Dolly Parton is a product of Appalachia, USA. From Locust Ridge, Tennessee, she grew up in a one-room shack with 11 brothers and sisters, the daughter of sharecroppers.
I recently visited Dollywood, Parton’s amusement park located in her hometown. At the “Chasing Rainbows” museum dedicated to her life, she has a room set up to resemble an attic. In it are bits of Dolly memorabilia, movie posters, costumes, and old furniture. You enter the room and a film is projected on the wall in front of you. In it Dolly flits about the screen, yammering on about her memories of “growin up poor,” making suggestive comments about her breasts, and generally being delightful. She really does resemble a ray of giggling sunshine, every part of her persona seeming to want to ease pain and bring joy.
Her childhood was burdened by hardship. Her song, “In the Good Old Days (When Times Were Bad)” gives you the general idea:
I’ve seen Daddy’s hands
Break open and bleed
And I’ve seen him work till he’s stiff as a board
And I’ve seen Momma layin
In suffer and sickness
In need of a doctor we couldn’t afford
It seems logical that someone who grew up in this kind of environment would want to get as far away from it as possible. Yet, though Dolly is a huge international star, she’s been married to the same man, Carl Dean, owner of a road paving business in Nashville, since she was 19. Building Dollywood has also allowed her to retain a huge influence on her hometown, revitalizing its once non-existent economy.
One area in which she has strayed from reality is her looks. She has created an exaggerated version of herself – with the platinum wigs, balloon-like breasts, facelifts and over-the-top costumes. She looks like an actual doll. Another line from “In the Good Old Days” might provide a clue as to why she’s gone this route.
And I couldn’t enjoy then
Havin a boyfriend
I had nothing decent to wear at all
Deprivation made Dolly feel unattractive, so it’s as though she’s done everything in her power to prevent that feeling from returning. The title of Dolly’s latest album, Backwoods Barbie, acknowledges both her hillbilly upbringing and this subsequent adoption of a doll-like persona. Another of Dolly’s trademarks that has developed over time is her giggle, a seemingly air-headed tic that peppers her speech as well as her singing. While it might seem annoying coming from someone else, when Dolly does it it’s entertaining, because you know she is in on her own joke, playing on the stereotype of he Dumb Blonde – fully aware that it’s a caricature. As she’s said, “I'm not offended by all the dumb blonde jokes because I know I'm not dumb... and I also know that I'm not blonde.” Or perhaps more succinctly, “I enjoy the way I look, but it’s a joke.” By making fun of herself, she prevents herself from being hurt by others’ criticism. But beyond that, she projects such positivity – the giggle seems to stem from a deep desire to make everything all right, spread happiness and forget adversity - that you have no choice but to giggle with her.
Her song “Joshua” is a primer on positive thinking. Her first number one hit, it’s a tale about traipsing onto the land of a mean old recluse, refusing to believe that anyone could “be that mean” and subsequently marrying him. Even the somewhat dark “Jolene” manages to praise the other woman’s looks and instead of expressing anger over this woman trying to take her man, she simply pleads for her not to, “even though she can.”
This positivity is the key to Dolly’s popularity and has made her the richest country star ever, worth about $600 million. Well, positivity and a steel-cut business savvy. Much of her financial success is due to her decision not to sell the rights to her song “I Will Always Love You” to Elvis and the song’s explosive success years later when Whitney Houston covered it for the Bodyguard soundtrack.
Aside from this shrewdness, her songwriting reveals another kind of genius, the ability to capture profound truth in charming golly-gee-whiz colloquialisms. This is probably the best thing about Dolly and about country music in general. In under three minutes, Parton's hit "9 to 5" accomplishes the lofty task of illustrating the frustration and emptiness of contemporary American life but somehow making you feel okay about it, all while rhyming “kitchen” with “ambition.” How can you not love this woman?
