When I first dipped into The Expanse TV series, the Belters' world felt almost suffocating—grim, bleak, and heavy. The show's early episodes were drenched in tension: walls closing in, air in short supply, and everyone struggling just to survive. It felt too dark, and I couldn't find a way in emotionally. So, I walked away.
Months later, I picked up the first book, Leviathan Wakes, not expecting much. And then—bam—the prologue hit me like a meteor. There it was: Julie Mao alone, trapped, dying… and infected by some alien substance that defied reason. That eerie, horrifying introduction to the protomolecule hooked me instantly. If the TV show was bleak, the books were downright haunting. But where the show left me cold, the books demanded my attention. Their story felt epic and urgent, and the mystery of the protomolecule called for endless nights of reading.
Over the next few months, I devoured eight books, one after the other, carried along by the political intrigue, alien wonders, and messy, beautiful characters. I spent years waiting eagerly for the ninth and final book, Leviathan Falls. Would it wrap things up? Would humanity survive what it had become? I couldn't wait to find out.
But not everything in my reading journey was smooth sailing—because I hate spoilers. And wouldn't you know it, right after I started the first book and casually mentioned to someone that I liked Miller's storyline, they said: "Don't get to like him too much." You can imagine my rage. I stewed over that for years before I could even think about forgiving them. Spoilers are like tiny, well-aimed torpedoes—they ruin the joy of discovery, and that one hit me hard.
What the TV Series Missed by Merging the Books
When adapting a nine-book series into six seasons, the most significant challenge is what to leave out. The show does a good job condensing the first six books, but there are inevitable losses—especially when it comes to character depth and the cosmic scope of the final three novels.
The Missing Laconian Empire
The absence of the Laconian Empire arc is one of the biggest losses in the TV adaptation. This storyline, which begins in Persepolis Rising (Book 7) and extends to the series finale in Leviathan Falls, introduces a breakaway faction led by Winston Duarte, a former Martian admiral who uses protomolecule technology to build a totalitarian regime. The story explores the rise of an empire that believes it can perfect humanity—at any cost. By ending after Babylon's Ashes (Book 6), the show never fully delves into Laconia's philosophical dilemma: Is stability worth the sacrifice of freedom? Duarte's ambition forces the Rocinante crew to confront some of the hardest questions in the series—questions about power, control, and what it really means to be human. This shift toward a more authoritarian narrative gives the final books a weight and complexity that the TV show, by necessity, couldn't match.
The Deeper Alien Mystery
While the TV series does an excellent job with the protomolecule, it only scratches the surface of the larger alien mystery. In the books, it becomes clear that the creators of the protomolecule were destroyed by a greater alien force—something ancient, unknowable, and terrifying. The final books explore the consequences of humanity's meddling with powers beyond their understanding. This cosmic horror element adds an existential layer to the books. The struggle between humans—whether it's Earth, Mars, the Belt, or Laconia—starts to feel small in comparison to the vast, uncaring universe they're a part of. The show never fully captures this theme, choosing instead to focus more on the political intrigue of the solar system. While that keeps the narrative tight and accessible, it leaves out the sense of awe and terror that defines the later novels.
Condensed Character Arcs
One of the challenges of adaptation is condensing character arcs without losing what makes them meaningful. The TV series does a commendable job with most characters, but there are places where the relationships feel rushed or incomplete.
Naomi and Filip
Naomi and Filip's relationship is a prime example. In the books, Naomi's reunion with her son is a slow, painful process. Filip struggles to reconcile his mother's love with the toxic influence of his father, Marco Inaros. The show touches on this dynamic but resolves it much more quickly, missing some of the emotional depth that made it so compelling in the books.
Bobbie Draper
Similarly, Bobbie Draper's arc undergoes significant compression in the TV adaptation. In the books, Bobbie's journey from loyal Martian marine to key member of the Rocinante crew is a gradual and nuanced evolution. Her initial appearance as a steadfast soldier gives way to a complex character grappling with shifting allegiances and moral ambiguities. The novels explore her disillusionment with Mars in depth, showing how her unwavering loyalty transforms into a more nuanced understanding of interplanetary politics. Bobbie's integration into the Rocinante crew in the later books is a slow burn, allowing readers to witness her growing bonds with each crew member, particularly her friendship with Alex and her respect for Holden.
The TV series, while capturing Bobbie's strength and determination admirably through Frankie Adams' performance, accelerates her character development. Her transition from Martian loyalist to independent operator happens more rapidly, and her time with the Rocinante crew is condensed. While this allows the show to involve Bobbie in key plot points earlier, it sacrifices some of the subtle character development seen in the books. The show does an excellent job of portraying Bobbie's combat prowess and her fish-out-of-water moments in political settings, but it doesn't have the time to fully explore the depths of her internal conflicts and the gradual build of her relationships with the crew. Despite these limitations, TV Bobbie remains a fan-favorite character, testament to both Adams' performance and the core strength of the character as conceived in the books.
James Holden: The Reluctant Hero
James Holden's character arc differs significantly between the books and the TV series, offering two compelling interpretations of this central figure. In the novels, Holden is portrayed as a deeply conflicted and reluctant hero. His journey is marked by constant internal struggles with moral dilemmas, the burden of leadership, and the complexities of his relationships. For instance, his choice to broadcast the truth about the protomolecule in Leviathan Wakes sets off a chain reaction of events that he spends subsequent books trying to mitigate. The books delve into his self-doubt and the toll that being the de facto captain of the Rocinante takes on him. His romance with Naomi is explored in greater depth, revealing layers of vulnerability and growth for both characters.
The TV series, on the other hand, presents a more action-oriented Holden. While still principled, TV Holden comes across as more comfortable in the role of captain, making quick decisions in high-pressure situations. The show doesn't always have time to explore the nuanced ethical quandaries that book Holden faces, sometimes streamlining his decision-making process. The series hones in on Holden's role as the linchpin of the story, sometimes at the expense of his more introspective moments. Both versions of Holden are compelling, but the books offer a deeper dive into the psychological toll of heroism, while the show presents a more traditional sci-fi protagonist.
Joe Miller: The Detective's Ghostly Evolution
Let’s get to the character I shouldn’t have liked too much - but I did! Joe Miller's transformation from hard-boiled detective to metaphysical entity is handled differently in the books and TV series, each offering unique insights into this complex character. In the books, we get a deeper backstory that provides a richer tapestry of Miller's past, explaining his disillusionment and what drives his obsession with the Julie Mao case. The novels more thoroughly examine Miller's descent into obsession and his struggle with alcoholism, providing context for his actions. As Miller transitions into the protomolecule construct, the books delve deeply into the philosophical implications of his new existence, exploring questions of consciousness and identity.
The TV series adaptation brings Miller's world-weary demeanor to life through Thomas Jane's portrayal, effectively conveying his cynicism and later, his otherworldly nature. The show condenses Miller's story, focusing on key moments that drive the plot forward. As the protomolecule construct, TV Miller becomes a powerful visual metaphor for the alien influence, serving as a bridge between human understanding and incomprehensible cosmic forces. Both mediums handle Miller's arc effectively, but the books offer a more introspective journey, while the show leverages visual storytelling to convey his transformation.
What the TV Series Gave Us in Return
Despite these losses, the TV series offers something unique. Seeing the world of The Expanse brought to life—with stunning visuals, powerful performances, and meticulous sound design—adds a visceral dimension that the books could only hint at.
Amos Burton: The Scene-Stealer
The standout performance for me was Wes Chatham as Amos Burton. In the books, Amos is a complex character—brutal, pragmatic, but fiercely loyal to those he cares about. The TV series captures this perfectly, and Chatham's portrayal elevates Amos into a fan favorite. His calm, deadpan delivery in the most dangerous situations adds humor and depth to the show, making him even more compelling than his literary counterpart. Amos is a character who operates by his own moral code, and the TV series nails this. Whether he's standing by Naomi's side or delivering justice in the most direct way possible, Amos embodies a type of humanity stripped of pretense. The books give us his backstory in more detail, but the show makes Amos come alive in a way that words on a page never could.
Chrisjen Avasarala: The Queen of Diplomacy
Another gift the TV series gave us is Shohreh Aghdashloo's portrayal of Chrisjen Avasarala. In the books, Avasarala is introduced later in the series, but the show brings her in earlier—and thank the stars for that. Aghdashloo's performance is nothing short of iconic. Her Avasarala is sharp-tongued, brilliant, and ruthless—a politician who navigates the murky waters of interplanetary politics with grace and venom. Watching Avasarala verbally eviscerate her opponents while wearing gorgeous saris is one of the purest joys the show offers. While the books give us more of her internal thoughts and motivations, the show's version of Avasarala is unforgettable, delivering some of the series' most memorable moments.
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A Different Ending, but Still Satisfying
By ending after Babylon's Ashes, the TV series chose a more grounded conclusion. The Free Navy arc wraps up with the solar system at a crossroads—Mars, Earth, and the Belt forced to find a way to coexist. It's a hopeful but realistic ending, with enough ambiguity to suggest that peace may be fleeting. While it doesn't dive into the cosmic mysteries of the final books, the show's ending feels right for the medium. TV audiences need closure, and a more open-ended finish might have felt frustrating. The books have the luxury of asking bigger, more abstract questions, but the show focuses on the characters and political conflicts that drive the story forward.
A Journey Worth Taking—Books or TV, or Both
In the end, both the books and the TV series gave me something I'll carry with me. The books offered a slow, thoughtful exploration of humanity's place in the universe, while the show brought the characters I love to life in ways I never imagined. If you're someone who loves rich, intricate storytelling, start with the books. They'll give you the time and space to fall in love with this universe. But if you prefer visual storytelling with unforgettable performances, the TV show is an excellent adaptation that captures the heart of the series.
Just remember—don't expect a typical hero in Holden, don't expect a lighthearted ride, and, for the love of everything, avoid spoilers. Trust me on that. And no matter how dark the journey gets, there will always be Amos Burton—the kind of person who makes sure you survive, whether you deserve to or not.