Esquire - An Elegy for Paul Newman

Paul Newman passed away this weekend after a long battle with cancer. For many men, Newman was an archetypal figure of masculinity. Esquire recognizes this in their Elegy for Paul Newman.

An Elegy for Paul Newman

Paul Newman wasn't just some Hollywood actor. He was a guy who'd rather ride alone at 100 miles an hour and let someone else take his victory lap for him. He was a great man. He will be missed.

By Scott Raab

Tom Wargacki/WireImage.com

I was still hooked on cigarettes when I profiled Paul Newman for Esquire at the end of 1999, and feeling none too proud of it.

"I'll tell ya how to quit," he tells me as we walk up Fifth Avenue. "Set a date for yourself -- a month, five weeks, whatever it is. Take two 20-minute periods out of your day, one after you get up and one right before the cocktail hour.

"Take that 20 minutes and in a relaxed state, fantasize. Really absorb yourself into it. It could be a favorite meal, or a tennis game with somebody you hate, or sex -- the taste, the taste of sex. After 20 minutes, you unrelax yourself and go about your business. You have such a positive feeling -- everything in your head and your taste and your enjoyment -- that when you get to quitting time, you're not giving up anything. You've gotten all these experiences. If you really honor this -- the variety of experiences you can set up for yourself, athletic, meals, sex -- every bit of feedback you get is gonna be positive."

Then Newman starts chuckling.

"Christ, by quitting day, if someone said, 'Did you quit smoking?' I'd say, 'No, but I beat Redford to the net -- every time.'"

Paul Newman was the smartest and most thoughtful celebrity I've ever interviewed at length, which also made him the most difficult. He had no "act," no regard for self-analysis, and no problem enduring long silences. When I'd visit him at home in New York City or Connecticut, he was gracious, relaxed, and quiet. When I flew down to Daytona to see him drive a racecar at the age of 75, he was cranky, tense, and quiet. And when I'd try to prod or spark him into going deeper into a subject he didn't want to talk about -- family, movies, philanthropy, you name it: Newman's utter distaste for Hollywood mythmaking was mythic -- he'd tell me, "I'm not sure I have anything to say that hasn't already been said."

But when I asked him what he was reading -- if you ever want to hear an actor bullshit, ask him what he's reading -- Newman mentioned a then-new E.L. Doctorow novel he had read in galleys, and a Robert Stone novel, and a short fiction collection by Chris Offutt -- plus a Roger Rosenblatt book on consumerism. Then he unclasped an old briefcase at his feet -- this was at his home office in Westport -- and pulled out a book about quantum physics.

"I don't understand this stuff," he said, "but I really want to get through it just so I can have some concept."

No false notes, no forced smiles, no phony gestures: Newman's work and life -- he was involved in politics for decades; he became a professional racecar driver in his 50s; he stayed married to the same woman for more than half a century; and, yeah, he was a great movie star, and a hell of a good actor, too -- are testament to a life of integrity and tough grace.

Consider, beyond all that, the engine of charity he built: Newman's Own, which has donated more than two hundred million dollars to help sick kids. Nothing made Newman more impatient than having public goodness thrust upon him just for doing the right thing, unless it was talking about it.

"I don't ask any questions about it -- it's the act in itself that is the important thing, not seeking out the motivation for it. You're not doing anything special by putting money aside for those who need it. This is an essential component of being a human being."

Humans don't come any better than Paul Newman.

Tags: Esquire, An Elegy for Paul Newman, masculinity, life, death, great men