HBO's "Succession", Sophocles's "Oedipus Rex," "Alfred Hitchcock Presents," and Aaron Burr's Treason Charge

Some Notes on the Nature and Purpose of Suspense

let’s chat

1. In an interesting recent Times article on “spoilers” in episodic TV, the psychologist Anna-Lisa Cohen suggests that people should calm down about them. An idea has gotten around that online discussion of TV episodes should wait until everybody has had a reasonable chance to see the show; otherwise, a lot of people’s enjoyment will be spoiled by references to plot developments. Cohen's saying enjoyment isn't really affected that way.

2. I don’t know, but I suspect these concerns are mainly raised about a certain kind of “prestige” TV, like “Succession,” which Cohen mentions. Are viewers of “The Bachelor”—which is to say most TV viewers—concerned about online spoilers? Maybe. In any event, Cohen cites studies showing that, contrary to most people’s assumptions, knowing what’s going to happen actually doesn’t diminish viewers’ experience of a dramatic plot’s intensity.

3. Generally I’ve agreed with that idea for a long time. In good drama and narrative, creating suspense over the simple question “what’s going to happen next?!” serves as a device for compelling attention; it’s not the ultimate purpose.

4. “Reader, I married him.” That probably did have an impact, the first time around, especially if Jane Eyre was published in parts. But wondering if she would marry him in the end was never what made that story move. Many readers with novel in hand will skip ahead anyway, learning outcomes long before arriving at the big moments the old-fashioned way. They still read the book. Maybe skipping makes paying attention to the book easier.

5. As an early reader, I skipped all the time. It was nearly a compulsion; at some point I managed to control it, and I don’t skip any more, partly because I know that a novelist’s intent involves creating at least some degree of suspense for first-time readers. I want to feel how that suspense works—or doesn’t. Still, I think the big idea holds true for any really satisfying narrative or drama. Knowing what’s coming next isn’t really an obstacle to appreciating a story. And that includes certain TV shows.

6. And yet I should also admit that I got pretty pissed off recently when the back copy of a Penguin paper edition of Anthony Trollope’s Phineas Redux referred directly to a major plot point that doesn’t occur until maybe two-thirds of the way through the book. I guess everybody’s supposed to have already read Phineas Redux? but I hadn’t, so I was offended by the reveal. These days, editors’ introductory essays for classic-novel reissues often note, right up front—just like online recaps of TV episodes—that plot points will be revealed and first-time readers may want to read the book before the introduction. That’s probably an effect of the “no spoilers!” obsession. And it seems fair enough.

7. I’ve actually gone pretty far to avoid spoilers. For the final series of “Better Call Saul,” I was going to be out of town and wouldn’t be able to watch the batch until I got home, well after it aired. On my Twitter, I therefore muted the words “Saul,” “Better Call Saul,” “Jimmy” “Kim,” etc. I guess I wanted to experience the climax’s design as it unfolded (not perfectly satisfyingly to me, in the event—but man, did they ever have a lot of challenges to address!).