Spoiler Alert

I’m spoiler-proof. I can reread books and rewatch movies and still get caught up in the drama all over again. This is a good thing as I am also incurably nosey. I google movie endings, peek at my presents and occasionally flick ahead in books. To me, this is no big deal but to many people – including my partner – these are acts as deviant as those partaken in by the average NRL player and their dog.

I am aware that some people hate spoilers with the level of passion that Andrew Bolt reserves for the Greens. When Order of the Phoenix book was released in the Harry Potter series, many of my friends filled the internet with pleading not to be told which characted suffered a much pre-publicised death. (Thanks for telling everyone about that in advance, J.K. Way to ruin my internet for a month.) I’m not sure how we were meant to accomplish this. Some sort of collar pin to identify people who had actually finished the book, or perhaps nifty tattoos reading, “Damn you, foul drapery”? Still, we did our best not. Some of the same spoiler-hating friends avoided the internet for weeks in advance of the final book being released to avoid being spoiled.

I didn't think they could come up with a cover that embraced the sheer tacky joy of the Eurovision. They proved me wrong.Hell, some of them  avoided the news and the internet to avoid being spoiled on the result of the Eurovision. (When is Australia finally going to get a team in there, by the way? With Azerbaijan and Israel getting their song on in recent years, surely it’s only a matter of time before the EBU expands far enough to let us in.)

I do try to respect my spoiler-hating friends’ wishes and not accidently yell out pivotal plot points three seconds before they happen, or to peer into a future they would rather keep under wraps. But this Christmas is testing that resolve. My present is wrapped and waiting in the living room and I am currently engaged in a mighty struggle with my conscience not to peek at it.

This is not my choice – I would have happily seen it as soon as it was bought and still enjoyed the unwrapping on the day. Not so for my partner, who insists the surprise is part of the fun. Desperate to wrap my gift without me seeing it, last night he locked me out of the bedroom and set to rendering it unspoilable, accompanied by rustling noises, the schwip of Sellotape and no small amount of banging.

Now, for someone as nosey as me, this is a form of torture even if he was clearly doing it for my benefit.  Obviously the only mature response was to grab the last bottle of ginger beer from the fridge and swig it at the door, all the while shouting, “Mmm, yummy cold ginger beer. NONE FOR YOU THIS CHRISTMAS.” in at him.

Let no one say I don’t get into the Christmas spirit

But my partner dislikes spoilers – he wants to get to the ending and find out what happens then, or unwrap the gift and be surprised. My habit of present-peeping is as deranged to him as flicking ahead while reading a book.

Which I also do.

To his books.

When he hasn’t finished them yet.

…maybe he has a point on that one.

So, I’m sitting here trying to ignore the present in the corner. To peep or not to peep? To spoil or leave until the day? What would you do?

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Sadhbh Warren

Sadhbh Warren is a freelance writer and proud booklover. Her name is pronounced Sive - like five – an Irish name, easier to say than spell! She lives in Sydney, writing travel and humour articles, and is always on the lookout for a great new book.

3 thoughts on “Spoiler Alert”

  1. I am dreadful. I love surprises, love the anticipation, but I also love to peak. 🙂 At presents only. Can’t stand knowing the end of a new movie, or book (this does not mean I do not curl up with old friends fairly often… Much loved books in our house).

    I always find I am disappointed when it comes to the day and the gift is no longer a surprise. Even worse though, is being married to a man who insists on dropping hints as to what he has bought, building it up, and up, and up. Then the day comes, and the gift is … well, not quite what you were expecting. Or something you actually don’t like 🙂 that has happened more than once 😀

  2. I know, the feeling when you open the present and go, “Ah. Right. Eep. Smile and look happy!”

    This is why I tell everyone to gift me books, chocolate or ponies as it is very unlikely that any of these things won’t please. Mmm. Chocolate.

  3. I am supremely good at ignoring my own gifts-in-waiting, but terribly impatient about waiting for the ones I’m giving to be opened by their recipients! I love getting presents on Christmas, make no mistake, but I don’t feel the same (….SAY IT!) anticipation for them that I do for the ones I’m giving. I don’t shake, I don’t poke, I don’t listen, I don’t wonder – I just enjoy the way they look under the tree, and patiently wait for Christmas day to discover the contents. Mind you, I suspect this is partly discipline, partly disinterest (I’m much more of an excited giver than an excited receiver) and partly Schroedinger’s Present; if I don’t know what’s in it, then it could be anything, and no content could possibly be as delightful as the *possibility*, unconfined to form, that precedes discovery.

    P.

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