It’s rare that a work of historical non-fiction grabs a reader from page one, but Dead Man in Paradise does exactly that, holding the reader captive as author J.B. MacKinnon embarks on a remarkable journey to investigate a controversial death in the family. MacKinnon’s Dominican Republic expedition to discover who killed his uncle Arthur, a priest gunned down in 1965 during the U.S. invasion of the country, works as travelogue, thriller, and much-needed antidote to the ways in which history is often buried and forgotten.

In a style that mirrors the surrealistic tradition common to much Latin American and Caribbean literature, MacKinnon’s story builds by alternating chapters, recreating the world of his uncle, “Padre Arturo,” who confronted Dominican poverty in the 1950s and ’60s, while describing the maddening contemporary efforts to peel back the veils that cloud the man’s history. MacKinnon’s uncle, like many members of the overseas church during the Cold War, was viewed as an enemy of the state because of his concern with not only comforting the poor, but also advocating for them.

MacKinnon’s 21st-century inquiries make him a possible object of suspicion as well, for powerful figures complicit in the crimes of the 1950s and ’60s continue to live freely in a climate of impunity. As suits a good detective story, readers are introduced to a variety of well-drawn characters, from former rebel leaders and retired generals to petty bureaucrats and shadowy figures who pop out of nowhere with an offer to help solve the mystery of Padre Arturo’s death or provide a word of caution that it is still dangerous to be making such inquiries.

Their insights, ironic sense of humour, and homespun wisdom put a human face to the often tragic history of the Dominican Republic, a sister nation to neighbouring Haiti, with an equally long history of repression and resistance. Indeed, it is a land whose unrelenting heat, oppressive poverty, and sublime beauty are ably captured by MacKinnon. The country becomes a major character whose sights, smells, and sounds inform every sweaty step the author takes.

Dead Man in Paradise is valuable on many levels, not least of which is its ability to capture the region’s tragic revolving door of predictable history. Mirroring the events of 1965, MacKinnon’s journey is marked by the echoes of war in Iraq and another invasion and occupation of Haiti. And as Dominicans prepare to vote in an election, they keep one eye on Washington, ever fearful that whatever they decide for the D.R., the ultimate decisions about their future lie in D.C.

Raised on tales of his uncle while a politically involved Canadian teenager, MacKinnon notes in his acknowledgments that his family always expected him to write this story. He has most capably fulfilled that destiny.