Kevin Jared Hosein, 36, is a teacher and writer from Trinidad, where he lives and works. He won the Commonwealth writers’ prize in 2018 for his story Passage and he has written two novels for young adults, The Repenters and The Beast of Kukuyo. His first novel for adults, Hungry Ghosts, is set in 1940s Trinidad and concerns the wife of an overseer who goes missing and the attempts by one of his employees to move up in a highly stratified society. Hilary Mantel called it “a deeply impressive book… and an important one”.
What is a hungry ghost (a preta)?
It originated in ancient Hindu tradition, where if you commit certain sins, [when you die] you transform into a being where your mouth is very small and your appetite is extremely large. So you would have this unending hunger and no way to satiate it. I thought it was a good analogy to explain the character motivations in the book, especially where social mobility is concerned and whatever life you attain; it can never be enough.
Where did the impulse to write the book come from?
My grandfather told me a story from when he was a teenager, about an aristocratic lady, the wife of an overseer, who was coming through the village and she tripped and fell in the mud. Some little boys laughed at her and she threatened to destroy the village. That laughing boy may have been my grandfather, how vividly he recalled it. It was really compelling to me, so I wanted to build a story around that image.
Why did you set it in the 1940s?
It was a time that was like the American wild west, it seemed like nobody was in charge. British colonial rule was loosening and there was a transfer of power, which came with its own problems, like cronyism. The American navy was also here, so you had these two superpowers on the island. It was almost as though Trinidad was starting to be reborn.
In the book, the poor “barrack”-dwellers, who are Hindu, suffer prejudice from the richer Christian villagers. Have things improved in Trinidad?
We’re quite multicultural; the east Indian population (about half the country) is a mixture of Hindu and Christian, with some Muslims. There has been a lot of integration. There’s still some prejudice. For example, when Hindus die, they cremate [the bodies], but during Covid-19, cremations were stopped. Research [eventually] showed that cremation didn’t really spread the virus, but it was far into the pandemic before they allowed it again. So you had bodies piling up and people unable to complete their funeral customs. I’m not religious, but the household I grew up in was highly observant of Hinduism. The maternal side of my family is Hindu, my paternal side a mix of Presbyterian and Muslim.
What have you got against dogs? They suffer an awful lot in the book.
I own three dogs! I grew up with dogs my whole life and those scenes were really hard to write. I was thinking about how dogs were written in [JM Coetzee’s novel] Disgrace, and the analogy he used with the dogs, how throwaway the lives of animals were. It wasn’t easy to write. It was [originally] worse. But my agent, he loves dogs, and he said: “It can’t be like this, it will turn off too many people.”
When I first heard about the book it was to be called Devotion. Why the change?
Hannah Kent came out with a book called Devotion! Devotion was the title because, in Hindu religion, they don’t say you worship anything, but you devote certain aspects of yourself. But it wasn’t that heartbreaking to lose it.
Why do you think so many Trinidad-linked writers have been finding international success lately? Monique Roffey, Roger Robinson, Ingrid Persaud, Anthony Joseph…
We’re trying to figure it out as well. For me, the internet has given me access that might not have been possible 10 years ago. I also think [Jamaican writer] Marlon James helped us [writers from the Caribbean] when he won the Booker prize and a lot of publishers were looking for a follow-up. Not long after that, Kei Miller sold Augustown for six figures. The Bocas literary festival also helped a lot; I think they started in 2012. Before that the literary scene in Trinidad was a wasteland.
Where and when do you write?
This room, right here, where my wife does her art and the washing machine is on, so I usually have my headphones on. And there’s a window view where I do my long writing, unedited stuff. Sometimes, I just type-type-type, whatever comes to me. I usually do editing in bed before going to sleep. Which is not really ideal, but it’s what I’ve become used to.
Which living writers do you most admire?
The one I read most is Cormac McCarthy. I like Annie Proulx. I like Ian McEwan a lot. There’s a certain darkness in what I like to read.
What was the last really great book you read?
Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow by Gabrielle Zevin. I really love how it took an uncommon aspect, video game design, and still made it into a compelling story. I think it’s something quite remarkable.
Who is your favourite literary character?
The one that’s coming to mind is probably not the best example. It’s quite a despicable character really, the judge from Cormac McCarthy’s Blood Meridian. A very, very savage character. That’s the one that popped into my head, but it’s so violent.
You attended an event with Trinidad-born Nobel winner VS Naipaul, who, when asked for a writing tip, said not to bother because most stories have been told.
It was a bizarre situation where he came back to Trinidad and nobody knew why because he talked really negatively about the island. He wanted attendees to buy new editions of his books, but I somehow managed to get my old edition [of A House for Mr Biswas] signed. He looked really angry when he realised it wasn’t the new one. I get comments from friends: “Oh, you might be the next VS Naipaul.” And I’m like: “No!”
Hungry Ghosts by Kevin Jared Hosein is published by Bloomsbury (£16.99). To support the Guardian and Observer order your copy at guardianbookshop.com. Delivery charges may apply