Game by Trevor Shearston

JUDGES' COMMENTS

In a taut, beautifully controlled reworking of the Australian bushranger archetype, Game joins Ben Hall and his men several gruelling years into their life on the road, and on the run. It’s 1865, and the appeal of the criminal life is fading. The Harbourers’ Act has been made law, coach escorts are better armed and protected, mailbags carry more cheques and less cash. Hall’s companions have killed two men, he’s losing support among old friends fearful for their own safety, and he’s tired. If he’s caught, he’ll hang. He starts making plans to give the game away and escape. But first, he needs to see his son, Harry – and longs for some sign that the boy needs him back.

There is no romance in this surprising, restrained portrait of Hall: the bushranging life is characterised by adrenaline and exhaustion, huntedness and boredom – and fear. Shearston’s prose is lithe and natural, skilfully and seamlessly blending historical authenticity with a muscular, contemporary urgency. The relationship between father and son is movingly portrayed, all the more powerful for its refusal to grasp at sentiment or easy answers.