Jodi McAlister’s An Academic Affair transforms the typically sterile halls of academia into fertile ground for one of contemporary romance’s most satisfying slow burns. This is a novel that understands both the genre it inhabits and the world it depicts with uncommon precision, creating a narrative that feels simultaneously lived-in and deliciously escapist.
The premise hooks immediately: Dr. Sadie Shaw and Dr. Jonah Fisher have spent thirteen years as academic adversaries, their rivalry stretching from undergraduate seminars through doctoral dissertations and into the brutal uncertainty of casual academic employment. When a rare permanent position appears at Lyons University in Hobart, both scholars recognize it as likely their final chance at career stability. But Sadie notices something in the fine print that changes everything—a partner hire clause. Her solution is as audacious as it is practical: marry Jonah, secure employment for both, and maintain their professional dignity in an increasingly hostile academic landscape.
What could have been a simple marriage-of-convenience trope instead becomes McAlister’s platform for exploring deeper questions about identity, worth, and what we’re willing to sacrifice for both love and livelihood. The author, herself an academic who researches popular fiction and romance, brings an insider’s understanding to the material that elevates it beyond standard genre conventions.
The Academic Reality Check
McAlister’s greatest strength lies in her unflinching portrayal of academic precarity. The novel doesn’t romanticize the ivory tower but instead exposes its brutal economics and crushing instability. Sadie and Jonah exist in what McAlister terms “the precariat”—a class of overqualified, underemployed scholars who teach course to course, semester to semester, with no security and diminishing prospects. The casual academics are always the first casualties, as union stickers on their laptops remind them.
This authenticity grounds even the novel’s most fantastical romantic elements in recognizable reality. When Sadie proposes marriage as a professional strategy, it doesn’t feel absurd—it feels desperate in the way that precarious employment makes people desperate. The author acknowledges in her afterword that while she’s never heard of anyone attempting the marriage scheme, she might have considered it herself during her own years of job insecurity. That honesty permeates every page, making the stakes feel genuinely high even as the romantic payoff remains assured.
The novel also examines academic privilege with surprising nuance. Jonah’s advantage isn’t just his connection to his father, Professor Christian Fisher—it’s the entire ecosystem that privileges certain research areas, certain backgrounds, certain ways of being in academic spaces. Meanwhile, Sadie fights twice as hard for half the recognition, her specialization in popular fiction dismissed as less serious scholarship despite her rigorous methodology and extensive publication record.
Characters Who Think and Feel in Equal Measure
Sadie Shaw emerges as one of contemporary romance’s more complex heroines. She’s sharp-tongued, fiercely intelligent, and carries the weight of growing up in poverty with her sister Chess as her only consistent support. Her doctoral work on “eucatastrophe”—Tolkien’s term for the sudden joyous turn when all seems lost—provides the novel’s thematic backbone. Sadie believes in happy endings intellectually while struggling to trust them emotionally, a tension McAlister exploits beautifully throughout the narrative.
Jonah Fisher could have been another brooding academic hero, but McAlister gives him unexpected depth. His privilege embarrasses him even as he benefits from it, creating genuine internal conflict that goes beyond performative guilt. The novel’s dual perspective allows readers to see how Jonah has quietly loved Sadie for fifteen years while maintaining their adversarial relationship, annotating his Renaissance drama texts with marginalia about pining that he hopes she’ll never discover.
The supporting cast enriches rather than decorates the story. Chess Shaw, Sadie’s corporate lawyer sister, brings fierce protectiveness tinged with complicated resentment. Fiona, Jonah’s recently divorced sister navigating single parenthood, provides both emotional stakes and genuine warmth. Even minor characters feel dimensional, from union organizers to wine-obsessed friends who anchor the protagonists in Tasmania’s community.
Structural Elements Worth Examining
McAlister’s use of extensive footnotes deserves particular attention. Rather than gimmickry, the footnotes function as Jonah’s voice breaking through formal narrative constraints—revealing his interior monologue, his scholarly annotations, his desperate attempts to maintain emotional distance while falling helplessly in love. They also serve as meta-commentary on academic writing itself, the way scholars hide personal feeling behind citations and formal prose.
The novel’s structure mirrors its thematic concerns. Six ceasefires punctuate Sadie and Jonah’s fifteen-year rivalry, each broken except the last. This creates both pattern and tension, establishing their relationship’s rhythms while suggesting growth might finally be possible. McAlister paces revelations carefully, allowing both characters space to evolve without rushing their emotional development.
The writing itself balances literary sophistication with genre accessibility. McAlister deploys complex narrative theory—Ricœur’s distinction between “clock time” and “human time,” Tolkien’s concepts of eucatastrophe and dyscatastrophe—without lecturing or condescending. She trusts readers to follow sophisticated arguments while maintaining the emotional immediacy romance requires.
Where the Novel Stumbles
Despite its considerable strengths, An Academic Affair occasionally loses confidence in its own premise. The university’s threat to terminate Jonah’s employment feels somewhat contrived, an external crisis introduced when the internal emotional stakes would have sufficed. The resolution, while satisfying, relies on convenient media attention and public pressure that doesn’t quite track with how universities typically respond to criticism.
The novel’s treatment of Sadie’s estrangement from Chess also occasionally feels manipulative, deployed primarily to increase Sadie’s vulnerability rather than explored for its own emotional truth. When reconciliation arrives, it happens largely off-page, robbing readers of the confrontation the relationship deserves.
Some readers may find the extensive literary and wine references occasionally precious, moments where the novel seems more interested in demonstrating cultural capital than advancing character or plot. The balance generally works, but there are passages where erudition overwhelms intimacy.
The pacing in the middle section drags somewhat as the couple settles into married life. McAlister herself acknowledges the shift from “human time” (measured in events) to “clock time” (measured in routine), but the narrative energy sags during this transition before recovering for the final act.
The Verdict on This Academic Romance
An Academic Affair succeeds because it takes both academia and romance seriously as subjects worthy of rigorous examination. McAlister refuses to choose between intellectual sophistication and emotional satisfaction, demonstrating that the best contemporary romance can offer both. Her scholar’s attention to detail enriches rather than burdens the love story, creating a world that feels authentic even as it delivers genre pleasures.
Key Strengths:
- Authentic portrayal of academic precarity and institutional politics
- Complex, well-developed protagonists with genuine emotional arcs
- Witty, sophisticated dialogue that crackles with intelligence
- Innovative use of footnotes as narrative device
- Nuanced examination of privilege, worth, and professional identity
Notable Weaknesses:
- Occasional contrivances in plot construction
- Uneven pacing through middle section
- Some supporting storylines feel underdeveloped
- Resolution relies on convenient external factors
For readers who appreciate smart, sophisticated romance that doesn’t sacrifice emotional depth for intellectual complexity, An Academic Affair delivers thoroughly satisfying eucatastrophe. McAlister proves herself a scholar of romance in both senses—someone who studies the genre with academic rigor and someone who writes it with genuine mastery.
If You Loved This Book
Readers who enjoyed An Academic Affair should explore:
- The Love Hypothesis by Ali Hazelwood – Another contemporary academic romance featuring fake dating and STEM research
- The Charm Offensive by Alison Cochrun – Reality TV setting with similar emotional depth and queer representation
- Beach Read by Emily Henry – Rivals-to-lovers with literary fiction writers examining genre boundaries
- Get a Life, Chloe Brown by Talia Hibbert – Contemporary romance balancing humor with serious themes of chronic illness and personal growth
- Red, White & Royal Blue by Casey McQuiston – Enemies-to-lovers with sharp banter and high stakes professional complications
McAlister’s previous works—Not Here to Make Friends, Here for the Right Reasons, and Can I Steal You for a Second?—explore reality television romance with similar intelligence and heart, offering different settings but comparable emotional sophistication.