An exquisite slow-burn forbidden love story, laced with passion and faith
Rome, 1953. David is young, handsome, charismatic, and sworn to celibacy. He is freshly ordained, and about to return to England to begin life as a priest. Devotion to God is all he’s ever known, and all he thinks he ever will.
In London, Margaret is entangled in an impossible love affair. Increasingly drawn to the Church, she sets out to join the new revolutions of sex and faith.
Decades later, she is being cared for by her grandson, who has just discovered the strange truth of his family history.
Stephanie Sy-Quia’s A Private Man is a stunning story of devotion and sacrifice, and of the consequences of our actions that ripple throughout generations.
We begin this beautiful novel with the discovery of a family secret. Adrian learns of his grandparent's unconventional romance at the funeral of his great uncle. As he begins caring for his elderly grandmother, whose mind is increasingly being lost to dementia, he tries to discover the true story behind their marriage. It is shocking but ultimately a story of real love.
This is an incredibly moving book, which is based on the history of the author's own grandparents. It absolutely took my breath away at times. The prose is lyrical and evocative. Margaret and David's story is not sensationalised, it is simply the story of two people who, despite their circumstances and love of their faith, could not see a life without the other one in it.
An absolutely beautiful book that I would highly recommend.
There are some difficult themes discussed, including domestic violence, abortion and religion. They are dealt with sensitively.
Thankyou very much to Netgalley and Grove Atlantic for the advance review copy. Very much appreciated.
Thank you Netgalley for the advanced copy of this book for review.
This is a really beautiful and realistic love story between a Catholic priest and a progressive teacher in the 1960s (and beyond). The first part of the book tells about David and Margaret's young lives before they meet, and the second part it after they meet and eventually fall in love.
The language in this story is absolutely stunning and is truly an ode to life and all it's intricacies. So much attention was paid to the sensorial details of these characters' experiences, particularly touch between humans and the love of food and art, that it made me want to run outside and feel the sun on my skin and contemplate the joys of life while eating my favorite fruit.
The love story was a wonderful slow burn, but more than that I loved just getting to know David and Margaret. They were such captivating and lovely characters in their own ways, always giving themselves to make a better world and to love people in the ways they know how (David with his priesthood and Margaret with her "social justice"). I particularly gravitated towards Margaret and her ever-questioning philosophy on societal norms. I was enraptured by all of the discourse on what it means to love people and to fulfill one's calling in life; I love a book with subtle philosophical undertones that really open my mind.
I can't wait until this is published and will definitely be ordering a copy for my library.
This is such a beautiful and unique story about a love between a priest and a progressive teacher. It’s secretive and the pace of the book is great, but I really enjoyed getting to know David and Margaret as people and that’s what kept me hooked as I read. I related a lot to her character and I loved the way this story spans time so we can see how things started and turned out. This is a book that takes place in the past but is still relevant today. I received an advance review copy for free, and I am leaving this review voluntarily.
The hammer will surely fall on her for this, lay teacher Margaret Bendelow, one of the two principals in Stephanie Sy-Quai’s disquieting “A Private Man,” thinks as she casts restraint to the wind and goes on to enlighten her age-20ish Catholic female students about the facts of life after drawing blankness from them with a reference of hers to “ejaculate.” They’re ignorant of their own plumbing, she says of them to her priest colleague and lover-to-be, David Fletcher, who’s aghast at what she’s done – this will come back to bite you, he says – while at the same time he’s struck anew by her captivating forthrightness, a particularly dramatic instance of which he witnesses at a pub when she fires back at a homophobic acquaintance of David’s brother, Ralph, when the bigot says that he dreaded to think what homosexuals did in bed. “Then don’t,” she responds, adding that she didn’t care to imagine what he did in bed either, and further disconcerting him – it sends him off in a huff – by saying that, besides, many couples use anal sex as a way of avoiding pregnancy. “Where on Earth did you come from,” a bemused Ralph asks her in the bar incident, showing the same enchantment with her frankness that David feels in hearing about her outspokenness at the school, even as he’s fearful about what the school episode will bring. A warranted fear, as it turns out, with how no sooner is she back at school, where word of the incident has spread like wildfire, than she is summoned by her superior, Sister Augusta. How dare she do what she did, Margaret is scolded as she tries to make a case for herself, saying that she believes that “if Catholicism is to be a vivifying force in our society, in the future, then what is needed is for its women to have a high degree of self-knowledge.” But for all the immediacy of Margaret’s declaration, this being 1963 and progressivism much in the air, Sister Augusta isn’t having it. “What you believe,” she says with a look like thunder, “is not the question,” and she proceeds to tell Margaret that she’ll be terminated and David, whose liaison with Margaret has become known, will be transferred. Still, for all the clear distress that Catholicism makes for Margaret, how it will go on to have an unsettling impact on her for the rest of her life, she understands its appeal, with how it makes for sublimating oneself to something “so much larger, something ancient and unbroken, its acoustics ringing through you.” And indeed a running concern of the novel is this duality of the Church whereby it can be a source of great comfort for its adherents while also being an occasion for great distress in their lives, particularly about sexuality. A particularly disturbing instance of the latter, for instance, is the account David gives to Margaret about an incident from his school days when two boys, one older and one younger, had been caught “doing things” and a Father Porter at the school (surely not coincidental, his sharing the name of the real-life sexual abuser) calls the older boy before a school assembly and after making it clear without actually saying it exactly what the boys had done (the worm in the rose, the rot which needed to be rooted out, he proclaims about their behavior), has the boy drop his pants (oh, no, thinks Margaret) and has a colleague thrash the boy’s bare buttocks with a whip ten, twenty, thirty times, having the boys in the assembly keep count as the spectacle clearly proves sexually transporting for Porter. All of which was particularly germane for me, with my having been raised Catholic but finally turning away from the Church precisely for its obsession about sexuality, with the final stone for me being when the Newman chaplain at my college, inflamed with parochial zeal, pictured two imaginary young people headed for hell or purgatory, I forget which, after they’d been necking in an automobile and were unable to make it to confession before being killed in a car crash. (Mary Gordon’s “There Your Heart Lies,” situated in the Spanish Civil War, is particularly good on the Church’s obsession with sex, with its protagonist saying at one point, “it was always something sexual they were cruel about. They didn’t care what you did, you could kill someone while you were driving drunk, you could beat your wife to a pulp, and they’d be oh so ready with forgiveness. But some poor wretch of a kid gets pregnant – they’d shame her until she wanted to die.”) A fast, even riveting read, in short, Sy-Quai’s novel, especially for active or lapsed Catholics, even if its lyrical prose which made for especially pleasurable reading for me most of the time could also on occasion elude specific meaning for me (“our work is the unfolding of souls,” say). Also, I’m not sure if the novel’s somewhat convoluted structure, which alternates between the present, when Margaret is being visited by her grandson, and the past, when the affair is at its most intense, adds to the novel's force. Still, easily one of the best books I’ve read this year, Sy-Quai’s absorbing account of the Church and sexual love.
This was a really well done book by Stephanie Sy-Quia.
During the 1960's, David is a Catholic priest, sure of his calling to serve the church. He is posted to a parish in the English countryside, where he also teaches theology at an all girls school with a group of stern nuns. Margaret, newly graduated with a degree in theology (a rare qualification for a woman during this time), comes to the school to assume the position of theology teacher. The novel is the story of their budding romance, the difficulties they face because of David's position, and the secrets that they keep because of their history.
The prose in this book was lyrical. I found myself rereading passages because I was so taken with the language that I missed the meaning. It was beautiful. And I loved how well developed the characters of David and Margaret were.
While I loved the language, the second half of the book was a bit slow for me. It wasn't a long novel, but there were parts of it that lost my attention. There were also parts toward the end that I don't think added a lot of value to the story. The author is also a poet (hence the lyricism of the prose), and sections of the novel seemed to be more about the writing, rather than advancing the plot.
Overall, I'm so glad I read this book. 4 well-deserved ⭐s.
Thanks to NetGalley and Grove Press for an advanced copy of this novel. It's scheduled to be published on April 14, 2026.
*Thanks to NetGalley and the publisher for an advance reader copy of this novel in exchange for an honest review.*
A Private Man starts in 1953 and follows David who is ordained and about to start life as a Priest in England. He is handsome but sworn to celibacy and is devoted to God as that’s all he has ever known. In London, Margaret is entangled in a love affair with a married man. She knows the relationship can’t work but she is sexually free and wants to live by her own rules and ends up joining a women’s movement that challenges the rules of the church. David and Margaret end up working together at a Catholic college and they have an undeniable connection. But David is bound by his duties as a Priest and David is forbidden from starting anything with Margaret.
I found this story to be very powerful and I enjoyed it. It is a short read that really packs a punch. This book is told from David and Margaret’s POV when they are young but also from their grandson, Adrian as he looks after his grandmother. As soon as David and Margaret met I could feel their connection and I just love everything about this book. I liked what this had to say about faith and religion. Margaret is an interesting character to follow because she believes in God but doesn’t subscribe to the old and archaic rules of the religion. I really appreciate this story and I will be recommending this. It was an unexpected read for me and I’m very glad I took a chance on this.
Wow, I didn’t anticipate enjoying this book as much as I did! David and Margret’s intricate love story is beautifully narrated, and the writing is perfection.
The first half of the book narrates the couple’s journey as they get to know each other, while the second half follows their life after marriage. The author’s writing truly brings the story to life, evoking a range of emotions within the reader.
However, I have a minor critique regarding the present-day storyline. I’m not entirely convinced that it was necessary and occasionally distracted me from the main narrative flow of the book.
Overall, I highly recommend this book if you enjoy a character-driven love story with an interesting storyline involving the history of the Catholic Church.
Thank you to NetGalley and the publisher for the privilege of reading this upcoming novel, which will be released on April 14, 2026.
This is a definite slow-burn, an atmospheric, yearning tale that’s based in some reality of the author’s grandparents - between a catholic priest and a laywoman.
It’s a forbidden love due to the life that David has signed up to, one of the church and celibacy - but Margaret comes along to challenge the times, the rules, and David himself.
The second half was much more engaging for me, seeing how David and Margaret navigated each other and the dynamic shift that happened between them.
There was a really lyrical atmosphere to the prose which made the slow burn feel like such a precious journey. The author’s way of showing the struggle between moral, faith, and love was so well captured.
I found this book hard to get into and I felt quite lost at times. It picked up around a third of the way in and I started to settle into the story and the infrequent time changes. It's a very emotional story. Lots of interesting information about the Catholic Church's debates around sexuality, contraception etc in the early 1960s. I thought Margaret was an excellent character, a real feminist. It's a slow burn love story with plenty of angst. I did enjoy the author's writing style and the way she progressed the story through time in a concise manner. Recommended - but I think it could well have limited appeal once the reviews get out after publication.
I grew up Catholic, so anything connected to the Church always catches my eye. The story of Margaret and David really pulled me in—it was emotional, complex, and full of depth. I found their journey fascinating and appreciated how the author explored faith, love, and moral struggle. That said, some sections felt a bit heavy with vocabulary, and I occasionally lost track of the timeline or details. Still, it was an engaging read overall, and I’m glad I stuck with it.
Thank you to NetGalley for the ARC in exchange for my honest review.
As someone who grew up Catholic and went to a Catholic small college, I was immediately interested in this story. The relationship between Margaret and David is so complex. The story felt relatable and just HUMAN in many ways. It made me reflect on the Catholic church, and it's complexities and views around relationships, love, and just how many secrets are kept daily. I really enjoyed this book, and would highly recommend!
This was just really lovely. The family relationships throughout the generations. It's truly Margaret's story though, I felt I knew her far better than anyone else. It's touching, and gentle and moves slowly and carefully, but we all knew where it ends. A little gem of a book I think.