Noah spends his nights drifting between North London pubs and music venues, and his days sleeping off hangovers in the stock room of the floundering record shop where he works. He tries not to think about what will happen when his NHS-allocated therapy hours run out and he's left alone with his mind again. After years away, his favourite band Smiling Politely announce a last-minute set in a nearby venue and everything starts to shift. When the crowd turns violent, Noah runs into the street and meets Dylan, the charming local barman he's never had the courage to approach. Pulled into a toxic and co-dependent relationship with Dylan and his brooding, enigmatic friend Fraser, Noah bounces distractedly between sweaty gigs and clubs, swapping beds and friends along the way. The upcoming Smiling Politely album is a beacon of hope for Noah who craves the connection he finds in their music yet lacks elsewhere, but he has to ask himself what he's willing to lose – friendships, dignity, even his sense of self – to just feel like he belongs. "A sweaty, sticky mosh pit of a novel" - i-D
“At any given moment, I have no idea what’s true about any of us.”
The Arena of the Unwell is a gritty and exhilarating exploration of loneliness and longing, obsession and jealousy, queerness and male intimacy.
tw: self-harm & suicidal ideation
Our narrator is Noah, a 22-year-old gay man who lives in London. He works in a record shop, shares a place with his best friend, and spends most of his nights exploring North London’s indie music scene, getting increasingly drunk at venues and pubs. He’s seeing a counsellor but knows that his NHS allocated hours are running out and soon enough he will be left alone to cope with his debilitating self-hatred and depression. His two closest friends are not only together romantically but they have a band together, and Noah, feeling that he’s being left behind, spirals into self-destructiveness. One night, after a venue with his favorite band, the enigmatic Smiling Politely turns awry, Noah seeks refuge outside where Dylan, a charismatic barman from Australia, comes to his aid. When he starts getting to know Dylan, who is a couple of years older than him, he sees him as a cure to the overwhelming emptiness that has become increasingly hard to keep at bay. His infatuation with Dylan is complicated by the fact that Dylan is ‘straight’ and by his living arrangements: Dylan lives with Fraser, an incredibly mercurial man who doesn’t take kindly to Noah ‘inserting’ himself into their lives. Noah becomes entangled in their very toxic relationship but soon finds his attraction to Dylan shifting to Fraser. As Noah spends more of his time with them, getting drunk and high, neglecting his mental health and physical wellbeing, he finds himself alienating the people in his life. His friends try in vain to reach out but Noah is unwilling or unable to ‘lean’ on them. Eventually, his dishevelled appearance and tardiness get him in trouble at work, and Noah finds himself crashing at Dylan and Fraser’s place. Noah becomes wholly consumed by their relationship, to the point where he compromises himself to belong with them. He becomes a participant in the unhealthy cat-and-mouse dynamic between Dyland and Fraser. Their volatile relationship and living situation do not make for a good environment, as they seem to enable each other to engage in harmful behaviours. Konemann renders with heart-wrenching lucidity Noah’s vulnerabilities, his yearning to fit in, to be loved and to belong. He also captures with brutal intensity Noah’s his anxiety, his self-hatred and his self-harming, without ever romanticising his spiralling mental health. We see how difficult it is for Noah to rid himself of the deep-seated and poisonous belief that he doesn’t matter, that he is worthless, a non-entity. We also see how this deeply affects him in his day-to-day life, and how careless he is with his own safety and wellbeing. Both Dylan and Fraser use him, ignoring all of the warning signs that point to Noah’s ‘unwellness’. They never really let Noah in, keeping him in the dark about the true nature of their relationship, nor are they honest about their intentions with him, hell, sometimes they do not even consider him at all. Once again Noah finds himself an outsider, a witness to the jealousies and manipulations running between Dylan and Fraser. His alcohol and drug consumption lends a murky quality to many portions of his narration and further adds to the gritty atmosphere of the story. His unreliable, often unintentionally so. His self-deception becomes a dangerous coping mechanism, and he can survive only by ignoring his problems and current circumstances. There is a sense of unease permeating much of the story, so I was never able to let my guard down, always worried about people’s nefarious intentions’ toward Noah or Noah’s own self-sabotaging. The author articulates with painful precision the anguish, desperation, and loneliness in Noah, and my heart really went out to him. I could really relate to him, and his conviction that he doesn't really fit in with the queer community. This story is less of a coming of age than a coming undone. The indie music scene serves as a backdrop to Konemann’s troubling character study, which really adds to the novel’s edgy atmosphere. The fraught and disconcerting relationship between Noah and these two older men brought to mind Barbara Vine’s urban tales of psychological suspense (The House of Stairs, Grasshopper). Like Vine, Konemann has given his narrative a very nostalgic vibe, one that doesn’t see the past through rose-tinted lenses, quite the contrary. I also appreciated the thorny exploration of queer desire, and how he underlines how dangerous it is to become wholly consumed by someone you love, to the point where you are cutting yourself off from everyone and everything else. While music is an undeniable component in Noah’s narrative, Smiling Politely serve a rather underwhelming function in the story. Noah’s chapters are interrupted now and again by articles or snippets of interviews with two of the band’s members, Ryan and Claire, and these were kind of unnecessary. They would have made more sense if the band, or at least their music, would have played a bigger role in the story, but they don't. I also would have liked Isaac to be given more page time, at least before Noah becomes wholly obsessed with Dylan/Fraser. The finale was slightly a bit too rushed, but I appreciated the realistic note things ended on. I would definitely read more by Konemann and when I next feel like getting emotionally sucker-punched I will be giving this a re-read for sure. I loved Noah’s compelling voice (ragazzo mio !), the vivid descriptions (of often very grotty & sweaty places), and the realistic dialogues (from the small talk, to the banter and the arguments). Throughout the course of the story, Konemann presents his readers with an uncompromising interrogation of the contradicting and often obscure nature of love and desire. The jealousies, lies, manipulations, and small acts of cruelty add complex shades to his portrayal of love, affection, intimacy, and desire. While in many ways Noah’s narration is limited by his naïveté, his social commentary is interspersed by whip-smart observations and wry assessments that often serve as sources of levity. There are also moments of euphoria that starkly contrast against the novel’s darker themes. I would definitely recommend this to fans of Caroline O'Donoghue's work, as both Promising Young Women and Scenes of a Graphic Nature feature self-destructive main characters becoming entangled in unhealthy dynamics & toxic relationships. The gritty nostalgia in The Arena of the Unwell made me think of Elizabeth Hand, specifically Wylding Hall and Generation Loss. Anyway, I inhaled this novel in less than 24 hours (it really served as a distraction to a particularly sh*tty shift). It was a gripping and heart-wrenching read, one that I won't forget anytime soon.
It's heartening to see so many new queer books representing the complexity and many different forms of gay experience. The protagonist of debut novel “The Arena of the Unwell” is Noah, a 20-something North Londoner who is into indie music and feels “I'm a pretty sub-standard gay – not quite up to date on the culture and customs. I missed that part of my education.” He's one of many gay men that don't necessarily identify with the predominant gay culture. Though his closest friend and flatmate is a lesbian named Mairead, most encounters he has with the gay community seem to be coincidental. He doesn't go to gay bars or engage on gay social media/hookup apps. As such he seems to feel an increased sense of alienation and has few opportunities for romantic encounters. This adds to his existing issues to do with depression, low self-worth, alcohol abuse and lack of motivation. So when two slightly older men show interest in Noah he becomes intimately involved and entangled in their lives. Unfortunately it turns out to be a much more fraught relationship and complex situation than he imagined.
I sympathize with Noah's situation, but unfortunately I didn’t really like him. I certainly don’t always have to like the protagonists I read about. But I grew increasingly frustrated and bored by this novel as Noah is caught in a continuous cycle of disaffection, drinking and inertia. Though he has a number of people in his life who want to help and support him when he's having a hard time, he continuously bats away their offers or ignores them. This is a natural response from someone with very low self esteem, but he also fails to engage in other people's lives in a way which might allow him to feel more connected and gain a sense of community. Though his friend Mairead and his father are clearly struggling with their own issues we learn little about their situations. Instead, the narrative solely focuses on Noah's point of view and seems to take it for a given that the reader will like him. Though I recognized that he was wrestling with a number of issues and has the common self-centredness of the young, I grew annoyed with him as a character and how he refuses any opportunities to positively change his situation. Moreover, there's a kind of pretension about how he withdraws from society where he admits “I am 'convalescing'. Alternatively, 'drowning my sorrows'. Sulking, but in an artistic sort of way.” While this is someone who feels quite real the main issue I have with the book is that the author doesn't explore the dynamics of Noah's plight in a way that shows the character gaining any sense of self-awareness. Instead, the story seems structured in a way where the fault lies entirely with the two men who draw them into their twisted (and frankly baffling) co-dependency.
Noah, an inexperienced queer guy whose biggest relationship so far has been his obsession with a cult indie band, finds himself getting caught up in the complicated, toxic dynamic between flatmates Dylan and Fraser. The Arena of the Unwell is a coming-of-age novel (of sorts) that revels in an authentically grimy portrait of the indie music scene while also skilfully handling the subject of mental health. It’s one of those cleverly written books wherein the flaws – a certain narrative bagginess; Noah, as a character, sometimes seeming a bit empty – are, in fact, things that fit quite well into the story (it’s baggy because Noah doesn’t really know what he’s doing, and he seems distant from the reader because he’s depressed). Evocative in a semi-hypnotic way, and a little like Boy Parts in that it made me feel glad I’m too old for the characters’ lifestyle. PS: if you enjoyed this you have to read Joel Lane’s From Blue to Black.
4.5 stars - Great coming of age book. I loved the complexity of the characters and the development of the story. Still not sure which character had the most red flags tho.
The queer ‘High Fidelity’?! Perhaps… but a whole lot darker and toxic.
I really liked this book.
However, I think your level of engagement with the story will depend on it’s level of relatability for you.
For me, there’s so much of my 20s in here… hazy nights in London (Camden, Shoreditch and Soho), the indie scene, the bars and clubs, the eventual fake and often toxic relationships with the ‘friends’ you make out of that party scene…
Konemann’s prose is not particularly stylish or refined, but the book is extremely readable and difficult to put down (I found), wanting to find out what happened next in the lives of his 20-something, seemingly going-nowhere, party kids.
It’s intrinsically London.
A solid 4 stars from me, possibly based on nostalgia.
I loved this so much the day after I finished it I had to start reading it again from the beginning. I can't remember the last time I did that. Raw, hot, queer, sad and gorgeous. I adored it.
The Arena of the Unwell is a novel about a music-loving guy in London who is drawn into a toxic relationship with two older guys in the music scene. Noah is twenty-two, works in a record shop (when he can force himself to be awake there), spends his nights at gigs and pubs, and is coming to the end of his allocated therapy sessions. After he and his friend Mairead go to a secret comeback gig by their favourite band Smiling Politely, Noah runs into Dylan, a bartender he's wanted to approach for ages. Soon, Noah is drawn into the complicated relationship between Dylan and his flatmate Fraser, and as everything else falls apart around him, Noah is drawn into a co-dependent world, all as Smiling Politely prepare to release their first album in years.
I really enjoyed Konemann's non-fiction book The Appendix, but I was particularly drawn to this book from the premise, particularly the promise of it being suffused with a grimy indie music scene, and that did not disappoint. Though the actual band in the book are at arms' length, as we see them through interviews and news coverage as Noah would, the book feels deeply part of the music world, and in how important to basically all elements of Noah's life this is, from work to fun to friends to love. The offhand comments and jokes (like Mairead's girlfriend and Noah's coworker Jenny having been an emo) really build up a picture, and one that makes you both want to be at a gig and really not, seeing as Noah isn't exactly using music in a healthy way a lot of the time.
The book is told from Noah's first person perspective, with the previously mentioned press snippets about Smiling Politely intercut (I very much enjoyed that these were often cut off like real news sites if you weren't a paying member). As a lot of the book is about mental health and a toxic relationship, it can be intense, but also funny. The relationships between Noah, Fraser, and Dylan are really well depicted, with the reader able to feel each cutting moment and see how they were hurting each other. I really enjoy books that do co-dependent, messed up relationships well, and this is a great example, and being from Noah's perspective meant you saw how much he started to ignore everyone else when he really needed them.
A really notable element of the book is the depiction of queerness in the indie scene, whether that's Noah trying to navigate the fact all the bands are singing about women they think wronged them, his repeated belief that he can't fit into any gay world because he doesn't fit in, or the hints of how the music scene shown has more space for guys who are apparently straight but maybe down for something with a guy than actual queer people. Queerness is just part of the novel, and that feels refreshing and not something I've seen in this kind of genre (though, admittedly, I'm not sure what kind of genre it is—music scene novel?).
A coming of age novel for people who like or came of age themselves deeply into music, The Arena of the Unwell spirals the reader into not only sticky floors and spilt pints, but a hard-to-put-down toxic relationship amidst the realities of NHS cuts for mental health services. It puts you on the streets of Camden and leaves you with a sense of what might have changed or stayed the same since the earlier heyday of indie bands.
this book takes what it is to exist on the edge of things, never truly present or part of life, and transforms it into a tale of sexuality, mental health and general life. just like this voyeuristic sense of the novel, the plot and character, unfortunately, also fall into this. never truly addressing ideas can be a comment on the normality of mh and the normalising of inaccessible support. unfortunately, however, this novel seems to fall a little flat as a result - more of a character study but when the character just cycles through themselves.
to exist for yourself is what this book whispers - to try and feel the emotions and feel the self without muting
Raced through this in a day to have it read in time for book club. I was dreading reading it because I thought I’d find little to relate to within its alternative music backdrop, but found the novel to exceed the dregs of my expectations and, despite its flaws, to be an interesting exploration of queer non-belonging and neuroses in the indie scene. I could empathise with Noah the protagonist’s mentality and mental health to an extent, and thought the way the author interspersed chapters with excerpts relating to his favourite band, ‘Smiling Politely’ (whose fates and fortunes join and juxtapose with his own), achieved a poignant pay-off. That being said, Konemann’s portrayal of the toxic central love triangle is a bit one-note, long-winded and repetitive; cheapened by the narrative’s reliance on coincidentally overheard/overseen conversations and interactions.
Gritty, gripping and sexy. Three words I never thought could describe a book but wow. I’m quite a slow reader but blasted through this in a few days - I just couldn’t put it down.
Apologies to the people on the tube that saw me crying at various points!
Buy this book and immerse yourself in Noah’s gay world of indie sleaze.
The exploration of depression and mental health came across a bit shallow and "YA-ish" for my taste, but nevertheless I still found myself engaged in the story and I quite appreciated the depiction of the main character's flaws and emotions. While it might not quite live up to its ambition, it remains a very readable and promising debut. 8/10
I loved the author's mini book in the 404 Press Pocket series and was expecting to love this. It was okay, good in the first half or so, then fell apart. Feels like the author was trying to do a few things and not quite committing enough to any of them; the obvious parallels between Noah and Ryan fell a bit flat or too on the nose, the meandering lack of plot okay until the plot suddenly picks up at the end, making you wonder if it was deliberate. Konemann writes with humour, but needs to work on dialogue. Some of the dialogue (and honestly, self-harm descriptions) came off as Wattpad-eqsue. I also feel like for a character study, I don't feel like the characters developed much from page one to page 300. Reasonably two dimensional.
I'd definitely read the next book he writes (if there's another) as it feels like there's potential for a great, gritty novelist! Just not quite right for me this time.
I loved this book. That could be the whole review right there. I think this is the very first time I've ever seen a proper alt-queer protagonist in a novel. Or at least, one that feels authetic and true. This sort of representation is something that I'm passionate about and it's something that I'm addressing in my novel, but with mine, it's doing for metal and grunge what this one does for Indie and Britpop. Noah is just such a fantastically chaotic mess, and it's written so beautifully and so lovingly that you can't help but cheer him on, even as he's doing one incredibly stupid thing after another. Seriously, it's hilarious, with even the bleak darkness being injected with this quirky pitch black humour. It's also set in and around Camden in London, which is where I used to live, so I knew every street, every shop and bar and pub and venue, and I also know the people that he's writing about too, the denizens of that particular part of London. This is an exhilarating exploration of longing, obsession, and male intimacy. It's a downward spiral of emptiness and devastation, and yet I can't remember the last time I read something that was this fun to read. It's just so incredibly readable. Honestly, go in knowing as little as possible and just allow yourself to get swept away. It made me so happy to see that part of my world written about so lovingly. Highly recommended.
I genuinely just really enjoyed reading this book. Did all of the characters annoy me at some point? Absolutely, but the mistakes they made along the way were human, and it felt completely raw and I absolutely loved that.
This debut novel by Liam Konemann just didn’t live up to expectations I’m afraid.
Described by the cover review as a “sweaty sticky mosh pit of a novel”, I was immediately intrigued. However, while it had its moments, it just wasn’t nearly as brutal, emotive or gritty as I thought it would be.
Needed more fleshing out, there was brilliant build up in the first half, even up until the last third or so of the book. But the final chapters just seemed to pull the rug out from under you. An all too abrupt ending for characters and relationships that, in my opinion, had so much more to give. Not just those of the main trio, but also those of Noah’s best friends, and even his boss were all in need of expansion.
Eu, assim como o personagem principal, também coloco toda a expectativa de dias melhores e minha vontade de viver na esperança de ver minhas bandas favoritas ao vivo
Self destructive behaviours, choosing to cycle back to people and places you know are absolutely detrimental to you, and being gay but not gay enough. Gut wrenching read knowing someone is out there, living this exact life.
'Sometimes it helps to know that you're part of a lineage, even if it's something poseur-y and kind of toxic. I am not the first person to feel this way and try to make it look good.'
Well shit. An easy five stars. So many emotions !!! You know when you finish a book but you wish it just kept going on? Not in a ‘this story shouldn’t have finished here’ or a disappointing ending kind of way, just in a ‘I desperately want to read more about these people’ way.
I’m blown away by the writing style and the incredible little world created that totally captivated me from the first page. I’ll be thinking about it for a long time. Hot and queer and devastating, with a healthy dose of humour and hating tories. Pls read x
Gay. Mess. This needed a reworking did it want to be a YA story with partying and drugs and boys? Did it want to be a grungy atmospheric book with good prose? Did it want to be a thriller about a toxic three way relationship? It kind of had a bit of all but not enough at the same time. Really enjoyed the last 100 pages though despite its tonal disparities.
“I dance by myself because it doesn’t matter.” I really loved Liam Konemann’s debut novel The Arena of the Unwell, about self-destruction and mental illness, fandom and live music, and the complex inner lives of a bunch of terrible queer people. “We’re all walking wounded”, Noah says of himself and the two men, Fraser and Dylan, with whom he’s involved in some strange kind of psychosexual triangle; his intermittent ability to understand exactly how he is just as hurt as everyone else, coupled with fairly distressing spirals into self-loathing and despair, make him an interesting, layered protagonist — so too the way he is constantly on the outside, of being a gay man (“I’m a pretty sub-standard gay”), of (mental) healthcare (“The system just isn’t built for neurotic queers”), of sex and relationships in general, frequently acting like a voyeur while also worrying what that says about him. This is a difficult novel, perhaps, for anyone who has suffered from mental ill health, depression, self-harm, or suicidal ideation; I think such difficulty arises largely from its palpable psychological realism, Noah being a believable and perfectly realised character. “She must think something really awful has happened to me. It feels like it has, but the awful thing is just myself. I'm what's happened to me.” I loved the other side of the novel too, the frequent asides into the tragedy of Noah’s favourite band, Smiling Politely, and its lead singer; the brilliant title of the novel is shared with the title of the band’s forthcoming album, and seems to take on a multitude of meanings as the novel progresses. So excited to read whatever Konemann puts out next.
This was one of those impulse purchases based solely on hearing it was good.
This is the story of Noah, a young gay man living in London. He likes to go out, see ‘Indie’ (yes inverted commas as Indie is not a music style and it bothers me) bands, get drunk, take drugs, not use dating apps or go to gay bars, and not take his medication. He gets involved with a (very slightly) older couple with a strange and toxic dynamic. And his favourite band, Smiling Politely) are making a comeback and he’s really excited.
Here’s what I liked: it was very readable. I started reading it immediately (not for any great impatience but rather convenience) and I read over half in one sitting; I finished it off the next day. I don’t know if this was specifically this book, or I just had a good reading day because sometimes I find it hard to read a lot. It has good queer, but not necessarily positive, representation (Mairead, yes; Dylan and Fraser, no).
What I liked less: it’s a little… amateur. Now, I’m not saying I can write a better book but there was a distinct feeling of ‘first novel’. You know, when things are a bit over-explained and the author shows too much of themselves and their personality instead of the characters’. And, I’ll preface this by saying I KNOW depression/anxiety are crippling and they may not be ‘a good reason’ but in a novel… I need a bit more of him helping himself otherwise the character doesn’t come across as sympathetic, only whiny. Also, I felt that the Smiling Politely part of the story, although well-integrated through press releases and interviews, etc., was not well developed enough for the conclusion to really affect me – it was all happening at a distance.
This is one of those books that reads like YA yet the characters are older and the storylines are a little more adult. I think that’s what’s meant by ‘New Adult’, no? It was an easy read, I got through it quickly, if it sounds like your kind of thing, go ahead; if not it’s not one I’ll recommend.
Not quite the book I was expecting. Very much following in the tradition of twenty-somethings losing direction and having a crisis. Think 'Withnail and I...'* or perhaps Josh Thomas' 'Please Like Me'.
It's funny and well written but in the latter half devolves into a series of things that just seem to happen because something has to happen. Maybe that's the point though. Between that, an ending that feels shoved in and some heavy-handed metaphors, the book just fell a bit flat for me.
With all that being said, there are some truly harrowing and very realistic descriptions of addiction throughout. Noah's seeming obliviousness to his addictive personality is extremely true to life. On top of that, the feeling of ennui cultivated as a result of these issues is shown for what it is; in all of its non-glamour.
*I'm half-certain that the book's title is indeed a reference to 'Withnail and I...' https://youtu.be/YQ7MdCsFiMk
this had, in my eyes, the most real, unfiltered and related representation of anxiety and depression i’ve read in quite a while, maybe ever. i felt seen and really connected to noah when reading the internal monologues of spiraling thoughts. really felt like i experienced living in london through the book’s many descriptions of commuting to bars of pubs. unfortunately i just didn’t care about the music scene aspect of the plot, and skipped all the band interviews and announcement bits, but that’s just because that’s not why i decided to pick this book up. but it was interesting nonetheless to be introduced into this scene and industry, and what better to do it than through a queer narrative.
At times, I really loved this book. Such an easy read and follow along with. When I first moved to London, I moved to Kentish Town, so the book struck a nice, familiar cord with me. At times, I struggled with Noah as a character, I felt as though I couldn't root for him? I struggled to empathise with him and his decisions at times, and this is more so the author's fault - how the hell did he survive in London all those months without a job? Yes money struggles were mentioned but how did he buy food with absolutely no income coming in? As I was nearing towards the end, I struggled to see how this book would finish, and when it ended I was surprised. This isn't necessarily a bad thing, I think I just wanted the story to continue a bit more as the ending felt rushed.