(This is a little long, cuz I get bitchy.)
There’s an audience for this type of Hoffman novel. I probably ain’t it.
I would guess that Hoffman’s core readers as transcendental herbalists from Martha’s Vineyard, and I’m sure I’m not that! So, maybe I was destined to dislike this book
The Probable Future is about the three most recent generations of the Sparrow women. All Sparrow women have witch-like gifts, like being about to sniff out liars or the talent to predict the mode of others’ deaths. It’s this last gift that gets the teenaged Stella Sparrow in trouble. She foresees a brutal Boston murder and tries to get her loser dad to stop it before it happens. Instead, he gets arrested for the crime. So Stella and her mom flee to small-town Massachusetts to hide out with the cantankerous grandma. Here they come to understand more about 13 generations of Sparrow women and their gifts.
Although I love Hoffman’s idea of domestic witchcraft and magic, I find her execution fluffy and unsurprising – the story arc is basically the stuff of Lifetime films, with a small bit of New England witchery thrown in. The sum product is a mystical version of a Laura Ashley gift basket, replete with a pale pastel bow to wrap the whole damn thing up too neatly at the end.
It also pisses me off that the females are seen as flawed but human, and many of the males are simply slackers, demons, pricks or buffoons. There’s not a lot of singularity here; I wouldn’t want to spend an unexpected amount of time with ANY of Hoffman’s two-dimensional characters. She defines too much of them by likes and dislikes and not enough by action intrinsic to the plot. Many of the conflicts could’ve simply been fixed with a good conversation. None of these people are witty, deep or complex.
I also distinctly dislike when authors write shallow “mustache twisting” villains; this book has one of the shallowest. And of course it’s a man, because I think Hoffman thinks this means she’s being feminist. (I suppose a female moustache-twister would be too scary and weird, though…all that facial hair.)
Hoffman’s book is missing a good question. The Probable Future possessed absolutely no thematic complications, comic or dramatic. (There are bumper sticker themes: “Family is good.” “Change is good.”) There was no point where I pondered, “God, what would I do?!? How would I handle this situation?!?” I never thought the author was taking any intellectual or emotional risks. The solutions to the characters’ problems were always obvious. Often, I didn’t care. Sometimes I even thought of a very quick, easy solution the characters were to vapid to consider.
Finally, all the description of horticulture, of bird wings, of flavored tea, gets old after a while. These aspects are buried in corny lines like, “Eleanor knew that you couldn’t tell anything about a new flower before it bloomed, just like you cannot tell truth about young people until they blossom into adulthood.”
My major quibbles being duly noted, Hoffman’s use of magic—casual, almost commonplace—is wonderful. I just wish she could’ve made a more unexpected plot with richer characterization. And she can end the book with us pondering a few questions, and I wouldn’t complain. I could actually live through the detailed descriptions of flora, fauna and food. But for all of its magic, the worst part of The Probable Future is how banal its characters are; it’s like Martha Stewart for the Wiccan set.
But then again, I suspect I am not the target audience here.
(By the way, I’ve also read Practical Magic, Second Nature and Seventh Heaven. Last night I tried to give Hoffman one more chance with Here on Earth. But after 40 pages, I had to put it down. It has the same characters—same struggling mom, same Gothy daughter. It possessed the same cursed land. It took place in a small Massachusetts town, like The Probable Future. It was scary how repetitive this seemed. I had to quit.)