The Second Coming by John Niven, 2011

John Niven’s ‘The Second Coming’ is not for the easily offended. Yes, the second coming of the title is indeed the return of Jesus Christ to earth. God is appalled at the mess we are making of things down here, and decides to send Jesus back down to have another go at sorting us out. This is not the millennial second coming of prophesy, but a rerun of the first attempt.

Niven’s satirical approach is raw and uncompromising – think Frankie Boyle or Bill Hicks. God is the CEO of Heaven, a charismatic leader who despises organised religion, doesn’t need to be worshipped (why would he?), and loves gays and cannabis. His message to mankind is “Be Nice”, not the monstrously clumsy ten commandments of the Old Testament. Satan is akin to the boss of an opposing company, and hell is the nightmarish vision of Dante and Bosch combined, a place where the eternal anal rape of homophobes is just a little too gleefully described. Did I mention Niven doesn’t do subtlety?

Jesus returns to earth as a New York hippie, trying to help the dispossessed and the disadvantaged, at first making very little difference, if any. “Be Nice” is not a message that gets much traction, so Jesus enters a musical talent competition – a very thinly disguised American X Factor – masterminded by a stunningly unpleasant boss. Niven’s publisher’s lawyers must have had some sleepless nights worrying about getting a call from Simon Cowell’s legal team. At one point it looks as if Niven is going to suggest that the Cowell figure is Satan’s representative on earth – he might as well be, such is the depth of his evil – but he backs away from that idea – on counsel’s advice perhaps? I enjoyed the anarchic road-trip across the States that Jesus and his assorted disciples take, and the talent content was also fun, with Jesus each week wanting to perform an indy song a long way from the classic ballads favoured by the show’s producers.

I won’t spoil the plot for you, but the ending does not come as a shock. Niven is on record as an atheist, and certainly gives organised religion both barrels, but the portrait of heaven was surprisingly sympathetic, and Christ’s faith in his resurrection is touchingly absolute and unquestioning, so much so that if you had told me Niven was an unorthodox Christian I would not have been surprised. I read this novel of almost 500 pages in less than 48 hours – it has great momentum, and you want to know how it all works out, even if you really know all along.