Jonathan Evison: As somebody published by little old Soft Skull, I understand firsthand the challenges an indie press faces in garnering exposure for its authors. But the good presses are committed to the cause, working tirelessly in the face of limited resources and merchandising hurtles in order to find readers for their authors. Dzanc is such a press, and Dan Wicket and Steven Gillis are just such tireless workers. Over the past two years, Dan has been sending me a pretty steady diet of Dzanc authors, from Roy Kesey to Peter Selgin to Kyle Minor to Suzanne Burns, and I’m always very impressed by the quality of the work, and the editorial voice of the press. Last week, Dan sent me what may be my favorite Dzanc title yet, Hesh Kestin’s The Iron Will of Shoeshine Cats, which is slated for release in November, and distributed by Consortium. I’m seriously rooting for this title to break out and find the audience which it deserves– the audience which I know exists.
I LOVED this book, and perhaps the most persuasive argument for the veracity of such a claim, is that I can’t stand the premise of the novel. I have little tolerance for the well worn turf of gangster stories (and that includes the Godfather saga). I’m not a prig, but I’m sick to death of crime stories sullying the virtue of honor by romanticizing a bunch of brutes–be they Italian, Irish, Black, Chinese, or Jewish. But Kestin has subverted the iconic gangster masterfully with the character of Shusan Cats (known to the print media as Shoeshine Cats), around whose legacy the novel revolves. Shoeshine’s story is really narrator Russy Newhouse’s story. Russy is a boy genius wannabe playboy grad student at Brooklyn college who is unwittingly chosen in 1963 to be the heir to crime boss Shushan Cats. Both men are unlikely gangsters on the surface (cerebral and compromisingly sentimental), and both are fascinating characters, as are a half-dozen of Kestin’s ancillary characters. The long and short of The Iron Will of Shoeshine Cats is that Russy comes to discover the hitherto inexplicable reasoning behind his calling to organized crime as the story progresses, and in the meantime discovers himself, all against a masterfully drawn background of an America in the throes of its own growing pains.
Hesh Kestin writes like Budd Schulberg– with sharp, quick, hard-nosed sentences, a ton of atmosphere, and a male gaze capable of withering granite. Anybody who loved What Makes Sammy Run? will devour Kestin’s debut novel. Pencil this one in for November.
JE
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