Of course you can actually be friends with a schizophrenic! But as time passed, Ayers became less of a curiosity and more of a friend. Lopez seems far too surprised by this, despite being a reporter in a culture saturated with references to mental illness. After various problems and disappointments, Lopez moves from concerned exploiter to patronising helper and on to an understanding and realistic friend. Another old concept that the author spends too much time thinking about is what it means to be crazy, and whether it makes you less human and so to be treated differently. This book is about how a busy, job-endangered reporter takes the time to get to know a crazy bum named Nathaniel, and writes widely-read stories about helping him and all the crazy homeless.
The second third of the book is about Lopez. Like its muckraking journalist guide, it exploits its subjects for its own purposes. Without acknowledging that a person might want to sleep outside, take risks, just have fun practicing his gifts, and not rely on reason or connect to reality.
Polished to a high gleam by Mr. This book is about how a busy, job-endangered reporter takes the time to get to know a crazy bum named Nathaniel, and writes widely-read stories about helping him and all the crazy homeless. Ayers ended up on the streets, where he pushed a shopping cart filled with trash and bedded down next to rats. Neither did his passion for classical music. Of course, it diminishes the more interesting story about Nathaniel's world, which would have made a good long article or short story in Harper's. The trouble is that Lopez is a journalist, and has been for decades.
It works hard to make you feel good, as is to be expected, even as it maintains a strong sense of moral indignation that comes close to an assertion of real politics. The trouble is that Lopez is a journalist, and has been for decades. This book is about how a busy, job-endangered reporter takes the time to get to know a crazy bum named Nathaniel, and writes widely-read stories about helping him and all the crazy homeless. Lopez, in any case, moves to the head of his classy career. Foxx portrays Ayers, who is considered a cello prodigy, and Downey portrays Lopez, the soloist book essay typer This is a threepage book report about the Soloist by Steve Lopez.
As papers shutter across the country, The Soloist and State of Play are a taste of pre-nostalgia for the newspaperman, a cinematic type that, like cowboys and gangsters before it, seems to be vanishing, column-inch by column-inch, from the workaday world. On a pit stop later, I learned from a brief eye-to-eye with him in the foyer of the L. And we've seen tons of examples in recent TV, of characters who are overeducated bums. Like so much of life there is a happy ending, to be sure, but not as happy an ending as we may have liked. Both characters even drive the same battered Saab!
He wallows in their pain, as if the experience will be somehow purifying, but what he accomplishes feels more akin to simple voyeurism. It is scary, though, when you get a chance to see how a schizophrenic thinks, and see how similar it is to yourself. Ayers, an estimated 8, to 11, were living in a block skid row downtown, not far from the Los Angeles Times building, City Hall and the Walt Disney Concert Hall, the Frank Gehry-designed music center that sits on a hill like an enormous silvery flower far from the reach of the Nathaniel Ayerses of this world. When Lopez delivers the instrument, and hears the magic Ayers can conjure from it, a bond is formed. And we see how Lopez seems to realize by the end that he was pushing his view on someone who might or might not accept it. Oh, and did you know that crazy people are people too?