By Donald H. Harrison

SAN DIEGO, Calif.—  Ellen Naomi Cohen of Baltimore was so fat she was shunned by the in-crowd of her high school, such an outcast that she dropped out before graduation. She had at least one thing going for her, a voice, and the ability to project a self-confidence she never did really feel.  Ignoring barbs about her weight, she started singing in clubs with two fellows in a group called the Triumvirate.  Later, she sang in a different group called the Mugwumps.

The Mugwumps were good, but not good enough, and one of its singers, Denny Doherty, joined songwriter John Phillips and his wife, Michelle, to create a new group. The former Ellen Cohen— who by now had reversed her initials from  "E.C." to "C.E." by taking the stage name Cass Elliot— went with Doherty to St. Thomas, Virgin Islands, where, on a street known as Creque Alley, Doherty and the Phillipses began working out rhythms and melodies. John Phillips recognized that Cass Elliot had a wonderful voice, but as far as he was concerned she simply was too fat.  He wanted the group he was forming to look like Peter, Paul and Mary.  You could stand several Mary's inside Cass.

Cass and Denny were close friends, but never the lovers that she had hoped they would become. Same problem: As far as Denny was concerned, Cass was too fat.  When their money ran out, they returned to New York City, where the Mugwumps had performed, but found that, as the lyrics of one of their later famous songs put it, that L.A. was "where it's at" so Cass and later the rest of them headed for the West Coast.  Impoverished, they lived in a crash pad, where the utilities had been turned off, until finally they were able to audition for a record company. Cass maneuvered the situation so that she was on the audition tape, which the record producers absolutely loved.  They would sign the foursome to a contract, only and especially if Cass was included.  

Well, what to call the group? The Hell's Angels Motorcycle Gang used to refer to their men as the "Papas" and their women as the "Mamas."  It had a ring.   And so, they became the Mamas and the Papas, and Ellen Naomi Cohen of Baltimore would go on to become "Mama Cass."  And one day, Mimi Seligman, who had snubbed fat Ellen in high school, was at a Mamas and Papas performance and greeted Cass as if she were an old friend.  Cass cut her off, dismissively: "You didn't know me then, and I don't know you now!"  

Biographer Eddi Fiegel, in Dream A Little Dream of Me, does a wonderful job of bringing back the era of the Momas and the Papas, the Loving Spoonful, Bob Dylan, the Byrds, and, of course, the Beatles, in the biography of the big voice with an even bigger body.  It would be nice to report that Ellen Naomi Cohen proved that "fat was where it's at" and had shown the Mimi Seligmans and similarly  thin and chic counterparts in high schools everywhere that talent, personality, and the contents of our brains are more important than our physical appearances.   

But whereas Cass Elliot's record-buying and concert-attending fans could be adoring, in her personal relationships she never could achieve happiness.  Doherty not only didn't love her, he snuck around having sex with Michelle Phillips, causing a rift within the band, that while patched up, never healed.  Cass felt betrayed both by Doherty and Michelle Phillips, but found no comfort from fellow victim, John Phillips.  The songwriter was a power tripper who felt  threatened by the fact that Cass's voice carried the group to stardom. And so, like the Beatles, and other storied bands, the Mamas and the Papas eventually broke up.  Although Cass Elliott tried to become a successful solo artist, it was a downhill slide. She never again achieved the kind of fame she had with the Mamas and the Papas.

Her life was filled with contradictions.  Her first marriage with fellow Mugwump James Hendricks never was consummated; it was simply to keep him out of the Vietnam draft.  Whoever was the father of her daughter Owen never was revealed. Her second marriage, after the Mama and Papa breakup, didn't last. The queen of a party—sometimes called the Gertrude Stein of the rock n' roll set—Cass never believed the men she bedded really liked her. She always feared  that they were attracted only to her fame and money.   And yet, though she was constantly depressed—a problem amplified by her frequent use of drugs—she could turn on the charm, the wit, and the talent on stage and make people believe that Frank Sinatra-like, she could do it her way.

She died in 1974 at age 32 after a two-week run hosting a cabaret-style show in London, the victim of a heart attack that doctors said was caused by her obesity.  Read the book, and then someone answer me.  If  Ellen Cohen could do it all over again, but as Mimi Seligman, what would she choose?