You’ve read the books?” I’ve seen the movies.” Cath rolled her eyes so hard, it hurt. (Actually.) (Maybe because she was still on the edge of tears. On the edge, period.) So you haven’t read the books.” I’m not really a book person.” That might be the most idiotic thing you’ve ever said to me

In this exchange, Cath’s exasperation isn’t only about “books versus movies” as formats; it signals a deeper anxiety about seriousness, intimacy, and being understood. The line “I’m not really a book person” lands as a rejection of the kind of inner life Cath values—slow attention, imagination, and emotional investment—especially when she’s already “on the edge of tears.” Her sharp retort (“the most idiotic thing…”) reads as defensive gatekeeping: she equates reading with empathy and depth, and interprets the other person’s stance as incuriosity or emotional laziness. The moment also captures how pop-culture touchstones become shorthand for compatibility, and how easily taste can become a proxy for respect.