My Literary Doppelganger

Books have been an important part of my life since I can remember. As a child with a disability, I had a fairly isolated upbringing, so I found the companionship I lacked in works of fiction. As such, the list of books that have influenced me is a long one!

I could write about the first book I ever read, a Little Golden Book Cinderella, and how that book introduced me to the joys of reading. I could write about reading the American Girl series in elementary school and how those books inspired me to take up sewing, which eventually led me to a career. I could write about the Harry Potter series and how it led me to an online community where I found a much-needed sense of camaraderie. While many books have changed my life in some way, only one has been a recurring source of comfort when I needed it most. Only one inspired me to keep going when I was ready to give up on life. That book: A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens.

Set in late 18th century London and Paris, A Tale of Two Cities chronicles the lives of the Manette family, their friends, and associates in the years leading up to and during the French Revolution. Among these friends and associates are two men in love with the beautiful Lucie Manette: French aristocrat-turned-exile Charles Darnay and drunken English attorney Sydney Carton. One is an upstanding citizen with an infamous lineage, the other a wayward soul with hidden depths. Two men so opposite in background and personality, yet so similar in appearance as to be mistaken for each other.

While Sydney Carton was Charles Darnay’s doppelganger in appearance, he’s practically my doppelganger in every other way. The similarities unfolded throughout the course of my life, and as I discovered them, they gave me comfort in my darkest moments.

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"I am like one who died young. All my life is might have been..."

My introduction to A Tale of Two Cities came at the tender age of six, and it didn’t happen in the way one might think. It wasn’t the book itself but a television adaptation, specifically an episode of Wishbone. For those who don’t know, Wishbone was a public television series from the mid-90s about a jack russell terrier who just happened to be a bookworm. Each episode was divided into two plots. The “A” plot was a retelling of a classic work of literature with the dog Wishbone cast in a main role, such as Victor Frankenstein in Frankenstein, Mr. Darcy in Pride and Prejudice, and Charles Darnay in A Tale of Two Cities. The “B” plot was a real world story about Wishbone and his family that coincided with the literary work’s conflict.

The downside to that format was that it dropped many plot points, cut some key characters (Jerry Cruncher, John Barsad, and of all people, the Marquis St. Evremonde), and sidelined others (Dr. Manette, Mr. Lorry, and Miss Pross). The result was such a truncated mess that my six-year-old mind could barely follow the story! I watched with confusion and mild disinterest until one character captured my attention, a man in a mismatched costume with dark hair and a perpetually sad expression. Sydney Carton.

I have no idea why my younger self was so drawn to Sydney Carton. All I know is what little of the story I understood at age six had to do with him. I understood that Sydney loved Lucie Manette. I understood that he changed places with Charles Darnay in prison for her sake. I understood what the guillotine did and exactly how Sydney was going to die. I vividly remember feeling furious over his death at the end of that episode! To my young mind, Madame Defarge was responsible. Her backstory and reason for her vendetta against the Evremondes were among the key points truncated, so I didn’t know why she wanted Charles Darnay dead. In six-year-old logic, Sydney Carton wouldn’t have died if Madame Defarge had left Charles Darnay alone!

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"I shall never be better than I am. I shall sink lower, and be worse..."

It would be nine more years until I read the book for the first time, but I never forgot about Sydney Carton and that episode of Wishbone. My freshman year of high school, I took Honors English, and I was so excited to see A Tale of Two Cities on the syllabus. I couldn’t wait to dive in and see how that long ago episode compared with the book itself. Spoiler alert: it didn’t! As I read the book at age fifteen, everything that was lost on me at age six made sense… Dr. Manette’s wrongful imprisonment, Charles Darnay’s renunciation of his family title, Madame Defarge’s vengance and the intricacies of the French Revolution.

Once I started the book, I couldn’t put it down! Every turn of the page brought new information that made me see the story I saw on tv years ago in a different light, but one thing never changed. I was still drawn to Sydney Carton. My curiosity would pique whenever I saw his name on the page, and I remember being surprised at first by his blunt mannerisms and alcoholic tendencies, neither of which had translated to the Wishbone version of the character. The more I thought about it, I realized I liked it better that he didn’t start out as the gallant hero type. Knowing that he had to work for his redemption made it all the more meaningful, and his flaws made him more relatable than every other character in the book combined!

Even as a teenager, I had more in common with him than I knew. Early on in the book, Sydney Carton reminisces of his school days, “Even then, I did exercises for other boys, and seldom did my own.” That was just like me. I was always the person everyone turned to for homework help, despite my own lackluster grades. Also like Sydney, I’d already gained a reputation for an unkempt appearance and blunt cynicism, and I had ambitions of becoming an attorney when I grew up.

That semester, I discovered another similarity between myself and Sydney Carton: failure. Sydney fell behind in life, and I fell behind at school. A few weeks into that semester, I developed a dangerous case of strep throat which required a tonsillectomy. Between the infection and the surgery, I could hardly speak or swallow for two months, and I missed a lot of school. What started out as an English assignment became my escape from the drudgery of the never-ending make-up work with which I could never keep up. When I felt discouraged from the sickness and schoolwork, I found comfort in Sydney Carton, so much so that I named a cat plush my dad gave me as a “get well” present after him. His story gave me hope that I could redeem myself even if my grades suffered that semester, and that took the pressure off the schoolwork.

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"I wish you to know that you have been the last dream of my soul..."

For sixteen years, A Tale of Two Cities and Sydney Carton lay dormant in my mind, like an old friend no longer at the forefront of my life but never forgotten. By a random chance in Summer 2020, I rediscovered my old favorite in a new way. While mindlessly scrolling through youtube, I saw a thumbnail of a familiar-looking character with dark hair and a dark expression. The title was something to do with A Tale of Two Cities: the musical. My first thought was, What is this, and how do I not know about it?!

I clicked out of curiosity, and what I saw blew me away. I saw this Sydney Carton mourning his misspent life in song form. In him, I saw my own failures, and by the end of the song I was crying along with him for his wasted life as much as my own. By then, I was close to Sydney’s age when he first appeared in the book, and I had little to show for my life. No spouse, no kids, no drivers’ license, no degree, no steady job, and no social circle. Like him, I fell short of the benchmarks for a normal life. Like him, I was a disappointed drudge. I cared for no one on earth, and no one cared for me.

A reread of A Tale of Two Cities confirmed what I already suspected. Somewhere along the way, I became a modern female Sydney Carton. Cynicism? Check. Self-loathing? Check. Drinking habit? Check. Law background? Check (though mine never amounted to any money or accolades). Does intellectual work for which someone else takes credit? Check. Wasted potential? Big check! And that’s not the only common ground. During my reread, I remembered another, darker similarity.

Book 3, Chapter 9 of A Tale of Two Cities offers this information about Sydney Carton’s backstory, “Long ago, when he had been famous among his earliest competitors as a youth of great promise, he had followed his father to the grave. His mother had died, years before.” That’s not far removed from my own past, except with the parents’ genders reversed. I lost my father at a young age, and without him, my mother gave up on life. I always swore I’d never repeat her mistakes, but the pandemic brought me the closest I’ve ever come to following my mother to the grave. I saw no end to the isolation other than taking my own life. Had I not found that video and rediscovered Sydney Carton when I did, I wouldn’t be alive today.

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It turns out that Charles Darnay wasn’t the only doppelganger whose life Sydney Carton saved. He reminded me that no matter how far one has fallen, there’s always a chance for redemption. That inspired me to make one last ditch attempt to make something useful of my life, and that led me to share more common ground. Like him, I finally found a Lucie Manette, someone who sees the good behind my flaws and the only person I love more than I hate myself. Also like Sydney, I made a promise to do right by that person, no matter what the personal sacrifice. While it’s unlikely those sacrifices will involve my life, I found my purpose in serving another. I can only hope that through my newfound purpose, I’ll rise to the occasion and redeem a misspent life, just like my literary doppelganger.