Themes
Key
LitCharts assigns a color and icon to each theme in Good Omens, which you can use to track the themes throughout the work.
Good and Evil
Human Nature
Destiny vs. Free Will
Humor and Absurdity
Friendship
Summary
Analysis
While people have tried to figure out the exact date that the Universe was created, all have failed. The Earth was created on Sunday, October 21, 4004 B.C.E., around 9:00 a.m., and the dinosaur skeletons are a joke. This proves that God is mysterious and is playing “an ineffable game of His own devising” that’s comparable to playing poker in a dark room, with blank cards and a dealer who won’t share the rules. The Earth is also a Libra. In the astrology section of the Tadfield Advertiser, on the day that this story begins, the prediction reads that Libras are feeling run down, and that home and family are important and in trouble. Libras should avoid risks, keep their friends close, wait to make decisions, and expect help from unexpected sources. All of this is correct.
Within the world of the novel, it’s impossible to understand what God might have planned for humankind—but at times, as in the astrology section of the Tadfield Advertiser, people can come pretty close to figuring it out. Notably, though, the prediction for Libras on this day is extremely vague. Anyone who reads this prediction could find some kernel of truth in it—suggesting that destiny is, in many ways, all about what people make of it.
Themes
On night that isn’t dark or stormy, two demons lurk in a graveyard, waiting for someone who’s late. That someone is Crowley, the mastermind behind the M25 motorway (which is shaped like an evil sigil and pollutes the world with evil). Crowley is currently driving 110 miles per hour in his 1926 Bentley, which he’s owned since he got it new. He’s listening to a Best of Queen tape, but this doesn’t say much about him—all tapes that spend more than two weeks in a car morph into Best of Queen.
Readers can infer that Crowley, the creature that the two demons are waiting for, is also a demon, given that he created a motorway that apparently emanates evil. The name Crowley is also quite similar to Crawly, the demon from the previous chapter, which hints that Crowley is the new name that Crawly chose for himself. Whereas his old name was clearly associated with serpents (biblical symbols of evil and sin) who crawl and slither, his new one sounds more like a name that a human being would have. This choice perhaps implies that Crowley wants to distance himself from his fated role as a demon and is instead trying to blend into human society and enjoy what Earth has to offer. This is further evidenced by Crowley’s Bentley and cassette tape—these are rather humorous and absurd possessions for a demon to have, but they nevertheless suggest that Crowley loves his earthly comforts.
Themes
Crowley looks like an attractive man wearing snakeskin shoes—but he’s able to do strange things with his tongue, doesn’t blink much, and tends to hiss when he’s flustered. He’s late because he’s enjoying the 20th century, which is much more interesting than previous centuries. Crowley is also currently being pursued by the police, but he’s able to stop the police car with a complicated hand gesture.
Crowley’s snakeskin shoes and serpent-like habits are further evidence that he is indeed the demon Crawly. In addition, his lighthearted enjoyment of the 20th century confirms that he likes what the human world has to offer. He’d seemingly rather take on a human name, drive a fun car, and listen to exciting music than attend a meeting with other demons.
Themes
The two demons in the graveyard, Hastur and Ligur, see lights coming. Hastur tries to explain to Ligur what a car is (Ligur hasn’t been on Earth in a long time) and sneers that Crowley has “gone native.” Crowley gets out of his Bentley and cheerfully greets the other demons, but Hastur cuts Crowley off and says that they must recount the Deeds of the Day: Hastur tempted a priest, while Ligur corrupted a politician. With a huge smile, Crowley shares that he tied up every portable phone system in Central London for 45 minutes. Ligur and Hastur aren’t impressed. Crowley doesn’t know how to tell them that by making everyone angry, he tarnished thousands of souls. But Ligur and Hastur are antiquated: they prefer to pick souls off one at a time, even though times are changing.
Hastur confirms that Crowley is having too much fun while carrying out his demonic duties on Earth—he’s “gone native,” or adopted human habits and traits that conflict with his demon identity. Crowley shows that this is true when his Deed of the Day doesn’t impress his colleagues. He’s clearly adapted to modern life on Earth and now spends his time coming up with ways to marry his enjoyment of the human world with his job of spreading evil and causing harm.
Themes
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Hastur reaches behind a tombstone for a basket, which contains the demons’ reason for meeting. Crowley stares at whatever is in the basket and says no, but Hastur insists that it’s time for Crowley to play his starring role in the end of the world. He gives Crowley a clipboard and asks him to sign with his real name. Crowley takes the basket, looking morose, and drives away. Once he’s far away from the graveyard, he rams a tape of Vivaldi’s Four Seasons into the Bentley’s tape player and mutters, “Why me?” The tape plays Queen instead of Vivaldi: the voice of Freddie Mercury says that Crowley has earned it, and that he’s going to receive his instructions. Sure enough, “Below” drops the instructions right into Crowley’s brain, telling him to drive to a certain hospital, and Crowley promises to be there in five minutes.
Asking Crowley to sign with his “real” name (Crawly) reminds readers that Crowley is just an identity that this being assumes in order to fit in and enjoy life on Earth—it’s not who he really is. This sets the stage for Crowley to have an identity crisis, as he’s seemingly reluctant to associate himself with his demonic side and carry out the duties that have been thrust open him. Even when Crowley tries to enjoy things that the human world offers, like music, it seems that “Below” (Hell) is always able to interrupt him. This makes Crowley feel out of control and powerless, further suggesting that there’s more to his identity than the evil deeds Below expects him to do. It’s unclear what’s in the basket— but whatever it is, it’s going to play a role in the end of the world, which Crowley doesn’t seem to want any part in.
Themes
Crowley hits the steering wheel. Everything was going so well—but now, Armageddon is upon him. Once it arrives, there will be only endless Heaven or endless Hell, depending on which side wins. Crowley can’t decide which outcome would be worse, since it’s impossible to get a good drink in either place. But he can’t get out of this mission, since demons don’t have free will. Meanwhile, the newborn thing in the basket starts to wail.
It’s telling that, despite the fact that Crowley works for Hell on Earth, he’s not excited by the prospect of living in endless Hell. The novel humorously suggests that one can’t have fun in either Heaven or Hell, meaning that a balance—a combination of things one might consider good and evil—is what makes the world an interesting place.
Themes
Mr. Young thinks that the hospital is nice—except for the nuns. He normally likes nuns, but the Chattering Order of St. Beryl talk constantly. On the plus side, they overrode Mr. Young’s wife, Deirdre, and refused to let Mr. Young in the room for the birth. Presently, he leaves the waiting room to go smoke on the porch. As he lights up, a large black car skids up, and a young man leaps out with a baby carrier. The man asks if it’s started and how long they have. Mr. Young assumes that this man is a doctor, and he’s proud to be recognized as a parent. He shares that Deidre is in room three, and the man races away.
The large black car is, presumably, Crowley in his Bentley—and the novel has confirmed that he has a baby with him. Crowley’s flustered, rushed state in this moment reiterates that he isn’t excited to be performing this task, whatever it is. But clearly, he doesn’t feel like he can choose not to carry out whatever he was assigned to do. Mr. Young, meanwhile, doesn’t seem to know what’s going on—he assumes that Crowley is a doctor who’s going to assist with Deidre’s delivery rather than demon who’s come to wreak havoc. This hints that the Youngs may be clueless victims of whatever evil task Crowley is going to perform.
Themes
A mix-up is going to take place. In Delivery Room Three is Deirdre Young, who will have a blond baby boy (Baby A). The American Cultural Attaché’s wife, Harriet Dowling, is in Delivery Room Four, also having a blond baby boy (Baby B). In the hallway, the scatterbrained Sister Mary Loquacious—a lifelong Satanist—accepts the Antichrist, a blond baby boy, from Crowley. She marvels that he’s awfully cute and normal looking for being the Antichrist. At Crowley’s suggestion, Sister Mary heads for the delivery rooms and settles the baby in a bassinet. Then, an older nun appears and tells Sister Mary to head for Room Four. She assures Sister Mary that the exchange will happen in due course, but they need to distract the father.
Here, Crowley’s assignment becomes clear: he’s supposed to switch the baby Antichrist with the Dowlings’ baby boy. However, Sister Mary is going to accidentally place the Antichrist (whom Crowley has delivered to the hospital) with the Youngs instead of with the Dowlings. By cluing readers in to the coming mix-up, the book shows that it’s all too easy to make mistakes—it’s part of being human, and this tendency to make mistakes can be darkly humorous. The nuns all seem to be in on the switch, suggesting that the Chattering Order of St. Beryl is a Satanist order rather than a Christian one. It’s interesting that Sister Mary describes the infant Antichrist as looking cute and normal, like any other newborn. This suggests that the Antichrist—the son of Satan—might not be as obviously abnormal or evil as one might expect. While this may indicate that even evil can look surprisingly normal, it might also suggest that the baby isn’t actually evil at all.
Themes
Sister Mary wheels the Antichrist into Mrs. Young’s room. Mrs. Young is fast asleep, and Baby A has been tagged. Sister Mary copies out a duplicate nametag and attaches it to the Antichrist. Having completed her job, she thinks about the members of the convent; most of them are old-fashioned Satanists and aren’t all that evil. The narrator notes that when it comes to human affairs, most triumphs and tragedies happen not because people are fundamentally good or bad—it’s because people are “fundamentally people.”
The older nun told Sister Mary to head for Room Four (that of the Dowlings), but Sister Mary is headed to Room Three (that of the Youngs) instead. Clearly, the mistake is starting to take shape. Sister Mary thinks that she’s doing her job here, so it’s clear that she’s not intentionally giving the Antichrist to the wrong family. Although she’s a Satanist doing the bidding of demons, she doesn’t seem to want to wreak any more havoc than necessary by giving the Antichrist to the wrong couple. As the narrator suggests, Sister Mary is only human—a person who makes mistakes, like any other.
Themes
When someone knocks on the door, Sister Mary opens it: it’s Mr. Young. Thinking that Mr. Young the American Cultural Attaché, Sister Mary is surprised—she expected him to be more handsome, but she swallows her disappointment and congratulates Mr. Young. She points to the baby Antichrist and tells Mr. Young that this is his baby. Then, she notes that he doesn’t have much of an accent and asks if he’s been here long. Mr. Young says that he’s been here for about 10 years, since his job moved. He appreciates that Sister Mary seems interested in his accounting job, though he finds the thread of the conversation hard to follow. Finally, he asks if he could get a cup of tea. Sister Mary confirms that he doesn’t want coffee instead of tea and then bustles away.
This exchange is humorous because Sister Mary believes she’s talking to the American Cultural Attaché, not a local Englishman—and Mr. Young is simply flattered to be treated like he’s important. With this, the novel implies that anything can be funny if one has the right perspective—in this case, the perspective of someone who’s aware of differences between English and American culture. This is why Sister Mary offers Mr. Young coffee: she mistakenly believes that he’s an American, so he’d rather drink coffee than tea.
Themes
Mr. Young falls into a chair and decides that Sister Mary is so odd because she’s a nun. Sister Mary arrives with tea and biscuits and slowly explains that English people call refer to cookies as biscuits. Just then, a nun rushes in. Seeing Mr. Young, she points to Baby A and winks. When Sister Mary winks back, the nun wheels the baby out. Though Sister Mary interprets the wink as praise for switching the babies, the nun’s wink was actually asking where the Antichrist is—it’s time to switch him with Baby B. The nun may have noticed Sister Mary’s mistake had she not been so rattled by the Secret Service agents in Mrs. Dowling’s room.
Here, Sister Mary’s mistake becomes even more obvious to readers: the Antichrist was supposed to be switched with the son of Mrs. Dowling and the American Cultural Attaché, not with the Youngs’ son. Again, although Sister Mary is a Satanist, and her involvement in this plan clearly associates her with the demonic, she isn’t being any more evil than her role calls for—switching the babies incorrectly is an accident. With this, the novel shows again that all human beings are guaranteed to make mistakes. Some might be more consequential than others, but it’s an expected part of being human.
Themes
Meanwhile, eight-and-a-half-year-old Anathema Device reads from The Book. It’s not a children’s book, and it has few pictures in it, aside from a woodcut of Agnes Nutter being burned at the stake. But Anathema likes to read about herself, so the first sentence she ever read out loud was about several groups of people who “shal ryd in flames” that no angel or demon can stop—and The Book says that Anathema will be there too. This book also includes stories about Anathema’s parents and grandparents, but nothing about Anathema’s future children—or her future further out than 11 years. If one believes The Book, though, the next 11 years is a lifetime.
At this point, it’s unclear who Anathema is or exactly how she fits into the story. The fact that this vignette is presented alongside the Antichrist’s story suggests that Anathema will somehow be involved in the end-of-the-world scenario that the Hastur and Ligur implied the Antichrist would bring about. And indeed, The Book that Anathema is reading seems to be a book of prophecies concerning the end of the world—but the novel also suggests that The Book’s accuracy is a matter of opinion, and that it depends on whether a person believes in it or not. If The Book is to be believed, it implies that in 11 years’ time, life as the novel’s characters know it will cease to exist.
Themes
At the hospital, the nuns swap Baby A and Baby B. The Cultural Attaché isn’t here in person, but he was on the phone with Mrs. Dowling through the birth. He’s thrilled, and he got the Secret Service to tape the birth.
Switching between these various vignettes gives the impression that all these events are happening simultaneously and working together to bring about some future event—likely the end of the world that Hastur and Ligur want Crowley to usher in via the Antichrist. This speaks to how interconnected the world is: everyone and everything, both good and evil, plays a role.
Themes
Driving away from the hospital in his Bentley, Crowley thinks that he’ll have to start enjoying the world’s pleasures now, while there’s still time. In general, Crowley supports Armageddon, but he’d hoped it wouldn’t happen so soon. He likes people too much, which is a big problem for a demon. He works to make their lives miserable, but what he comes up with is nothing compared to what people come up with themselves. In the last thousand years, he’s considered sending a message Below telling them that they should give up, since people are nasty—and, unlike demons, people have imagination. Crowley was commended for the Spanish Inquisition, but he wasn’t actually responsible for it, and he was disturbed when he went to check it out.
Crowley seems to think of Armageddon as something that may be guaranteed to happen, but not for a very long time. This attitude seems to be partially rooted in Crowley’s grudging respect for and horrified awe of the human race. Human beings, Crowley believes, have the capacity to be extremely cruel, in part because they can come up with creative ways to hurt one another. Demons, he implies, don’t have this kind of creativity—and creativity, in his understanding, is essential to true evil.
Themes
At the same time, people can sometimes be exceedingly kind. Once, Aziraphale tried to explain this it to Crowley: he proposed that humans are good or bad because they want to be, unlike angels or demons, who are set in their ways. When Crowley insisted that that would only work if people start off equal, Aziraphale insisted that the lower a person starts, the more opportunities they have—it’s “ineffable.” Aziraphale is technically Crowley’s enemy, but since they’ve been enemies for 6,000 years, they’re sort of friends. Presently, Crowley picks up his car phone. He might not have free will, but he’s learned some things from humans.
Throughout the novel, both Crowley and Aziraphale insist that angels and demons are set in their ways as either good or evil, and that they don’t have free will. Unlike humans, in other words, they don’t have the capacity to grow, change, and make choices. However, Crowley upends this when he picks up the phone, presumably to call Aziraphale. He demonstrates that he does have some free will—he can choose to befriend someone who’s supposed to be his enemy, and to reach out to his friend when he needs help.
Themes
Back at the hospital, Mr. Young doesn’t like any of Sister Mary’s suggested names for the baby, like Damien or Wormwood. Mr. Young says that he prefers traditional English or Biblical names, so Sister Mary suggests Adam. Meanwhile, the narrator suggests that the reader come up with their own story of what happens to Baby B, as their version will be better.
The names Sister Mary suggests lean toward giving the Antichrist a name that would associate him with evil or with witchcraft. Suggesting Adam—after the first man God created in the Book of Genesis in the Bible—offers hope that the Antichrist could follow in the biblical Adam’s footsteps, ushering in a new era of humanity rather than bringing about Armageddon.
Themes
Meanwhile, in a small house in Surrey, 12-year-old Newton Pulsifer is working on changing a plug in an ancient radio. When Newton plugs in his radio, every light in the house goes out; this is better than last time, when he blacked out the whole town. Newton desperately wants to work with computers, which he thinks are the future. The future, though, has its own ideas, as laid out in The Book. At the same time, back in the hospital, Mr. Young decides to name the Antichrist Adam. Two days later, Ligur causes a bolt of lightning to strike the roof of the Convent of the Chattering Order and then heads home.
At this point, Newton Pulsifer seems to exist in the novel purely for comic relief—it’s funny that a boy who regularly shuts down the power supply of an entire city with a radio wants to work in computers (which are, of course, much more complicated and high-tech). Meanwhile, the fact that Ligur goes home after setting fire to the convent implies that he’s heading back to “Below,” or Hell. This suggests that Aziraphale and Crowley are perhaps the only angel and demon who live on Earth full-time.
Themes
Under other circumstances, Crowley and Aziraphale wouldn’t have become friends. But like so many other agents who work far away from their bosses, they’ve realized that they have more in common with each other than with their superiors. Their Arrangement consists of not meddling in the other’s activities, so that neither side really wins or loses. Now, they stand by the duck pond in St. James’ Park, a popular place for secret agents to meet. Crowley watches a traffic warden put a clamp on the back wheel of his Bentley as Aziraphale remarks that having the Antichrist be born to American parents seems very showy.
Here, the novel begins to examine how unlikely friendships come about. Without the immediate influence of Heaven and Hell, respectively, Aziraphale and Crowley have the opportunity to get to know each other without needing to impress their employers. In this situation, they’re able to learn that they actually have a lot in common—even if their superiors might like them to think otherwise.
Themes
Aziraphale says that his side will win Armageddon, but Crowley counters that Aziraphale doesn’t really want that—only two musicians have ever gone to Heaven. Aziraphale groans as Crowley notes that a win for Heaven would mean no more CDs, just celestial harmonies. For that matter, there won’t be any salt, restaurants, crossword puzzles, or bookshops. Aziraphale cries that life will be better after Heaven wins, but Crowley insists it won’t be as interesting. Aziraphale notes that his people are happy for Armageddon to happen, but Crowley says that it doesn’t have to happen. The seas don’t have to turn to blood; Crowley likes them as they are. And for that matter, God doesn’t have to “test everything to destruction.”
Aziraphale’s insistence that life will be better if Heaven wins begs the question of what better actually means. To take Crowley’s assessment as correct, life won’t be better—it’ll be boring, because all of the fun things that Aziraphale (and probably many readers) enjoy will cease to exist. It’s implied that this is because there is an element of evil or sinfulness in all of life’s pleasures (restaurants may be considered gluttonous, for example). As far as Crowley is concerned, it’s silly on God’s part to “test everything to destruction”—that is, come up with this plan that dooms His creation, just to see if he made it right. Whether or not God made it right seems, to Crowley, to be beside the point—the world is fun and interesting as it is, regardless of its creator’s intentions.
Themes
Aziraphale shivers from the cold and suggests that they go somewhere warm, so he and Crowley begin walking toward Crowley’s Bentley. Aziraphale admits that he agrees with Crowley, but he can’t disobey. Crowley says that he can’t either—his people only support disobedience when other people do it. As they slide into the Bentley, Aziraphale says that they probably have until the end of the century. Most prophets didn’t get into specifics about Armageddon, but phenomena like showers of fish or geese flying backwards are to be expected. Crowley snaps his fingers, and the wheel clamps fall off his car. He suggests that they have lunch at the Ritz—and just then, Aziraphale causes the traffic warden’s notebook to burst into flames. Aziraphale blushes—he thought that Crowley’s people invented traffic wardens.
When Aziraphale and Crowley both insist that they can’t disobey their superiors, it’s another indicator that they don’t feel like they have free will. Crowley’s statement that Hell only supports rebellion when it’s not its own employees also suggests that both Heaven and Hell are somewhat hypocritical in how they expect their employees to behave. The question of which side (Heaven or Hell) invented traffic wardens further suggests that there isn’t always a clear-cut division between good and evil—it’s possible to attribute traffic wardens to either side, depending on the evidence one uses.
Themes
Aziraphale is a book collector: he poses as a secondhand bookseller, using his bookshop to store his collection and making the store as uncomfortable as possible to prevent customers from buying anything. He specializes in books of predictions and the Infamous Bibles, which are named for their typesetting errors. One, known as the Buggre Alle This Bible, includes both a rant about the typesetter’s working conditions and three extra verses in Genesis. In this edition, after the angel drives Adam and Eve out of the Garden of Eden, the Lord asks the angel where his flaming sword went. The Angel insists that he can’t find it, and God doesn’t ask anything more about it.
Since Aziraphale is an angel, it’s humorous and somewhat ironic that he collects Bibles with misprints. He clearly delights in others’ mistakes and foibles, which suggests that he’s perhaps not immune from making mistakes himself. The extra verses in the Buggre Alle This Bible hearken back to Aziraphale losing his flaming sword in the first chapter; this particular interpretation suggests that God isn’t upset about it. With this, the novel implies that God’s plan is possibly more ineffable than even Aziraphale thought: even what he believed to be a mistake actually seems to be what God intended to happen.
Themes
The Buggre Alle This Bible was the publisher’s first great publishing disaster; their third was their decision to publish Agnes Nutter’s book of prophecies in 1655. It should’ve been a success, since everyone wanted prophetic works at the time, but it didn’t sell. It’s the only book of prophecies that’s entirely correct, and Agnes only published it to get her free author’s copy. Aziraphale doesn’t have a copy of Agnes’s book, though he’d love one. There’s only one copy left in the world—and it’s about 40 miles from where Crowley and Aziraphale are eating lunch. Metaphorically speaking, the book has started to “tick.”
Previously, a woodcut of Agnes Nutter being burned at the stake appeared in “The Book” that Anathema was reading. This perhaps suggests that The Book is Agnes’s book of prophesies—the same book that Aziraphale wants to get his hands on. Although Agnes was apparently a legitimate prophet, the woodcut indicates that she was eventually executed for witchcraft. Aside from this dark history, Agnes’s character is a humorous one: she seemingly only went to the work of writing and publishing a book for her free author’s copy. Her actions make her relatable and suggest that she had a sense of humor, since she was clearly going to all that work just to amuse herself. Meanwhile, the fact that Aziraphale doesn’t have the copy of the book implies that he probably does his best to play by humans’ rules—he’s not going to use his powers as an angel to find the book and take it for himself.
Themes
After lunch, Aziraphale and Crowley drink together in the back room of Aziraphale’s Soho bookshop. Crowley drunkenly slurs that all the dolphins and whales will turn into seafood gumbo when the sea boils, and everything on land will die too. Aziraphale points out that Crowley is part of all this, since he tempts people, but Crowley insists that that’s different—that’s “ineffable.” It’s important to test people, but not to the point of destruction. Aziraphale insists that he can’t disobey, but Crowley points out that there are no theaters and few films in Heaven.
Aziraphale seems unwilling to recognize that even though Crowley is a demon, he’s trying to do the right thing by floating the idea that they should save the world from Armageddon. Crowley’s defining characteristic isn’t that he tempts people to sin—his defining characteristic is that he loves Earth and everything it has to offer. And for that matter, he knows that Aziraphale does too, which gives him leverage in convincing Aziraphale that they should try to prevent Armageddon.
Themes
Desperately, and with many drunken interruptions from Aziraphale, Crowley asks if Aziraphale knows what eternity is. He asks him to imagine a tall mountain at the end of the universe. Once every thousand years, a little bird has to fly to the mountain to sharpen its beak and then fly back. By the time the bird has worn the mountain down to nothing, Aziraphale still won’t be done watching The Sound of Music—and he won’t have any choice but to enjoy it. Aziraphale looks pained. Crowley points out that Heaven has no taste and no sushi restaurants. Both men decide to sober up—using their powers, they each make the alcohol leave their bloodstreams instantaneously.
Crowley implies that The Sound of Music is the kind of entertainment that would be available in Heaven. The Sound of Music is widely regarded as a wholesome, family-friendly movie, and Crowley and Aziraphale seem to agree that having to watch it repeatedly would be insufferable. They both feel the need to sober up after this thought exercise, which implies that for all his holier-than-thou behavior, Aziraphale isn’t actually all that interested in living in a perpetual Heaven, either—the idea seems nauseating to him. Again, he and Crowley have more in common than they might think.
Themes
Now sober, Aziraphale says that he can’t interfere with divine plans. Crowley suggests that since his side is responsible for Armageddon, Armageddon is a diabolical plan—and Aziraphale should try to thwart it. Crowley says that it’s the Antichrist’s upbringing and influences that are important. Aziraphale asks what will happen if the child doesn’t have a Satanic upbringing, and Crowley suggests that it won’t matter. When Aziraphale tries to argue that genetics matter, Crowley says that they don’t—Satan, after all, started out as an angel. The child isn’t evil: he’s just potentially evil, or potentially good. With a shrug, Crowley says that they shouldn’t be talking about good and evil like this—they’re just names for sides. Aziraphale and Crowley decide that they’ll be the child’s godfathers and oversee his upbringing.
Crowley insists that Aziraphale would just be doing his job as an angel if he interfered in the Antichrist’s upbringing, since doing so could potentially thwart Armageddon (which is being orchestrated by demons). Importantly, Crowley also reiterates his opinion that good and evil are learned, not innate. As he points out, Satan is a fallen angel—so there’s no telling what the Antichrist, Satan’s son, might turn out to be. Then, when Crowley insists that good and evil are just names for sides, he suggests that this dichotomy isn’t useful: good and evil are just divisive words.
Themes
Meanwhile, a young woman with auburn hair named Scarlett is has been selling arms for the last 400 years. She’s currently driving a truck of weapons to a West African civil war, but the truck has broken down in the capital village of Kumbolaland, a small and peaceful country. When Scarlett can’t find anyone to fix it, decides to take a vacation. Three days later, the city is a no-go area, and by the following week, the country is in disarray. Scarlett decides to become a journalist—she loves that people fight over and around her.
The way this vignette is abruptly inserted into the story gives the impression that it’s happening simultaneously with Aziraphale and Crowley’s conversation. It seems that other forces related to Armageddon are gathering far away from the Antichrist, Crowley, and Aziraphale. At this point, it’s hard to tell exactly what Scarlett’s significance is to the main story—but it’s important to note that she loves conflict. The fighting that rapidly develops around her seems to suggest that violence is a common and perhaps unavoidable aspect of human life—and possibly that Scarlett has something to do with the wars breaking out around her.
Themes
A man named Sable is having drinks with his accountant on the top of 666 Fifth Avenue in New York. They’ve just come from an exclusive restaurant that served a tiny meal of one bean, one pea, and a sliver of chicken. Sable had invented this type of cuisine the last time he was in Paris. A thin woman comes up and asks Sable to autograph her copy of his book, Foodless Dieting: Slim Yourself Beautiful. He writes a verse from Revelation in it and knows that the woman will die in a few months. Sable thinks of the exclusive restaurant and grins—he’s never seen rich people so hungry. He’s killing time until “the main event”—and sometimes he kills people, too.
Again, this vignette isn’t presented with much context, but it’s implied that Sable is somehow connected to Scarlett—and perhaps to Aziraphale, Crowley, and the Antichrist as well. Though this entire passage has an air of malice to it—it’s implied that Sable is brainwashing rich people to starve themselves—it’s also making fun of the real-life fine dining trend of serving tiny portions of food. The number 666 is known as the number of the beast in the Book of Revelation in the Bible, which gives more context as to what’s going on here. Clearly, Sable and Scarlett are connected to Armageddon and the devil in some way, especially given that Sable copies a verse from Revelation into the woman’s book.
Themes
Another man known as White tends to escape people’s notice. Unlike his colleagues, who can hold down jobs for a while, he bounces from job to job and has worked places like the Chernobyl Power Station and at Windscale, never doing anything too important. He helped design the gas engine and plastics; now, he works on an oil tanker. Someone somehow presses the EMERGENCY CARGO RELEASE button, releasing crude oil into the sea. The final person is everywhere, doing what he does best and doing “what he was.” He’s working, not just waiting.
It’s clear that the four people mentioned in these vignettes—Scarlett, Sable, White, and the final person—are somehow connected. The Chernobyl Power Station and Windscale are both nuclear facilities that experienced catastrophic accidents, suggesting that White is somehow connected to these catastrophes. The mysterious final person seems to be on a different level than his colleagues, since the novel suggests that the others are waiting for something, not working like he is. The final person’s omnipresence, and the statement that he’s doing “what he was”—meaning that his actions align with who he is at his core—suggests that this person is even more directly associated with evil and death.
Themes
Meanwhile, Harriet Dowling returns home with her baby, whom she and the Cultural Attaché named Warlock, and the Cultural Attaché advertises for a nanny. Crowley orchestrates a London tube (subway) strike so that on the day of interviews, only one nanny (and her gray dog) shows up. Nanny Ashtoreth aces her interview, and on the same afternoon that Nanny Ashtoreth arrives, a gardener named Mr. Francis also starts work for the Dowlings. He’s able to just sit outside as the garden effortlessly blooms around him. When Warlock is a toddler, he often visits Mr. Francis, who tells Warlock to appreciate all living things. At night, Nanny Ashtoreth sings Warlock Satanic nursery rhymes. This setup, “the Arrangement,” works perfectly—Aziraphale and Crowley meet often to compare notes.
Crowley and Aziraphale are still unaware that the Antichrist was placed with the wrong family—they assume that the Dowlings’ son Warlock is the Antichrist, when really the Youngs’ son Adam is the true son of Satan. “The Arrangement” of placing Nanny Ashtoreth and Mr. Francis with the Antichrist (or who Crowley and Aziraphale believe is the Antichrist) seems to be their way of assuring that Warlock gets a balance of good and evil in his life. Ashtoreth is a Pagan goddess—and Christians traditionally consider pagan worship to be idolatrous or sinful. Thus, having a nanny called Nanny Ashtoreth makes it clear that she’s the one responsible for giving Warlock his Satanic upbringing. Mr. Francis, meanwhile, is a nod to St. Francis of Assisi, the 12th-century founder of the Franciscan Order who was known for his love of all living creatures. It seems that he’s been sent as a counterpart to Ashtoreth, a benevolent presence to balance out her evil one. If Warlock is the true Antichrist (which readers know he isn’t), Crowley and Aziraphale seemingly want him to naturally fall into that role rather than being pressured or brainwashed into it—so they’re ensuring that his childhood role models are a balance of good and evil.
Themes
Nanny Ashtoreth and Mr. Francis leave when Warlock is six. Two tutors take over next: one who teaches Warlock about Atilla the Hun and the Darkness of the Human Spirit, and one who teaches about Florence Nightingale and the golden rule. They both read to Warlock from the Book of Revelation. Despite their best efforts, the tutors are displeased with him: he’s good at math and enjoys baseball, comics, and his BMX bike. Crowley is troubled by all of this, and so at one of his meetings with Aziraphale, he notes that Warlock seems too normal. He’s not the “powerhouse of raw force” that he should be, and it’s not just because of Aziraphale’s influence.
Just as with Nanny Ashtoreth and Mr. Francis, Warlock’s first tutor teaches him about malevolent people and things, while the second introduces him to virtuous historical figures and ideas. And while one might expect Crowley to be thrilled to see how normal Warlock is—clearly, he’s not entirely evil, as Aziraphale feared—he’s instead beginning to suspect that they’ve made a mistake somewhere along the way. The Antichrist is supposed to be a “powerhouse of raw force” who lives up to the role of Satan’s son—a reputation that doesn’t align with Warlock’s personality.
Themes
Aziraphale isn’t concerned, but he raises an eyebrow when Crowley sighs that Warlock will hopefully know how to act when the hell-hound arrives on his 11th birthday. Hell is sending him the biggest one they have, and it’s essential that Warlock names the dog himself. The name will give the dog its purpose, and it should get a name like Killer or Terror. Crowley says that he’s going to be there to watch, and that hopefully Warlock will be afraid of the hell-hound. If Warlock does name the dog something evil-sounding, it’ll usher in Armageddon. Aziraphale says that he’ll be there to watch the naming too.
When Crowley says that the hell-hound should be named something like Killer or Terror, he’s suggesting that naming the hell-hound anything else would be antithetical to its role as the Antichrist’s companion. Naming the hell-hound something evil-sounding will be a sign that the Antichrist is evil himself, and that he is indeed going to carry out Armageddon—the only hope of avoiding this outcome is if Warlock rejects the dog altogether. Crowley doesn’t seem to believe that Warlock has the ability to change what’s supposed to happen, except by rejecting his destiny outright.
Themes
