Spoiler alert

Spoiler alert: Do not read any further if you do not wish to have knowledge that spoilers will ruin your ability to enjoy reading books, going to plays, watching television or spending the evening at the cinema.

This post is a spoiler alert about the existence of spoiler alerts.

You have been warned.

Read further only if you are comfortable with that reality.

Are you sure you want to keep reading?

This is your last chance.

I am trying to spare you great frustration.

You’re sure?

Ok, you may proceed.

See? That’s a spoiler alert. 

I have not always lived in the era of spoilers.

There was a time in the not-so-distant past that if you had not read, heard or seen a piece of entertainment or pop culture, you could go about your life without any possibility of having the ending “spoiled” unless you were in conversation. Back in those ancient times, you could simply say to the person, “Oh, wait, don’t tell me. I haven’t read/heard/seen that yet.”

Those days are long gone. A quick internet search will reveal the first recorded use of the term “spoiler” was in a 1971 issue of “The Harvard Lampoon” in which writer Doug Kenney spoiled the endings of such noted works as “Citizen Kane,” “Psycho” and Agatha Christie mysteries “to save time.”

It came into prevalent usage on early internet user groups as part of the etiquette that developed. The first recorded usage of the term “spoiler alert” was a 1982 post on a “Star Trek” fan board discussing “Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan.”

The concept crossed over into the mainstream with the advent of streaming media. It is increasingly difficult to consume media without learning the ending or important plot points before you encounter them on your own.

Recently, I experienced a spoiler so profound it has changed my view of the world. I now have an enlightened clarity about the information age we are in. Unless you live an intentionally withdrawn and media-free existence, you will have something you are enjoying spoiled.

For years I have been wanting to read John le Carré’s spy novels, specifically the George Smiley series that begins with “Call for the Dead” and ends with “The Secret Pilgrim.” These eight works were published between 1961 and 1990 and deal with Cold War intrigue between England and East Germany and the former Soviet Union. I am currently halfway through the third book, “The Spy Who Came in from the Cold,” published in 1963.

Imagine my surprise while absent-mindedly commuting to work a few weeks ago, listening to my trove of podcasts when an episode of “Fresh Air” begins to play featuring an interview with the novelist Nick Harkaway. As the host was introducing the interview and giving Harkaway’s background, I passively allowed facts to dawn on my consciousness: Nick Harkaway’s real name is Nicholas Cornwell. He is the son of David John Moore Cornwell, the given name of John le Carré.

Of all the coincidences, Harkaway has just published a novel titled “Karla’s Choice,” and it just so happened to involve his father’s characters from the Smiley series and fits right between “The Spy Who Came in from the Cold” and “Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy.”

That’s when the ambient noise of the podcast captured my attention. But before I had sense enough to pause the episode, the host completely spoiled the ending of the novel I was reading to set up the plot of Harkaway’s book. Just as I am becoming invested in characters who are only beginning to reveal plot twist upon plot twist, I learned their fate, flatly and efficiently proclaimed as if I were listening to the traffic report.

I immediately hit pause, and contemplated what had happened. The host had not said “spoiler alert,” which I had naively assumed we were all legally obligated to announce before giving away any plot points of anything these days.

As the anger welled within my heart, I began to realize how ridiculous it was for me to expect anyone to care if a 1963 novel was spoiled, the assumption being that enough time had passed that if you didn’t know already know the ending of “The Spy Who Came in from the Cold,” you didn’t care because you were never ever going to read it.

I was probably the one person on the planet who was currently reading that book who was also listening to that podcast with that interview at that moment. The odds were astronomical.

It reminded me of the story my friend Brian likes to tell about J.K. Rowling’s best selling “Harry Potter” books. When “Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince” hit bookstores in England in July of 2005, the lines at bookshops extended out the door and wrapped around the block. At one such location, a very evil man at the front of the line purchased his book, flipped to the back, found a crucial plot point and yelled it out to the crowd in line spoiling the ending.

I have been known to avoid social media or even Google if I am watching a popular television series that airs its finale, and I don’t get to watch it live. And with so much content just laying around on streaming services, you can literally go back and watch any movie or TV show from history at any time. 

If you are such a person who is watching old stuff for the first time (and old stuff these days could be anything no longer playing in theaters) you are in danger of having your experience spoiled. To avoid going about in a state of agitation over having every escape from reality spoiled for us, we have to become comfortable with knowing everything. Or at least the possibility of knowing anything at any given moment.

I will finish “The Spy Who Came in from the Cold.” Even though I tried to “un-know” what I heard, as I read every page I know the characters’ fates. Instead of enjoying the satisfaction of the surprise, I am reading to see how it unfolds.

In this age of spoilers, the runner’s adage “It’s the journey not the destination” seems to be the best way to cope.

Give up any silly notion of a spoiler-free life, and you will be happier. And by all means, please say “spoiler alert” and pause if you are about to ruin the ending of something for your friends.