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Crowley and Aziraphale and Queer-Baiting

Consensus around the new Amazon Prime Good Omens series is that it’s a rather static adaptation of its source material, and that David Tennant and Michael Sheen absolutely sparkle in the lead roles. I think this is correct! I’m not going to get into my broader thoughts on the show, which have been covered adequately by reviewers elsewhere, but I do want to talk a leetle bit about queerbaiting and the central relationship between Crowley and Aziraphale. Here’s what the lead actors and the writer have to say about that relationship:

Michael Sheen:

They’re both very bonded and connected anyway, because of the two of them having this relationship through history – but also because angels are beings of love, so it’s inevitable that he would love Crowley. It helped that loving David is very easy to do.

David Tennant:

From being the Doctor, I’m sure you’ve had your fair share of various theories being thrown at you. Like, for instance, this romantic theory about Crowley and Aziraphale.

Well, it is a love story, I think. I think every buddy movie, which is what this essentially is, is a love story, subtextually.

Some are more overtly homoerotic than others.

It’s not explicitly stated, certainly. I don’t know if the supernatural beings are sexual in any way, so it’s probably best not judging them on the same criteria where we judge ourselves.

Neil Gaiman:

The TV series gets deeper into Crowley and Aziraphale’s relationship. It’ll be canonical for the TV series, and not canonical for the book.

If I were to Pronounce on things that are not explicitly stated in the book, I still wouldn’t be telling you if Crowley was Canonically Gay. I would be telling you what I think, because it’s not canon unless it’s in the book. It won’t be TV canon unless it’s on the screen.

So, do not worry what other people think, and do not worry about what they say. These are not things on which people can be right or wrong, or on which anything can be “settled”.

Make fun fanfiction. Enjoy yourself. Make things up. Share them. That’s the point.

In the wake of Good Omens‘s release, I’ve seen two reactions to the relationship between Crowley and Aziraphale. One is “holy shit I can’t believe how obviously these dudes are in a relationship,” of which an excellent example is this Emily Asher-Perrin piece. Very much fanfiction is now being written in support of the view that Aziraphale and Crowley are in love and, also, banging. The other reaction I’ve seen is “holy shit I can’t believe how obviously these dudes are in, specifically, a longterm nonsexual romantic relationship.” I can’t link you to a piece about that in a major outlet because the media lags way behind lived experiences when it comes to (any kind of queerness, but especially) asexuality and aromanticism.

The latter camp points out that the (fandom) assumption that people can’t be each other’s life partner without sex contributes to asexual erasure. This is incredibly true. The former camp points out that the (broader society) assumption that two members of the same gender are always only platonic pals and why are you even talking about sex and romance anyway contributes to gay erasure. This is also incredibly true. Neil Gaiman, attempting to stay out of it, said this on his blog:

Good Omens: a gentle reminder

Your headcanon is your headcanon. The characters in your mind are what they are, and nobody is trying to take them away from you.

This made me pinch the bridge of my nose for two hours, and when I got finished with that, I came over here to write this post.

It’s not wrong, and can be super interesting, for a text to leave room for multiple interpretations. I never shut up about the finale of Black Sails, which leaves it open to question whether a major character lives or dies. (The character lives; fight me.) The uncertainty is the point. Jack Rackham says in the finale:

A story is true. A story is untrue. As time extends, it matters less and less. The stories we want to believe those are the ones that survive, despite upheaval and transition and progress. Those are the stories that shape history. And then what does it matter if it was true when it was born?

That’s a point worth making, and one that Black Sails (I’m sorry to have once again gotten on a Black Sails tangent but I promise it’s relevant) has been making all along,from the very first season. To have the showrunners explicitly adjudicate the question of whether this character “really” lived or “really” died would undermine the kind of story their show was telling.

So on one hand, I agree that it’s exhausting for creators to constantly have to make pronouncements about What They Meant, and at some point we should be death-of-the-author about it and get on with our own interpretations. On the other hand, it’s much more exhausting to witness creators perpetually burying queerness in subtext and then acting surprised when people inquire what, exactly, the subtext was meant to convey. It’s not as simple as it won’t be TV canon unless it’s on the screen when you have Michael Sheen out doing press saying that he was playing it as Aziraphale being in love with Crowley.

Good Omens opens itself up to a multiple queer readings while also leaving it possible to interpret it as not being queer at all — and that’s a problem, in a world where queer stories are (still!) erased and covered up and denied as often and as energetically as possible. I’d love for the show to tell us they’re in love and banging. Or that they’re in love and not banging. Or that they’re queerplatonic life partners. I would be thrilled to see any of those types of queer relationships enshrined in canon.

The relationship between Crowley and Aziraphale is structured as a love story, with an entire episode near-totally dedicated to how they became each other’s more important person. It’s maddening for creators to edge up to the line of queerness, dip one toe in the water, and then run away giggling. It’s maddening for Neil Gaiman to act like it’s childish or ridiculous for queer viewers to crave representation and to seek it in subtext when creators repeatedly fail to make such representation overt. There’s no storytelling goal that’s served by being coy about what Crowley and Aziraphale are to each other. That’s a choice that serves the status quo of keeping queerness hidden.