There ain’t no telling
Spoiler alert: there are no spoilers here, because I care.
I would never wield plot details and character reveals like weapons, or cackle in the face of the recently spoiled. Because I am the formerly spoiled, I am familiar with the grieving process: denial, anger, bargaining, depression — but never acceptance.
For years, I prided myself in keeping up with just about every television show. The second it aired, I would watch, commercial breaks and all.
But as TV has gotten better, and more programs become “must-see,” it’s become increasingly difficult to keep up, which means, inevitably, I fall behind and I’m faced with the choice to either spend an entire night binge-watching the new season of House of Cards or face the spoilers Monday morning.
I live in perpetual fear of fans with more time on their hands ruining things for me; the type of sadistic monsters who harbour a sick desire to expose major twists in casual conversation on the subway or in a totally unrelated Facebook thread.
As a show that everyone and their mother watches, Game of Thrones may be the most common source of misanthropic spoilage. When I took a break from the show between the fourth and fifth seasons, I found myself pummelled with spoiler after spoiler.
I soon found myself derided for not catching up sooner: “What is wrong with you?” they would chidingly ask. I have things to do, I have other things to see and I need a nap!
Finding others who are also a dangerous season or two behind is like joining a support group. Our pain and anger for the heartless runs deep, but our regret and guilt for not catching up sooner is even deeper. Because, yes, it’s personal — when you know what’s about to happen for a story that you’ve long been captivated by, that world suddenly becomes a little less involved, a little less real the second you find out what lies ahead.
In a recent study by VU University Amsterdam in the Netherlands, scientists found that stories that had been spoiled were rated as “less moving, less thought-provoking and less successful at drawing the reader into a narrative world and providing an immersive experience,” with “consistently negative” effects as a result of the spoilers.
But what we truly need is a study into those effects: what is the remedy for a spurned fan, spoiled without their consent? How does one recover, and where does one find solace? How do we, the innocent, forgive and forget?