JOHN GOTTI, the New York City mobster who died last week of throat cancer, spent the last 10 years of his life in prison - far from the city lights and media glare on which he thrived.

The "Dapper Don" will be interred in a Catholic cemetery along with such other infamous gangsters as Charles "Lucky" Luciano. But under its "scandal" precept for those who lived outside its teachings, the church has denied him a Mass of Christian Burial.

"Scandal" is an understatement. Mr. Gotti, who took over one of the city's leading crime families in the 1980s, was a cold-blooded killer, responsible for an unknown number of murders. His immediate predecessor was whacked on a crowded city street as Mr. Gotti sat and watched behind darkened limo windows. A neighbor who caused the death of Mr. Gotti's 12-year-old son in a car accident endured months of threats until his body was seen being shoved into a van by men in suits.

For years, he was the "Teflon Don," flamboyantly dodging efforts to put him behind bars - with the help of terrorized witnesses and bribed jurors. He showed up in court in Brioni suits, an impeccable pompadour and his trademark smirk, waving to crowds of cheering New Yorkers.

There's no question that he captured a slice of the popular imagination - that, for some, he was a folk hero. His portrait, by no less than Andy Warhol, appeared on the cover of Time magazine. The Internet auctioneer eBay is now doing a lively trade in Gotti memorabilia. One of New York's top tabloids, which revel in such things, noted this week that he was this nation's first TV godfather.

In that role, Mr. Gotti fell in step with a long line of outlaws whose legends have been embraced by many Americans - among them Jesse James, John Dillinger and, of course, Al Capone. Is this part of the dark side of American individualism?

Certainly with the so-called Mafia - which was rooted in the massive wave of immigration to this country in the first part of the 20th century - its popular appeal has something to do with newcomers' sense of powerlessness in the face of established society and with a kind of joy at knowing that one man, one family, is able to make its own rules, however violently so. It's telling that among the many tributes dropped by mourners at the door of Mr. Gotti's headquarters in New York have been many U.S. flags.

If nothing else, he unapologetically played this role to the hilt. He is said to have brooked no disrespect. There are accounts of small kindnesses to widows and small children. He annually threw a legendary July 4 bash for his neighborhood. In the words of one of his neighbors, he kept that area "safe," though one has to ask for whom. He cast himself as a simple plumbing company employee who ruled nothing but his wife and children - all the while leading a brutal machine making hundreds of millions of dollars, often from others' misery.

But truth be told, Mr. Gotti was more accomplished at playing the gangster role than being a gangster. While his more sophisticated brethren dodged the limelight, he sought it out, bringing inordinate attention from authorities who made putting him away their cause. He even made himself available to trusted reporters.

Long after truly clever criminals, both in the mob and out, realized the really big money is from such white-collar crime as stock fraud, Mr. Gotti was still bludgeoning his way to profits. Even as he was brought down a decade ago, he already was a man out of step with his times - just another man undone by his own thirst for the bright light of fame.