Shifting perspectives & social commentary
A review of Leslie Pietrzyk’s Admit This to No One
by Norah Vawter
At the center of Admit This to No One , the new linked story collection by local author Leslie Pietrzyk, loom two giant figures: a fictional Speaker of the House of Representatives, and Washington, D.C. itself. The Speaker is one of those flawed but “great” men. He would have been president—if it weren’t for his constant need to cheat on successive wives and father successive children, whom he inevitably abandons when they’re no longer politically advantageous. But the Speaker is charismatic and inspiring. You want to follow this man. He could move mountains with his words. He might change the world. And you could be right there—made meaningful because of your proximity to him. That’s the kind of guy the Speaker is. And yes, of course he’s a white man.
However, in Pietrzyk’s story collection the Speaker is never named and is rarely the person telling the story. We only dip into his perspective occasionally. Instead, it’s the women in his life who are speaking—the ones who often don’t get a chance to speak up. We meet two of his daughters. Teenage Madison, who sneaks drinks at the Kennedy Center bar when her dad meets her for court-appointed visitations. Lexie—his oldest daughter from his first family (which she sees as his real family)—who’s turning 40 and has managed to entangle herself with a younger man, creating her own low-profile sex scandal. Mary-Grace, his right-hand woman, who’s been with him for many years, probably knows him better than anyone, and is complicit in many of his wrongdoings. We also meet other women who have been romantically entangled with the Speaker.
“How could it be wrong to want to be loved, to admit to needing to be loved? Why did I never just tell him that, in words? Wouldn’t a father—my father—know? Here I surprise myself, understanding suddenly how a sister, my sister, my sister Madison might want, need, expect, hope for the same from the man we share, our father.”
Admit This to No One deals with many serious themes and can be heartbreaking. But it can also be hilarious and enjoyable, as Pietrzyk’s dry wit and scathing social commentary come through with a vengeance. This collection is Pietrzyk’s fifth book of fiction, and her skill and experience as a storyteller shows. When a character’s life is threatened, a central tension emerges and a clear arc runs through the book. As in some other linked collections, the ties that bind individual stories together grow stronger as the book continues, and we see characters pop into each other’s stories. It’s a particular delight to see Mary-Grace from Lexie’s perspective, because we feel like we already know Mary-Grace so well, but now we’re on the outside looking in.
The shifting perspective, and sense of shifting reality, is one of my favorite things about linked story collections. It’s so true to life: we change depending on who sees us. And I’m a sucker for this mode of storytelling. I find a particular pleasure in reading a collection of linked short stories—when it’s done well. And here it is. The individual pieces of Admit This to No One fit together into one, solid, cohesive book. Like puzzle pieces. At the same time, the stories remain individual and idiosyncratic. The narrative is anything but straightforward. As a reader, I’m putting the pieces together. I’m looking for the through lines. I’m trying to find the map, the key. While reading a good novel, I find myself sinking deep and immersing myself in the fictional world. But here I’m more of an active reader. And the more strands I pull together, the more ownership I feel as a reader—because I am creating my own version of the narrative. Don’t get me wrong, I love novels. But this is a particular kind of pleasure.
Admit This to No One is a commentary on “official D.C.,” the elite players who run the city, and it’s also a commentary on the white and male privilege at the heart of our political system and our nation’s capital. In one sense, this is a not political book because it’s not about Democrats and Republicans, or about specific policy stances. But in another sense, it’s completely political. It’s about feminism and #MeToo. It’s about the ability of a single white man to move mountains, create his own destiny, and destroy others in his wake. It’s about women who never manage to harness that same power. More than anything, it’s a book about power: the power of words, of silence, of secrets shared, of charisma, of manipulation.
Admit This to No One also offers commentary on white power—not because any of our characters are white nationalists or anything as extreme/obvious as that—but because they consciously or unconsciously use their white privilege to their advantage and don’t often consider the implications of their actions on non-white people. And it’s also about the advantage you have if you can tell your own story, if you can craft your own narrative and manipulate words to your advantage. It’s about those little selfish thoughts you have but admit to no one.
Author Leslie Pietrzyk. Photo by Susan Hale Thomas.
“Pretend that you’re outraged at the gentrification of D.C., once proudly called “Chocolate City.” Pretend you don’t sometimes secretly fantasize about moving out of the suburbs, into the city, scoring a nice condo or rowhouse on U Street ... or maybe even getting in early in Anacostia, which has got to be the next real estate hotspot, right?”
Admit This to No One is beautifully written with lovely, economical prose and lines that surprise, delight, and/or disgust the reader. It’s concise, tight, and well structured. It excels at giving us glimpses into the characters’ lives and stories. And yet, I sometimes found myself wanting more, wanting to delve deeper, to get further beneath the surface. Pietrzyk excels at not letting herself, or the reader, look away from the ugliness of human nature. The book is decidedly unsentimental: this isn’t a warm story, or a book about love and redemption. It’s not supposed to be. And yet, the greatest strength of Admit This to No One—its gritty, incisive, raw unsentimentality—is sometime its weakness.
Over my years of reading and reviewing, I’ve noticed that when a book tries so hard to be unsentimental, it misses opportunities to delve deeper into characters’ psyches. It misses the chance for readers really know the characters on an emotional level, to understand both the light and the dark. Because in real life, there’s always a bit of sentimentality. We all have gooey moments. Pietrzyk’s approach to character development in Admit This to No One might be a deliberate choice on the part of the author, as there are certainly elements of satire within the book, and she may have a thousand reasons for avoiding the sentimental. But it’s a piece of the puzzle that never finds its way home, at least not for me.
Nevertheless, Admit This to No One is an outstanding story collection that becomes more enthralling with every story and manages to end in a way that feels both surprising and inevitable. Pietrzyk’s unflinching style invites readers to consider our own selfishness, our own privilege or lack thereof, and our own secret fears. It provides important commentary on official D.C. and white privilege. And it’s hilarious, in a dry, dark way. Despite the sometimes unlikeable characters, I found myself rooting for them. And the characters’ observations were often so funny I found myself actually giggling to myself. As I wove through the book and put puzzle pieces into place, I found myself loving this book. Taking pleasure in my status as an active reader, and being dazzled by the truly excellent writing.
Pick up your copy of Admit This to No One directly from the publisher, Unnamed Press, from Politics and Prose, or your favorite local indie bookstore.
Leslie Pietrzyk will be at the 2022 AWP Conference in March, reading and participating in a panel. Details to come—check her website for updates.
Leslie Pietrzyk is the author of three novels, including Silver Girl, published by Unnamed Press in 2018. Her first collection of short stories, This Angel on My Chest, won the 2015 Drue Heinz Literature Prize and was published by University of Pittsburgh Press. Short fiction and essays have appeared in Ploughshares, Story Magazine, Southern Review, The Gettysburg Review, Washingtonian, The Sun, The Washington Post Magazine, and others. Awards include a Pushcart Prize in 2020 and the 2020 Creative Arts Prize from the Polish American Historical Association.
Norah Vawter is DCTRENDING’s local authors editor. She has an M.F.A. in fiction from George Mason, has published in The Washington Post, Memoir Magazine, andThe Nassau Review, among others, and is querying her first novel. She lives in Northern Virginia with her husband and son. Follow her on Twitter @norahvawter, where she shares words and works of D.C. area writers every Friday.