Stumbled onto Amazon Prime's Good Omens adaptation

I am not honest when I say that I stumbled onto Good Omens. I was led there. I was led there by the late Sir Terry Pratchett, whom again I did not stumble upon. Now, this post might get a bit more personal than usual, but that was going to happen eventually, right?

I do not think you can call me a bookworm. Actually, people who do not read books may call me a bookworm, but real bookworms know. I had two older brothers growing up that would let me sit in during movies and series and therefore I was a kid destined to watch television. I did not really like books. I remember not liking books. Then Harry Potter happened, thankfully quite early on, before any real damage was done. I devoured these books, I read them quickly, I stayed up to finish chapters, I rushed to buy new ones the minute they came out and most annoyingly, I would not shut up about them. But that was it. Nothing else I was given to read caught my attention. It wasn’t the best selection of books anyway. I remember one about a kid who became good friends with a local inanimate tree and then got all his classmates to sit on top of it so they wouldn’t tear it down. And that was one of the good ones. I would read some funny ones here and there, ‘Petit Nicolas’ was a favourite, some other humorous Greek books I will not bore you with, but I would most likely go back and re-read ‘Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban’ for the umpth time.

And then my cousin started reading Terry Pratchett and read me an extract from ‘Mort’ during dinner, half reading half laughing. And life was never the same. I don’t think I knew books could be that funny, that you could laugh more reading about a giant turtle carrying four elephants on its back carrying a disk of a world than watching ‘Friends’. It was a shock. The Discworld novels were so absurd, it finally felt like a match for an eleven year old with a vivid imagination and gave me a taste of good, well-written comedy. So my cousin is single-handedly to blame for all the hours I’ve wasted watching late night, stand-up and English panel shows. It naturally flowed that after the Discworld novels I would come across Good Omens. A masterpiece co-written by two heroes of the sci-fi genre; the aforemtioned Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman. The book was brilliant, it dealt with such a taboo subject, such as the antichrist bringing about the end of the world, exactly how Pratchett dealt with everything in his wonderful Discworld; as a joke. It’s only instance of possible blasphemy is refusing to engage in an argumentative debate regarding religion. Religion is simply a background for an angel, Aziraphael, and a demon, Crowley, who have come to love and enjoy earth and see beyond predetermined good and evil. And so many more hilarious characters; a witch, a dead witch, a witch-hunter, a fake witch-hunter, the Antichrist, his cute little devil-hound, his group of friends, the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse, the Other Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse and a couple of humans. And this selection of absurdity fits into a narrative and even has a message about nurture and choice (I think).

Then, Terry Pratchett passed away after battling with Alzheimer’s and instructed his friend Neil Gaiman to make Good Omens into a mini-series. Neil Gaiman was apparently anxious, but the rest of us were delighted! This would be an amazing series and hopefully a predecessor to a Discworld series? (nudge, nudge, wink, wink). It was announced that Neil Gaiman himself would adapt this for television. Great! His work in American Gods (Season 1) was incredible. It was then announced that David Tennant and Martin Sheen would portray the protagonists. I almost cried! It was then announced that Jon Hamm and Jack Whitehall would join the cast. Well, then I did cry. But recently, book adaptations have disappointed fans with a rushed manoeuvre and a trade-off between expensive CGI and character development (if you are reading this in 2019 you probably know which series I am referring to). The stakes were high, and my excitement was subtly co-inhabiting with anxiety. Unnecessary anxiety.

Of course the show was great! Of course its adaptation was appropriate and the depiction beautiful. Of course it was special; it traded in grim, crude realism for optimism, humour and imagination. It was different to anything else currently on television and felt like a much necessary addition. And most importantly, fans were left satisfied and newcomers were probably left triggered. It was an adaptation alright, and of course some cuts were made. But if you can cut fan favourites like the Other Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse and get almost zero complaints, you have probably done something right. I think the show did more than 'something right'. It was hilarious, beautifully shot and, in a way, was also a celebration of humanity. Not necessarily up in your face, but the ultimate prevention of Armageddon came about from letting the antichrist grow up to be human; sometimes good, sometimes bad and in need of companionship. And these also characterised the two main protagonists, Aziraphael and Crowley; they were driven by companionship and understood that good and bad were not necessarily absolutes.

There is something special about fantasy and something particularly special about treating a strong story with a light-hearted manner. You might have noticed that I mostly talk about Terry Pratchett and not Neil Gaiman; that is because I have only read his work and because I honestly loved him as a writer. However, it is the ultimate irony that the central motive for the characters in this book was companionship and that is also what made this book great. They loved writing it together, we loved reading it and we also loved watching it. And to conclude, here is a piece of the afterword from the book, which simply gives me a lot of joy when picturing their collaboration.

‘The point they both realised the text had wondered into its own world was in the basement of the old Gollancz books, where they’d got together to proofread the final copy, and Neil congratulated Terry on a line that Terry knew he hadn’t written, and Neil was certain he hadn’t written either. They both privately suspect that at some point the book had started to generate text on its own, but neither of them will actually admit this publicly for fear of being thought odd.’