Cassandra at the Wedding by Dorothy Baker

First published in 1962, Dorothy Baker’s Cassandra at the Wedding will certainly make my end-of-year highlights, and quite possibly my all-time highlights too — it really is that good.

As the novel opens, Cassandra Edwards, a graduate student at Berkeley, is preparing to drive home to her family’s ranch for the wedding of her identical twin sister, Judith. From the opening pages, Cassandra seems in two minds as to whether to take the trip, and when she looks at the Golden Gate Bridge, we begin to sense that something is desperately wrong:

Besides, my guide assures me that I am not, at heart, a jumper; it’s not my sort of thing. I’m given to conjecture only, and to restlessness, and I think I knew all the time I was sizing up the bridge that the strong possibility was I’d go home, attend my sister’s wedding as invited… (pg 4, NYRB Classics)

Cassandra narrates the first section of the novel, and as she travels home to Bakersfield we learn more about her relationship with Judith. At some point in the not too distant past, the twins had shared an apartment in Berkeley, seemingly content to live their lives for each other with little need for outsiders. But Judith subsequently departed for New York, leaving Cassandra cut adrift and in a state of procrastination over her thesis on French novels. (Moreover, for several years, Cassandra has also been living in the shadow of her deceased mother, Jane, a famous writer and influential figure in the twins’ lives.)

Identity is a key theme in this novel. For example, when the twins were growing up, their parents — Jane in particular — refused to allow the girls to dress alike, favouring individualism over any mirroring between the two. As Cassandra tells her grandmother at a later stage in the book, “they were concerned to have us become individuals, each of us in our own right, and not be confused in ourselves, nor confusing to other people.” (pg. 65)

Despite her parents’ best efforts, there are hints that Cassandra is losing a sense of her own identity. During her journey home for the wedding, Cassandra stops at a bar where she catches herself in the mirror; nevertheless, it is not her own face that she sees in that image, but Judith’s, gazing thoughtfully from behind the bar…

By a firm act of will I forced the face between the shelves to stop becoming Judith’s and become mine. My very own face – the face of a nice girl preparing to be a teacher, writing a thesis, being kind to her grandmother, going home a day early instead of a day late or the day I said, and bringing something decent to wear. But it can give me a turn, that face, any time I happen to catch it in a mirror; most particularly at times like this when I’m alone and have to admit it’s really mine because there’s no one else to accuse. (pg. 8)

Baker continues to develop this theme of identity with great skill as the novel progresses. When Cassandra arrives home, she is greeted by her amiable, brandy-soaked father, her slightly befuddled but well-meaning grandmother, Rowena, and her sister Judith, of course. In this scene, Cassandra asks her father what he thinks of Judith’s fiancé, Jack Finch. Naturally Judith is not present when the following conversation takes place, an exchange that ends with Cassandra questioning her sense of identity :

“Rowena,” my father said to my grandmother from behind me, “Cassie is very much concerned to find out what Jack Finch is like.”

“He’s all wrapped up in Judy,” gran said in a fluty voice, “and that’s the most important thing.”

[…]

“Is Jude wrapped up too?” I said. I said it possibly a little too loudly or pointedly just to let her know how a phrase like wrapped-up sounds to the sensitive ear; but though I meant it only for her, it was my father who answered.

“I don’t think we need to be too much concerned,” he said. “They seem to understand each other.”

This was the second time he’s used the word concerned, and I considered asking him why he kept using it on me. Was the implication that what Judith did was no concern of mine, because if that was what he meant I should make it very clear that I could not possibly be less concerned. If a person of her stature and of her gifts chooses to sell herself short and go all the way of suburbia, who am I to speak up for what I think of as virtue? Who am I? Or possibly, who am I? Make it who was I, because once I was somebody. (pgs. 39-40)

Cassandra is a fascinating yet very complex character – possibly one of the most complicated I have ever encountered in fiction. She is intelligent and precise, and at times charming witty and loving. But she can also be domineering, manipulative, self-absorbed and cruel. Her thoughts and actions are full of contradictions, and there are instances when she tries to delude herself, possibly to avoid the truth. At heart, Cassandra is emotionally dependent on Judith, and deep down her sister’s earlier departure to New York and imminent marriage feel like acts of betrayal. The presence of a grand piano in Cassandra’s apartment – an instrument jointly purchased by the twins – remains a constant painful reminder of Judith’s desertion. The twins were meant to live their lives together, travel to Paris and beyond, so how could Judith ever imagine her life being any other way? 

As the story unfolds, it appears as if Cassandra is all set to derail her sister’s wedding, tapping into the reckless, self-centred facets of her character. In this scene, Cassandra is alone with Judith following a kerfuffle over their wedding outfits:

I twitched and got her arm off my shoulder quite fast and quite suddenly. After all, I didn’t have to sit here with some bride and listen to her saying wedding dress over and over.

“Will you just do this,” she said, and she was pleading now – “wear the dress you bought? Let me get something else, but you wear that one, will you please – for me?”

I turned and looked at her. The pounding was very strong now and my eyes felt as if they’d caught fire. I had my glass in my hand, about a fourth full.

“For you?” I said. “Who’s that?” and I drained the glass at a shot and threw it as hard as I could down onto the terrace between us and the pool. It shattered with a real smash and I felt one of the pieces hit me in the leg. (pg. 77)

And here we see how Judith – who by contrast to Cassandra is calm, reasonable, sensible yet vulnerable in her own way – finds her sister rather overwhelming and draining on occasions:

“I’m going alone,” she said. “I thought I told you.”

“You told me so many things,” I said.

She waited a minute, looking back over her shoulder toward the pool; then she looked down at me, and said very quietly, “No, I don’t think I really told you anything. It was all you, you did the talking, you made all the plans, and I, I don’t know, but I think I got sort of drowned in it, or snowed under. When you hit your stride you’re –”

“I’m what. Tell me. I absolutely have to know what I am when I hit my stride.”

“You’re overwhelming. It’s some sort of crazy vitality and it goes out like rays. I’d forgotten what it’s like to be with you – kind of a circus. Only –”

She stopped, and I wasn’t quite sure I wanted to prod her. Maybe the best would be to keep her stopped, but before I thought how to do it it was too late.

That’s probably all I should reveal about the plot, save to say that there’s plenty of drama to come. In the second section of the book, Judith takes up the role of narrator and we hear a very different voice, more mature and measured in tone.

In some respects, Cassandra and the Wedding is novel about the process of maturing as a young adult, finding a sense of self that feels comfortable and true. Cassandra has to balance the pull of her relationship with Judith against the need to break free to establish her own identity – and the reverse applies too, adding another layer of complexity to the twins’ relationship. There are allusions to Greek mythology; the girls’ father is a retired philosopher, and their names are not insignificant. Moreover, the novel’s ending has an air of ambiguity about it, one that makes it all the more intriguing to revisit.

With her distinctive voice and complex personality, Cassandra is one of my favourite characters from literature — and while the novel exposes her, replete with flaws, Baker adds some wonderful comic touches to elevate the mood. I’ll finish with one of Cassie’s one-liners – of which there are many – following her grandmother’s declaration that it’s ‘God’s plan’ for Judy and Jack to be together:

“What do you suppose God’s planning for me?” I said. “Besides poverty, chastity, obedience, brain damage and death?” (pg. 96)

Cassandra at the Wedding is published in the UK by NYRB Classics (and more recently by Daunt Books); personal copy.