When Juke Edwards told his producers he wanted to raise a person from the dead on live television, they practically came in their shorts, he remembered bitterly of that cold November day. They had fallen all over each other, fawning over his work, in an effort to be the first to agree with him. For Juke Edwards, who was born Philippe Ortega, 42 years ago, in his home country of Brazil, the fact that she was a woman, or that she was black hadn’t even crossed his mind. That she had been picked randomly in the crowd would never be believed. And when the controversy began, where had his producers gone then?

Vanished, he thought, miserably. Faster and with more slight-of-hand than the pyramid he himself had made disappear the year prior. They had up and vanished, distancing themselves from what appe...

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