I live in the heart of East Tennessee, which means I have heard more stories and rumors about the queen of our region — Dolly Parton, of course — than outsiders can even imagine.

This is one complex woman we’re talking about. What the locals want the big shots in America’s coastal media elites to get about Dolly is that she is smart as a whip when it comes to business, a phenomenally consistent singer, one of the great songwriters of her era (focus on the lyrics in “Little Sparrow”) and totally sincere in her love of East Tennessee’s mountains and the people who live there.

All the themes in the WNYC podcast series “Dolly Parton’s America” are too complex to handle in one post. Still I urge readers to subscribe to this and dig in — if only to hear the awe in the voices of some New York pros when they discover that Dolly’s mountains are as beautiful and even magical as she says they are. Pay attention to the material about the “Dolly trance” that settles over them from time to time.

One way to wade into the current Dolly surge is to read this recent Los Angeles Times feature: “Dolly Parton refuses to get political. She’d prefer to heal the divide.”

Yes, note the nod to our hellish political times.

How good, how complete, is this article? How you answer that question will probably pivot on which of the following questions matter the most to you: (1) How does Parton appeal to Democrats and Republicans at the same time? Or (2) how has Dolly, for a decade or two, managed to be a superstar with both LGBTQ and evangelical audiences?

If your answer is No. 2, then you’re going to be like me — disappointed that the LA Times scribe seemed to grasp that Christian faith is a huge part of the 73-year-old Dolly’s life, story and appeal, yet decided to avoid digging into the details of her life and beliefs.

I mean, Trump is more important and more interesting than Jesus. Right?

Early on, there are some wink-wink references to religion, like this:

Home to the Dollywood amusement park, a tourist destination that draws more visitors than Graceland, Pigeon Forge has become a pilgrimage site for those who worship at the Church of Dolly.

Then there’s this, concerning the new “Dolly Parton’s Heartstrings” series on Netflix, short tear-jerker films that “all are quintessential Dolly — offering homespun entertainment with a little something for everyone. Religion, dogs, weddings, gun-toting cowgirls: It’s all here.”

But the heart of this story is the following summary statement about the paradoxes at the heart of Parton’s Cinderella career:

The allure of her rags-to-riches biography is on full display at Dollywood, where you can visit a replica of the modest home where Parton grew up, pray in a chapel named after the man who delivered her and watch a startlingly life-like hologram of Parton at the Dolly Parton Museum, in between shopping for Parton-themed tea towels, fanny packs and cast-iron skillets. While there’s no alcohol on the premises, the down-home aura is intoxicating, as is the seemingly genuine niceness of the people who work here. …

Arriving just before Thanksgiving, “Heartstrings” is aimed squarely at families, many of whom may be desperate to avoid political spats over leftover turkey. Few people are better-suited to provide such a distraction than Parton, a figure beloved in equal measure by drag queens and devout Christians.

Like I said, there are two maps that a journalist could use to explore that divide — one political and the other essentially religious and cultural.

Want to guess which option the Times team selected?

Though many of her songs touch on female empowerment and give voice to working people — to the extent that Democratic presidential contender Elizabeth Warren uses “9 to 5” as her walk-up song at campaign rallies — Parton exists outside the partisan fray. (At the 2017 Emmy Awards, she presented with her “9 to 5” costars Lily Tomlin and Jane Fonda, who made barbed comments clearly aimed at Trump; Parton noticeably stayed out of it.)

“She is deeply political in her music but not ever going to touch it,” says Jad Abumrad, host of “Dolly Parton’s America,” who was inspired to make the podcast at a 2016 Parton concert — “one of the few spaces that cuts across the divisions.”

“She has a kind of radical openness and inclusivity that is special at this moment,” he adds.

Now, is Abumrad talking about America as revealed at ballot boxes, alone?

It would appear so, based on the themes from the Times interview with Parton that ended up in print:

“I have my own thoughts, my own opinions, of course,” Parton says, “but I don’t believe that I should offend people that don’t have that same opinion by voicing my own opinion. I’m an entertainer; I can live it, I can write about it, I can joke, lift people up in my own way. But I don’t see no reason for me to get involved in political fights.”

She continues: “Half my people are Republicans, half of them are Democrats, and I always joke that I’m just a ‘hypocrat’ — and in a way I kind of am. ... I know we can’t ever all get along. But we could get along a little better if we tried a little harder.”

So that’s that. Once again, politics is real and religion is — not so real.

This Los Angeles Times piece was a real disappointment and a missed opportunity to deal with Parton’s head and her heart (and soul) at the same time.