[Spoiler warning for Good Omens 2]
We need to talk about Crowley and Aziraphale as a trans allegory.
Well, we don’t need to. I need to. But you’ll be kind enough to listen, I think.
Like many fans of Good Omens, I have been grappling with That Ending for season 2 and all the emotions it forced out of me. Now, I don’t want to be a boring old queer who can’t turn on the TV without pointing, Leonardo DeCaprio-meme style, at the appearance of any character I might remotely connect with. But I have been turning over all these thoughts in my head about gender, transness, and what it means to be true to yourself ever since the credits rolled on episode 6, and I am going to make these thoughts everyone else’s problem.
I say Crowley and Aziraphale are a trans allegory because, as celestial beings, they don’t experience gender as understood by humans. As Neil Gaiman, co-author of the novel, showrunner and co-writer of the television experience, explains, Aziraphale’s gender is “angel” and Crowley’s is “fallen angel.” I appreciate a good custom-made gender myself, so I will happily accept that these beloved characters exist in a way that my mortal mind can’t comprehend. However, the show doesn’t shy away from gender completely—characters with they/them pronouns abound, including the role played by nonbinary comedian Andrew O’Neill as a be-gowned guest and “spouse” at Aziraphale’s ball. So although Crowley and Aziraphale may not be literally trans in the way I am or you might be, they inhabit a world where gender nonconformity is a given.
Which isn’t surprising, considering the arc of season 2 so closely mirrors that of the modern-day trans experience.
Take Crowley, for example. People smarter than me have pointed out the beautiful costuming choices that allow him to bounce between masculine and feminine. Some of Crowley’s most iconic garb is, in fact, women’s clothing: the memorable turn as Nanny to the Antichrist in season 1; the coat cut for a lady in the flashback sequences to Resurrectionist-era Scotland in this recent season; oodles of sunglasses and jeans and accessories that eagle-eyed Tumblr users have matched to fashion labels aimed at women. The decision to dress Crowley like this goes deeper than showcasing noodle-limbed David Tennant’s physicality, although I’m sure that’s part of it. It also positions his character between two extremes, which is fitting for a demon who defies both heaven and hell. Is there anything more nonbinary than choosing your own side?
Crowley’s status as a nonbinary avatar was confirmed for me this season in a delightful exchange (where he’s called “a good lad” and immediately points out he’s not either. (I am reminded of the iconic Nichelle Nichols’s delivery of a similar line in Star Trek: TOS when called a fair maiden—“Sorry, neither.” All of my favorite characters have a pattern of eschewing labels that don’t fit, which probably should have been my first clue.) Does Crowley-as-nonbinary take on an even more profound meaning when we remember that Tennant has started wearing a nonbinary pride pin, reportedly as an expression of support for his nonbinary child and solidarity with the community? For me, it absolutely does.
And he’s not the only Good Omens actor to declare solidarity with the trans community. Way back at the release of season 1, Michael Sheen released his personal Good Omens-themed playlist which ends with the Burial track “Come Down to Us,” a dreamy electronic song that includes a 2012 speech by trans filmmaker Lana Wachowski about her journey of self-acceptance. I’m not saying Sheen deliberately incorporated transness into his portrayal of Aziraphale—but I’m not not saying that.
Look at the facts of Aziraphale’s character: he is an angelic being who has always tried, ostensibly, to follow the will of god until he joins Crowley in giving heaven, if not a huge middle finger, at least a polite so long for now at the end of season 1. He literally abandons his role. He insists on wearing the clothes he loves even though they’re a century out of date—a familiar occurrence among trans folks who come out later in life and find themselves making up for lost time, indulging in all the fashions they weren’t allowed pre-transition. He owns a bookshop, for god’s sake, the queerest and most noble profession there is (shoutout to my indies). In my reading of Sheen’s performance, Aziraphale is a trans man.
This makes the ending of season 2 all the more tragic. If Crowley is the nonbinary kid who was violently kicked out of his unwelcoming home at a tender age, then Aziraphale is the queer adult who is on the cusp of cutting ties with the family he never really fit in with. They say the path to healing is never a straight line and, boy oh boy, Aziraphale’s path is…not straight. This season ends with Aziraphale being offered something beyond his wildest dreams—the chance to return to heaven as a Supreme Archangel and fix the institution from the inside. It is painful yet understandable to me that Aziraphale would be tempted by such a thing. Acceptance, or the false promise of it, is a hell of a drug, especially after a lifetime of being forced to hide your true nature. It’s like telling a queer former Catholic, “Look, come back to the Church. We love the gays now. Not only that, but we’ve decided you should be Pope.” Wild.
Let’s not forget Crowley in all this! He is also welcome to return—as an angel. His former self. The self he has consistently told Aziraphale he isn’t any longer. To me, this reads as blatant pressure to go back into the closet. And Crowley, who is more used to being cast out than Aziraphale, is not having any of it. There is a reason we haven’t learned Crowley’s “angel name” and it ain’t because he’s cis. It’s because it’s rude to use someone’s deadname.
We could talk for days about that final confrontation in episode 6 and what it means for these characters and many people have, but as a trans nonbinary viewer, I am obsessed with how this show is juggling so many things: what it means to love yourself and what it means to love someone else; the ways we lie to each other and ourselves until we can’t anymore; how different two trans people’s experiences can be while still being so similar. And ultimately: the desire to be accepted versus the desire to be free. And what’s so fascinating about Crowley and Aziraphale playing this out is that it’s not so simple as one wanting one and the other wanting the opposite. Both of them want both those things, just in different ways. Good Omens has never been about right and wrong, good and evil. It’s about the things in between, the funny bits, the nuances, the ways humans and, yes, angels and demons can be something other than what they’re “supposed” to be.
And I’m not going to shut up about how trans it is, though I might quiet down a little if Amazon Prime Video gives us a season 3.
(image: Prime Video)
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TJ Alexander is the author of several acclaimed trans and nonbinary romance novels. Their next book, Second Chances in New Port Stephen, is now available for preorder.
