The First Friend by Malcolm Knox is a dark and sadly relevant exploration of power, loyalty, and moral compromise in an age of creeping authoritarianism and the return of strongman politics.
Set in the Soviet Union in 1938, the novel centres on Lavrentiy Beria, then governor of Georgia, as he prepares for a visit by Joseph Stalin.
It’s Beria’s worst nightmare. It’s Stalin’s first visit to his homeland in a decade. Obviously, nothing can go too wrong, because that means death. But does he want the visit to be a success? Absolutely not. He must impress “The Shining Sun Of The Soviet Country, And More Than the Sun, For the Sun Lacks Wisdom” on the visit, but not so much that Stalin – or worse, members of his Politburo – see him as competent. Because that also means death.
The story follows Vasil Murtov, Beria’s “first friend” and a quiet, unassuming man, in the lead up to Stalin’s visit. Technically Beria’s adoptive brother, Murtov has known him since childhood, when Beria’s impoverished mother paid Murtov’s wealthy bourgeois family to take in her sharp, ambitious son for a shot at a better life. Murtov and Beria grow up together and then, as young men, join the Russian Revolution. That’s when the dynamics flip. Beria begins to rise to power, while Murtov – despite being a Revolutionary – will always be associated with his former privileged class, with a target on his back. His connection to Beria provides a (fragile) measure of safety, but also keeps him in constant danger, mostly from the psychopathic Beria himself.
Billed as a black comedy in the vein of The Death of Stalin, Knox masterfully weaves historical fact with creative fiction, creating a narrative that is simultaneously horrific and entertaining. He creates an Orwellian world steeped in absurdity, double-speak and open hypocrisy.
The plot follows Murtov's efforts to keep his head down and protect his family as the tension builds towards Stalin's impending visit. Given the book starts with Murtov’s death, and the chapters count down how many days he has left to live, the ending is no surprise. Yet Knox masterfully keeps the reader guessing where the chips will fall, delivering unexpected twists along the way.
Time itself is divided into “Pre” and “Post” Revolution, with these terms repurposed as verbs and nouns. “Pres” grumble about “Posts” who have no idea what they’ve gone through. Meanwhile people are casually referred to as being “cancelled”. The book is witty, meticulously researched, and brimming with dark satire in true Russian literary fashion.
Yet The First Friend isn’t an easy read. It captures the horrific violence and cruelty of the Soviet Union under Stalin – and Beria’s role in that. In real life Beria was so horrific he was purged by the Soviets soon after Stalin’s death. Knox doesn’t shy away from those elements of Beria’s reign – paedophilia, rape, and torture are openly alluded to, though mostly kept off the page. More broadly, the book certainly captures the tension and paranoia that permeated the Soviet Union, and that even those closest to power lived in constant fear, playing an endless game of 3D chess for survival.
The First Friend would be far more enjoyable if it wasn’t so relevant. Authoritarianism has new admires in the present age and loyalty is the favoured test over competence. Knox’s book serves as a timely and unsettling reminder that the real-life perils of unchecked power are anything but relics of the past, even in democracies.
The First Friend by Malcolm Knox, Allen and Unwin (2024)
