Heavenly love at the end of the world

The TV spin-off of Good Omens rose and rose to success on Amazon Prime over the week. The spillover on social media has been adorable: Fans illustrated picnics Aziraphale and Crowley might have taken, them walking down the aisle at a church, only so that the demon could cock-a-snook at God for tempting his loyal servant, sweet pecks on the lips between the two best friends, who have been down in this dump since time started.

In the 29 years that have passed since Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman wrote the book in 1990, the world has been warmed up to accept racial and gender fluidity. On screen. God is female, as is Archangel Michael, Pollution is non-binary and Asian, Famine is black, Pepper and Anathema are mixed race. All slipped in with demonic ease, and authentically so when you consider that both nations represented — Britain and America — do have a sizeable population of immigrants and, on the surface, encourage inclusion and expression of sexuality. The book showed the triumph of nurture over nature, with a pre-teen Antichrist defying his almighty father below earth like his father on it, and sneaking away to play with friends instead of sticking to the Armageddon plan. Where the book was about the end of (all) days, the TV series is utterly and really about love; wanting to save the world because it has your love’s second-hand bookstore and his favourite restaurants. And while a demon could save himself by scooting off to Alpha Centauri, he needs to stick around because his angel has a tendency to find himself inches from the guillotine during the French revolution because he fancied a crepe. Crowley would risk having his hoofs seared off in church to bail out Aziraphale, who thinks he can outwit Nazis.

Meanwhile, in the same country, in the real world, two women were beaten up bloody — by boys aged between 15 and 18 — because they refused to kiss each other for their gratification. One of them had a jaw broken. “The violence is not only because we are women who are dating each other,” Melania Geymonat said later, “It’s also because we are women.” Figures released by London’s Metropolitan Police show an 18 per cent rise in homophobic and transgender attacks from May 2017 to April 2018. It’s not clear how many of them were perpetrated by women, but as far as daily scanning of crime news shows, not too many feel an urge to beat up men who do not kiss for their titillation. Male gay porn, and this deduction comes from a place of utterly inadequate research, does not have as many fans among the non-violent sex as the male.

Bear in mind, coiled anger sits like a throbbing dynamo in most women, especially in developing countries. Like Hulk – terrible miscast as a CIS man – that’s her secret: She’s always angry. But perhaps the world redone by young Adam Young in Good Omens bears this change. Crowley and Aziraphale are mature, everyday women ensconced in a cushy partnership. Bickering, teasing, safe in deep knowledge of each other and the comfort that comes from the security that the other will always keep them safe. One partner magicking the stain out from the other’s jacket even as she whines about it. Keeping a book as a memento from a shop that burned down, driving slower because she might say “You are too fast for me, demon”. Holding hands on the bus while going back home after a day at Portobello Road Market. Never having to kiss for others.