THE ONTOLOGY OF COMPASSION: HUMAN EXISTENCE, SOCIAL REALITY,THE ETHICS OF BEING, THE POETICS OF BECOMING,ANDTHE LITERARY PHILOSOPHY OF GOURAHARI DAS 

Tradition of writing stories and “Koraput and Other Stories”

-Panchami Manoo Ukil

The discovery of the first cave paintings 27000 years ago revealed that stories were the earliest mode of communication. Over the centuries, stories grew to become the most powerful technique of communication and motivation.

A skillful storyteller awakens the cinema of imagination.  One of the secrets of great storytelling is the ability to coax the listener’s memory and to make him relate. Stories evoke childhood memories and transport the listener into a world of limitless possibilities. Life-lessons, traditions, values, and beliefs were handed down from one generation to another through the medium of stories. Stories connect people and communities. They encourage information retention and broaden understanding of the wider world.

All of us are living stories. Our lives are brimming with events that can be woven into the most wonderful narratives. But as we go about our daily existence, most of us remain oblivious to this fact. Those who are able to reconstruct their life events interestingly into words, become storytellers. And they are the ones who actually “live” their lives amidst the mundaneness of mere “existence” because they savour their living moments enough to be able to internalize them, synergise their experiences with a sense of imagination, and then share it with an audience of readers.

I believe that our minds and personalities are the products of the stories that we heard during our impressionable years. I and my siblings were fortunate to have grown up with a liberal dose of stories – not one meal or bedtime went by when we did not hear stories from my mother. Our senior household helps who were more of indulgent parents to us, also regaled us with stories. One of them was a voracious reader and film buff. We were hooked to the mythological stories that he told and retold from Ramayana, Mahabharata, Bhagwat, and much more. As a young girl, my obsession was the story of Taapoi. A simple story like that permanently etched a lot into my young psyche, about our brave seafaring ancestors, love for siblings and animals, and the presence of a higher force that dispenses natural justice.

Research has proved that listening to stories plays a vital role in early brain development of children. Consistent exposure to stories in the first five years shapes the child’s oral skills including vocabulary, listening skills, cognitive skills and socio-emotional skills. Today a majority of children are glued to screens. Sadly, while they progress towards being tech-savvy, what they lose in the process is the original skill and depth of communication. Bit by bit they are losing their human-ness, the ability to feel at a deeper level. It has been consistently observed that parents who engage their young children with story-telling and then graduate them into story-reading mode, raise far more sensitive, intelligent, and communicative adults than those who leave their children to be reared by television and I pads. As someone who works closely with school children, I’m often very disappointed to see children of today severely lacking in two dimensions – reading books and experiencing the outdoors. I’m sure all of us here will agree that story-telling and story-reading needs to be more intensively woven into the curriculum so that parents have no other choice but to be involved. This is the only way to ensure that the love for reading stories is fostered in each and every child.

In the backdrop of this let us talk about “Koraput and other Stories” by eminent writer Dr. Gourahari Das. When I read the script, I was struck by the simple structure of the narratives. I remember my father introducing us to short stories of O. Henry when we were 9 or 10.  Simple yet compelling, O.Henry and R.K. Narayan remain the most favourite short story tellers to date. As I read through the fifteen stories in “Koraput and other Stories”, I couldn’t help going back to the stories of O. Henry and R.K.Narayan. Powerful, efficient, gripping and a lot of energy, just like short stories should be. Amidst the events and emotions, a thread of poignancy meanders, rendering a sense of connectedness. Almost all the protagonists seemed familiar. Most of the situations and backdrops against which the stories are set are contemporary. So after reading a story, I actually attempted to recollect and relate them to my personal landscape. At least five of the characters were instant recalls, some others I felt I had heard about and they lurked somewhere in the inner recesses of my consciousness.

The book has an intriguing opening in the author’s dedication where one feels a touch of R.K. Narayan in the sense of the quaint and the imagined. The title story “Koraput”, is  a tale of disillusionment of a young woman who discovers the frailties of her government officer fiancée. It takes a tryst with naxalites for her to know that the man she loves has a dark and corrupt side to his character. The pertinent storyline is laced with some interesting snippets on the side, like a little detail on the number 22 as well as vivid descriptions of the scenic beauty of Koraput. The story of Panu, the village goon, is a tale of love and betrayal and tells us that even the seemingly tough can fall prey to womanly snares. Two extremely believable and poignant stories are those of the retired headmaster Narottam and freedom fighter Banamali. Burning contemporary issues are themes for stories like “Drifting Clouds”, “Vasudev” and others.

What defines this book of short stories is that characters and relationships are intently observed. Descriptions of ambience, households and family ties, are evocative of real places, people, time periods and equations in spite of the author’s disclaimer that it’s entirely a work of fiction. The deep sensitivity of the author to his surroundings and to the complexities of human behaviour in an increasingly fragmented milieu comes across as the highpoint of this collection. I am always in awe of those writers who have the gift of effectively bypassing verbosity and yet manage to retain content, style and substance in a form as precise as a short story.  This collection of stories is a fitting example of that precision. The English translation by Saroj Mishra and Gopa Nayak retains the simple narrative style and other nuances making this book a start-to-finish read for story addicts, both children and adults.

Mrs Panchami Manoo Ukil is an eminent birdwatcher and wildlife enthusiasist. She is the Director of Wisdom Tree Schools in Bhubaneswar.

Contact:

12/A Forest Park

Bhubaneswar 751009

Mob: 9439300000

Panchami14@gmail.com

୯୨ତମ ‘ସଂସ୍କୃତି ଚର୍ଚ୍ଚା’ – ଓଡ଼ିଶା ସଂସ୍କୃତି: ପ୍ରେମ ଓ କରୁଣା | ଡକ୍ଟର ଗୌରହରି ଦାସ | Dr. Gourahari Das

ଓଡ଼ିଶା ରାଜ୍ୟ ଅଭିଲେଖାଗାର ପରିସରରେ ଆୟୋଜିତ ହୋଇଥିଲା ୯୨ତମ ‘ସଂସ୍କୃତି ଚର୍ଚ୍ଚା’ । ଏହି ଅବସରରେ ବିଶିଷ୍ଟ ଲେଖକ ତଥା ସ୍ତମ୍ବକାର ଡକ୍ଟର ଗୌରହରି ଦାସ ‘ଓଡ଼ିଶା ସଂସ୍କୃତି: ପ୍ରେମ ଓ କରୁଣା’ ବିଷୟରେ ନିଜର ବକ୍ତବ୍ୟ ରଖିଥିଲେ। ଓଡ଼ିଶା ସରକାରଙ୍କ ଓଡ଼ିଆ ଭାଷା, ସାହିତ୍ୟ ଓ ସଂସ୍କୃତି ବିଭାଗ ପକ୍ଷରୁ ଆୟୋଜିତ ଏହି କାର୍ଯ୍ୟକ୍ରମରେ ବହୁ ବିଶିଷ୍ଟ ବ୍ୟକ୍ତି ଯୋଗ ଦେଇଥିଲେ।

“This is a tribute to the legacy of Studs”

A master of oral history, Terkel published a number of as-told-to books, including, in 1974, “Working: People Talk About What They Do All Day and How They Feel About What They Do,” the book that inspired the new exhibit. “Working” featured interviews with more than a hundred workers from all walks of life. The book, Terkel writes in the introduction, is about the search “for daily meaning as well as daily bread, for recognition as well as cash, for astonishment rather than torpor; in short, for a sort of life, rather than a Monday through Friday sort of dying.”

It became a best-seller—and, a few years later, a musical—thanks, in large part, to the intimacy and depth Terkel elicited from people who are not usually the subject of books.

One of those people, Gary Bryner, is in the new exhibit, too. “I picked Studs up at the Youngstown airport,” Bryner told me, recounting the time Terkel spent with him for the book. “He didn’t even have a hotel reservation. He said he just wanted to stay in a mom-and-pop place and all he needed was a phone.” This was 1972, and Bryner was president of U.A.W. Local 1112 at the Lordstown, Ohio, General Motors plant, where a twenty-two-day strike had captured national attention.

“I’d been interviewed by every major magazine and newspaper. I was on ‘60 Minutes.’ But Studs was different”

Terkel followed Bryner, who’s now in his seventies, for two days. “He had a glint in his eye. He wanted to know how this worked, how that worked. He couldn’t stop.

Saks sought a wide variety of subjects—some of them she knew of personally, and others she found through research. Roque Sanchez, a twenty-one-year-old custodian featured in the new exhibit, said he had never heard of Terkel before Saks contacted him. A formerly undocumented immigrant from Mexico, Sanchez works at a downtown Chicago office building.

“It’s definitely not the worst job,” he said. “But I like working. It’s essential to make something with my life.” Ava St. Claire, who is in her late twenties, didn’t know Terkel’s work before, either. St. Claire works as an escort in Orlando. “I love my job. It’s the best I’ve ever had,” she said. “I can’t imagine doing anything else.”

Saks is a lifelong Chicagoan and the president and artistic director of Project&, a Chicago-based arts organization. “I really wanted to do something on economic inequality,” she explained, as she introduced a panel discussion earlier that night, in the library’s Cindy Pritzker Auditorium. “It’s one of the greatest conflicts of our time.” Once she had decided to focus on the subject, she instinctively turned to Terkel. “My dad and Studs were friends,” she told me.

“As a kid, I’d sit in the back seat as they drove around the city. My dad smoking his pipe and Studs his cigar. They were like a pair from Jewish central casting”

Saks’s intention with “Working in America” is not to mimic Terkel’s masterpiece, she said, but to continue the conversations he started. “Everyone has a relationship with work,” she added. “Even those who don’t have a job.”

The exhibit, which will run until January 31st, is free and open to the public, and it includes two additional components: a weeklong radio series that kicks off on September 25th, on NPR’s “Weekend Edition,” and a Web site where people can upload photos and share their own stories.

Saks hopes that by the end of January she’ll have raised enough money from private foundations and individual donors to take “Working in America” to libraries throughout the country. Bryner, meanwhile, told me that he was pleased by how things had turned out, and encouraged by the attention. “I thought it was interesting people still cared,” he said.

“This is a tribute to the legacy of Studs”

A master of oral history, Terkel published a number of as-told-to books, including, in 1974, “Working: People Talk About What They Do All Day and How They Feel About What They Do,” the book that inspired the new exhibit. “Working” featured interviews with more than a hundred workers from all walks of life. The book, Terkel writes in the introduction, is about the search “for daily meaning as well as daily bread, for recognition as well as cash, for astonishment rather than torpor; in short, for a sort of life, rather than a Monday through Friday sort of dying.”

It became a best-seller—and, a few years later, a musical—thanks, in large part, to the intimacy and depth Terkel elicited from people who are not usually the subject of books.

One of those people, Gary Bryner, is in the new exhibit, too. “I picked Studs up at the Youngstown airport,” Bryner told me, recounting the time Terkel spent with him for the book. “He didn’t even have a hotel reservation. He said he just wanted to stay in a mom-and-pop place and all he needed was a phone.” This was 1972, and Bryner was president of U.A.W. Local 1112 at the Lordstown, Ohio, General Motors plant, where a twenty-two-day strike had captured national attention.

“I’d been interviewed by every major magazine and newspaper. I was on ‘60 Minutes.’ But Studs was different”

Terkel followed Bryner, who’s now in his seventies, for two days. “He had a glint in his eye. He wanted to know how this worked, how that worked. He couldn’t stop.

Saks sought a wide variety of subjects—some of them she knew of personally, and others she found through research. Roque Sanchez, a twenty-one-year-old custodian featured in the new exhibit, said he had never heard of Terkel before Saks contacted him. A formerly undocumented immigrant from Mexico, Sanchez works at a downtown Chicago office building.

“It’s definitely not the worst job,” he said. “But I like working. It’s essential to make something with my life.” Ava St. Claire, who is in her late twenties, didn’t know Terkel’s work before, either. St. Claire works as an escort in Orlando. “I love my job. It’s the best I’ve ever had,” she said. “I can’t imagine doing anything else.”

Saks is a lifelong Chicagoan and the president and artistic director of Project&, a Chicago-based arts organization. “I really wanted to do something on economic inequality,” she explained, as she introduced a panel discussion earlier that night, in the library’s Cindy Pritzker Auditorium. “It’s one of the greatest conflicts of our time.” Once she had decided to focus on the subject, she instinctively turned to Terkel. “My dad and Studs were friends,” she told me.

“As a kid, I’d sit in the back seat as they drove around the city. My dad smoking his pipe and Studs his cigar. They were like a pair from Jewish central casting”

Saks’s intention with “Working in America” is not to mimic Terkel’s masterpiece, she said, but to continue the conversations he started. “Everyone has a relationship with work,” she added. “Even those who don’t have a job.”

The exhibit, which will run until January 31st, is free and open to the public, and it includes two additional components: a weeklong radio series that kicks off on September 25th, on NPR’s “Weekend Edition,” and a Web site where people can upload photos and share their own stories.

Saks hopes that by the end of January she’ll have raised enough money from private foundations and individual donors to take “Working in America” to libraries throughout the country. Bryner, meanwhile, told me that he was pleased by how things had turned out, and encouraged by the attention. “I thought it was interesting people still cared,” he said.

“This is a tribute to the legacy of Studs”

A master of oral history, Terkel published a number of as-told-to books, including, in 1974, “Working: People Talk About What They Do All Day and How They Feel About What They Do,” the book that inspired the new exhibit. “Working” featured interviews with more than a hundred workers from all walks of life. The book, Terkel writes in the introduction, is about the search “for daily meaning as well as daily bread, for recognition as well as cash, for astonishment rather than torpor; in short, for a sort of life, rather than a Monday through Friday sort of dying.”

It became a best-seller—and, a few years later, a musical—thanks, in large part, to the intimacy and depth Terkel elicited from people who are not usually the subject of books.

One of those people, Gary Bryner, is in the new exhibit, too. “I picked Studs up at the Youngstown airport,” Bryner told me, recounting the time Terkel spent with him for the book. “He didn’t even have a hotel reservation. He said he just wanted to stay in a mom-and-pop place and all he needed was a phone.” This was 1972, and Bryner was president of U.A.W. Local 1112 at the Lordstown, Ohio, General Motors plant, where a twenty-two-day strike had captured national attention.

“I’d been interviewed by every major magazine and newspaper. I was on ‘60 Minutes.’ But Studs was different”

Terkel followed Bryner, who’s now in his seventies, for two days. “He had a glint in his eye. He wanted to know how this worked, how that worked. He couldn’t stop.

Saks sought a wide variety of subjects—some of them she knew of personally, and others she found through research. Roque Sanchez, a twenty-one-year-old custodian featured in the new exhibit, said he had never heard of Terkel before Saks contacted him. A formerly undocumented immigrant from Mexico, Sanchez works at a downtown Chicago office building.

“It’s definitely not the worst job,” he said. “But I like working. It’s essential to make something with my life.” Ava St. Claire, who is in her late twenties, didn’t know Terkel’s work before, either. St. Claire works as an escort in Orlando. “I love my job. It’s the best I’ve ever had,” she said. “I can’t imagine doing anything else.”

Saks is a lifelong Chicagoan and the president and artistic director of Project&, a Chicago-based arts organization. “I really wanted to do something on economic inequality,” she explained, as she introduced a panel discussion earlier that night, in the library’s Cindy Pritzker Auditorium. “It’s one of the greatest conflicts of our time.” Once she had decided to focus on the subject, she instinctively turned to Terkel. “My dad and Studs were friends,” she told me.

“As a kid, I’d sit in the back seat as they drove around the city. My dad smoking his pipe and Studs his cigar. They were like a pair from Jewish central casting”

Saks’s intention with “Working in America” is not to mimic Terkel’s masterpiece, she said, but to continue the conversations he started. “Everyone has a relationship with work,” she added. “Even those who don’t have a job.”

The exhibit, which will run until January 31st, is free and open to the public, and it includes two additional components: a weeklong radio series that kicks off on September 25th, on NPR’s “Weekend Edition,” and a Web site where people can upload photos and share their own stories.

Saks hopes that by the end of January she’ll have raised enough money from private foundations and individual donors to take “Working in America” to libraries throughout the country. Bryner, meanwhile, told me that he was pleased by how things had turned out, and encouraged by the attention. “I thought it was interesting people still cared,” he said.

“This is a tribute to the legacy of Studs”

A master of oral history, Terkel published a number of as-told-to books, including, in 1974, “Working: People Talk About What They Do All Day and How They Feel About What They Do,” the book that inspired the new exhibit. “Working” featured interviews with more than a hundred workers from all walks of life. The book, Terkel writes in the introduction, is about the search “for daily meaning as well as daily bread, for recognition as well as cash, for astonishment rather than torpor; in short, for a sort of life, rather than a Monday through Friday sort of dying.”

It became a best-seller—and, a few years later, a musical—thanks, in large part, to the intimacy and depth Terkel elicited from people who are not usually the subject of books.

One of those people, Gary Bryner, is in the new exhibit, too. “I picked Studs up at the Youngstown airport,” Bryner told me, recounting the time Terkel spent with him for the book. “He didn’t even have a hotel reservation. He said he just wanted to stay in a mom-and-pop place and all he needed was a phone.” This was 1972, and Bryner was president of U.A.W. Local 1112 at the Lordstown, Ohio, General Motors plant, where a twenty-two-day strike had captured national attention.

“I’d been interviewed by every major magazine and newspaper. I was on ‘60 Minutes.’ But Studs was different”

Terkel followed Bryner, who’s now in his seventies, for two days. “He had a glint in his eye. He wanted to know how this worked, how that worked. He couldn’t stop.

Saks sought a wide variety of subjects—some of them she knew of personally, and others she found through research. Roque Sanchez, a twenty-one-year-old custodian featured in the new exhibit, said he had never heard of Terkel before Saks contacted him. A formerly undocumented immigrant from Mexico, Sanchez works at a downtown Chicago office building.

“It’s definitely not the worst job,” he said. “But I like working. It’s essential to make something with my life.” Ava St. Claire, who is in her late twenties, didn’t know Terkel’s work before, either. St. Claire works as an escort in Orlando. “I love my job. It’s the best I’ve ever had,” she said. “I can’t imagine doing anything else.”

Saks is a lifelong Chicagoan and the president and artistic director of Project&, a Chicago-based arts organization. “I really wanted to do something on economic inequality,” she explained, as she introduced a panel discussion earlier that night, in the library’s Cindy Pritzker Auditorium. “It’s one of the greatest conflicts of our time.” Once she had decided to focus on the subject, she instinctively turned to Terkel. “My dad and Studs were friends,” she told me.

“As a kid, I’d sit in the back seat as they drove around the city. My dad smoking his pipe and Studs his cigar. They were like a pair from Jewish central casting”

Saks’s intention with “Working in America” is not to mimic Terkel’s masterpiece, she said, but to continue the conversations he started. “Everyone has a relationship with work,” she added. “Even those who don’t have a job.”

The exhibit, which will run until January 31st, is free and open to the public, and it includes two additional components: a weeklong radio series that kicks off on September 25th, on NPR’s “Weekend Edition,” and a Web site where people can upload photos and share their own stories.

Saks hopes that by the end of January she’ll have raised enough money from private foundations and individual donors to take “Working in America” to libraries throughout the country. Bryner, meanwhile, told me that he was pleased by how things had turned out, and encouraged by the attention. “I thought it was interesting people still cared,” he said.

“This is a tribute to the legacy of Studs”

A master of oral history, Terkel published a number of as-told-to books, including, in 1974, “Working: People Talk About What They Do All Day and How They Feel About What They Do,” the book that inspired the new exhibit. “Working” featured interviews with more than a hundred workers from all walks of life. The book, Terkel writes in the introduction, is about the search “for daily meaning as well as daily bread, for recognition as well as cash, for astonishment rather than torpor; in short, for a sort of life, rather than a Monday through Friday sort of dying.”

It became a best-seller—and, a few years later, a musical—thanks, in large part, to the intimacy and depth Terkel elicited from people who are not usually the subject of books.

One of those people, Gary Bryner, is in the new exhibit, too. “I picked Studs up at the Youngstown airport,” Bryner told me, recounting the time Terkel spent with him for the book. “He didn’t even have a hotel reservation. He said he just wanted to stay in a mom-and-pop place and all he needed was a phone.” This was 1972, and Bryner was president of U.A.W. Local 1112 at the Lordstown, Ohio, General Motors plant, where a twenty-two-day strike had captured national attention.

“I’d been interviewed by every major magazine and newspaper. I was on ‘60 Minutes.’ But Studs was different”

Terkel followed Bryner, who’s now in his seventies, for two days. “He had a glint in his eye. He wanted to know how this worked, how that worked. He couldn’t stop.

Saks sought a wide variety of subjects—some of them she knew of personally, and others she found through research. Roque Sanchez, a twenty-one-year-old custodian featured in the new exhibit, said he had never heard of Terkel before Saks contacted him. A formerly undocumented immigrant from Mexico, Sanchez works at a downtown Chicago office building.

“It’s definitely not the worst job,” he said. “But I like working. It’s essential to make something with my life.” Ava St. Claire, who is in her late twenties, didn’t know Terkel’s work before, either. St. Claire works as an escort in Orlando. “I love my job. It’s the best I’ve ever had,” she said. “I can’t imagine doing anything else.”

Saks is a lifelong Chicagoan and the president and artistic director of Project&, a Chicago-based arts organization. “I really wanted to do something on economic inequality,” she explained, as she introduced a panel discussion earlier that night, in the library’s Cindy Pritzker Auditorium. “It’s one of the greatest conflicts of our time.” Once she had decided to focus on the subject, she instinctively turned to Terkel. “My dad and Studs were friends,” she told me.

“As a kid, I’d sit in the back seat as they drove around the city. My dad smoking his pipe and Studs his cigar. They were like a pair from Jewish central casting”

Saks’s intention with “Working in America” is not to mimic Terkel’s masterpiece, she said, but to continue the conversations he started. “Everyone has a relationship with work,” she added. “Even those who don’t have a job.”

The exhibit, which will run until January 31st, is free and open to the public, and it includes two additional components: a weeklong radio series that kicks off on September 25th, on NPR’s “Weekend Edition,” and a Web site where people can upload photos and share their own stories.

Saks hopes that by the end of January she’ll have raised enough money from private foundations and individual donors to take “Working in America” to libraries throughout the country. Bryner, meanwhile, told me that he was pleased by how things had turned out, and encouraged by the attention. “I thought it was interesting people still cared,” he said.

“This is a tribute to the legacy of Studs”

A master of oral history, Terkel published a number of as-told-to books, including, in 1974, “Working: People Talk About What They Do All Day and How They Feel About What They Do,” the book that inspired the new exhibit. “Working” featured interviews with more than a hundred workers from all walks of life. The book, Terkel writes in the introduction, is about the search “for daily meaning as well as daily bread, for recognition as well as cash, for astonishment rather than torpor; in short, for a sort of life, rather than a Monday through Friday sort of dying.”

It became a best-seller—and, a few years later, a musical—thanks, in large part, to the intimacy and depth Terkel elicited from people who are not usually the subject of books.

One of those people, Gary Bryner, is in the new exhibit, too. “I picked Studs up at the Youngstown airport,” Bryner told me, recounting the time Terkel spent with him for the book. “He didn’t even have a hotel reservation. He said he just wanted to stay in a mom-and-pop place and all he needed was a phone.” This was 1972, and Bryner was president of U.A.W. Local 1112 at the Lordstown, Ohio, General Motors plant, where a twenty-two-day strike had captured national attention.

“I’d been interviewed by every major magazine and newspaper. I was on ‘60 Minutes.’ But Studs was different”

Terkel followed Bryner, who’s now in his seventies, for two days. “He had a glint in his eye. He wanted to know how this worked, how that worked. He couldn’t stop.

Saks sought a wide variety of subjects—some of them she knew of personally, and others she found through research. Roque Sanchez, a twenty-one-year-old custodian featured in the new exhibit, said he had never heard of Terkel before Saks contacted him. A formerly undocumented immigrant from Mexico, Sanchez works at a downtown Chicago office building.

“It’s definitely not the worst job,” he said. “But I like working. It’s essential to make something with my life.” Ava St. Claire, who is in her late twenties, didn’t know Terkel’s work before, either. St. Claire works as an escort in Orlando. “I love my job. It’s the best I’ve ever had,” she said. “I can’t imagine doing anything else.”

Saks is a lifelong Chicagoan and the president and artistic director of Project&, a Chicago-based arts organization. “I really wanted to do something on economic inequality,” she explained, as she introduced a panel discussion earlier that night, in the library’s Cindy Pritzker Auditorium. “It’s one of the greatest conflicts of our time.” Once she had decided to focus on the subject, she instinctively turned to Terkel. “My dad and Studs were friends,” she told me.

“As a kid, I’d sit in the back seat as they drove around the city. My dad smoking his pipe and Studs his cigar. They were like a pair from Jewish central casting”

Saks’s intention with “Working in America” is not to mimic Terkel’s masterpiece, she said, but to continue the conversations he started. “Everyone has a relationship with work,” she added. “Even those who don’t have a job.”

The exhibit, which will run until January 31st, is free and open to the public, and it includes two additional components: a weeklong radio series that kicks off on September 25th, on NPR’s “Weekend Edition,” and a Web site where people can upload photos and share their own stories.

Saks hopes that by the end of January she’ll have raised enough money from private foundations and individual donors to take “Working in America” to libraries throughout the country. Bryner, meanwhile, told me that he was pleased by how things had turned out, and encouraged by the attention. “I thought it was interesting people still cared,” he said.

“This is a tribute to the legacy of Studs”

A master of oral history, Terkel published a number of as-told-to books, including, in 1974, “Working: People Talk About What They Do All Day and How They Feel About What They Do,” the book that inspired the new exhibit. “Working” featured interviews with more than a hundred workers from all walks of life. The book, Terkel writes in the introduction, is about the search “for daily meaning as well as daily bread, for recognition as well as cash, for astonishment rather than torpor; in short, for a sort of life, rather than a Monday through Friday sort of dying.”

It became a best-seller—and, a few years later, a musical—thanks, in large part, to the intimacy and depth Terkel elicited from people who are not usually the subject of books.

One of those people, Gary Bryner, is in the new exhibit, too. “I picked Studs up at the Youngstown airport,” Bryner told me, recounting the time Terkel spent with him for the book. “He didn’t even have a hotel reservation. He said he just wanted to stay in a mom-and-pop place and all he needed was a phone.” This was 1972, and Bryner was president of U.A.W. Local 1112 at the Lordstown, Ohio, General Motors plant, where a twenty-two-day strike had captured national attention.

“I’d been interviewed by every major magazine and newspaper. I was on ‘60 Minutes.’ But Studs was different”

Terkel followed Bryner, who’s now in his seventies, for two days. “He had a glint in his eye. He wanted to know how this worked, how that worked. He couldn’t stop.

Saks sought a wide variety of subjects—some of them she knew of personally, and others she found through research. Roque Sanchez, a twenty-one-year-old custodian featured in the new exhibit, said he had never heard of Terkel before Saks contacted him. A formerly undocumented immigrant from Mexico, Sanchez works at a downtown Chicago office building.

“It’s definitely not the worst job,” he said. “But I like working. It’s essential to make something with my life.” Ava St. Claire, who is in her late twenties, didn’t know Terkel’s work before, either. St. Claire works as an escort in Orlando. “I love my job. It’s the best I’ve ever had,” she said. “I can’t imagine doing anything else.”

Saks is a lifelong Chicagoan and the president and artistic director of Project&, a Chicago-based arts organization. “I really wanted to do something on economic inequality,” she explained, as she introduced a panel discussion earlier that night, in the library’s Cindy Pritzker Auditorium. “It’s one of the greatest conflicts of our time.” Once she had decided to focus on the subject, she instinctively turned to Terkel. “My dad and Studs were friends,” she told me.

“As a kid, I’d sit in the back seat as they drove around the city. My dad smoking his pipe and Studs his cigar. They were like a pair from Jewish central casting”

Saks’s intention with “Working in America” is not to mimic Terkel’s masterpiece, she said, but to continue the conversations he started. “Everyone has a relationship with work,” she added. “Even those who don’t have a job.”

The exhibit, which will run until January 31st, is free and open to the public, and it includes two additional components: a weeklong radio series that kicks off on September 25th, on NPR’s “Weekend Edition,” and a Web site where people can upload photos and share their own stories.

Saks hopes that by the end of January she’ll have raised enough money from private foundations and individual donors to take “Working in America” to libraries throughout the country. Bryner, meanwhile, told me that he was pleased by how things had turned out, and encouraged by the attention. “I thought it was interesting people still cared,” he said.