The First Friend

by Malcolm Knox

A tour de force set in 1938 Stalin Soviet Union, this chilling black comedy it is at once a satire and a thriller, a survivor's tale in which a father has to walk a tightrope every day to save his family from a monster and a monstrous society.

'Bleak, intelligent and fearsomely well-researched - I kept telling myself I shouldn't laugh, but couldn't help it.' Michael Robotham

Even the worst person has a best friend.

A chilling black comedy, The First Friend imagines a gangster mob in charge of a global superpower.

The Soviet Union 1938: Lavrentiy Beria, 'The Boss' of the Georgian republic, nervously prepares a Black Sea resort for a visit from 'The Boss of Bosses', his fellow Georgian Josef Stalin. Under escalating pressure from enemies and allies alike, never certain who he can trust, Beria slowly but surely descends into dark murderous paranoia.

By his side is his driver and right-hand man, Vasil Murtov, Beria's closest friend since childhood. But to be a witness is the most dangerous act in this world; Murtov must protect his family and play his own game of survival while remaining outwardly loyal to an increasingly unstable Beria. With the action moving between Moscow and Georgia, the tension ramps up as Stalin's visit and the inevitable bloodbath approaches. Is Murtov playing Beria, or is he being played?

The First Friend is a novel in a time of autocrats, where reality is a fiction created by those who rule. Reflecting on Putin's Russia, Trump's America, Xi's China and Murdoch's planet Earth, it is at once a satire and a thriller, a survivor's tale in which a father has to walk a tightrope every day to save his family from a monster and a monstrous society. Where safety lies in following official fictions, is a truthful life the ultimate risk?

Genres: Fiction, Historical Fiction, Russia, Historical, Ebooks, Australia, Audiobook

Kindle Edition

Published September 3, 2024

About the author

Malcolm Knox was born in 1966. He grew up in Sydney and studied in Sydney and Scotland, where his one-act play, POLEMARCHUS, was performed in St Andrews and Edinburgh. He has worked for the SYDNEY MORNING HERALD since 1994 and his journalism has been published in Australia, Britain, India and the West Indies.

His first novel Summerland was published to great acclaim in the UK, US, Australia and Europe in 2000. In 2001 Malcolm was named one of the Sydney Morning Herald's Best Young Australian novelists. He lives in Sydney with his wife Wenona, son Callum and daughter Lilian. His most recent novel, A Private Man, was critically acclaimed and was shortlisted for the Commomwealth Prize and the Tasmanian Premier’s Award.

Reviews

[Andrea · Rating 4 out of 5]

A dark, speculative tale featuring one of the 20th Century's lesser-known (at least, here in the West) monsters, Malcolm Knox's latest novel is one that I enjoyed 90% of the time (wink, wink). I'm looking forward to hearing Knox speak about it on the publicity trail in coming months, to get to the bottom of why this contemporary Australian journalist and novelist felt compelled to bring this particular story into the world.

Lavrentiy Beria. It's a name that meant nothing to me until last year when I read The Eighth Life. The funny thing is - he was never named in that novel! But it didn't take a lot of effort to discover the identity of the influential murderous rapist who loomed large in that story. Knox, however, has no compunction about both naming and providing certain details of the man's notoriety as a counterpoint to his more sympathetic, fictional character of Vasil Murtov. Here's how it goes: Beria's impoverished, widowed mother sells the family home to pay Murtov's family to adopt Beria as a school-aged child. Beria's not particularly grateful to be taken in and provided with opportunities. Instead, he forges his own path, until in 1938 - the time of this story - he is Governor of Georgia. Murtov, his oldest friend (and let's not forget, his adoptive brother), is an Assistant Secretary of the Communist Party, and his day-to-day role is to work as Beria's personal driver.

So, it's 1938 and the rumour mill indicates that The Steel One is planning a long-awaited, official return visit to his homeland of Georgia. Beria immediately starts the wheels spinning to prepare for the most perfect, lavish event, that will help to propel his own career to greater heights. But with less than 40 days to get it done, he can't afford for anything to go wrong, or for the Party machinations to get in the way. He's relying on Murtov, his first friend, to help pull off the coup of a lifetime.

As I said, I mostly 'enjoyed' this. It had moments of levity, but also scenes of utter brutality that were a little difficult to stomach. But this is not a fairy tale, and Beria's exploits shouldn't be blunted or overlooked. Murtov was a well-rounded character and I honestly wasn't sure how things were going to end up for him and his family. There were parts of the story where the pacing felt a bit off, but the final 20-25% had me feverishly turning the pages to see what would happen. A thriller in the most literal sense.

With thanks the NetGalley and Allen & Unwin for an advance copy to read and review.

[Janelle · Rating 2 out of 5]

I wanted to like this book more than I did. The other Malcom Knox book I’ve read, Bluebird, I really loved and in the beginning I thought this one was going to work too. But maybe because I’d recently rewatched The Death of Stalin, this fell flat. Similar absurdist humour (except with Australian flavoured swearing) set in the Stalinist era, in this case 1938, before Beria has moved on to Moscow. After a while it just became a trial for me to keep reading and I found myself skipping bits. So disappointing.

[Helen · Rating 4 out of 5]

Hmm, I think I must have read this book the wrong way. I’m not sure that I agree with the cover endorsement: there was little that was amusing about the horror inflicted by Beria, as told from the fictionalised account of his friend Murtov. Mass slaughter, violence, misogyny, rape, paedophilia, torture… There were many instances where I was shaking my head in incredulity at the hypocrisy of these ‘leaders’ & the dog-eat-dog power dynamics to maintain status. There were moments of levity, but it didn’t read as a comedy to me, no matter how far the label of ‘dark comedy’ can extend. Read without these labels, it is a well written & clearly well researched interpretation of a very grim period of our history. The sprinkle of Australian colloquialisms drew a possibility of this occurring not too far from our own doorstep. Sadly, it’s not much of a stretch to imagine a future world where history repeats itself in this way.

[Lisa · Rating 4 out of 5]

Longlisted for the ARA Historical Fiction Prize and the UK Walter Scott Historical Novel Prize, The First Friend by journalist, author and SMH columnist Malcolm Knox, is a black comedy starring Stalin's henchman, Lavrenty Beria and his (fictional) best friend and adopted brother Vasil Murtov.

Beria was by all accounts an evil man.  I first encountered him in The Eighth Life (for Brilka) (2014), by Georgian-born German author Nino Haratischvili, (translated by Charlotte Collins and Ruth Martin, see my review) where he is depicted as the monster he was in real life.  The Eighth Life (for Brilka) is a family saga narrated by a woman, and it centres on a woman's perspective.  The novel doesn't flinch from Beria's history as a serial rapist and paedophile, a man who was also notorious in his lifetime for his keen implementation of Stalin's purges, not to mention his own personal animosities which led to torture, executions and disappearance into the gulags.

Set in the period when Beria was Governor of Georgia, The First Friend is written from a male perspective, portraying Murtov's struggle to turn an impassive eye on the horrors that he witnesses while also trying to warn innocents in peril and to protect his family from Beria's sexual predation. 

To read the rest of my review please visit https://anzlitlovers.com/2025/10/01/t...

[Klee · Rating 5 out of 5]

"To choose one’s victims, to prepare one’s plans minutely, to slake an implacable vengeance, and then go to bed … There is nothing sweeter in the world."

The First Friend by Malcolm Knox is a dark, gripping novel that explores the sinister undercurrents of friendship, loyalty, and betrayal in the brutal world of 1938 Stalinist Soviet Union. This chilling black comedy is both a satire and a psychological thriller, where survival means walking a razor's edge. Lavrentiy Beria, the ruthless 'Boss' of the Georgian republic, prepares for an impending visit from the ultimate tyrant—Josef Stalin. Trapped in a nightmarish world of enemies and shifting allegiances, Beria spirals into paranoia, trusting no one, not even his closest friend and childhood companion, Vasil Murtov.

As Beria descends deeper into madness, Murtov, his driver and right-hand man, is forced into a deadly game of loyalty and deception, knowing that to witness the horrors around him could seal his fate. The stakes intensify as Stalin’s visit approaches, promising a massacre that could tear apart both men and their fragile facade of trust. With mounting dread, Murtov must play his own twisted game to protect his family and navigate a society where the slightest misstep leads to death. The question remains: Is Murtov manipulating Beria, or is he merely a pawn in a deadly game of survival?

This novel is so dark, incredibly bleak, with a smattering of guilty hilarity. Murtov is genuinely trapped between a rock and a hard place, and this novels captures all the terror that day to day living would have brought living in Stalin's Russia. This will not leave you with any good feels, so make sure you read this is when you are in the mood for some clever, but very stark historical fiction.

"Death eliminates all problems"

[Zaya · Rating 5 out of 5]

There was so much shocking brutality and darkness in this book. But there were also moments of ironic humour which highlighted the ridiculousness of dictatorship and the inflated ego of people in power.

In short, the book could be summarised with the phrase “It’s funny because it’s true”.

And you will feel a lot of guilt for those few moments of laughter.

[Luke · Rating 4 out of 5]

This black comedy tale set in 1938 Soviet Georgia successfully acts as a commentary on modern Australia and a cautionary tale of what might be in store. The author weaves a banquet of themes including: tall poppy syndrome, champagne socialism, identity politics, erosion of cohesion, and performative politics into a thrilling narrative, providing a captivating read 90 per cent of the time.

[David Wasley · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is great historical fiction, based largely on well researched facts. Knox is very good at depicting the background madness of the bureacracy and society of Russia in 1938.

[Kris McCracken · Rating 4 out of 5]

I knew Malcolm Knox as the bloke who used to write about cricket. Precise, laconic, occasionally caustic. So, opening “The First Friend” and finding myself in 1937 Georgia, deep in the terror years, was something else entirely. This isn’t the Knox of Test match dispatches. It’s Knox the moral satirist, dissecting tyranny with the patience of a surgeon and the nerve of someone who has stared at power too long.

The setting matters. Georgia is no backdrop here; it’s a pressure cooker. The mountains press in, the air hums with suspicion and Beria’s secret police prowl through every conversation. Stalin is still alive, Beria is rising fast, and the machinery of terror is hitting full speed. Everyone’s complicit, everyone afraid. Knox catches that atmosphere with unnerving clarity. The laughter is brittle, the wine sour, and every knock on the door could end a life.

At the heart of it is Vasil Murtov, a middling functionary whose survival depends on pleasing a man he despises. Half decent, half deluded, he believes that if he just keeps his head down, the system will somehow right itself. It won’t. What keeps him there is the same thing that keeps every moral coward in motion: fear, loyalty and love twisted into submission. His wife and daughters hover over the story, both philosophical and physical hostages. Under Beria, “philosophical” danger means being erased from history; “physical” means something far uglier. Knox never shows the violence directly, but its shadow is everywhere.

The countdown structure, 40 days to live, down to none, is brutal and brilliant. It lends the book a fatal rhythm, each chapter another tick toward the abyss. You know Murtov’s doomed, but the suspense lies in watching what part of him will die first. When he finally uses his words, his only real weapon, against the regime, it lands like a moral thunderclap.

As a Socialist, I found Knox’s treatment of ideology both faithful and scathing. He sees how the revolution curdled into bureaucratic thuggery, how the language of equality was hollowed out to serve hierarchy. I’ve always leaned towards Trotsky, who still believed in the revolutionary imagination before it was crushed under Stalin’s paranoia. Knox catches that tragedy perfectly. The air still carries the ghost of the original dream, tattered but recognisable.

When Sergo Ordzhonikidze appears, I felt a jolt of recognition and grief. Here’s a man I’ve always liked, the last of the genuine Bolsheviks, watching his own ideals collapse around him. His presence is a sad reminder of what might have been if the Party hadn’t eaten itself alive. Knox handles it with quiet dignity. No grand speech, just a sense of a good man broken by a machine he helped build.

The writing has that crisp, knowing humour I associate with good Australian journalism. Knox’s satire recalls Orwell’s moral fury, but without the sanctimony. Where Orwell sees a system of lies, Knox sees the human comedy within it: the petty jealousies, the bureaucratic self-preservation, the absurdity of people performing loyalty while terrified. There’s something of Andrey Kurkov too, that faint surrealism that bubbles up in horror. One moment you’re laughing, the next you’re sick. And "Darkness at Noon" hangs over everything, that claustrophobic sense that reason itself has been outlawed.

Knox’s attention to detail is extraordinary. The food, the landscape, the political meetings thick with cigarette smoke and coded menace; it all feels real, lived in. The novel balances historical precision with psychological bite. You feel the weight of the Party’s gaze, the exhaustion of living under permanent suspicion, the moral corrosion that comes from survival at any cost.

If there’s a flaw, it’s that the opening drags. The pace is uneven, and a few of the minor characters verge on caricature when understatement would have done more. Yet once it finds its rhythm, it’s gripping, grimly funny and entirely convincing.

The ending leaves you hollow but not hopeless. Murtov’s defiance costs him everything, yet it feels right. Beria, of course, survives to do worse. That’s history’s cruelty. Still, Knox finds something redemptive in the act of telling the truth, however briefly. Words can’t topple tyrants, but they can outlast them.

“The First Friend” is a fierce, brilliant novel; part political thriller, part moral parable, part act of remembrance. It’s bleak, humane and scathingly intelligent. Four stars.

[Anna Catherine · Rating 2 out of 5]

I’m usually a big advocate for the historical fiction novel, I have read many that are deft at educating the reader about a period and place without the reader even noticing because the plot and characters are so captivating. White Chrysanthemum and Small Things Like These instantly come to mind as examples. Unfortunately, The First Friend lacked that subtlety, the historical element outweighed the fiction element and I found myself regretting that I hadn’t picked up a biography of Beria instead. It’s a shame because I am fascinated by Soviet era Georgia and ate up The Eighth Life. In essence, this probably should have been written as a non-fiction book instead

[Stephanie Strachan · Rating 5 out of 5]

A tightly woven plot, the narrative has shades of ‘The Death of Stalin’ with some very funny moments, despite the terror and violence. Knox cleverly creates a vivid picture of pre- WWII Soviet Georgia using a contemporary Australian voice. He successfully brings the notorious monster Beria to life. A gripping read.

[Alex Murray · Rating 3 out of 5]

I was so hyped for this and in THEORY it is a cool idea - super well researched commie book with Aus slang throughout. I didn't find it as funny or tense as other reviews, the chapter titles tell you what's going to happen and it was hard to feel invested as a result.

[Sally Saunders · Rating 4 out of 5]

Took me a while to get into this book, but once I knew the characters, it was great. So funny, with many Aussie references. It is black comedy at its finest, scary to know how accurate it all is.

[Merk · Rating 4 out of 5]

Good historical read about a truly horrible character. A bit heavy going in parts but enjoyed (is that the right word?) it overall.

[Katie Snell · Rating 4 out of 5]

I really enjoyed the darkly funny but also frightening story about communist Georgia. If you enjoy books on the communist era in Russia you will really enjoy it. Others might find it too violent and confronting.

[Pip Snort · Rating 2 out of 5]

While this had potential to be interesting, it mostly wasn't and I didn't enjoy it.

[Laura · Rating 3 out of 5]

I think this book suits a certain niche group of readers but unfortunately I wasn’t one of them. Although the reviews on the back of the book said it was humourous (although darkly so) none of that really came through for me. Since I’ve also never really connected with any other Russian-like literature the issue here most likely lies with me rather than anything in the book. I can see that the author did capture the essence of the USSR in 1938 and I did find the ending rather perfect.

It was a quick, although not exactly pleasant, novel. A nice addition to other novels if you are enjoy them, I should think.

[Zoe · Rating 2 out of 5]

Honestly just watch The Death of Stalin and you get this book but waaayyyy better. I see what the author was going for, but the pacing was too slow and the characters not interesting enough to really grip me

[Jennifer (JC-S) · Rating 4 out of 5]

‘The first friend would have the last laugh.’

In his author’s note, Mr Knox writes that ‘Lavrentiy Pavlovich Beria (1899-1953) was a mass murderer of the twentieth century. As chief of security in the Soviet Union from 1938-53, the second half of Josef Stalin’s rule, Beria was a connoisseur of homicide, whether with the stroke of a pen or his bare hands. One of the keys to Beria’s survival—he outlived the dictator’s rule—was his success in surrounding himself with loyal henchmen from his home republic of Georgia.’

In this dark novel, Mr Knox imagines the final forty days of a toxic friendship between Beria and his loyal personal driver Vasil Anastasvili Murtov. After a prologue, the story unfolds over three parts set in Georgia, then Russia, and returning to Georgia.

Vasil Murtov is Lavrentiy (Lavrushya) Beria’s oldest friend. Young Lavrushya had been the son of a disgraced anti-Tsarist radical. He was taken in by Murtov’s wealthy bourgeois family and provided with an opportunity for both a better education and life. But times change, and a few decades later, Murtov’s friend is now the leader of the Georgian communist state and former chief of the secret police. He is also one of Josef Stalin’s most ruthlessly efficient functionaries.

‘Beria’s character had numerous faces, but inhabited each with total sincerity, which allowed him to knead frightened souls into the shape of his will. At events like these, when he had a roomful of terror at his feet, he was at his very best.’

Murtov has been loyal to Beria. While aware of Beria’s nature as a butcher and a notorious sexual predator, Murtov sees himself as powerless to intervene. However, as the final days of his life are being counted, he does try to protect his family.

‘The car left the compound and pulled onto the Batumi road. Murtov told himself not to panic. The question was not whether he was being kidnapped, which was a routine occurrence in the workers’ and peasants’ paradise. The question was for how long, for what purpose, and would it hurt?’
There are twists, as others intrigue and jockey for position. Beria himself is terrified when summoned to Moscow personally by Stalin:

‘That’s the best spin I can put on it,’ Beria said.
‘What’s the worst?’
‘That I will be sent to the other world.’ He regarded Murtov. ‘Don’t worry, they won’t disrespect you. You’re my first friend. They’ll shoot you too.’

Stalin is to return to Georgia for a visit, and the tension increases as Beria makes plans for the visit. Success means exploring alternate facts, and it might mean survival, failure could be fatal. And Murtov knows that his own life depends on how useful Beria finds him.

What a bleak, dark story this is. Cleverly satirical at times, a reminder of the horrors of the Stalin era, the power held by Beria and his ilk, the lives destroyed by those who became collateral damage during the power struggles at the top. Reading it is like watching a car crash in slow motion: you know what is going to happen, but you are powerless to stop it. Survival may be possible, intervention is not.

And so, the story progresses to its end. Murtov never has a chance. Is life in contemporary Russia any better?

Beria appears in another novel I read recently (‘Mother Russia’ by Bernice Rubens) and I was reminded of what a monster he was.

‘In the Soviet Union it was very easy to be disappeared. But to seize the verb from its passive form, to vanish by your own free will, was virtually impossible.’

I suspect I would have appreciated the satirical, black humour more if I believed that such happenings were confined to history, part of a dark past that will not be revisited. If only.

Jennifer Cameron-Smith

[Alan Fyfe · Rating 4 out of 5]

4.5 really - I wish this site would allow for 1/2 star qualifications. Fantastic novel, and a must read if you liked the film, Death of Stalin. It almost seems like a prequel to Death of Stalin in its concentration on the awful Lavrentiy Beria as its central subject, and vernacular tone - which follows the author's native Australian vernacular, much in the same was Death of Stalin often used a kind of U.K. vernacular tone. Not a bad thing, even if it is derivative, this makes for a novel that's fun to read while wearing its intricate research and assured story telling on its sleeve. And the narrative is a ripper: full of tension and the genuinely affecting tragedy of an ordinary Georgian family trying to survive in a horrifically paranoid system run by terrible people. It turned into absolute nightmare fuel by the third act, but built to it with subtle and engaging pace. If there was one flaw it was that the much lauded humour of First Friend was a little surface level. While there are some chuckles to be had in Stalin era officials dropping crudities with an Australian accent, Knox never rises to the level of the constructed narrative joke that builds and drops like a bomb in the way Iannucci managed in Death of Stalin, so the laughs are frequent yet small and momentary (except maybe in the case of "90%" - you'll see). A small thing to critique, though, in a book that is well worth your time. It stayed with me for many days and taught me a lot.

[Pete Markey · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is on my list of top books ever.
Such an enjoyable read that keeps getting better as you go - it's like a David Mitchell story build without the really slow beginning. I found myself reading up on the actual characters and events, also watching other movies and documentaries around this period.

Knox captures the main character so well. That he is human but actually spends a lot of his time reacting (or calculatingly not reacting) to situations. When he taps into his human side, he isn't some poet yearning to get out, but a person having normal reactions and desires to horrible situations, trying to carve out some level of control over his own environment. The people have to be straight forward as the times require it.

Knox captures the Orwellian double speak of the time, where nothing that is said means what you think. Although without the fatal punishment and torture, it relates to our time in which it can be difficult to actually say what you mean or needing to translate statements through multiple filters. Are people really your friends or is it convienent/ for advancement and protection. What is friendship?

Is the pushing on through revolution equivalent to how we integrate capitalism - it needs to keep going regardless of what is happening around us. Sacrifice yourself to keep the economy going.

[David Saloukvadze · Rating 3 out of 5]

Malcolm Knox's The First Friend is an interesting read on the 1930s Soviet Bolshevik world, using some real life characters, and drawing a fictional world in the higher echelon's of the socialist individuals in power.

Malcolm Knox' Australian roots come through in his writing, using terms of phrase such as "old mate", "yous", and "fair dinkum leader". It must have been intentional as it appears not infrequently, however, as someone with soviet roots raised in Australia, it's such a clash against the soviet backdrop, it is distracting, and jarring. I couldn't think of a reason why using these terms of phrase would embolden the story, or strengthen the writing, which it in fact inherently weakens.

The story itself and the characters seem realistic, however, events don't seem to unfold fluidly, and the story feels jagged and poorly paced.

Unsure if the main character Murtov is meant to be an inspiring hero, or a suffering nobody of the regime, either way, he reads as a passive observer who accidentally rides of the coattails of power, and accidentally receives benefits, only to be given a heroic ending by his far more formidable wife, who is the hidden heroin of the story.

It definitely has a dark humorous undertone, and is entertaining to read. It feels like it was an ambitious project written quickly and half-assed.

[Stuart McArthur · Rating 4 out of 5]

Machiavellian ghastliness

What struck me most about this book is how thoroughly in command Knox is of the terrifying world he’s imagined. It’s Game of Thrones-esque.

The bleakness he paints drips from every conversation, detail, and meandering passage of prose.

At the start it was a bit like one of those 3D pictures. I couldn’t see it. But when my focus locked in, I couldn’t not see it, in all its grim Machiavellian ghastliness. And the fealty to Stalin/Trump comparisons are too numerous to begin on.

Whether it represents how life actually was during Stalin’s purges or not, I totally bought into it.

It’s a living hell. Death would seem the better option and, in the case of the trustee woman, it was. And later Murtov and Babilina.

Life was just to be gotten through, with minimum punches landing. Happiness was a pipe dream, painful even in its calculated imagining, as Babilina attempted.

Murtov’s eyeballs were ours and his view was resigned and cynical and futile, like a tragic Chekhov antihero.

And although the plot was robust, and the deft twists at the end were clever, the impact it had on me had nothing to do with the story.
I would love to see this movie.

[Gretchen Bernet-Ward · Rating 2 out of 5]

Publicised as a time of autocrats, and reflecting on Putin’s Russia, Trump’s America, Xi’s China and of course Murdoch’s planet Earth, this book lost me at Chapter Three mainly because I just could not give a hoot about the characters. Written tongue-in-cheek in a naughty school boy way, talking behind the teacher’s back, I failed to see the appeal unless I was interested in politics and/or politically motivated enough to read between the lines. Quote “Beria came back to the Emka and handed Murtov his ‘packet’ the envelope containing a wad of roubles that Murtov received irregularly on top of his salary. The packet was triple its usual thickness, but this was neither surprising nor encouraging... the packet was one of Beria’s few gestures that meant precisely nothing.” There is so much unpleasant male posturing which means precisely nothing that I did not have the patience to work through it. My well-read Goodreads friend Ron will be able to decipher it. Perhaps I will wait for his review!

[Alex Rogers · Rating 3 out of 5]

A very interesting book, with an unusual subject - the horror of Stalinist Russia, or to be precise, the soviet state of Georgia under Lavrenty Beria, as narrated by his "friend" and personal assistant. Its a very dark tale, from very dark times, and Knox was successful in conveying the all-pervasive surveillance, the creeping terror, the awful logic of autocratic states. It is a success in that aspect - using art / fiction to convey the reality of life under a psychopathic dictator, and how people survive it (or not).

Can't say I particularly enjoyed it though - the characters d terrible things to survive, and while I empathized with some of them, I didn't like or connect with any of them, and didn't really care about what happened to them, so felt a bit disengaged. Overall, an interesting read and a good portrayal of life at the time - and anyone watching the slide of the USA towards authoritarianism might be interested to have a read... but its not much fun.

[Penni B · Rating 5 out of 5]

Great book, loved it! Although, like others here, I wouldn't agree with the cover blurb that it's a comedy. It has some blackly comic moments (along with amusing turns of phrase), but 'The First Friend' is historical fiction (with relevance to todays' 'strongman' politics and their enablers), a political thriller and a character study,
In fact, there's more than one character study: there's Beria (real) and then Murtov (invented). For most of the book I wasn't sure if Murtov was a good guy or a bad one. His inner life and motivations are only gradually revealed - and a major theme of this book is the tension of keeping your real thoughts and feelings hidden under a repressive and capricious regime.
Knox ackowledges a debt to 'The Death of Stalin' and the contemporary turns of phrase add an immediacy. There's no cliched "Comrade" speech here, but a cleverly evoked sense of life under Stalin and the Politburo, with characters and situations that keep you guessing.

[Jane Messer · Rating 5 out of 5]

I loved The First Friend, which is an historical novel, but one very much for our times. I quickly settled into the viperish culture that the middle-aged Mertov lives within in this post WW2 Stalinist Russia. There was a point at which I started to feel almost infected myself by the whole way of Stalinist life, how Stalin and Stalinism had weaseled its way into each and every soul, the constant surveillance and self-surveillance, the 'who' and the 'whom' - brilliant - the incredible numbers of purged.
It's a remarkable achievement: to create a novel through which we can experience our 'now' through its 'then', one which is both deadly serious but also comedic.
There are many dislikeable characters in the novel - they were difficult times - but the gentle Mertov and especially his wife Babalina reprise all the darkest moments in the novel. Babalina, somehow, keeps herself (and him, so far as she can) apart and managers to save her soul and that of their daughters.

[Daniel Rees · Rating 5 out of 5]

The First Friend tells the story of a very real villain in the form of Beria, but also his fictional best friend Murtov. The year is 1938 and Beria, Governor of Georgia is preparing for a state visit from the head of the USSR, Stalin. The plot is filled with twists, turns and back-stabbing as we follow Beria's preparations for Stalin's state visit, and how Murtov is dragged into the political farce that ensues.

The First Friend is a whirlwind of emotions ranging from hilariously funny in places to sinister and dark in others. I loved how the main characters were developed, especially the Murtov family, which leads to a poignant and emotional ending that you can't help but cheer for. The unique storyline and creative storytelling in The First Friend make this novel a must-read and a front-runner to win this years Walter Scott Prize for Historical Fiction.

[Frumenty · Rating 4 out of 5]

Immensely entertaining. Knowing what I did of the career of Lavrenty Beria, I would have thought that fiction about him could never be other than deeply depressing, but Knox has dispelled that idea.
His Beria is no less of a criminal than the historical Beria, but Knox has created a character who elicits a little reluctant sympathy for his dire circumstances and a little grudging admiration for his grit and resourcefulness. No small achievement!
Knox writes unapologetically in informal Australian speech. Incongruous as it may seem to find words such as 'dinkum' and 'drongo' in fiction about 1930s Bolshevism in Georgia, it works because like the water in which fishes swim it is so familiar that it is scarcely noticed. I do wonder how the novel will be received by readers who are not Australians. To them, I suspect, it will appear bizarre.

[Darren Lott · Rating 4 out of 5]

I am not sure how to review this novel. A big fan of Knox but this book is very different. As a novel of pure imagination it is brilliant despite being based on a real factual character but why. Why so extreme? Dark, funny but I wonder why he wrote it? What was the inspiration? Often you glean something about the world from a fictional novel and often you also gain an understanding of the authors thoughts but I am puzzled as to what this says. I could lay out some ideas but I will leave it to others.