One morning in Memphis, I was due to meet with the CEO of Elvis Presley Enterprises, Jack Soden. But owing to a mix-up in scheduling, Soden couldn't make it, and as a consolation prize, I was sent next door with a free ticket to Graceland. An hour later, I walked away convinced that the only thing separating Graceland's perfectly bad taste from good was the absence of irony.

As evidence, I offer the "TV Room," which Elvis had professionally decorated sometime in the late '70s, according to the gravelly narration on the audio tour. He had three televisions mounted in the wall after hearing that LBJ liked to watch all three networks at the same time, but no explanation was given for the yellow-and-black color scheme, or for the simian statue on the coffee table.

Awful taste? Sure. But wasn't Elvis just ahead of his time? Three years after his death in 1977, the Italian designer Ettore Sottsass founded the Memphis Group in a deliberate effort to create some of the ugliest furniture the world has ever known. (Although he named the group after a Bob Dylan song, the parallels are hard to ignore.) But while Graceland continues to be mocked as a cathedral of philistinism, Memphis is practically respectable in some circles. A critical reevaluation is in order, I think. It's just not fair.