An ‘indelible’ friendship with Doctorow
How the musical Ragtime sparked lifelong bond between a literary lion and Canadian producer Garth Drabinsky
When American novelist Edgar (E.L.) Doctorow died on Tuesday, the world lost a literary lion and Toronto impresario Garth Drabinsky lost a dear friend.
The duo met in the early 1990s, when Drabinsky, a producer, secured the rights to bring Doctorow’s Ragtime to life on the Broadway stage.
Doctorow was a multi award-winning author cele- brated for capturing bygone eras by weaving fact into fiction and mingling make-believe characters with historical figures. He is widely considered one of the most influential American novelists of the past half-century.
Doctorow and Drabinsky became close friends following the debut of the Ragtime musical and the producer tells the Star he was one of the few people to read unpublished proofs of Doctorow’s new novels. Drabinsky says there were days he had to pinch himself to be convinced of the reality that “this giant living literary figure” was Edgar, his friend.
Sitting in his eighth-floor office on St. Clair Ave. W., with photos of celebrities and politicians adorning the walls, Drabinsky points out his most prized frame: a handwritten letter Doctorow gave him on Dec. 15, 1996: the date of the world premiere of Ragtime in Toronto.
In light-brown ink, Doctorow wrote: “It is possible you’ve produced more than a hit show — that with all your incredibly gifted writers, composers, directors, designers, singers, dancers and musicians working in concert, something more has been created than good theatre, as wonderful as that is.”
It’s penned on letterhead from 170 Broadview Ave., New Rochelle, N.Y. — Doctorow’s home address, immortalized in the first sentence of Ragtime — and it ends with “love Edgar.”
Drabinsky says he had a “profound sense of respect” for Doctorow from the moment they met. He recalls his friend with fondness; a shy, private, strong and gutsy man with an “elfish smile.”
“He was never in your face,” Drabinsky says, “but here’s the thing: whenever he wrote a note or whenever he opened his mouth to comment, it was incisive, it was insightful and you wanted to hear what he had to say.”
After a pause, Drabinsky adds: “And, that doesn’t happen very often.”
Doctorow died in Manhattan, aged 84, following complications from lung cancer.
His death was reported worldwide, with the New York Times labelling him a “time traveller who stirred past into fiction,” the Washington Post calling him a “conjuror of oldtime gangsters and Ragtime stars” and the Guardian describing him as one of the most celebrated American novelists.
On Twitter, President Barack Obama wrote: “E.L. Doctorow was one of America’s greatest novelists. His books taught me much, and he will be missed.”
The last time Drabinsky spoke to Doctorow was last Thursday, just four days before his death.
The pair discussed the miracle of cancer treatment and its ability to prolong life.
“Based on that conversation, I had no idea of the imminent state of his passing,” Drabinsky says.
“His spirits were optimistic. He was always an incredibly positive man; realistic but optimistic.”
There wasn’t anything particularly significant about their last conversation, Drabinsky says, but he recalls Doctorow ending it with his trademark sign-off: “God bless.”
“I’ve lost many close friends in the creative community over the years, but the relationship I had with Edgar Doctorow was an indelible one,” Drabinsky says.
“We have lost someone who still had the genius capacity to take us
"Whenever he opened his mouth to comment, it was incisive, it was insightful and you wanted to hear what he had to say." GARTH DRABINSKY ON THE LATE NOVELIST EDGAR DOCTOROW
further in his inspired thoughts.”
Drabinsky leans back in his chair, clasps his hands together and sighs before saying: “Let me tell you the story of Ragtime, because this is a wonderful story.”
It starts in the Caribbean in late 1992, Drabinsky says, when he first discovered that Ragtime, the novel that made Doctorow famous, had the potential to become a major musical.
“You could just imagine the wording coming to life,” Drabinsky says.
Four years earlier Ragtime had been made into a film and Drabinsky says he was desperate to acquire the rights to take it to Broadway.
He contacted Doctorow’s agent and the trio met for a luncheon at the Russian Tea Room in New York.
“This was extraordinary. I mean, I was about to meet, for the first time, one of the great authors of the 21st century,” Drabinsky says, then quickly corrects himself: “Maybe, the greatest American author of the 21st century.”
He recalls the meeting in vivid detail. How Doctorow sat down at the table and the first thing he said was: “What did you think of the movie?”
“This was a critical point in the negotiation. Did I tell him what I really thought or try to forge my way around the question? I decided to be very direct and honest and said simply that I hated the movie.”
Doctorow asked why. “Not knowing if he was passionate or caring about the film, I said the director had missed the entire point of his novel. And he just said: ‘Go on,’ ” Drabinsky says, laughing.
He then outlines the argument he made more than two decades ago that won him the rights to the novel: Ragtime was an equilateral triangle made up of the three different worlds of an African American musician, a white upper class family and a Jewish immigrant. The film broke the equilateral triangle by turning the musician, Coalhouse Walker, into the protagonist, therefore destroying the novel’s tension, humour and overwhelming emotion. “I stopped my answer and he looked at me for a second and said: ‘You have the rights.’ And that was it,” Drabinsky says, shaking his head with a smile.
During the Ragtime production process, Doctorow and his wife, Helen, flew to Toronto about a dozen times to attend workshops, readings and rehearsals.
The author would sit quietly in the back of the room and send handwritten notes with suggested changes to the director or Drabinsky.
“He never dictated anything, but you just wanted to please Edgar because he was such a special human being. It was like satisfying the professor, because, for me, he was the professor,” Drabinsky says.
“I loved that man.”