The Death of John Lacey

by Ben Hobson

John Lacey's lust for power and gold brings him riches and influence beyond his wildest dreams. Only he knows the terrible crime he committed to attain that wealth. Years later, as Lacey ruthlessly presides over the town he has built and named after himself, no one has the courage to question his power or how he wields it.

Brothers Ernst and Joe Montague are on the run from the law. They land in Lacey's town and commit desperate crimes to avoid capture. Lacey vows retribution and galvanises those in the town to hunt them down. But not everyone is blind to Lacey's evil, and a reckoning is approaching.

A visceral, powerful dissection of dispossession, colonisation and the crimes committed in their name, The Death of John Lacey is also a moving and tender account of the love between brothers and a meditation on the true meaning of mercy and justice.

Genres: Historical Fiction, Crime, Fiction, Westerns, Gritty, Audiobook, Historical

352 pages, Paperback

First published January 31, 2023

About the author

Ben Hobson lives in Brisbane and is entirely keen on his wife, Lena, and their two small boys, Charlie and Henry. He also has a superb pooch named Lincoln, which Charlie forced him to write about in his biography. He currently teaches English and Music at a Queensland High School, and has a keen interest in philosophy, theology, writing and reading.

Born in Gippsland, Victoria, Ben grew up surrounded by the sights and smells of the country. His early interest in creativity saw him pursue music both academically and artistically, graduating from QUT in 2011 with a degree, and travelling the country with Sounds Like Chicken, a ska/rock/hardcore hybrid.

In 2014 his novella, If the Saddle Breaks My Spine, was shortlisted for the Viva La Novella prize, run by Seizureonline. To Become a Whale, his debut novel, was released in June 2017, by Allen & Unwin. His second novel, Snake Island, was released in August 2019.

Reviews

[Rowan MacDonald · Rating 4 out of 5]

Dark. Gritty. Brutal. This made me want to take a wash, just like any good western should do. Ben Hobson transported me to the goldfields of 1850s Ballarat and beyond, in a book unlike any I have read before.

“No right or wrong in any of it. Just what we do so we can survive. This place was founded in opposition to buggers like us.”

It follows brothers, Ernst and Joe Montague from their tragic childhood, into their lives as outlaws. Meanwhile, John Lacey, a man fuelled by power and greed, strikes it rich – all due to a terrible crime. He founds the settlement of Lacey in his name. Father Gilbert Delaney and his family are new in town. While dealing with demons of his own, he is one of the only residents willing to stand up to John Lacey.

“I wish we’d never had to come here. I fear what is to come, Sarah. I fear it.”

Hobson creates an authentic atmosphere. I half-expected to see Ned Kelly riding past. The simmering tension and impending sense of doom were palpable. It was impossible not to feel enveloped in the Australian bush, the harshness of the times and landscape. The desperation of these people radiates throughout.

“I don’t have no-one else to blame. I accept that. But I am hounded. I am desperate. The world is tilted against me.”

This was the first book I’ve read without quotation marks for dialogue. It made my reading smoother, with dialogue weaving effortlessly into narrative. It helped create a vivid movie in my mind.

At times the violence could be unrelenting, but the plot and depth of characters kept me engaged. I wasn’t expecting sunshine and rainbows when reading about colonial Australia. And then, out of the darkness, Hobson delivered gems like this:

“He moved like a dog with worms on his arse over the dirt to a nearby tree.”

John Lacey is the most evil villain I’ve read. Language used is also reflective of era and setting, with treatment of Indigenous characters particularly difficult to read. At the same time, this doubles as education on Australian history. I was pleased to see contributions were made by Wadawurrung people in the book’s development.

Storylines come crashing together in the gripping final chapters. I enjoyed the symmetry of the thought-provoking ending - one which has already generated discussion with friends. The Death of John Lacey works on many levels; a powerful portrayal of colonialism, an exploration on brotherly love, loyalty and faith, and the lengths people will go to in pursuit of power.

If you’re after an Aussie western, or enjoyed films like The Nightingale, Ned Kelly or The Proposition, then you will enjoy The Death of John Lacey. It has made me want to read more historical fiction. But perhaps, more importantly, it has got me reflecting on the evils of colonialism, and issues still plaguing our beautiful country.

“Suffering and love. We are all beings built by the two. Though every person was unique in their suffering and different in their love, to each they still did all exist.”

Many thanks to Allen & Unwin for a copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.

[Suz · Rating 5 out of 5]

I loved this book, which is surprisingly pleasing as I don’t always embrace the historical fiction genre. Ben Hobson has shown us a fictious event which reads as real, which is troubling and effective at the same time. I found this author much later than a lot of Australian readers, and I will make up for this.

Brothers Ernst and Joe, share the same father. The stories of their differing mothers tragic, both losing them at a too young an age. Ernst is the elder, they are side by side in everything they do. Life has shown them cruelty from a young age and self sufficiency has created a strength for survival that comes naturally.

This place was founded in opposition to buggers like us.

The goldrush Ballarat is not an easy time for anyone, and right from the start we meet cruel, greedy, gluttonous, power-hungry John Lacey. He deems himself the leader, able to rid the town of those who do not fit in, he has no qualms saying this to the preacher either, the quietly spoken but respectful Gilbert, having pushed his predecessor out of town. At every stage in this man’s life, he acted to receive; giving is unknown to him. Calculating to the core, offering scraps to build a supposed empire. Twisting the bible to suit his purpose.

These brothers have not a clean reputation, they have done wrongs, but they will not allow Lacey to ride rough shot over a community. Having dealings with him years ago, there seems to be a tension that will not dissipate.

The book is as harsh as its setting, the characters brutal and unforgiving. But this does not, for me, weigh too heavily as I embraced those who had goodness in their spirit as well, even if it took them a while to reconcile with this. I also enjoyed the general tone of storytelling. Whose story is it to tell? One can truly not walk a mile, until it is walked in another’s shoes.

One act of terror that Lacey carried out, and his reflections on this straight afterward gave me pause, but with all the complexities this book covers turned this into an excellent story. The love of family, the internal grappling of one’s moral compass and the disrespect of other cultures made for confronting and gripping reading.

The audio version (I used both) did not include the author’s acknowledgements, but it did include the shift from the terrible attitudes and behaviours from then, till now, in contemporary times.

My thanks go to Allen & Unwin for my physical uncorrected proof copy to read and review, as always, their books open genres and reading experiences I would normally not have.

[Marianne · Rating 4 out of 5]

“Ernst thought about what he had seen of the blacks and also about what he’d read. He didn’t think they sere stupid at all. They seemed to Ernst to understand much more about how the land worked, and this terrified him. His father’s fields were one way to demonstrate knowledge but they had another. Whenever they returned to the forest they moved like water down a stream over rocks, fluid and easy, bending to slip between the cracks. His father was not like that. His father was an axe.”

The Death of John Lacey is the third novel by Australian teacher and author, Ben Hobson. In 1847, ten-year-old Ernst Montague is living with his parents on a small holding near Bannockburn in rural Victoria. His father Edwin was transported to Van Diemen’s Land for theft, and now grows potatoes and corn, and raises sheep. His mother Isabelle would much rather be back in her beloved Scotland.

Isabelle fears every encounter with the blacks, and hates that Edwin is so indulgent with them. Every encounter that Ernst has had with them has been benign, friendly, even. Then, in the aftermath of a musket accident, he learns something shocking about his father.

Six years on, Ernst, his younger brother Joseph and their father are panning for gold near Ballarat when John Lacey and his brother Graham enter the tent city. While the Lacey brothers reveal that they intend to build and run a storehouse, stocking and selling much-needed supplies to gold prospectors, it’s quickly clear that John’s lust for gold has not yet been satisfied, and he will do whatever he deems necessary to find more.

In 1870, some three weeks after preacher Gilbert Delaney and his young family arrive in Lacey, there’s a fire, and when Gilbert goes to help, he discovers an injured fugitive. He’s already aware that John Lacey runs his town with an iron hand; his discovery presents him with a dilemma he would rather not face.

Three narratives carry the story: John Lacey, Ernst Montague and Gilbert Delaney offer three very different perspectives of the events that lead up to the dramatic confrontation between them. There is a slow build to a tense stand-off and an inevitably tragic, violent climax.

John Lacey will quickly strike the reader as arrogant, antagonistic and self-serving; a man bent on gaining and holding power over others; his only redeeming quality is that he wants his brother Gray to be happy. As an innocent and sincere ten-year-old, Ernst Montague immediately endears himself to the reader; at thirty-three, he’s driven to desperate acts to try to save his brother. Gilbert Delaney spends much of the novel paralysed by indecision as he wrestles with his conscience.

Hobson conveys his era and setting with consummate ease: the rawness of the landscape, the primitive conditions, the prevailing white settler mindset of possession and ownership, about which his indigenous characters endeavour to convey their attitude to the land and its creatures. The reader is treated to some gorgeous prose: “His words sounded like music when he spoke, like in him was some permanent song. He had a deep voice” is one example.
.
Hobson has chosen to omit quote marks for speech, which is likely to irritate readers; his writing style is spare, perhaps a little too spare when it comes to long tracts of dialogue, where that creates some confusion. Scant detail leaves the reader to surmise some of what occurs between the time intervals described. This is a powerful dose of Australian historical fiction
This unbiased review is from an uncorrected proof copy provided by Allen & Unwin.

[Angela · Rating 3 out of 5]

The Death of John Lacey by Ben Hobson

Synopsis /

John Lacey's lust for power and gold brings him riches and influence beyond his wildest dreams. Only he knows the terrible crime he committed to attain that wealth. Years later, as Lacey ruthlessly presides over the town he has built and named after himself, no one has the courage to question his power or how he wields it.

Brothers Ernst and Joe Montague are on the run from the law. They land in Lacey's town and commit desperate crimes to avoid capture. Lacey vows retribution and galvanises those in the town to hunt them down. But not everyone is blind to Lacey's evil, and a reckoning is approaching.

My Thoughts /

2.5 rounded up to 3 stars

First and foremost, a huge thank you to Allen & Unwin for providing me with a copy of this publication, which allows me to provide you with an unbiased review.

I finished reading this one days ago and, to be fair, I’m struggling to put pen to paper. This is by far the most difficult review I’ve ever had to write; and I am struggling. I am trying to keep what I see as my ‘personal opinions’ on the writing in the background and just concentrate on what the author has given me as to the story. If you’ve read any of my past reviews, you’ll know that I read for enjoyment and, to learn new things.

#Start rant# My first observation. For me, personally, fiction novels without quotation (speech) marks are harder to read. In The Death of John Lacey, the author has made the decision to write and publish this novel with quoteless dialogue; as is his choice; but in doing so, has taken away some of my enjoyment of reading the story. I have made the personal decision not to read books that follow this fad, as it doesn’t sit well with me and is a personal irritation. So here is my first Trigger Warning: This book is written without the use of speech marks. #End rant#

Let’s get started.

Ben Hobson’s third novel, The Death of John Lacey is set in the goldfields of Ballarat, circa 1847-1870. In it, Hobson tells the story of the life and death of John Lacey in a most disorganised fashion. It’s broken down into six main parts:

I – 1870 The Death of John Lacey
II – 1847 Ernst James Montague and Joe Montague
III - 1853 The Conquest of John Lacey
IV – 1870 Ernst James Montague abandons Joe Montague
V – 1870 – The Wide Destructive Path of Gilbert Delaney
VI – 1870 – The Legacy of Ernst James Montague

With the opening scene, we are introduced to John Lacey. It’s obvious from this very short intro that Lacey has been shot and wounded and has been left on his own, with only his thoughts for company. Is he alive, or is he dead? So far, it’s only an inference. One of the things I found strange, was that John Lacey, the ‘book titled’ character, has his story told in such disorganised instalments. Often, we were given a part Lacey’s story from the perspectives of minor characters who had engaged with him in some small way. While this has the benefit of introducing a whole sub-cast of minor characters, it also, unfortunately, unnecessarily complicates things and draws attention away from a more complete version of Lacey as a whole. I found I connected with the brothers’ Montague more than the titled character.

Speaking of— meet half-brothers, Ernst James Montague, and Joe Montague. We get quite the backstory for these two and it’s not pleasant. Ernst is the son of a former convict. He lives with his mother and father on a piece of land on which his father cultivates corn and potatoes as a form of income. His mother, originally from Scotland, wishes every day of this, her new life, that she could go back home. His father, takes off for places unknown for days at a time, leaving Ernst and his mother alone to keep the place going. One day, while out repairing fencing, Ernst becomes injured and is found by a local Aboriginal man. The man brings Ernst back to his village where, surprisingly, Ernst finds his father – living with an Aboriginal woman. The woman has a baby. A son. Which Ernst begins to realise is his half-brother.

Fast forward some time and Ernst and Joe are both living uncertain, insecure, and perilously risky nomadic lives because of some violent incidents that occurred when Ernst lost both his mother and father and Joe, his father. It’s at this point where I might interject another Trigger Warning: There is a ‘lot’ of violence written into this story. Of which, a considerable amount is very descriptive and is deeply unsettling. Is it necessary? One ‘might’ argue yes (I would not), as it is a fair representation of the era – but it does become repetitive, and I found my eyes were glazing over at every further occurring incident of violent behaviour. The brothers are on the run from the law. They find themselves in the township of Lacey (named after John Lacey) and whilst there, commit several violent crimes to avoid capture. John Lacey rules the town he has built and named after himself with an iron fist. None of the townsfolk have the courage to question his accession to power or how he decides to use it. Now he’s after the brothers’ Montague. Lacey pledges retribution and rallies the men of the town to hunt them down.

For all the reasons I didn’t connect with this story, there is one quote which I thought particularly memorable—

You cannot believe all you read. He stopped walking and put a hand up to lean on a tree. He turned back to face Ernst and said, You cannot know a person by reading words on a page. You do not know me or my story. Words on a page are just words and they are not me or anybody like me. You cannot suppose to know me or know all of us by reading a book.

I’m going to end it here and with the above quote in mind, do not take my outlier review as gospel, you may love this one more than I.

Release date: January 31, 2023

[Anita · Rating 4 out of 5]

10 year old Ernst Montague is the son of a former convict, their life on the land growing corn and potatoes is harsh and isolated. His mother has become increasingly distant, pining for her Scottish homeland, and is afraid of the Aboriginals* who live in the area and occasionally appear at their home demanding handouts. His father is more tolerant and has furtively found friendship and love with them. When his Aboriginal wife dies and he brings home the child he fathered with her, Ernst’s mother sets their house on fire and perishes in the conflagration. Ernst recognises that their mothers died on the same day and he bonds with his half-brother, Joe.
The Montagues abandon the farm and have moved on to the goldfields when Ernst is promised a knife in return for minding the horses of two riders, brothers John and Gray Lacey. Also sons of a convict, they are headed to the Ballarat goldfields of the 1870s to make their fortune as shopkeepers supplying the goods required by the prospectors. They’d earned their seed money panning for gold, but John still secretly harbours the lure of striking it rich. John abducts an Aboriginal boy to show him the location of a productive vein. Never staking a claim his mine is clandestine and the fate of the boy is kept secret. The times are lawless, and the Aborigines are vulnerable. It’s the wild west - Australian colonial days style.
Years later Ernst and Joe are outlaws on the run, who happen to arrive at the town of Lacey. Powerful, rich John Lacey’s town. The brothers' attempt at theft turns into something more serious, Ernst escaping but injured Joe taking refuge in a church. With justice a farce what will the minister do? And what role will that knife and the hidden mine play in John Lacey’s demise?
‘The Death of John Lacey’ is written in a sparse style but with substantial impact, providing a powerfully thought provoking observation of our history.

• Author's note: written to reflect the terminology and attitudes of the time.

[Joanne Farley · Rating 4 out of 5]

In the authors note's Ben Hobson wants us to be aware that there are attitudes and beliefs in this book that would not be tolerated today. There are and I for one am glad they were included.
For better or for worse that is our history, while this story might be fiction many people would have lived something similar. It is really important that we represent out history as honestly as possible and that we don't run from it. We need to acknowledge it as it was that is the only way we can reflect on how far we have come and yes also how far we still have to go as a country.
That will be the enduring legacy of this book. The reader will get a good look at life in the gold fields in the 1800's and the horrid way that some people treated the indigenous people at that time.
The reader will also get a great story that is dark, violent, gritty and at times uplifting.
Is it worth reading 100% yes.

[Mandy White (mandylovestoread) · Rating 5 out of 5]

The Death of John Lacey is an incredible book for so many reasons. The story is dark and brutal, much like it's setting in 1800's Ballarat and the goldfields. I am finding it hard to put my feelings into words. Books don't often make me cry but I found myself emotionally involved reading this book.

Much research and care has gone into the writing of this book. The harsh reality of the time is so well depicted, and you feel as if you are there alongside the characters. It is a story of the time. It made me so angry at time, the way that people were treated, how they treated each other, all based in the colour of their skin. It is emotional and I really felt for Ersnt and Joe, brothers with different mothers. They would do anything for each other and have really tough lives. People are cruel, and the line between what is right and wrong is blurred. Power and greed play a big part in this story, you just need to read it to understand.

The Death of John Lacey is out now in Australia and is a must read. Thank you to Allen and Unwin for sending me a copy to read and review.

[Veronica ⭐️ · Rating 5 out of 5]

https://theburgeoningbookshelf.blogsp...
The Death of John Lacey is not only a story about John Lacey, it's a story about the harsh Australian countryside.
Hobson delivers an authentic Australian historical drama set during the mid to late 1800's. Told through the dual narrative of Ernst Montague, the son of a convict sentenced to life in Australia, and that of John Lacey, a smooth talking entrepreneur.  Ernst and John's lives cross at different times as the reader is taken to the gold fields and surrounding areas where men and women work hard to survive.
 
Hobson builds an ominous feel around John Lacey as he lurks around the gold fields doing favours and building alliances. He is a man that lusts for power and rules the town with an iron fist. Hobson also cleverly builds empathy for Ernst even though he is on the wrong side of the law and when Ernst and John confront each other the town will become divided.

I loved the conversations between the male characters, they were slow and sparse, coming across as very authentic. I also enjoyed reading about Australia and it's early years. It was a harsh country with some cruel men but there were also those that were willing to help others at their own expense.

If you are after a story that shows the struggle of early Australians coupled with the good and bad in men themselves, this will be a book you will thoroughly enjoy.
*I received my copy from the publisher

[Craig and Phil · Rating 4 out of 5]

Thank you Allen & Unwin for sending us a copy to read and review.
A story set in my home region is always going to be a winner as I picture the places and see the actual landscape.
Our region has a rich gold mining history and like most parts a turbulent and horrid past with the aboriginal people.
Life was tough for most and the weather too.
Ernst and Joe Montague are brothers living on the fringe where crime is the difference between life and death.
Both lost their mothers and now have each other and the bond is so strong. Prejudices and social policy will not corrode this affection.
John Lacey has carved his fortune from abuse and gluttony.
He has built a town and rules it with an iron fist.
A mean spirited violent man.
The brothers land in this town and John Lacey with all his bravado will be no match.
Such a raw, confronting and gritty story that reflects our history.
The interactions with the aboriginals, starting off farms and racism that was built into policy all set the scene.
Even the affair between the boys father and his aboriginal mistress was captured well, especially the tenderness he had for her and the baby boy.
A simmering tension of desperation is the core of this great story.

[Karen · Rating 5 out of 5]

As I was reading this novel, I was finishing the autobiography THIS MUCH IS TRUE by Miriam Margolyes in audio form and I was struck by the coincidence of some of the things that she says most powerfully and pointedly, about dehumanisation, the utter and abject cruelty of "Empire" and the way that it empowered, and continues to empower, entrenched racism. Add to that the question from Songlines: the Power and Promise, edited by Margo Neale - "What do you need to know to prosper as a people for 65,000 years?" - and you have a review of THE DEATH OF JOHN LACEY.

Nobody, for a moment, should think that this is not grim, confronting and difficult reading. This is a novel about dehumanisation, dispossession, colonisation and criminal behaviour. In the author's note at the beginning, Hobson says:

In the writing of this novel I have endeavoured to represent the attitudes of the early colonialists as accurately as possible, including their use of derogatory terminology and the expression of, and belief in, harmful ideas.

He then goes on to acknowledge that these attitudes and beliefs are in no way acceptable by contemporary standards, but they persist, maybe slightly buried by cowardice, due, in no small way, to the myths and lies that have fed the "official" narrative. I'm also acutely aware, as a descendent of a colonising family in the Ballaarat region, that these attitudes and this behaviour is part of my inheritance. Which made reading this novel just that bit more visceral, discomforting and frankly distressing. I'm thankful for writers like Hobson, and the Wadawurrung people who assisted in the writing, who make me confront the past, consider the actions of those that came before, and think long, and very hard, about the need for the truth to be told.

At the heart of this novel is the story of brothers Ernst and Joe Montague - same white father, two different race mothers, both dead when the boys were young. Side by side in everything they do, they were raised with cruelty all around them, and it shows in some of their attitudes and behaviours. John Lacey, on the other hand, is at a completely different level altogether, and the brothers, despite many years of interactions, never settle to him.

Lacey is simply greedy and cruel. He's also power hungry, and a terrible crime gives him the means to establish his own town, which he rules with an iron fist and extreme violence. Contrasted against this maniacal, evil character is the quiet and gentle Gilbert, the new preacher in town, a man who ultimately stands up against Lacey. A newcomer, he has no reason to be beholden to Lacey, and a different supporting platform to those that had survived Lacey's purges. Of considerably more interest to this reader was the platform under Ernst and Joe, whose difficult childhood and outlaw roots built within them their own moral code, a mutually supportive connection, transcending race and difference.  

What this novel does particularly well is convey the goldfields as they were. The mud, misery, pain and day to day struggles of life feel very real, as does the initial forays of connection between First Nations people and colonisers. It makes sense that one on one, humanisation was there. Add authority, vested interest and sheer greed, and out rolls the dehumanisation agenda.

Whilst THE DEATH OF JOHN LACEY is violent, unflinching and confronting, it's also extremely worthwhile reading. It is well past time that the white view of colonisation and dispossession was told truthfully, and there are timely lessons to be learnt about the way that "othering" of groups of people is still used to this day.

https://www.austcrimefiction.org/revi...

[Tracey Allen at Carpe Librum · Rating 3 out of 5]

Snake Island by Ben Hobson was a ripper read in August 2019 and it made it onto my Top 5 Books of 2019 list. I had the pleasure of interviewing the author as well, which you can check out on my blog.

Ben Hobson is back with his new book called The Death of John Lacey which will always be special to me, because guess what? I'm mentioned in the praise section with an excerpt from my Snake Island review! It's so exciting when this happens and I predict I'll never tire of the thrill. What an honour! Now, onto the book.

The Death of John Lacey is set in the Ballarat goldfields of colonial Australia and Hobson cleverly avoids any flack for the inherent racism some of his characters possess. The author is clear at the beginning that his writing is true to the period but understands readers might find the views of his characters abhorrent and unacceptable by our contemporary standards. It's a shame authors need to stipulate that they don't share the views of their characters, but better safe than sorry.

The book is set in 1847, 1853 and 1870 but begins in 1847 with Ernst James Montague and later his brother Joe Montague. These early pages reminded me of the last half of Devotion by Hannah Kent, although on reflection, I guess that shouldn't come as a shock. Both books were written by Australian authors and set in 1800s Australia for a start. Furthermore, the interactions between the new settlers and the indigenous population were interesting, engaging and sensitively handled and the landscape was incredibly evocative in both novels.

I would happily have dwelt here in Ernst's entire life story and I was deeply invested in the life he was living with his father as they tried to eke out a living from the land. Meanwhile, Ernst's mother was bitterly homesick and longed to return to her homeland. Unfortunately things don't go to plan but that's where we leave them.

We're then introduced to the Lacey brothers in 1853, but I couldn't make space for them as I was left wondering what happened to Ernst and Joe. We join them again later, but having been robbed of the aftermath of their earlier circumstances the connection to them as characters was lost.

When we meet him, John Lacey - of the title - is a formidable man on a power trip and not a character the reader is likely to care too much about. John has a brother Gray and while we spend some time in their story, I was indifferent to their plight.

The Death of John Lacey is divided into seven parts, during which time we get a glimpse of the lives of brothers Ernst and Joe Montague, brothers Gray and John Lacey and Father Gilbert Delaney. While Hobson brings all of the plot threads together in the conclusion, I found myself not caring too much about any of the characters; their demise or their salvation. But perhaps that was the point. It was a deplorable time in history and Hobson has given us some pretty heartless characters to despise.

John Lacey isn't an important or compelling character in the novel and his death didn't seem to be the focus of the book. As a result, I found myself puzzling over the title and wondering at its significance other than providing a logical starting and finish point for the overall narrative.

Historical fiction is my favourite genre, although I'll admit reading very few books set in colonial Australia. This is just a personal reading preference and I wouldn't have picked this up if it wasn't for the fact that Hobson absolutely blew me away with Snake Island. The Death of John Lacey is completely different and props to the author for his ability to write two completely different books and deploy a different writing style for each. I know it's a minor point, but I don't enjoy it when authors, editors or publishers decide to do away with punctuation for dialogue, but such is the case here and it definitely diminished my reading pleasure.

Covering themes of race, faith, greed, violence, ambition, law and order and the value of human life, there is much here to get stuck into. The writing is distinctly Australian, the landscape evocative and there were some great character insights, like this one from Father Gilbert:

"Gilbert understood that all death was like this, having presided over so many. There was always great wailing and sorrow, but in the end, after the dying had been done, there was pragmatism, and great relief in the work it required. Even so, he could not help but picture Joe's face as each nail was struck and the thought of Christ crucified on the cross and how those nails might sink into flesh." Page 242

The Death of John Lacey by Ben Hobson is recommended for those who enjoy historical fiction set in the goldfields of Australia, fans of Ned Kelly or bushranger fiction and readers who love a good western but won't get snooty when there is no dialogue punctuation. Ben Hobson is clearly an Aussie talent to watch and I can't wait to see what he turns his pen to next. Guaranteed I'll be there to be an early reader.

* Copy courtesy of Allen & Unwin *

[Theresa Smith · Rating 4 out of 5]

This was a gripping and often confronting read. I’m not characteristically a reader of Westerns, but I have read all of Ben Hobson’s books to date, I am a real fan of the honesty he writes with and how well researched his books are. Each have been vastly different too; he never writes the same thing twice.

Like Snake Island before it, The Death of John Lacey is gritty, violent, and confronting. Set in Colonial Australia at the time of early settlement, the beginnings of Ballarat and the Gold Rush, it’s a story of greed, racism, theft, and dispossession. John Lacey is about as despicable as you can imagine, and then some. As the novel rockets along to its inevitable end, I was bracing myself.

This is also a story of two brothers from different mothers, different cultures. Joe was stolen from his family by his father when his mother died and has been brought up without his Aboriginal family. The brothers are fiercely devoted to each other; they are the only family each of them has. Their bond is one that only death could break, and even then, you had the impression they would still be connected.

This story is a blaze of glory type of Western. A no holds barred, do or die, kind of story. It highlights how dangerous Australia was in the early colonial years, the lawlessness, the brutality. The Death of John Lacey is a confronting yet honest glimpse back into our history, the very worst of it, when the seeds of so many wrongs were just beginning to be sowed. Another excellent release from Ben Hobson. His literary talent is a gift that just keeps on giving.

Thanks to the publisher for the review copy.

[Caroline Poole · Rating 4 out of 5]

Well that was a rugged, violent, honest and fast paced trip into the wild gold rush days in Australia! It felt real, you could picture the wild country, the emerging townships, the mud, greed and desperation. These men, all with the will to survive by just about any means and usually with violence was a powerful and thought provoking read.
The horror of the treatment of our indigenous people during this time is so heartbreaking and painful, but it happened.

[Ellie Brown · Rating 3 out of 5]

3.5 stars.

[Great Escape Books · Rating 5 out of 5]

Our Review...


Opening in the familiar landscape of the Bannockburn hills, we meet Ernst Montague, a young boy being brought up on the land living side-by-side with a convivial local indigenous tribe.

He much loved, but bewildered by the yawning silences between his parents, until one fraught day his life and the family’s relationship with the Wadawurrung comes completely undone.

Ben Hobson is a gifted storyteller, and this is just one of the layers of characters and storylines within his orbit.

The remaining members of the Montague family gravitate towards the newly established Ballarat goldfields - really just a rag-tag collection of tents.

Here, Ben Hobson vividly brings the brutal realities of life in the goldfields over winter and the desperation of the miners looking for the seam of gold and the allure of freedom it will provide. 

We also first meet a young and ambitious John Lacey, who like many of the other miners, will stop at nothing to carve out an empire for himself.

What makes this a stand-out novel for me is how carefully Ben has woven the First Nations characters into the storyline. There are some quite violent episodes in this book and some readers may find this unsettling. However, I found it a very brave move and entirely within historical context. Also, Ben does flag derogatory terminology in this Authors Note and historical aboriginal treatment in Acknowledgments, so there should be no surprises going into the novel. He has also extensively consulted Wadawurrung people and feels that he has obtained their ‘support and blessing.’

I thoroughly enjoyed The Death of John Lacey, it is fast moving and illuminating insight into a complex part of a past that will appeal to readers of both historical fiction and Australian crime and thrillers alike. A terrific read.

Review by Nicole @ Great Escape Books

[Naomi Allan · Rating 5 out of 5]

I met the author of this novel while hiking on the Overland Track. We traded novels we loved and discussed what made writing so excellent and authors we were enjoying reading. He explained that in his own writing, he didn’t shy away from displaying the sinfulness of man in his characters. And after reading this, I would echo that this aspect of his writing made this story much richer and fuller, each character feeling so real, conflicted and also… lost in their own way. I admire the writing style and the credit given to the reader to read between the lines. The moments of descriptive prose were evocative, I particularly enjoyed the early sections. I will say that many parts of the story were very dark and I grimaced while reading. The subject matter is often not very nice but I appreciated the efforts to reflect historical events and attitudes accurately and let the horror of it all sit with the reader. Overall this was a fascinating and excellent read with clever writing and a mysterious air to it. Thanks Ben!

Edit - after pondering this for a little longer I must also mention and applaud the portrayal of Gilbert’s faith and doubt which was real, raw and powerful. Whilst not a situation I have been in, I felt deeply the pain of this character trying to trust God and act in his faithful conscience and simultaneously full of lots of doubt. How can this not be a five star book?!

[Chris Giacca · Rating 5 out of 5]

You know what? It takes a certain skill, as a writer, to make brutality feel impactful and not just indulgent. It takes craft to dig into the recesses of human cruelty and bigotry, to plumb the depths of what man will inflict on his fellow man, whilst still retaining the humanity of the individuals. It's easy to write characters without depth, that are an amalgam of the specific tropes you need to bring the themes you're aiming at to the fore. What's hard is to use that bleakness to bring colour and broadness to your story.

From a craft perspective, The Death of John Lacey is wonderful. But more than that, in raw story terms, it is memorable. I have long admired Ben's gift for his characters' interior voices, and tDoJL is evidence of his gift writ large across characters with more diversity than he's tackled previously. It takes a special kind of talent to write dark, light, and grey all with the same intensity and authenticity.

I could keep going on and on about the keen philosophical and theological examinations, the bravery and respect in the unflinching depictions of racial violence, the attention to detail in the mechanics of the era, all of that.

But honestly? You should just read it and have your life bettered for it.

[Travis · Rating 3 out of 5]

Good writing but what is that ending? Feels like a major cop out.

[Bronwyn Mcloughlin · Rating 4 out of 5]

Really struck by the number of readers unable to cope with lack of speech marks in the text. It’s not unique - be thankful there are capitals and punctuation! It embeds the reader in the narrative, removes the distance between the time and setting of the story and the reader - should I say, attempts to. The success of the strategy is dependent on more than the grammatical conceit - it depends on the relatability to characters, the effectiveness of the setting descriptions. For the most part Hobson achieves these goals. You are there as Gilbert is immobilised by indecisiveness and anxiety, as Ernst finds his brother, over and over again ….. and through it all are the themes of the destructiveness of greed and power, of colonisation and racism, expressed here so powerfully. The contrast between Lacey and his ruthlessness in establishing an order and control that satisfies his expectations, contrasts with the fruitless attempts that Joe and Ernst make to secure their own little part of stability, and with Gilbert’s strong sense of needing to set things in moral order but not being confident that he really knows what that looks like, or how to get there. In the end, it resolves as Gilbert might hope, on individual morality, as devastating or successful as that might be. No one can/should control another or seek to, and when it comes down to it, in such a scenario, there is no exploitation….. in theory. A sparse tale that elicits interesting prognostications.

[Rod · Rating 3 out of 5]

Described as 'an Australian western set in the goldfields of Ballarat… a viscerally powerful story of greed, power and violence', the novel is bookended by murder, setting the scene for this novel of dispossession, colonisation and criminal behaviour. It kicks well off with the titular death, and Lacey's final thoughts:

He did not regret he had killed the boy. He regretted only he had not killed him so hard he stayed proper dead.

Lacey, we learn, is cruel, greedy and power hungry. He makes his claims in the Ballarat goldfields, finding the wherewithal he needs to create an empire - a town named for him - through brutal exploitation of the local First Nations people and anyone who stands in his way. Not a character that is easy to relate to, but essential to the plot.

With the laws of the colony only slowly making their way into the countryside, the newcomers, driven by greed and gold lust, slowly eke out a life and 'civilise' the land. The settlement of Ballarat and its surrounds is unattractively painted in the all-too-real mud, misery, and daily struggles of life. But Lacey's is not the only cruelty in the novel, and many - but by no means all - of the colonising whites interact poorly with the original inhabitants (and each other).

Enter the brothers Ernst and Joe - same father but mothers of different races - who find a settled life almost impossible in a time where the colour of one man's skin most clearly defines his life potential. Their story, entwined with that of John Lacey, leads to the violent and lawless end of he novel.

This is modern Australian historical fiction and the pace is good, the action mostly strong, the characters well drawn albeit not the sort all readers will bond with. I have some niggles with it; the absence of punctuation in the dialogue is annoying and off-putting, and the dialogue itself often reads (to me) far too modern for the time period in which the novel is set. Not deal breakers for everyone obviously, but enough to detract from the enjoyment for me.

Three and a half stars.

[Tundra · Rating 4 out of 5]

4.5 A great read with a slow building tension that makes this a page turner to the end. I would describe it as gothic noir but I’m not sure if that’s the correct labelling. It reminded me a bit of the The Sisters Brothers by Patrick Dewitt - gold digging, gun wielding and a vendetta (but without the comedy of Dewitt). An interesting exploration of the darker side of the gold rush, racism and ‘justice’.

[Renee Hermansen · Rating 5 out of 5]

The characters in this book are very strong, making it a real experience. You either loved them or hated them.

At times it was hard to read about the treatment of the people of the land. It was brutal and eye opening.

The Death of John Lacey was well written and I would definitely read more of Ben Hobson’s books.

[Cass Moriarty · Rating 5 out of 5]

Author Ben Hobson writes about men, boys, mateship, family and violence. Those are recurring themes in all three of his novels so far. His latest book The Death of John Lacey (Allen and Unwin 2023) revisits those themes but incorporates much richer, complex and nuanced notions about right and wrong, morality and duty, revenge and redemption. This novel also demonstrates Hobson’s writing trajectory – his other books are good but The Death of John Lacey is excellent writing on a whole other level. The language is spare and sparse, the dialogue spot-on, the historical setting authentic and the story absolutely compelling and driven.

The story concerns two sets of brothers and the events that bring them together. Set from around 1840 to 1870 in the young settlement of the Ballarat gold fields, life is harsh – conditions are difficult, brutality is common and peace (physically or emotionally) is hard to come by. Hobson immerses us completely into that space with his visceral and shocking descriptions as if he has a hand around our collective throats and slowly squeezes until we feel we cannot breathe.

The death of the title occurs on the first page, which has the most poignant closing sentences: ‘He did not regret that he had killed the boy. He regretted only he had not killed him so hard he had stayed proper dead’. The tone then shifts to 23 years earlier, with brothers Ernst and Joe Montague, and the main narrative begins from their childhood and continues until their circumstances on the run from the law, and as is revealed, when they end up in the town of Lacey. This is where the two families’ stories, that of the Montague brothers, and of the Lacey brothers, Gray and John, intersect; John Lacey founded the town and he rules it with an iron fist. Nothing happens without his knowledge; nobody does anything without his permission. It is peak wild west lawlessness. The book is divided into sections about these four men and also about Gilbert Delaney, a local preacher who plays a crucial role in the story.

A book set in the colonial Australia of the 1800’s could not fail to include the dispossession of First Nations people and the way Hobson has incorporated the tragic truths of our country’s history is raw, shameful and traumatising even to read. I am not Indigenous but to me the incidents he depicts and the circumstances he describes feel not only authentic, but almost like a non-fiction account of the times. In a very important Author’s Note in the front of the book (and I’m so pleased he acknowledges this before the story even begins), he writes: ‘…I have endeavoured to represent the attitudes of the early colonialists as accurately as possible, including their use of derogatory terminology and the expression…of harmful ideas. However, it is important to acknowledge that these attitudes and beliefs are in no way acceptable by contemporary standards.’ He then goes on to thank the Wadawurrung people, with whom he consulted, for the use of their language and research and resources while writing this book.

This is such an important issue, one which could easily go very wrong, but like balancing on a tightrope, Hobson has managed to not only vividly depict the brutality, the prejudice, the trauma, the wrongness, of the times, but I believe he has done so from a place of purity of intent: he genuinely feels rage at our country’s treatment of First Nations people and he expresses that (in an opposite way) through his characters’ actions, words and thoughts. Again, it’s like reading a history book or an early colonialist’s journal – he does not shy away from the horrific attitudes of the time, but he also manages to make it very clear (through both the story and the characters) that this period was a shameful and reprehensible time, that we should all know just how truly horrendous it was, and that through that knowing, we should – we can – do better today. Acknowledging that history is vital to understanding the trauma inflicted on Aboriginal people, and why that trauma is still carried now, generations later. I admire his bravery in confronting this issue with a defiant and steadfast gaze.

I also commend him on his writing of violence. This book is full of violence, as was our land at the time, but Hobson retains command of his pen and every event he depicts is terrible but necessary. Not once did I feel the violence was gratuitous or overdone. It is not often you read a book so terribly violent that you finish with such a sense of redemption and peace.

And the reason for this is that Hobson balances the atrocities with a nuanced moral conversation that asks many questions of the reader. Family is at the heart of this book, as with all his novels, and the love, loyalty and sacrifice of family, especially brothers, elevates the book into a different space and allows the reader moments to breathe, to reflect and to feel joy. There are so many ethical quandaries here, and the reader will switch allegiances and experience inner conflict along with several of the characters as they face crucial life choices. Our own moral compass is tested.

The book races to an extended climactic conclusion which has all the hallmarks of a great thriller or crime book but retains its literary language and the sense of teetering morality as we balance on that tightrope. Hobson maintains control of this section with perfect pacing and we are drawn along towards the end wanting to turn every page faster but also fearful of how the story might end.

While I connected with the characters, engaged with the story and appreciated the historical setting, it is the writing itself that I most admire in this book. It’s gripping, gritty, raw, powerful and unflinching. It has a certain spare, clipped style that denotes an experienced writer who has studied his craft and worked very hard to make it seamless. The other highlight for me is that the novel explores shame, regret, revenge, trauma, friendship, sacrifice, love, loyalty and family, but most importantly of all, compassion, mercy and justice. The capacity for humans to act in a compassionate way amidst the burning hell of a violent and brutal landscape shines through with grace. The characters all have to make difficult decisions, but as a reader, I also found myself questioning every scene, every incident, wondering what I would have done in their place. I’m sure The Death of John Lacey will evoke many robust discussions at book clubs.

This is a novel that will make you think, seriously, about our collective past, and whether fiction, rather than history books (written by the ‘victors’) might more accurately reflect the trauma and truth of our past.

[Gavan · Rating 4 out of 5]

A gripping epic "western" in colonial Australia. Like a Cohen Brothers film on paper, with quirks, co-incidences, truly awful characters and some naive characters blundering in where they shouldn't. Quite violent. Themes of early settler treatment of Aborigines (truly appalling), religion, family, power & corruption, violence. Loved it.

[Christine · Rating 4 out of 5]

I really enjoyed this story. It was gritty, engaging and just a little bit different.

[Meg · Rating 4 out of 5]

An Australian Western, set near Ballarat in the gold rush. Not something I've read before. It was violent but not in a glamorising way. A good story

[Adam Byatt · Rating 5 out of 5]

"The Death of John Lacey" is a moral fable set in the gold rush era of Australia in the late 1800s exploring the impact of colonialism, racism, greed, power, mercy and justice.

This quote, from late in the novel, for me, sums up the core and heart of the novel's thematic focus:
"Suffering and love. We are all beings built by the two. Though every person was unique in their suffering and different in their love, to each they still did all exist." It framed an understanding of the characters, their morality and their choices, giving voice to their perspectives.

The novel is structured differently to how you would expect a novel to unfold, and I found this refreshing as it allowed me to "fill in the gaps" and explore the characterisation. It begins with the death of the titular John Lacey (but not how or why). The novel's sections are built between explorations of Ernst and Joe Montague, John and Gray Lacey, and Gilbert Delaney, and connects at the end of the novel.

It opened up the narrative to the specific moments important to the character and the reader sees the logical consequences of their actions, be it decades later. Their choices are paths are built into their lives; it's the final moments of their lives when the clarity of their thinking and actions are revealed to them. They know their paths, almost like a destiny or fate fulfilled. They had chances to change, like a Shakespearean protagonist, but we know they will not change.

Each section builds wonderfully towards the denouement, and it leaves you with some unanswered questions but once you sit with the ending for a while, you keep pondering the moral and ethical conundrums of the characters.

It opened up the narrative to the specific moments important to the character and the reader sees the logical consequences of their actions, be it decades later. Their choices are paths built into their lives; it's the final moments of their lives when the clarity of their thinking and actions are revealed to them. They know their paths, almost like a destiny or fate fulfilled. They had chances to change, like a Shakespearean protagonist, but we know they will not change.

As a writer, reading this novel, it felt like nothing was 'wasted' in the narrative. It built the framework for the reader to inhabit the world of each character, and then to muse on their morals and actions, without the narrative needing to become didactic.

Ultimately I saw it as a moral fable, with definite applications and analogous to the state of play in the world right now.

[Jülie ☼♄  · Rating 4 out of 5]

Set in 1800’s Victoria, in Australia’s Ballarat gold fields, the book consists of seven parts, or seven stories which ultimately come together to make up the complete and fascinating story of one John Lacey, a larger than life forward thinking man who set about to build a town…as well as some formidable notoriety.

I was excited to get into this book as it has everything I love about Australian historical fiction, and I wasn’t disappointed…in the story at least, and so I persisted even though it was already becoming apparent that the way the story was structured was a bit off putting.
It wasn’t until around chapter five that I really noticed the lack of speech “ “ marks or other speech identifying format. I had become aware of it before then but only vaguely, and didn’t make much of it until chapter six when the dialogue between mother and son became more prominent and I found myself trying to gauge thoughts from actual dialogue.
It was confusing and I had to keep re-reading sections to be sure of who was who and thoughts from actual statements.
This broke the momentum so often that it really spoiled a lot of the enjoyment for me as it was hard to get invested in the people.
So, although I did enjoy the story very much, I felt let down…in my opinion it went from being a potentially great book to a good story with potential.

*I still retained the hope that it was just a formatting thing that would be addressed in the final edition as mine was an uncorrected proof copy.
I’m sorry to say that those hopes were dashed after the book went on sale and the reviews started to come in…I saw it wasn’t just me.

4.5⭐️s

* The lack of quotation marks throughout interrupted the flow of my reading experience enough that I don’t want to let it go unmentioned, as it obviously didn’t go unnoticed and is the only reason for me giving a 4.5 star rating instead of 5 stars.
I don’t understand the reasoning behind it, it certainly does nothing to enhance the reading, on the contrary it is disruptive in that it continually breaks the continuity and therefore the mood.
*My comments are entirely my own and definitely not intended to hurt the author, I just hope he will take note and think about how his work is received by many of his readers.

With thanks to Allen & Unwin and the author for my uncorrected proof copy to read and review.

[Poppy Gee · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is a beautifully written Australian western set in the turbulent, lawless Victorian gold fields. Spanning 1857-70, it's the story of two pairs of brothers whose lives intersect in desperate circumstances. It's about love and loyalty, power and greed, sacrifice and morality, and the meaning of justice.

Half brothers Ernst and Joe are the sons of a white man and respectively, his white wife and the Aboriginal woman whom he loves. The brothers' close relationship is fraught with the racial politics of the era. They are also criminals on the run and when they arrive in the frontier town of Lacey, the town's founder is determined to bring them to justice. Ruthlessly ambitious, rich and powerful, John Lacey is nursing the horrific secret of how he was able to create a town in his name. This secret shadows much of his life, including his relationship with his own brother. Cold hearted John Lacey is a striking villain whose gold-fevered malevolence infuses the story with menace.

I enjoyed how the diggings around Ballarat are brought vividly to life - the muddy sea of dirty canvas tents, a few humpies with bark-thatched roofs and the brick hotels, meals of damper and kangaroo stew, impoverished families searching for gold, and people wearing possum furs, moleskin trousers and stovepipe hats. Hobson pans in so closely that the gold rush feels real and contemporary. It's an excellent setting for exploring this part of Australian history: the dark depths of settler greed and opportunism, the First Nations people's resistance and overtures of friendship, and the spiraling violence of dispossession.

Hobson digs into different points of view about our colonial past. Some authors try to put a positive spin on this timeframe, insisting on a cheery mythology of our nation. This is problematic for reasons of accuracy, and diminishes the opportunity for finding genuine common ground. Hobson avoids this, portraying the brutality, prejudice, dispossession and settler greed with clarity and nuance. He writes with empathy and at the end acknowledges the help given to him by the Wadawarrung people.

Impressive and compelling.

[Marles Henry · Rating 3 out of 5]

Reading this book was like reading about an outback renegade in the goldfields of the 1800s in Australia. A little Australia-western flair, a lot of violence and roughness, colonialism and its deep prejudice against Aboriginal people, greed and being above the law. This is a book about a fight with consciousness. And the centre of all this is John Lacey, and he is not a nice man. He lives for the power he wields in his namesake town, and is rather evil. He is the kind of man who will go to any length to achieve and hold onto a power that can rival none. Until, that is, it is challenged.

There are seven acts in this book, and we start with what seems the demise of John Lacey. We are told a story in this book. It is like an account of episodes, rather than a biography of a person or events. The style of capturing dialogue without quotation marks adds to this flow, almost a summary, but detailed enough to tell us a story from several points of view. It seems more abrupt which matched the danger and violence of the times and it took me very quickly into the 1850s and 1870s. The dust on the streets, the mud from the rain, the dirtiness and grittiness of it all.

The distorted story telling through the eyes of Joe and Ernst, as well as the Preacher Delaney, and the contrast between the Lacey townfolk in their lazy English to the properness of Delaney is quite a clever touch. Nothing is questioned, only when it suddenly seems not quite what it seems. And then everything is a fight till the bitter end. A very different look through a story set in 19th century Australia.