“I had so much fun writing this book,” Adrian McKinty enthuses. “It was an absolute blast.”

The time difference means Melbourne-based McKinty is speaking to Hot Press late on a winter’s evening, having risen at an ungodly hour to watch his beloved Liverpool crushed by Manchester City. Still, his spirits are high as he chats excitedly about his new book, The Sun Is God.
“It was one of the most enjoyable I’ve had to research. For the last five years, I’ve been writing gloomy novels about Northern Ireland in the 1980s. You have to go back and read all this stuff which, to be honest, is a bit depressing. You’re reading things about a massacre in a pub, or a bombing. This was such a breath of fresh air.”
The novel certainly marks a significant departure for McKinty, whose Seán Duffy trilogy had catapulted him to the forefront of Irish crime fiction. Far from the bleak world of The Troubles, The Sun Is God is set in the South Pacific at the turn of the 20th century. While still ostensibly a detective story, it’s a distant cry from the shady underworld with which his writing is associated.
“I had a feeling people were going to really like or really hate it. Some of the books, you think ‘Well, it’s a middle ground: some people will like it, maybe a few love it, but no one will despise it’. I felt with this one people will be saying ‘why aren’t you writing Sean Duffy?! Why aren’t you writing about Northern Ireland?! That’s what you’re supposed to be doing!’
“I loved writing about that era. It’s the world before the fall, before everyone became cynical and embittered. The century began full of hope, with people wondering what the future would bring; flying machines, radio, telephones! Instead of the greatest century of all, it was one of the worst; World Wars, misery and death. It is a really attractive era to go back into.”
As if the move from the Royal Irish Constabulary to the tropical islands of the South Pacific wasn’t enough, the new novel even differs from the usual model of crime fiction; the detective at the heart… well, leaves a little to be desired. When a suspected murder occurs on the island, former British Military Police Officer Will Prior is sent to investigate. He doesn’t do a great job.
“Readers hate this, I know they do,” McKinty laughs. “They can tolerate anything in a detective except incompetence. In a comedy, it’s fine; Inspector Clouseau or whatever. In a straight novel, he can be an alcoholic, a murderer... but not a guy who isn’t good at his job. I play it with a straight bat too, because it’s true to the character; he does his best in difficult circumstances, trying to get redemption, but he’s simply not going to be the hero. I know people don’t like that. I could make him more heroic, and make him save the day, and readers will love it. It felt like a betrayal of the story. It’s not attempting to wind people up; you’re trying to get close to the perfect story, the platonic story. It wouldn’t have worked.”
The backdrop sounds like the ultimate comedy set-piece, but it is, quite incredibly, based on fact. The Cocovores were a small group of German nationals who, during the colonisation of New Guinea, had retreated to an island where they lived their lives worshipping the sun, believing it would bring immortality. It seems ridiculous such an extraordinary story hasn’t received coverage before – and even more ridiculous that McKinty would be the one to stumble upon it.
“There was an old Australian travel book – I read a lot of travel books – and this guy had gone to German New Guinea. He mentioned there was this island where all these naked Germans were going around naked, worshipping the sun.” McKinty pauses for effect. “And that was it! Just one line! C’mon, man, what a wasted opportunity! It’s a bunch of fucking crazy Germans in the South Pacific, all bonkers; they’re only eating coconuts, they’re taking heroin, going around naked and worshipping the sun. And it’s all true! What’s not to like?!”
Despite the majority of the islanders – and our bumbling anti-hero – being male, the real power lies with the female characters.
“If you’re writing about ’80s Northern Ireland, it’s a male-dominated society. I was writing about Carrickfergus RUC for the past five years, and all the policemen, everyone in authority, the MPs... they’re all white males between 30 and 50. All the judges and solicitors are male. You might occasionally see a female reporter on TV. Generally, it was a very patriarchal world. Much to my delight, I found that, on the other side of the world, were all these women in positions of power. It’s the Governor’s wife controlling things from behind the throne, the Countess bankrolling all the Cocovores. It was a conscious decision: I love having all these complex, multi-faceted women running the show.”
All good things, though, must come to an end, and the book’s publication marks the conclusion of this little mini-sabbatical.
“I’ve another idea for Sean Duffy,” he admits. “I’ve been putting off writing it for about a year. It’s just becoming bigger and bigger in my mind. Fortunately – or unfortunately! – it’s been ‘flowing’ really well and I’m just going to have to follow that. Maybe then I’ll have got 1980s Northern Ireland out of my system, and do something else.”
The Sun Is God certainly suggests there’s plenty to look forward to when Duffy is left behind. Still, McKinty isn’t promising a return to the South Pacific anytime soon.
“I went there thinking I’d get good ideas for the book; instead, I got homesick and depressed! Turns out I prefer to do my research in a library…”