Furnace Creek is a modern queering of Great Expectations. Written in a stuffy style of Victorian prose, populated with baroque, eccentric, Dickensian characters, the novel tells the story of a precocious boy named Newt Seward growing up in rural Virginia. After he helps a black woman escape town, he becomes employed by a wealthy man, Mr Brewster, and helps to rearrange his library. As he comes closer to Mr Brewster and learns aristocratic manners and culture from him, he becomes enamoured with Mr Brewster's visiting niece and nephew. When he turns sixteen, a lawyer comes to inform him that an anonymous donor will fund his education at a New England boarding school, and eventually, Harvard. Obviously, just as Pip thought Ms Havisham was his mysterious benefactor, Newt thinks the lonely Mr Brewster is his secret patron. And like Pip, his pampered life of sudden financial ease slowly leads him into disreputable spending and dissolute debt. It is a true Dickensian tale of precipitous fortunes, implausible coincidences and operatic melodrama. But whereas Dickens explores the complexities of class in Victorian England, the dainty etiquette of old-money snobs and their rivalry with gauche parvenus, this novel takes a modern twist exploring intersections with race and queerness in the American South.
On the whole, I didn't like it. It too closely resembled Great Expectations, so I never really felt the same suspense and mystery as the plot unfolded. The plot-twists were always carefully set up in advance. The metatextual hinting was also heavy ("I'd been reading too many Victorian novels" occurs several times throughout) and some allusions were too obvious and unnecessary ("it's a truth well acknowledged that New Englanders are more proudly reserved than the garrulous Virginians"). Some of the vocabulary was repetitive (I started to wince every time I saw "savoir-faire") and some of the representation of African American Vernacular English seemed inaccurate (invariant "be" is used specifically for habitual aspect. When the black fugitive woman asks, "You be meanin' what I think, Newt?" I think it would be more accurate to say "you meaning what I think?"—it didn't sound to me like authentic black American diction but a kind of pantomime version). The prose is florid but after a while it felt stilted. I also didn't like the end which verbatim repeated entire pages.