Every
Friday night, my family celebrates Shabbat by saying the prayers, eating
challah and … watching British fantasy/sci-fi television.
For several
years now, the Shabbat candles have shimmered their earnest little lights on
the dining room table, as we have gathered a few feet away in the living room
to bask in the LCD glow of “Sherlock Holmes,” “Dr. Who” and “Jonathan Strange
& Mr. Norrell.”
Most
recently, Shabbat has meant a family viewing of “Good Omens,” Amazon’s six-part
series adaptation of Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett’s novel of the same name.
While none of our TV viewing choices (or, indeed, the choice to view TV at all
on Shabbat) could be described as “Jewish,” our weekly intake of “Good Omens” seemed
to be the least Jewy of all.
Centered
around an odd-couple relationship between an angel and demon who attempt to
avert a New Testament-style apocalypse, there are exactly no Jewish people or
allusions to Judaism anywhere in the show. Even the flashback scenes involving
Old Testament stories, such as the Garden of Eden or Noah’s Ark, predate
Abraham, obviating the need to deal with the People of the Book. Or, for that
matter, the Book. (For what it’s worth, there is also no mention of Islam,
Buddhism, Hinduism or any other “isms.” Wiccans, however, get good billing.)
Despite
the decidedly un-small-c-Catholic perspective of the show, I felt as drawn to
these perfectly imperfect Christian archetypes as I do to Miriam Maisel.
A Jewish fan
of the book posted a question on Gaiman’s blog about whether the author’s
Jewish heritage informed the characters, particularly the demon Crowley, who often
questions the morality of G-d’s actions.
Gaiman
responded: “I think my Jewish heritage influenced how the whole of ‘Good Omens’
was written. You can’t be familiar with the midrash and also assume that anyone
in the Bible has any idea what’s actually going on, after all. And Crowley is
someone who asks questions.”
But I
think there is something even more distinctly Jewish underlying this bit of
Christian theological fan fiction. The story wouldn’t work at all if it weren’t
for the relationship between Michael Sheen’s angel Aziraphale and David
Tennant’s demon Crowley. The two actors play off each other brilliantly, making
their character’s unlikely friendship deeply believable.
And that’s
where, I think, the true Jewishness of the story comes in. The characters, who
should have been sworn enemies, cling to each other as they are the only angel
and demon on Earth. They have little in common with their warmongering brethren
“upstairs” or “downstairs,” and they are obviously not human. So, they are the
perennially wandering “others.” A tribe of two who work together to
(pre-emptively) repair the world.
The Jewish
fan who asked Gaiman about Judaism’s influenced thanked the author for making
“it possible for me to experience a tradition that often excludes me.” To that
particular fan, Gaiman’s Jewish influences made the book, and I’m assuming the
show, more widely relatable.
As the
series came to a satisfying, clever and (spoiler alert) non-disastrous end, I
could see from the corner of my eye the wisp of smoke that rises when the last
orange glow of the Shabbat candle ashes away.
Yes, Gaiman’s
strong understanding of Judaism likely made the show more relatable. But, in
the end, it was a strong relationship that made the show just a little bit
Jewish.
Originally published in OC Jewish Life.
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