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'Henry Kendall was once regarded as Australia's finest poet, compared favourably with Wordsworth. His poetry was romantic, sentimental in its celebration of the Australian bush he loved. But he was more Henry Lawson than John Keats: a self-pitying wife deserter, cadger and drunkard. And it ran in the family.
'From 1859, Kendall published prolifically in newspapers and periodicals. But he struggled to support a wife and children through poems and articles, his first poetry book was a financial failure (though critically acclaimed) and his brother and sister contributed to his financial troubles.
'Often in debt and on the precipice of bankruptcy, Kendall suffered from poverty, ill health and drunkenness. In 1870, he was charged with forging a cheque, and found not guilty on grounds of insanity; two years later, he spent time in an insane asylum. But from 1876, he began to rebuild his life and career, and in 1880 his collection Songs from the Mountain was an outstanding success.
'In this intriguing work of literary investigation, celebrated author and historian Adrian Mitchell delves deep into Kendall's storied life and uncovers a dark past that casts new shadows on his legacy. He discovers that this habitually self-effacing poet had good reason to keep himself and his family out of the limelight. This is the true story of Henry Kendall, his parents and his grandparents - and he had every reason to dread it being made public.' (Publication summary)
Publication Details of Only Known VersionEarliest 2 Known Versions of
Works about this Work
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Adrian Mitchell Sensationalises the Life of Henry Kendall
2021
single work
review
— Appears in: History Australia , vol. 18 no. 3 2021; (p. 634-635)
— Review of Where Shadows Have Fallen : The Descent of Henry Kendall 2020 single work biography'The blurb for Adrian Mitchell’s Where Shadows Have Fallen promises a sensational account of the prominent colonial poet Henry Kendall (1839–1881). Yet despite the claim on the back cover that Kendall ‘had every reason to dread it being made public’, the broad contours of his short but complex life are no secret. At the same time as writing three collections of poetry—Poems and Songs (1862), Leaves from Australian Forests (1869), and Songs from the Mountains (1880)—and numerous prize-winning poems for public occasions, he also struggled with alcohol addiction and experienced a prolonged mental health crisis following the death of his first child in infancy from ‘a combination of fever brought on by bad teeth, and malnutrition’ (133). In telling this grim story, Mitchell follows in the wake of Michael Ackland’s definitive biography, Henry Kendall: The Man and the Myths (The Miegunyah Press, 1995). While Mitchell disputes Ackland’s emphasis on Kendall’s Calvinistic family heritage, he primarily positions his account in response to a series of much older works by Agnes Hamilton-Grey—who Mitchell describes as ‘more a hagiographer than a biographer’—written in the 1920s (12). What distinguishes Mitchell’s account from those of all his predecessors, however, is the minimal attention that it pays to Kendall’s writing.' (Introduction)
-
Adrian Mitchell Sensationalises the Life of Henry Kendall
2021
single work
review
— Appears in: History Australia , vol. 18 no. 3 2021; (p. 634-635)
— Review of Where Shadows Have Fallen : The Descent of Henry Kendall 2020 single work biography'The blurb for Adrian Mitchell’s Where Shadows Have Fallen promises a sensational account of the prominent colonial poet Henry Kendall (1839–1881). Yet despite the claim on the back cover that Kendall ‘had every reason to dread it being made public’, the broad contours of his short but complex life are no secret. At the same time as writing three collections of poetry—Poems and Songs (1862), Leaves from Australian Forests (1869), and Songs from the Mountains (1880)—and numerous prize-winning poems for public occasions, he also struggled with alcohol addiction and experienced a prolonged mental health crisis following the death of his first child in infancy from ‘a combination of fever brought on by bad teeth, and malnutrition’ (133). In telling this grim story, Mitchell follows in the wake of Michael Ackland’s definitive biography, Henry Kendall: The Man and the Myths (The Miegunyah Press, 1995). While Mitchell disputes Ackland’s emphasis on Kendall’s Calvinistic family heritage, he primarily positions his account in response to a series of much older works by Agnes Hamilton-Grey—who Mitchell describes as ‘more a hagiographer than a biographer’—written in the 1920s (12). What distinguishes Mitchell’s account from those of all his predecessors, however, is the minimal attention that it pays to Kendall’s writing.' (Introduction)
