I had to do the most research to fully appreciate the first offering, “His Master’s Voice” by John Rigney. The editorial note states that Rigney needed three years to finish this story, both because of the research involved and his need to immerse himself in the work of Alan Lomax.

According to the Association for Cultural Equity, between 1933 and 1985, Lomax visited penitentiaries, plantations, and lonely little farms of the Mississippi Delta seeking "jewels of the human spirit . . . to listen, observe, fraternize, and record." Added also are the contributions of Stetson Kennedy, a pioneer folklore collector about whom Lomax said, “I very much doubt that a better book about Florida folk life will ever be written.” Both white men were able to immerse themselves in the culture of the oppressed minorities and “renew the springs of human creativity.”  Zora Neale Hurston, described as one of the most important American writers of the twentieth century, also makes a cameo appearance. If, like me, you are unfamiliar with this anthropologist’s work, which includes short stories, novels, plays, and scholarly works on folktales and songs of New World Africans, it is undoubtedly because she bore the dual encumbrances of being female and Black.

I don’t have a problem with stories that have heavy science elements, but in "Gepetto Kiln," they got in the way of the story instead of moving it forward. DeNiro’s device, Fiona flipping to the end of the "boring book,” reminded me I was no longer in school and could just finish it with no consequences if I skipped a few of the details. That seems good evidence that they were unnecessary.  Still, while I’m not familiar with DeNiro’s other works in this world, I won’t let three paragraphs prevent me from taking a look at them.