BOOK CLUB KIT
DEAR READER, Cherish Farrah isn’t the type of book I can really talk about until after you’ve read it. I can’t tell you the kernel of story I knew when I started conceptualizing it, because you won’t find out about it until the final pages. I can tell you that my agent said she’d love to see me do something in the vein of Get Out. I can tell you that I immediately texted her back and said no. Because I am the queen of knee-jerk refusals, at least where my work is concerned. No artist wants to create something derivative, after all. For context, I’d just written a Black retelling of Little Women. With that story, too, I wasn’t interested in simply writing something to honor the canonized original, instead mixing my own story, full of excavated history, with beloved (if few) aspects of a property that had long been upheld to the exclusion of truer fiction. For me, there was purpose and power in that, and it made all the difference. The concept that sprang to mind immediately after sending that refusal text to my agent changed my decision in an instant. It was something I’d been fascinated by in childhood and was simultaneously a story in itself, and a vehicle for commentary remarkably in the vein of Get Out. Instead of recoiling from the suggestion, I decided to do something I felt was being routinely attempted but not to much success. I wanted to actually identify both the film’s nuanced message—beyond the oversimplified mischaracterization of “racist horror”—and its employed vehicle, and endeavor to move it and the conversation forward. That’s where Farrah comes in. And her, I can tell you about. If you’re familiar with Get Out, you know that the main character is a man named Chris. You might also remember that aside from his mother’s death, and his smoking habit, his photography constitutes the extent of his characterization. What’s brilliant is the way this almost blank-slate approach works on film. After all, Chris is an adult Black man. Not exactly the identity that comes to mind when you think of vulnerability— unless you’ve been paying attention. Because Chris is somewhat devoid of personality, the audience never has to consider his motives. We’re never given a chance to apply our existing racist, anti-Black biases to him, or in favor of the liberal white family whose home feels vaguely unsafe from the beginning. All of this works beautifully, whether the audience is aware of how they’ve been handled or not. I’ve spoken many times about my refusal to maintain a 101-level discourse, so it should come as no surprise that Farrah Turner is no such blank-slate. Farrah is a troubled girl, and you’ll know that immediately. Because she’s the one guiding us through the Whitman home, it’s impossible not to recognize her psychopathy and come to some conclusion as to what it all means—whether she can be trusted with her own characterization, let alone anyone else’s. And whether our conclusions reflect more about ourselves than the girl on the page. As for the Whitmans—the white American adoptive family of Farrah’s best friend, Cherish—they open themselves completely to both girls. But in a post-Obama world, where voting for a Black president (even twice) didn’t stop a whole host of people from subsequently voting for Donald Trump, there are only more examples of how complex our social identities and tethers truly are. I’m pleased to invite you into the Whitman home. Make yourself comfortable. Join the girls for a swim. And never let down your guard. Thank you for reading and participating,
BETHANY C. MORROW
DISCUSSION QUESTIONS
1.
From the first chapter, we learn from Farrah’s perspective that she felt “angsty. Defensive. Like an ordinary teenage girl, when all I’m ever doing is pretending to be one.” What did you think she meant by that at the time? Did your understanding of her assertion that she was only pretending to be “an ordinary teenage girl” change over the course of the book? How so?
2.
When she introduces us to Cherish and the Whitmans, Farrah says, “Color blindness requires the kind of delusional naïveté that I have only ever believed in Cherish.” How is it believable in Cherish? Discuss the fallacy of color blindness, both how it’s portrayed in the novel and how it appears in real life.
3.
While musing on Cherish, Farrah narrates that, “I only studied her because I had to know whether there was someone else who could construct a mask that convincing.” What is Farrah referring to when she mentions a “mask”? How does it relate to the larger themes of the book?
4.
Farrah knows that her mother, Nichole, sees beneath the facade she puts up in a way other people do not. She believes that her mother thinks just like her because of it. Do you think Nichole is similar to Farrah? Why or why not?
5.
Cherish claims that “Being a spoiled white girl when you’re Black is literally my favorite thing ever.” What does being “white girl spoiled” mean to Cherish? How does it differ from the way Farrah relates to the idea?
6. The book is told from Farrah’s perspective, which means we only see Cherish through Farrah’s lens. Taking a step back, how do you think Cherish feels about Farrah, based on how she acts toward her? Are there times where you think her feelings toward Farrah shift throughout the story?
7.
Throughout the novel, Farrah is desperate to hold on to control, even as the life she knew is being pulled out from under her. How much of this attachment to her old life (her childhood home, possibly her school, etc.) are expected reactions for anyone losing these things and how much feels out of the ordinary?
8.
Farrah says that when she was younger, she was able to see things that other people weren’t able to, such as Mrs. Whitman’s “golden halo.” What do you make of Farrah’s ability to visualize certain sounds and see things that other people aren’t able to?
9.
According to Farrah, she and Cherish “cared too much about proving ourselves to each other in the secret way we somehow devised without ever putting it into words.” What are they proving to the other person? How does this play out in the novel?
10.
Cherish Farrah is one of the books that is helping to establish the genre of social horror novels, along with other media like Get Out, Us, and Watchmen. How would you characterize the social horror genre after reading the book? Visit youtu.be/XXeaKsD4Tik to hear more about the genre from the author herself.
HEAR MORE ABOUT Farrah’s Family’s Predicament
FROM THE AUTHOR
The Mothers in Cherish Farrah
Farrah’s Mask
Writing Farrah’s Character
Cherish as an “Audience Insert” Character
The Social Horror Genre