … it’s clear they’re trying to fit too many people into a not very large space at one time. I’d rather tickets be more sparse and competitive, than freely given and have to endure that. 

It would make for a much more pleasant experience if the line for the shuttle was reasonable (fifteen minutes or so), and then, upon arrival to the house, you and the twenty other guests would be allowed in to the house. 

Lack of immersive experiences

Overall, the aesthetic of the new entertainment and exhibit complex is oddly austere and utilitarian. A large Hollywood backdrop set filled with props.

Granted, I only made it through the automobile exhibit, so I can’t speak to the entire museum experience. But, somehow, despite the clear efforts made otherwise, there feels to be such a missed opportunity for immersive and interactive design features.

Where’s my chance to sit in a pink Cadillac and take a picture? Yes, I know I can’t sit in the actual Pink Cadillac, and I don’t want to, don’t be absurd. I understand the OG needs to remain untouched for longevity’s sake.

But compared to such experiences as Greenfield Village or the Henry Ford Museum in Detroit, or even the interactive workaday exhibits on display at Middleton Plantation in Charleston, Graceland felt two-dimensional. 

Look, but don’t touch. Like a couch protected beneath a vinyl cover—there, but not really there. You can sit on it, but what you feel is a plastic veneer of the real thing.

I’ll note here, that in the VIP experience, you do get to hold (with gloves on) some of Elvis’ belts and rings.

A crisis of identity

It wasn’t until afterwards, as we were making our way through the empty sidewalks outside the entertainment and exhibit complex, that it occurred to me—it was like walking through Disneyland without any costumed characters or vendor carts selling overpriced bubble wands. 

(Though, of course, there was a gift shop inside that you’re forced to exit through to indulge all your consumer needs.)

The Graceland concourse was a ghost town of amusement park-land with Elvis echoing through the outside pedestrian thoroughfares like a dream of an abandoned Disneyland.

No, maybe it was more like walking through the set lots of Hollywood with behemoth, windowless warehouse structures surrounding us. Promising the illusion of more, but falling flat.

Graceland, of course, had its name prior to becoming a tourist destination. (It had the name even before Elvis bought it. Former owner, Stephen C. Toof named the farm after his daughter, Grace.) But, the term “land” lends itself to a certain meaning in the collective ethos of modern culture, in the common vernacular. It evokes a promise of immersion into another world. One, which, Graceland, fell very short for me.

I think, more than anything,

What we have here is a place that doesn’t know what it is. Graceland has an identity crisis—a house and museum masquerading as some sort of amusement park. 

This is weird?

As I mentioned above, I’m no stranger to a historic house tour.

But we couldn’t help but keep asking ourselves: what was it about Graceland that made it feel so weird?

Was it the fact that family members are still alive? Is it that, ultimately, Elvis was just a man, and here I was, touring the house he died in?

True, I’m no Elvis fan (talent aside, I think the man was trash). So, to put it in context, if given the opportunity, would I—a Swiftie for life—tour Taylor Swift’s Manhattan penthouse? See her stage outfits through all her Era’s on display? Look upon a forty foot wall of her platinum records?

In a museum, maybe yes. Like the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame or the Country Music Hall of Fame and Museum. 

But her actual house? Where she lived?

No, I don’t think I would.

It feels, somehow, like a violation. An exploitation. 

For individuals, like both iconic pop stars, who have given so much of themselves to the public, I can’t help but feel that their home—their sanctuary—is sacred, off-limits, and should be treated as such.

It also has the feeling of being out of place. Out of context. Or rather, no context other than place.

Reading List

• Me and a Guy Named Elvis: My Lifelong Friendship with Elvis Presley
• Last Train to Memphis: The Rise of Elvis Presley 
• Elvis and Me: The True Story of the Love Between Priscilla Presley and the King of Rock n Roll 
• Inside Graceland

Bookshop.org

Bookshop.org

Bookshop.org

Bookshop.org

Watch List

Both movies show Graceland interiors and exteriors in a more satisfying way than simply walking through it. 

• Elvis
• Priscilla