My Monticello, by Jocelyn Nicole Johnson, is a striking debut collection of fiction that resists categories. There are five short stories that are sort of realistic, plus the superb title novella, which I’d label “dystopian lite,” because it’s too close to present day racial realities in America to be quarantined within the realm of fantasy.
“Control Negro,” the standout short story, is about a Black college professor who still finds himself mistaken for the janitor. So the professor decides to conduct an experiment:
What I needed, it occurred to me then, was to watch another man’s life unfold: a Black boy not unlike me, but better than me—an African American who was otherwise equivalent to those broods of average American Caucasian males who scudded through my classrooms. ACMs, I came to call them, … I wanted to test my own beloved country: Given the right conditions, could America extend her promise of Life and Liberty to me too, to someone like me? What I needed was a control, a Control Negro.