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Giants of Jazz, 1957.
Studs’ first book sprung directly out of his private passion for jazz, which became a public passion as a DJ. Here you’ll find Studs talking with all of the big names including John Coltrane, Billie Holiday, Charlie Parker and Duke Ellington.
Division Street: America, 1965.
It’s hard to believe that this was Studs’s first foray into what we now know as his style of oral history. Trying to get a picture of the various ethnicities in Chicago, and America, Studs interviewed folks all along the 1200 mark. A must-read for every Chicagoan.
Hard Times, 1970.
Established as our nation’s premier oral historian, Studs traveled all over the country, interviewing those who, like him, had lived through The Great Depression. Here, Studs really started to perfect his technique of letting his specific theme lead in myriad directions.
Working, 1972.
Studs would have to wait until his later book, The Good War, to win a Pulitzer, but to our mind, this should have nabbed him his first. As comprehensive and empathic a look at American life as you’re going to find, Working, because it’s taught in so many schools, is often how people get hooked on Studs.
Talking to Myself: A Memoir of My Times, 1977.
His first go at a “memoir,” Talking to Myself has none of the icky ooze of confession that has come to define the genre of late. Instead, Studs still seems to tell his story by way of telling other people’s stories. He just can’t help himself.
American Dreams: Lost and Found, 1980.
Just as the title promises, Studs interviews a mind-blowing variety of Americans about their aspirations, from KKK members to The Governator. As Margaret Atwood once said, “Here is the raw material for one thousand novels.”
The Good War, 1984.
The one that finally earned Studs his Pulitzer, “The Good War” chronicled WWII in a way far more epic and intimate than, say, The Greatest Generation.
Chicago, 1985.
Studs gives his personal history of his hometown here; we consider it his homage to Nelson Algren’s classic Chicago: City on the Make. Our favorite anecdote in the book? When Studs loses it on a Tribune newspaper box, kicking it after it ate four of his quarters, and a homeless woman comes along and smashes the change receptacle, sending all of the coins onto the sidewalk. Said Studs: “My kind of town, Uptown is.”
The Great Divide, 1988.
The ’80s were harsh enough to force Studs to do another book on the American Dream, profiling the growing economic inequality in Americans’ own words. The New York Times was critical, saying Studs seemed to think The Great Depression was still going on. Well...
Race: What Blacks and Whites Think and Feel About the American Obsession, 1992.
Arguably the most controversial topic for Studs to tackle, Race, with so much emotion bursting forth from the interviewees, could also be his heaviest book.
Coming of Age, 1995.
Studs gets cheeky with the title to this one: All of his interview subjects are older than 70 and some hit heights even Studs hasn’t made it to yet, 99.
My American Century, 1997.
A collection of Studs’ interviews from various books and projects in the past, last year this was re-packaged in a pretty new paperback version, The Studs Terkel Reader. It’s sort of an omnibus, and a good introduction to his work.
The Spectator: Talk About Movies and Plays With Those Who Make Them, 1999.
Only someone with Studs’ breadth of experience could put out a book containing interviews with Arthur Miller, Tennessee Williams, Buster Keaton and Zero Mostel. It’s out in a new paperback version, called The Studs Terkel Interviews: Film and Theater.
Will the Circle be Unbroken?, 2001.
One of the most touching and personal of Studs’s oral histories, Circle confronts death head-on. As he says in his intro, he was surprised by how willingly and passionately people spoke with him about death. Our favorite part? The idea for the book came from Gore Vidal.
Hope Dies Last, 2004.
What may seem like the vaguest of themes for Studs, this one actually reads more like the ultimate expression of the central theme to all of his work. Like Studs, this book, which has its subjects discussing their secret hopes and dreams, is indefatigably optimistic.
And They All Sang, 2006.
Though Studs is best known as the celebrant of the uncelebrated, he spent a fair amount of his life talking with the 20th century’s most important musicians, including Bob Dylan, Ravi Shankar, Leonard Bernstein and Studs’ personal bard, Big Bill Broonzy.
Touch and Go, 2007.
At 95, Studs decided to publish a memoir. Why not? The circuitous chronology of this book flows from Studs’ own storytelling style—the man can pull together decades with just a few anecdotes.
P.S., 2008.
Why not publish another book at 96? Out in November, P.S. collects his favorite interviews, broadcasts and writings, including an amazing conversation with novelist James Baldwin. It’s good enough to leave us wondering what Studs will do at 97.