The end in upon us . . . just after Saturday teatime.
Published: 1990
Genre: Urban Fantasy
CW: Death, War, Homophobia, Racism, Violence, Fire, Fatphobia, Car Accident
Rating: ⭐⭐⭐⭐ (4/5)
As the only ethereal (and occult) beings to have lived on Earth for the past 6,000 years, the angel Aziraphale and the demon Crowley have grown rather fond of the planet. So when the legions of Heaven and Hell announce that Armageddon is only 11 years away, the two friends conduct a brilliant plan to stop the Rapture from happening. The only problem?
They have somehow lost the Antichrist.
I first read Good Omens when I was 13 or 14 years old. I was at that stage in life where I wanted to read more adult literature, even though I didn't necessarily have enough life experience or critical thinking skills to fully understand it. In fact, I can't actually remember if I finished the novel my first time around or just read enough for the main plot points and jokes to bury into my subconscious.
After the first season of the BBC and Amazon Prime adaptation of the novel aired in 2019, I figured I should give the book a second chance. I had grown more familiar with the respective works of Neil Gaiman and the late Sir Terry Pratchett since my last read-through and had thoroughly enjoyed this latest adaptation, so I was curious to see if the novel had held up as well as I remembered.
The answer was, "Mostly."
Let's get my criticisms out of way first. A major aspect of the book that my nostalgia had glossed over was how much casual racism appears throughout. Although both Pratchett and Gaiman's works are known for including a lot of diversity, and the latter has been open about his past ignorance and letting adaptations of his novels make changes to fit with more modern sensibilities, it's quite clear reading this novel that it was written by two white men in the late 80s. The most egregious examples of this poorly aged comedy being Witchfinder Newt Pulsifer's Japanese car, whose radio speaks in broken English, and the medium Madame Tracey's "Indian spirit guide" she uses to perform seances.
I also noticed that the balance between storylines wasn't as even as it could have been. And I understand that in a story with as many characters as this one, some are going to get more time in the spotlight than others, but it seemed strange to me that Crowley disappears for almost the entire middle third of the novel despite being one of the main characters. There is also a scene where the demon Hastur, one of the major antagonists, dramatically escapes a trap Crowley placed him in, vowing revenge, only to never appear again in the rest of the novel. It seemed an odd place to leave that storyline.
Now, Gaiman did scrap several of these issues in the latest adaptation, so if you want to experience a more polished version of this story, I'd recommend giving that a watch. But if you can accept this book as a product of its time, I still think it's worth a read, especially since there are a lot of elements that had to be sacrificed in making the series.
Good Omens is a wonderful example of British comedy in that it's incredibly witty but can often take a while to warm up to. I will admit that during the first few chapters, I found myself thinking, "I know that this technically funny, but I'm feeling a little disconnected." But then I was hit with a delayed punchline to a supposedly throwaway joke about Elvis, and I was immediately onboard. The text is brimming with character, both figuratively and literally, as each chapter open with a cheeky decorative initial in the style of Medieval illuminated manuscripts (my favourite being the snake in sunglasses wrapped around an "I"). Pratchett and Gaiman's writing blends so well together that it's almost impossible to guess who wrote what. Though there are a few instances where it's easy to guess: Agnes Nutter, the witch who was burned at the stake for her prophetic visions about daily exercise, and the satanic nuns of the Chattering Order of St. Beryl both seem like rejected concepts from Pratchett's Discworld series. An office of telemarketers getting eaten by demonic maggots pouring out of their telephone receivers, meanwhile . . . well, that's just an average Gaiman scene.
What the novel really excels at, however, is it realistic portrayal of children. Most synopses of Good Omens tend to focus solely on Crowley and Aziraphale — and, as you can tell from my summary at the top of this page, I'm just as guilty of that — but the real heart of the novel is Adam Young, the 11-year-old antichrist, and his friend group, known as The Them. I find that many authors, when writing children, tend to make them either completely innocent or full-on hell spawn. But Pratchett and Gaiman understand that children are complex and often contradictory creatures. The Them have absolutely no filter, saying whatever is on their mind. They're mean but kindhearted, incredibly naive but full of wisdom. And when Adam learns how unjust the world is, he struggles to decide whether to use his infernal powers to make everything "perfect" or to protect the things he holds most dear. Strip away the satanic nuns, angel and demons, witches and witchfinders, and you get a story about a group of children learning the dangers of radicalization.
Good Omens is an undeniably flawed book, but I find that quite fitting, as the story is a love letter to humanity and all its imperfections. We're not inherently good or evil, just human. And I think a flawed novel presents this truth better than any perfect one could.
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