2020-7 The Soloist: A Lost Dream, an Unlikely Friendship, and the Redemptive Power of Music (2008) by Steve Lopez
Steve Lopez started writing about a Nathaniel Ayers in a series of LA Times column. Nathaniel was homeless, playing a violin that only had two strings – but the music drew Steve to Nathaniel and this now a famous story. The column garnered attention – enough for the story of their friendship to first become a book, and then a movie.
What I appreciated about the book is the subtlety, the shades of grays, the difficulties and the complexity of dealing with homelessness and mental health issues as a subject, and in relationships – that Lopez insists on in this book. Lopez is honest about the annoyance that he sometimes feels with Ayers’ illogical behaviors that cannot be reasoned with, and that inconveniences him. He also remains ambivalent about how to help him, and if his attempts are really helpful.
The scene that I found most compelling was in Chap. 24. Lopez is at a public event hosted at Midnight Mission, a famous homeless shelter on Skid Row. Government dignitaries lay out their plans of ending homeless in front of a “caravan of TV news trucks,” but Lopez is skeptical about how it may truly help to the general homeless population, and people like Ayers, without addressing the root causes of the homelessness, like poverty, affordable healthcare and housing, etc. etc. But attendees shake his hands and thank him because LA Times covering the homeless issues in stories like Ayers’ have helped get the attention on the issue in the first place. Then, embodying Lopez’s discomfort with the whole show, an attendee corners Lopez and asks “How much.” I quote from the book here: “How much money am I making for exploiting Skid Row? he continues. How much for exploiting Nathaniel?” It almost pushes Lopez over the edge with anger. “I am trembling now, my jowls quivering as I tap his shoulder with a finger. All that stops me from losing it and doing something really stupid is the thought of what a story it would make if I’m hauled away a twitching mess, perhaps in a straitjacket, from a meeting about the horrors of Skid Row.” Then, he reflects. “Everything I’ve written about Nathaniel is extremely personal, and yet I’ve shared it with thousands of readers. Have I exploited him? Is it possible for me to keep writing about him without doing so?” Then he reasons with himself. “I’m telling the story of his courage, his challenge and his humanity, and I believe there’s a benefit to him, to me and to the public.”
This resonated with me deeply. I appreciated his courage in sharing himself honestly here.
Everything I don’t like about the book may be reflected on Lopez’s choice of the word, “Redemptive” in the title. And unfortunately, the movie emphasized what I don’t like about the word choice by ignoring so much of the subtlety and honesty I admired.
The movie recovered only a half of its production cost, and received a lukewarm review. It follows a “White Savior Narrative” so cleanly in the way book tries so hard to avoid it. That’s the danger of sharing, and commercial success, I guess. The pressure to conform to the already accepted perspectives, formulas of narratives, for a price tag. I do wonder how much Lopez made at the end, and what the publicity did for Skid Row, and for Nathaniel Ayers.