Your Front Row Seat to the End of the World

Good Omens 

by Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman

p. 1990

Good Omens is a book that wants to be read.

It doesn’t want much else. It doesn’t want to be revered or lauded nor does it want to be proverbially ripped apart (though if you ask its two loving fathers, it would very much like you physically beat the crap out of it, at least enough to show some wear and tear). Good Omens wants you to be amused and entertained and to love it dearly for 300-odd pages. Then it wants you to tell all your friends. It may not be able to articulate exactly why, but it’s insistent that once you’ve read it... you’ll know.

From the history surrounding this comedic tale, it seems that this work of fiction—much like the universe and humanity itself—happened through a confluence of events that appear very much like an accident. Terry Pratchett was a somewhat established writer in the fantasy genre and Neil Gaiman was just starting out and a fortuitous interview of the former by the latter inevitably led to a plot several years in the making. Two authors just trying to pick the other’s brain and make them laugh led, quite appropriately, to the story of an angel and a demon, unlikely friends in the end times, just trying to do their jobs and maintain a sort of friendship.

Crowley and Aziraphale are the demon and angel characters respectively, and they have cultivated their unusual companionship since the beginning of time—which, contrary to scientific belief, was only about 6000 or so years ago. They, along with a cast of characters as equally charismatic as themselves, must navigate the impending apocalypse as Heaven and Hell prepare to duke it out over the soul of a young boy, the Antichrist, who doesn’t know what he is yet. Also entwined in this convoluted plot are a young woman, descendent of the author of a book of prophesies that predicted this mess, a couple of witchfinders, a fortune teller, four precocious children, a not-quite-of-this-earth dog, and the Horsemen of the Apocalypse, appropriately reincarnated for modern times in the form of bikers.

I generally liked all of the plot threads; though it skipped around quite often, I didn’t find it too hard to pick up where I left off. Everything involving Dog’s point of view was gold, as was Shadwell, the last head witchfinder, whose richly-depicted dialogue was a delight to pick apart every time he spoke. Every character in this book had a ‘voice’ that you could really hear in your head, transcending the pages on which it was written.

I found myself, at times, a little impatient with the children's plot, especially about halfway through when it took over the novel for a time. They got a bit tiresome, especially seeing as the heart of this novel is the friendship between Crowley and Aziraphale, who vanished for a time to let the others take center stage, and weren’t reunited until the end of the story.

Reading this book, I couldn’t help but feel that the TV show Supernatural took some of its cues from Gaiman and Pratchett. The Horsemen evolution was one thing—though in the Supernatural-verse, the Horseman drive fancy cars as opposed to motorcycles, and then of course there are the striking similarities between each story’s version of the demon Crowley, though I would have to say that Supernatural’s Crowley has a definite agenda that Good Omens’ Crowley explicitly lacks. That is one thing that struck me about this book as being a distinctly British quality: the characters, though often in positions of considerable power, never seem to take things too seriously and rarely seem to have any idea what is going on. It is a classic trait of farcical literature that makes this book so darkly comical. Here are characters literally deciding the fate of mankind and their thoughts are preoccupied by old books, expensive cars, and childish games. It’s hilarious in its absurdness.

It was impossible decipher which parts were Gaiman’s ideas and which parts were Pratchett’s because these two authors blend together so seamlessly. Being that this was also my first foray into Pratchett’s repertoire, I expect I wouldn’t have much say on that topic in general, but I certainly intend to seek out more of his work now. The efforts of these two authors, over the course of some years, has certainly paid off in the form of this cult favorite, and their ability to create a story that—in spite of its absurdity—makes perfect sense is what I had always hoped to accomplish writing stories with my friends growing up (and may still do one day!). They just fit together.

Gaiman and Pratchett share a common interest that many book lovers and aspiring writers can relate to; they don’t want their book to change the world. They just want people to read it and to love it and to pass it on to all their friends, and I intend to do just that.