An angel and a demon facing the greatest problem of their time: the crucial difference between Book!Omens and Miniseries!Omens
A follower who doesn’t have Tumblr sent me this AMAZING essay about the differences between the book and the series, and focuses especially on the context of the Cold War to go deep into establishing how the whole book works.
It’s impressive. It’s clever. It’s enlightening and rather exhaustive. And very long, but I swear, you will not regret reading it.
After this sentence, you’ll be reading OP’s work.
So, I saw this post comparing the differences between book!A/C and miniseries!A/C and I just couldn’t repress myself any longer. Here it is, a short essay on how the most crucial difference between Book!Omens and Miniseries!Omens arises from the story adapting to the context in which the book was written and the miniseries has been filmed.
I’ll be using the Corgi Edition, reissued in 2019 whenever I reference the book.
An angel and a demon facing the greatest problem of their time: the crucial difference between Book!Omens and Miniseries!Omens
As it has been said many times already, there is a substantial difference between Good Omens as a book and as a series, namely, the shift in the dynamics between Aziraphale and Crowley. While their relationship is pretty much established in the book from the very beginning, in the series it becomes the main narrative focus. Series!Omens deals primarily with Aziraphale’s and Crowley’s coming out of the closet, as it were, with them daring to be themselves and freely acknowledging the profound love they feel for one another. Meanwhile, the original novel did also deal with an element of self-freeing, but the context in which the book was written made for the focus of that struggle to be slightly different. In Book!Omens the pivotal difficulty is gaining freedom from a system, from a well-defined authority. In Series!Omens, the challenge is to get rid of our internal fears, of our own demons (no pun intended) and insecurities, and dare to reach out for love and tenderness. As I would argue, I ascribe this shift to a change of the worldwide context when each work was produced. In that sense, much has been said and analysed about Series!Omens already. So, I will devote most of this essay to exploring how Book!Omens works perfectly well as a metaphor of the historical time when it was produced, that is, the Cold War.
The book was written in 1990, one year after the falling of the Berlin Wall and just one year before the collapse of the URSS. More importantly, both Pratchett and Gaiman were old enough to have a direct, fully conscious and first-hand experience of what it was like to live during the Cold War. So much so, that Good Omens can be read pretty easily as a great metaphor of it. Just in case, let me sketch the main rough ideas of what the Cold War entailed: two sides with opposite believes, both so inhumanly powerful that if to face each other directly the entire universe would be blown out in a nuclear Armageddon. So, instead of going directly to war with one another, they had areas of influence and agents dedicated to gaining supporters for their sides while trying to neutralise the other side’s agents. Sounds familiar, right?
From Heaven with love, the name’s Crowley, A. J. Crowley
The most blatant evidence to support this reading of Good Omens can be found in nearly every scene where Aziraphale and Crowley meet in a public place to discuss their guidelines, their respective courses of action and what they are going to do about it as friends. At some point during those, a reference is been made to British, Russian or American spies and agents being around them, doing exactly the same our angel and demon are doing. The first time we see Aziraphale and Crowley interacting together in the book is on PP. 44-45, in St James’s Park. Before their dialogue starts, we are told about the ducks and how they have developed a Pavlovian reaction to certain types of humans, because the park is the place where agents from both sides (capitalist and communist) meet under the pretence of feeding them. Which coincidentally is exactly the same cover Aziraphale and Crowley use. As if that was not enough, Aziraphale runs out of bread mid-conversion, and the duck that was being fed
“[…] went off to pester the Bulgarian [communist] naval attaché and a furtive-looking man in a Cambridge tie [capitalist], […]” (P.44)
Thus it is stablished that the ducks see no difference between Aziraphale and Crowley, or any other secret agents meeting clandestinely.
Something similar occurs when they meet at the British Museum to discuss that Warlock is all too normal:
“They were in the cafeteria of the British Museum, another refuge for all weary foot soldiers of the Cold War. At the table to their left two ramrod-straight Americans in suits were surreptitiously handing over a briefcase full of deniable dollars to a small dark woman in sunglasses; at the table on their right the deputy head of MI7 and the local KGB section officer argued over who got to keep the receipt for the tea and buns.” (P. 68)
This is interesting for various reasons. Before the first interaction at St James’s Park we had already been told about the Arrangement and how it was basically a non-interference deal that made both Aziraphale’s and Crowley’s life easier and gave them more free time. But now they are openly working together to raise Warlock. Notice that in this paragraph the idea of the angel and the demon being two agents from each block is again reinforced by sheer spatial proximity. But even better, as if that was not enough, the agents are once more doing exactly the same that Aziraphale and Crowley are. Thus, the Americans are handing money over a soviet agent in dark glasses, probably as payment for non-interference, or better yet collaboration. Moreover, the British MI7 agent and the soviet KGB officer are arguing about who should get the bill. Aziraphale and Crowley are also sharing their third mentioned meal, albeit without arguing about the bill. However, we already know that they eat together frequently and that just like the agents, they take turns to pay. At the end of their interaction at St James’ Park, right before heading to the Ritz, they had their own “this time bill’s on me” moment of sorts, with the famous owed lunch from Paris 1793.
To finish this first point, I would like to mention the last meeting at St James’s Park, after the Armageddon’t:
“St James’s Park was comparatively quiet. The ducks, who were experts in realpolitik as seen from the bread end, put it down to a decrease in world tension. […] The park was deserted except for a member of MI9 trying to recruit someone who, to their later mutual embarrassment, would turn out to be also a member of MI9 […]” (P. 380)
Once more, a meeting of our favourite couple is framed in the context of the Cold War. Especially remarkable here is the mention of the ducks’ realpolitik views. Roughly explained, the German term Realpolitik is deployed in political sciences to describe an incredibly pragmatic approach to diplomatic relationships. In Realpolitik actions are not guided by any ideological principles, moral or ethic premises, but rather by a calibration of what is objectively possible to achieve, given the present circumstances. Remember that that is the first day after Armagewasn’t, after the nearly end of the world due to the tension between two sides with opposite believes. Much like Aziraphale and Crowley, Adam and the Them, or any single being on Earth, so far the ducks were experts in dealing from a very pragmatic approach with the consequences (namely, bread in this case) of two sides battling with one another. The first day after the failed Armageddon, the ducks have less bread, and they correctly attribute this change to tension having gone down. But here Terry and Neil are once more mixing human and non-human agents; the ducks were not getting most of their bread from Heaven or Hell’s agents, but from the human ones.
So, it’s rather clear that throughout the entire book a very strong parallelism between Cold War agents and Aziraphale and Crowley is established. Even the running fascination with James Bond that plagues the book points towards that direction. As we are about to see, Aziraphale and Crowley fit into the two main characters to be found in a James Bond film, albeit if as a grotesque parody of them.
Soviet Heaven and Capitalist Hell
As far as I can see, this mimesis between the Cold War and the war between Heaven and Hell is further emphasised by the many little descriptions we get from each supra-human side. This second point relies more on my own interpretation, but nonetheless I am offering it since I believe there is enough ground on which to base it. The first clear representation of two directly opposite sides colliding is to be found in Aziraphale and Crowley themselves. The portrayal in the miniseries is absolutely beautiful, but adorable as it is, I think of it as paradoxically less nuanced, although extremely fitting within the narrative and dynamics the characters have. In the show, Crowley tries to look as cool as our collective image expects a bad demon to be. Aziraphale looks as sweet and warm as one would imagine an angel to do. More importantly, they are both of similar age. In the book, however, it is stressed time and again that Crowley looks young. We do not know much about Aziraphale’s age until, once recorporated, Madam Tracy confesses to have expected him to look younger (P. 353) It is therefore reasonable to infer that there seems to be an age gap between them.
Moreover, Crowley is very clearly portrayed as a yuppie (think Patrick Bateman, from American Psycho). Apart from his shades, he is dressed in a suit (“Hastur gestured, and the plastic bulb dissolved […] spilling water all over Crowley’s desk, and all over Crowley’s suit.” P. 249) He has an incredibly luxurious watch that gives the time of 20 capitals while deep-diving (P. 16). His pen […] was sleek and matt black. It looked as though it could exceed the speed limit.” (P. 20) His flat is modern and unlived, with a full office, and a modern kitchen with a fridge full of gourmet food. There is a TV, music system, a fax and two phone lines, one of them with the ansaphone (P. 241, let us not forget by the time the book was written this was peak technology) Crowley even has a computer that he updates regularly “[…] because a sleek computer was the sort of thing Crowley felt that the sor to human he tried to be would have.” (P.241) This line is extremely relevant, inasmuch as it tells us that Crowley is actively seeking to project not just a “cool” look, but the look of a certain sort of human, namely, a successful, rich, young, businessman. A yuppie, the epitome of capitalist culture.
Meanwhile, Aziraphale has a vaguely mature appearance, yet a rather defined look too. Although we donot get as detailed a description for him as we do for Crowley (who has good cheekbones and dark hair, P. 16), we get to form a picture out of certain details. He has well-manicured and fleshy hands. He wears a camel hair coat (cannot find the reference), which is an expensive garment. He has a taste for good food (he licks himself clean of Warlock’s birthday cake, P. 76; he upgrades his wine at the British Museum after stealing Crowley’s angel cake, P.70). He does not swear, which goes well with his angelic nature, but also contributes to the Southern Pansy Look, for which everybody takes him for gay. People also assume he is clever (which he is, P. 159) and British. The Britishness matches with his camel hair coat and his manicured hands (sort of gentleman-like), and contributes to giving him the appearance of somebody cultivated and polite (his books, his language), if a little bit behind times. To round the look, there is a suspicion of homosexuality on it. If you are familiarised with the history of intellectualism you will easily recognise that Aziraphale looks like the stereotypical continental intellectual: slightly old-fashioned, with a penchant for hedonism, so well-mannered and cultivated that you have to wonder: Is he gay, or European? As anybody in 4chan would tell you, what is for sure is that he is a leftist.
The connection between being educated, well-spoken, well-mannered, homosexual and a leftist is not something that the altright has come up with recently, but steams out of a rather long tradition. Even before the fascist regimes of the 30s institutionalized this connection, leftist and progressive intellectuals had already been consistently slandered with suspicion of being corruptly hedonistic and weak (because they do not work like men and instead are femininely sensitive towards art, literature, music, etc.) and homosexuality (because, well, homophobia).All in all, what I am trying to say is that even with the sparse information we have from him, Aziraphale fits perfectly into the stereotype, so prevalent in British history, of a noble-born intellectual who has turned towards progressive ideas but has not really lost his manners and refined tastes inherited from his upper-class background. As I mentioned earlier, Aziraphale and Crowley bear a caricature-like resemblance with the two main characters of every James Bond film: the effeminate, poised, intellectual Russian baddie (that would be Aziraphale, who is an angel), and the stylish, nice-car-driving, always-with-a-come-back-ready (“ngk”, P. 274) hero. Crowley even bought petrol to get the James Bond’s bullet transfer for the Bentley, which he quite fancied at that time.
That Aziraphale could be seen as the agent from Communism and Crowley the agent representing Capitalism does not only seem plausible after examining what little description we have from them, but it also befits Heaven’s and Hell’s portrayal in the book:
“Well, Hell was worse, of course, by definition. But Crowley remembered hat Heaven was like, and it had quite a few things in common with Hell. You couldn’t get a decent drink in either of them, for a start. And the boredom you got in Heaven was almost as bad as the excitement you got in Hell.” (P. 22)
In just a couple of sentences Pratchett and Gaiman tell us that Heaven and Hell are each other’s flipped coin. They are the same, because they are both the end of a spectrum: Heaven is so peaceful and calm that you will die of boredom; Hell is so restless and fast-paced that you will suffer from excitement. Aziraphale and Crowley do a fair job as representants of both sides. Book!Aziraphale is not as much soft and sweet as maturely calm, collected and paused. He literally does not keep up with the time, and in the 90s he is still stuck in the 50s, both in terms of fashion and speech. His luxuries and tastes could not be more traditional (good wine, books, classically rich clothes –tartan, camel hair coat) but he is surely going to enjoy them all the same. Instead, Crowley rushes and dashes around during the whole story. Book!Crowley is not only always driving way over the speed limit, but we are told that he is a lithe figure (P. 20), a young, flashy man living to the latest trend. His music system does not have speakers because Crowley eventually forgot about the most crucial part of any music system. He is surrounded with luxuries he does not enjoy, because he actually has them for conspicuous consumption. In fact, the only possession he cherishes is the one that truly frees him, allowing him to go around as quickly as his live requires, but comfortably (horses were not really his thing). Befitting for a demon, Crowley life is so fast-paced that he does not really have the time to enjoy its niceties, and sometimes forgets the most relevant aspect of things (putting speakers, double-checking which room he is delivering the Antichrist to). Coincidentally, for us Millennials, this may sound like a familiar description of our lives under capitalism.
To round up the parallelism between Communism!Heaven and Capitalism!Hell, I will comment on the little facts we got about both sides from the book. Unlike the miniseries, we never get to see Heaven or Hell in the book and there is hardly any description of Heaven and Hell other than the one I quoted before. That is not to say, however, that we have no information regarding them. We are told that Hell does take Crowley suggestion to use electronics to communicate, even if they got it wrong. In fact, as it has been pointed out more than once, Book!Crowley gets recognition from his achievements. At the same time, though, he is constantly reminded of the dangers of failing. Interestingly, that does not only apply to Crowley (who is just a demon) but to every single hellish entity. In the book, Hastur kills all the call-centre workers not solely out of malice, but also because he knows he has failed (has lost Crowley) and is consequently scared of reporting back:
“And anyway, he reflected, if he were going to have to face the possible wrath of the Dark Council, at least it wouldn’t be on an empty stomach.” (P. 300)
Hastur is basically that employee having a snickers bar at the common area before facing a difficult meeting. Moreover, we are told Crowley is able to trick him because “Hastur was paranoid, which was simply a sensible and well-adjusted reaction to living in Hell, where they really were all out to get you.” (P. 250) Hell is thus a place of all-against-all, where you can be doing relatively fine until one mistake gets you horribly punished. Hell is flexible and ready to incorporate change (Crowley not only suggest electronics as a channel for communicating, but also sends the computer warranty as inspiration). Lastly, Hell communicates with its employees in a direct manner, either by high-jacking whatever medium Crowley is using, or by straight up getting into his head.
What is fascinating is that the dynamics that are attributed to Hell are also shown in the book on another group of people. More specifically, the employees of Industrial Holdings (Holdings PLC partaking in their management training. Through pages 98 and 99, and through the character of Tompkins, Assistant Head (Purchasing) it is made clear how things at the Industrial Holdings are. Although theoretically their paintball exercise aims to team building, they all know that in reality it is a “all-against-all” battle. The young trainees are hungry to escalate. The old ones like Tompkins are eager to climb the Holdings ladder too, while eliminating concurrence. Their communication style is as rough and direct as Hell’s. It was simply impossible for Crowley not to understand their desires, since it could be said both the Industrial Holdings and Hell operate on the same frequency:
“Tompkins thumbed another paint pellet into the gun and muttered business mantras to himself. Do Unto Others Before They Do Unto You. Kill Or Be Killed. Either Shit Or Get Out Of The Kitchen. Survival Of The Fittest. Make My Day.” (P. 99)
Again, if it sounds too familiar altogether it is because we Millennials know a couple of things about living in Hell… or Capitalism.
On the flipped side of the coin, we got Heaven, for which precisely the lack of information is the information. Like communist regimes, in the book it is truly impossible to discern how Heaven operates and who is ultimately responsible for it. On Tumblr it has been already pointed out that Hell seems to be more efficient, since Crowley appears to be under a stricter supervision and reporting-basis than Aziraphale. Indeed, this impression is remarkable, specially once we remember that Aziraphale “[…] was a Principality, but people made jokes about that these days.” (P. 42) Although in the most purely Good Omens’ fashion this sentence is obscure enough to be interpreted as one wished (who are the people? Humans? Other angels?) it is at least clear that allegedly Aziraphale has a higher charge in Heaven than Crowley does in Hell. Yet his (nobiliary) title does not make that much of a difference in how unattended he is left.
An even greater, and factually more sinister example of how remote and inaccessible Heaven is, specially for its primary supporters (those who work for its cause), is to be found when Aziraphale tries to report his findings of concerning Adam’s whereabouts:
“Getting in touch with Heaven for two-way communications was far more difficult for Aziraphale than it is for humans, who don’t expect an answer and in nearly all cases would be rather surprised to get one.” (P. 235)
Notice how Pratchett and Gaiman mention that it is difficult for Aziraphale to get a two-way communication. The implication is that, like communist regimes, communication in Heaven only happens from the higher-ups downwards, never from the bottom “citizens” upwards. The parallelism can border on dark humour when it is said that it is easy for humans to get an answer from Heaven, even if they were not expecting one. As if Heaven, not unlike the Stalin’s URSS or North Korea, was randomly listening to conversations, and acting upon them regardless of whether that conversation was public or private.
Moreover, the adherence Aziraphale has for Heaven is as reminiscent of that expected in communist regimes, as Crowley’s acceptance of Hell parallels our own resignation with capitalism. Aziraphale ascribes his support to Heaven to his very nature. Unlike Crowley, who belongs to Hell circumstantially (he fell) Aziraphale belongs to Heaven in as literal a sense as those under communist regimes belonged to the state. Thus, he tells Crowley:
“All right. All right. I don’t like it any more than you, but I told you. I can’t disod – disoy – not do what I’m told. ‘M a’nangel.” (P. 54)
And again, when he realises that he wants to share his discovery about Adam with Crowley, but should report to Heaven instead:
“He was an angel, after all. You had to do the right thing. It was built-in- You see a wile, you thwart.” (P. 234)
It is easy to recognise in this reasoning the same course of mindless obedience indoctrinated in communist regimes: as a citizen of the state, one should behave as it is expected from them, that is, to the benefit of the state always in mind. What really matters is to never diverge from the party’s line, which Aziraphale valiantly tries to do. Meanwhile, Capitalism!Hell, it is all about maximising results, which by the way Crowley tries to achieve as well, even if Hastur and Ligur fail to see so.
Finally, the entire conversation Aziraphale holds with the Metatron further evidences how detached Heaven as an institution is from its most devoted acolytes. A quick rereading of the entire passage will prove that Aziraphale gets no clue as who is picking up the phone, so to speak. Neither does the Metatron see it fit to identify himself to Aziraphale (the angel has to explicitly ask him to do so). Even though Aziraphale’s eagerness and willingness to provide alternatives is clear in his speech, the Metatron never warms up and stays in his role of an annoyed high-ranked official who suddenly has to attend a petty man’s administrative request. Nonetheless, although it could seem that Heaven can hardly be bothered to take Aziraphale seriously, after being admonished, our angel notices that
“[t]he light faded, but did not quite vanish. They’re leaving the line open, Aziraphale thought. I’m not getting out of this one.” (P. 237)
Heaven exerts the same control over its workers as Hell does, but for those of us who have always lived in a capitalist system, Hell’s ways are recognisable, and thus look more efficient. However, Heaven has got a firm grip over its employees too. While Aziraphale was keeping a low profile (allegedly working within party’s line) he was left unbothered, even if in reality he was not being that productive. As soon as he raises his voice, even if a little, even if it is not to express disagreement but a mere alternative, they claim him back, they leave him no possibility of escaping. Most dismal of all is, Aziraphale realises so straight away and knows to have no possible way out, unlike Crowley. Similarly, notice how in the book we never know what happens once Aziraphale goes back to Heaven, nor how he manages to return to Earth and start his search for a receptive body at a convenient geographic location. Much like in the URSS, within Heaven’s walls everything is a secret.
What’s going to be left for you?
The third way in which Book!Good Omens brings to mind the Cold War is to be found in the notion of Armageddon, and in how it is avoid. Pratchett and Gaiman go as far as jokingly have the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse baffled at the fact that the end of the world will not be triggered in a traditional fashion. Instead, as the Metatron explains to Aziraphale, it will all begin “[…] a multi-nation nuclear exchange” (P. 237) I am sure the dark humour did not fly under the radar for the first readers of the book.
Although by 1990 the idea that computers, and more broadly technology, could destroy the world was already flourishing (The Matrix was just 9 years away), the real fear was for nuclear war. Again, James Bond’s movies are brought to mind. In them, the mere pressing of a red button sets into motion a technological weapon able to erase all life around. Thankfully, Sean Connery is always around, knowing exactly how to fix the mess while looking dapper. I would like to quickly point out that in keeping with the James Bond mockery, in Good Omens this job is performed by Newt Pulsifer, who Anathema notices “[…] was tall, but with a rolled-out, thin look. And while his hair was undoubtedly dark, it wasn’t any sort fashion accessory; […] It was the same with suits. The clothing hadn’t been invented that would make him look suave and sophisticated and comfortable. […] And he wasn’t handsome.” (PP. 202-203). To round up the joke, Newt is able to deactivate nuclear Armageddon precisely because he has not a clue of what he is doing.
Thus, the idea of a nuclear Armageddon was not really something that Pratchett and Gaiman came up with, but rather, like any good writers, the result of their ability to pick up the general ambience of their time and express it artistically. And in that sense, Book!Good Omens is the reallt punk tale of getting rid of not one, but two systems. Like the Western and Eastern blocks, Heaven and Hell must be stopped because both of them had become so wrapped up in their ideology, so devoted to their own glory, that they have completely forgotten about the people they both pretended to serve, and for whom they both were allegedly created. Book!Good Omens is truly the hilarious journey to return power to the people, to the collective. It is really a cry towards tolerance and acceptance, towards embracing even those who appear to be your complete opposite, because in becoming united we become unstoppable. I would argue that that is precisely the reason behind the constant mockery of the James Bond films. Book!Good Omens tells us that the world will not be saved by transferring the power from the systems to a single individual (the Hero), but by transferring it to a collective that embraces each and every of its members, because they are all valid. In this sense, one of the wisest choices that Pratchett and Gaiman made was to never get God to meddle in the story. God remains entirely unknown, since in keeping up with the Christian tradition and the Good Omens universe, his/her appearance would mark the revealing of the ultimate truth, the ultimate right (or the ineffable truth and right). But the story is not really about sorting out who is right, so God must stay out of the way.
In that regard, many book fans have complained about Greasy Johnson and the Johnsonites being omitted from the series. Out of all the wonderful details that could not make it to the final cut, I must agree that this is the one I believe to be the most detrimental, since it undermines Adam’s arch and part of the narrative. Both in the book and the series, Adam’s powers awaken with his awareness of how the world is being polluted, deforested, and shortly, destroyed. We manage to sympathise with him even in his darkest hour because all the time his intentions are good. He might be getting his means wrong (antichristing around) but his ends are commendable. We all would like to save the world too. But the entire point of Good Omens is precisely that that is what Heaven and Hell intended to do as well: “‘But after we win life will be better!’ croaked the angel.” (P. 45) Pratchett and Gaiman are being as generous as giving both capitalism (Hell) and communism (Heaven) the benefit of the doubt. Maybe they both sprang from good intentions, but the direction that the whole thing has taken is deplorable. Eventually it has all being reduced to who is going to get to administer the world, who is going to impose their view. That is why Pepper really manages to shake Adam up by asking the crucial question, the question that makes him realises how pointless his intend is: “What bit’re you going to have, Adam?” (P. 303) As Pepper realises, if you transform everything, if you change everything –even if for the good– nothing that you knew before will be left.
However, although that is what helps Adam come back to his senses, it is not what allows him to argue Heaven’s and Hell’s discourse back. Again, that is such a feather in Pratchett and Gaiman’s cap; sometimes you know what you want to do, but you are clueless at how to do it (like a certain angel and demon). Enter here the Johnsonites. Adam eventually realises that Heaven and Hell are like the Them and the Johnsonites, only that the latter pair are clever enough to acknowledge that what makes life fun is actually having a rival to wrestle with:
“I just don’t see why everyone and everything has to be burned up and everything. […] An’ not even for anything important. Jus’ to see who’s got the best gang. […] But even if you win, you can’t really beat the other side, because you don’t really want to. I mean, not for good.” (P. 356)
Just as Crowley slyly pointed out to Aziraphale at the beginning, if Heaven wins maybe life may become better, but it will not be that interesting. His point is exactly the same that Pepper makes to Adam: what is going to be left for you?
More interestingly, as the Metatron and Beelzebub try to rebuke Adam’s argument, the boy tells them:
“I don’t see what’s so triffic about creating people as people and then getting’ upset ‘cos they act like people […]” (P. 357)
And again, that is the same thing Aziraphale and Crowley have been saying all along. As many have noticed, in Book!Omens the angel and the demon are more explicitly united by their love towards humanity. Aziraphale and Crowley have come to love humanity even with all its flaws. They were meant to try and influence (change) humans and instead they have eventually accepted them as they are. Which is exactly what Adam realises in the end: it is not about trying to perfect humanity or the world, even if you intentions are the best. It is about accepting that there is no definite right or truth (God is ) and that good and evil are so tightly laced that the same politician can be in Aziraphale’s and Crowley’s list. Neither communism nor capitalism are 100% good or bad. However, they become dangerous when they try to change people, to transform the world entirely, because in doing so they annihilate the very reason for which they exerted themselves: the people.
Thanks to the Them, and the Johnsonites, and Anathema and her wacky magazines, and Mr. R. Tyler who chases them around town, Adam understands that the world needs no fixing and embraces it as it is. The generosity that such acceptance involves is what enables him to to free himself from his “nature”. Similarly, all along the story Aziraphale and Crowley knew that they had zero interest in changing the world. But both of them –and I can stress this enough, in the book it’s both of them– struggled to free themselves. Crowley, being always under direct threat, was too afraid to disobey; Aziraphale, being wrapped up in his party’s discourse, thought he was incapable of disobeying. But just as Adam Young eventually finds the generosity to repress his young and naïve impulse to change the world for the better, so do Aziraphale and Crowley. For most of the story, Crowley has been the one who knew that neither of them wanted for the world to change. Aziraphale had trouble admitting that because as I have said, he had to break some mental barriers (“I cannot possibly do that). But once he breaks them, he is the one helping Crowley overcome his fear of Hell’s punishment by using the very argument Crowley has put forward to him. As Satan is approaching, Aziraphale talks Crowley into adopting as generous a course of action as Adam has already done:
“ ‘There are humans here,’ he [Aziraphale] said.
‘Yes,’ said Crowley. ‘And me.’
‘I mean we shouldn’t let this happen to them […] we’ve got them into enough trouble as it is. You and me. Over the years. […]
‘We were only doing our jobs,’ muttered Crowley.
‘Yes. So what? Lots of people in history have only done their jobs and look at the trouble they caused.’
‘You don’t mean we should actually try to stop Him?’
‘What have you got to lose?’ (P. 363)
Just as we do not get to see or hear God (the ultimate good), in Book!Omens we do not get to see Satan either. In the Dramatis Personae at the beginning, Satan is defined as “the Adversary”. And rightly so. If God is that ineffable goodness, Satan is the ineffable badness. Hence why, once Adam is rejecting to obey his nature out of sheer generosity (goodness) Satan stars raising to scold him. It is the ultimate attempt of all evil in the world (all selfishness, all self-entitlement) to take things back to the status quo. But it is to late already. What Satan (evil) is about to face when he raises up is a compactly united world where everybody has accepted ad embraced their opposite. The Them cherish the Johnsonites; the Witch and the Witchfinder love each other; Madam Tracy and Shadwell are together. And the two agents, the angel and the demon, have just finally told each other that they are together not because the circumstance have forced them to, but because the appreciate each other.
That is exactly why I would argue that their love confession of sorts in the books is as powerful as the final Ritz scene in the series. All throughout the story, Aziraphale and Crowley have tried to tell themselves that their relationship, the Arrangement, steams out of circumstances:
“It was the sort of sensible arrangement that many isolated agents, working in awkward conditions a long way from their superiors, reach with their opposite number when they realize that they have more in common with their immediate opponents than their remote allies.” (P. 43)
“They got along. They nearly understood one another He [Aziraphale] sometimes suspected they had far more in common with one another than with their respective superiors.” (P. 234)
Hence why their open declaration right before facing the Adversary becomes so striking. As readers we have been able to recognise all along that the angel and the demon like each other, even if they do not want to admit so. But once faced with utter destruction, and ready to try to protect the humanity out of pure generosity and acceptance for humans as they are, they become free to accept each other openly as well. And they do so by acknowledging the impossible in the other. Thus, Aziraphale, the one who was wrapped up in a black&white discourse of right and wrong tells Crowley that there is good in him. Meanwhile, Crowley, the one imbued in a all-against-all system based on appearances and excitement, tells the old-fashioned and bookish angel that he is enough of a bastard to be worth liking. Try to imagine a communist saying to a capitalist that there is good in them and you will get how powerful a confession that is. Try to imagine a wolf of Wallstreet saying to a leftist intellectual that they are enough of a bastard to be cool and likeable and you will get how unlikely a confession that is.
Pratchett and Gaiman eventually come to exemplify how powerless evil is when faced with such a united world, where all are supporting one another despite their differences. Satan does not make it to the surface because it has already been defeated. In the end, in Book!Omens each and every single character relies so much so on the others that as it has been pointed out by many, there is no individual hero. It is not that Aziraphale and Crowley are useless. It is that they needed to rely on humanity as much as humanity needed for them to leave their sides. Just as Adam could not have made it without the Them and the Johnsonites, Anathema could not have been successful without Newt, and Newt would still be the outsider without Anathema. The same applies to Madam Tracy and Shadwell. And that is the whole point of Book!Omens: there is no single hero, no James Bond. Instead, Armageddon, the Adversary, the Cold War are prevented when opposites embrace each other and accept each other. Because the miniseries has been made at a different time, it is accordingly more focused on what is most missing in nowadays ultra-liberal world: love and tenderness, the brave act of allowing oneself to be soft and vulnerable, to confide in others. Paradoxically, what we lack in our current, extremely individualistic world, is the ability to accept ourselves as we are, and demand to treat others and be treated by others with tenderness. But at the time of Book!Omens, the most punk and radical act was paradoxically to abandon two incredibly well-established discourses, two solid blocks that offered equally solid definitions of good vs wrong. Instead, the bravest act was to choose to adhere no narrative, and take part for nobody but humanity itself, embracing all of it. What makes both Good Omens the same work is the struggle for freedom; what makes them different is what that freedom is. But in both Book!Omens and Series!Omens not fighting for freedom entails the same danger: eventually the most precious thing would be lost, namely, the world itself, be it humanity or the most loved being on Earth.
Accordingly, on the first day of the rest of their lives the only two agents to be found at St James’s Park turn out to be working for the same side, although neither of them realised so, to their mutual embarrassment. Aziraphale and Crowley were also on the same side all along, although they did not –or wanted not– to acknowledge so. But now that they have embraced each other, they are free. Like their human counterparts, they are no longer under the influence of Above, Below, or even the Past (as is the case of Anathema). Very much like the rest of the characters, they can look at the future freely and with their own eyes and minds. And so, a nightingale sings in Berkeley Square and an angel and a demon dine at the Ritz.
