About Spoilers

 This post does not contain spoilers.

A few days before the release of BioShock Infinite, I read an article on a gaming site. I don't remember what the article was about, except that it was definitely not about BioShock Infinite. After reading the article, I scrolled down to scan the comments -- something not recommended on most sites, but hey, I'm a masochist.


And there it was. On the very first comment, blatant, unashamed and unsignposted: "Elizabeth is...[redacted] and Booker is...[redacted]". And it was like a punch to the stomach.  This was as spoilerific as a spoiler gets. Except I didn't know if this was an actual spoiler -- the game hadn't been released.  The other commenters echoed my thoughts exactly by replying to the poster with the sincerest, ugliest and most well-deserved abuse. I still don't know if it was a spoiler, a theory, or a fake posted by a heinous troll. It's agony.  I'll have to wait to complete the game to see which of these is true. I really, really hope that it's one of the latter.


I've been told a few times that spoilers don't spoil. That  the execution of a story is more important than the facts of that story. I love rereading/watching/playing my favourite stories to see how they've changed with foreknowledge (or how I've changed), but this claim is just not true. Not for me, anyway. Last year, I watched some really classic movies that I'd somehow managed to avoid seeing. Some of them were movies whose plot twists had so infiltrated public consciousness that mentioning them, even in polite company, would no longer be considered to be spoiling. Those movies were the Star Wars trilogy (the first one -- don't laugh) and Citizen Kane. As much as I tried to appreciate and perceive these stories as a first-time viewer would, I just couldn't. I wasn't really a first-time viewer. Sure, I could see the details and the buildup to the reveal, but that just isn't the same as being shocked and surprised in that fantastic way that fiction can shock and surprise you, or slowly reveal things to you in that way that makes you feel so very smart and perceptive (even if every other viewer/reader/player does too).


Part of the problem, if it even is one, is that this kind of information is just everywhere. Sites have weekly spoiler columns and previews, where people intentionally go to get more information on their particular pop-culture interests. I've been guilty of this data gathering myself, but I've recently begun to resist looking. Firstly, information gained from an online column is either sterile or biased, and is not the same as information gained within the context of a story and its own particular atmosphere. Secondly, this out-of-context information is bound to lead to misconceptions -- if you're gathering this information to decide on whether to buy a product, you may be deceived into thinking you're buying or rejecting one thing when it is actually another. A recent example of this is the furore over the rebooted Tomb Raider. People vowed not to buy the game based on a trailer that purported to represent the tone of the game. Anyone who has played the game since could argue that accusations of 'torture porn' need to be reconsidered, if not dismissed,  when the full context is provided.


Another part of the problem is that, as the saying goes, knowledge is power. Knowing what happens in a particular story, whether it be the Harry Potter novel bought at midnight and read immediately, the pre-ordered or leaked, if buggy, game, or the episode of Game of Thrones downloaded just minutes after US broadcast makes some people feel better than you. Malicious spoiling is just the demonstration of that power.


So, um, yeah. Don't spoil things. It's mean. But it's probably my fault that I waited this long to watch Star Wars.