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The analysis of "The Client" by John Grisham
the life is seen through the eyes of the child, Mark Sway, everything is experienced by him. John Grisham ultimately grounds his story in detailed inside knowledge of law and corruption and appears as an absolute master of the chase story in this thriller. While reading the book the reader all the time feels as if the writer himself has been there, as if it is his life and experience. The author speaks right to the readers heart, he wants to inspire great feelings, John Grisham is a terrific writer - avoiding any sermonising, he manages to ascertain that law is like spider’s web; it will catch, it is true, the weak and poor, but would be torn in pieces by the rich and powerful, thus the legal system is similar to an astronomer looking at the rules of honour like at the stars - from a very great distance.
I would like to start talking about John Grisham’s novel “The Street Lawyer” with the words of one reader, Vanessa E.: “Before a trip to California, my mom suggested I bring a book. Why would I want to read when I didn’t have to? An hour into the flight I got out my CD player and found a book my mom had snuck in - “The Street Lawyer”. I decided to read a page or two to see what it was like. I couldn’t put it down. My friend Kim even yelled at me for reading so much during vacation ”.
“The Street Lawyer” is a marvellous social and legal thriller. Here John Grisham dives deep into the world of the homeless. The action of the book takes place in nowadays Washington, where lives and works the main character of the novel - Michael Brock, a thirty two-year-old affluent lawyer of a premier law firm “Drake & Sweeney”. He is a practising anti-trust lawyer, on the fast track to partnership and a salary of million dollars per year. He has a dream of raking in a million-plus a year. Nothing and nobody can stop him - neither 90 hours workweeks nor unsuccessful marriage. But…it is so until Michael Brock and eight other lawyers are held hostage in a boardroom by a homeless man:
“The man with the rubber boots stepped into the elevator behind me, but I didn’t see him at first. I smelled him though - the pungent odour of smoke and cheap wine and life on the street without soap.(…)When I finally glanced over I saw the boots, black and dirty and much too large. A frayed and tattered trench coat fell to his knees. Under it, layers of foul clothing bunched around his midsection, so that he appeared stocky, almost fat. But it wasn’t from being well fed; in the wintertime in D.C., the street people wear everything they own, or so it seems.
He was black and ageing - his beard and hair were half - grey and hadn’t been washed or cut in years.” (pg. 1).
With such an exposition John [next page]