John Burdett: Sonchai is the illegitimate son of a Bangkok prostitute and an American G.I. father whom he has never met, although he is always trying to do so. After participating in the murder of his yaa baa (meth) dealer when he was a teen, he was forced to undertake some serious rehabilitation at a tough forest monastery in the far North of Thailand (his mother was connected to the abbot). To continue his rehabilitation after he disrobed, his mother found him a position as cadet in the Royal Thai Police Force, which brought him under the influence of the notorious Police Colonel Vikorn, whose feudal value system permits him to regard his commission as a licence to traffic in narcotics. In The Godfather of Kathmandu, their relationship develops to the point where Vikorn appoints him as his consigliere in the style of the Sicilian Mafia, after watching an illegal copy in Thai of the Godfather movies. In his inner life Sonchai is a devout and--unusual, considering his background--rather erudite Buddhist who is permanently tested in his faith not only by the kind of work he has to do for Vikorn, but also by his attraction to beautiful women. His spiritual side does not always prevail.

Question: Some time ago in the New York Times, you said this novel was the final installment in the Bangkok series. Does that still stand?

John Burdett: I did say that, although I think I only said it the once. At the time I could not see how to hold the attention of Western readers after I had said so much about Thailand in the previous books. Although there is no bottom to the mysteries of Siam, many of those mysteries are somewhat esoteric and hard to explain to anyone not interested in Buddhim or Southeast Asia. However, in writing The Godfather of Kathmandu I realized there was plenty of scope for having Sonchai do some international travelling for Vikorn. This he does in Godfather, enabling me to share my great fascination with the Kingdom of Nepal, particularly Kathmandu, and also with Hong Kong, where I worked for 12 years. In the next book, which I am half way through (the working title is Vulture Peak), there is a lot about another of my favorite countries, France.

Question: Four novels into the series, how do you think Sonchai has changed?

John Burdett: Readers tell me Sonchai never stops changing. I usually blame Buddhism: there is no constant in life but change. Perhaps another reason for his changes is my continual delight at how flexible the so-called thriller form can be. In particular, I have decided, rightly or wrongly, that the form does not need an over-simplified morality where the action is shared predictably between goodies and baddies. I see the form as capable of more maturity--and more interest--than that. Therefore Sonchai, as the central character, bears the agony of a genuine living morality in which it is not so easy to tell right from wrong; nor is it always possible to do right even when he knows which side the Buddha is on. This dilemma is shared by his Tibetan guru, Tietsin, who finesses it in his own Tibetan way, while Sonchai continues to agonize.

Question: You’ve noted that there’s no shortage of material in contemporary Bangkok. How are you finding the city as inspiration for fiction these days?

John Burdett: There is no limit to things of interest on an esoteric level, but having already exploited the best plums, I have to think how to share subtler aspects. One which interests me greatly is the intertwining of superstition with Buddhism at the grass roots level. For example, when one of my contacts in the local prostitution industry was given a house by her doting lover, she could not live in it until nine monks had blessed it in an elaborate ceremony that lasted all day. She confided in me that it wasn't because of her good looks or the devotion of her lover that she'd acquired a house, but because of the two hundred eggs she had promised the Buddha if He gave her one. I went with her to donate the eggs to the poor after first dedicating them to the Buddha at one of the wats. These kinds of details have to be slipped into the narrative, however, unlike the major themes of prostitution, Western johns, drug trafficking and police corruption which have become the main pillars of the narrative. In Vulture Peak, I also dare to look a bit more closely at local politics, which are quite medieval and remind me of Dante's Florence, right down to the color coding for different political tribes. Here in Bangkok we have red shirts and yellow shirts who regularly get into fights during demonstrations.

Question: How does a former lawyer and British ex-pat occupy the head of a conflicted Buddhist cop? As a writer, is there a "way in" for you to Sonchai’s mindset?

John Burdett: My father was a cop and my first years at the bar in England were spent working with cops and criminals. The cops were always stressed out of their minds, but what I noticed in London and saw repeated in Hong Kong was the peculiar camaraderie that often exists between the perps and the cops, as if they live in a world which they both understand and regard as real, whereas the lawyers, judges, and social workers were regarded as mere fantasists who had to be indulged for the sake of the system. In Hong Kong, I also realised that there are certain police procedures and habits which are the same all over the world, from investigating, arresting, charging, incarcerating, and rehabilitating, to the use of informants and corruption. Vikorn's patriarchal persona contains echoes of a certain station sergeant at a police station in Hampstead, London, with whom I had dealings. As far as getting into Sonchai's spiritual aspirations, that springs out of a fascination with Buddhism. I've always had a kind of metaphysical curiosity--I was one of those very rare literature scholars who loved metaphysical poetry--but it did not flower in adulthood until I started to read into Theravada. You could say I'm an accidental Buddhist, because I only started looking into that religion in order to build up the character of Sonchai. Although I've not formally become a Buddhist, I'm hooked on it as a "science of the mind."

Question: You’ve talked about getting away from detective novels in the future. What’s next for you?

John Burdett: I've realized there is more potential in crime fiction than I first thought. I'm always looking for a form that can express the perpetual dialogue between East and West in a dramatic way that readers will find compelling. At first I doubted that crime fiction could carry that kind of baggage, but now I'm not so sure. I shall continue to try to make crime pay for the next few books. After that, who knows? The Buddha said the future is inaccessible. But then he also said he was omniscient.

(Photo © Joanne Chan)