Mitchell Kennerley
Some day (I hope in the near future) some one will write a true appreciation of Mitchell Kennerley, the great Pathfinder in the American publishing field. He has done more for us here than any other English book dealer ever anywhere, with the exception perhaps of Heineman in London. In America, Mitchell Kennerley remains unique. Endless is the list of English and American authors he introduced to his readers for the first time. We know, for instance, that Dutton’s sold in one month the complete first edition of Leonard Merrick’s collected works, and thousands of copies of his books since. But Mitchell Kennerley introduced him to us twelve years ago, when no one knew his name. Or Hergesheimer, a best seller ever since the Saturday Evening Post placed him among its regular contributors, but Mitchell Kennerley published his best seller of today many years ago. He gave us the tragic poets Middleton and Davidson, and no one has printed them since. The first part of his catalogue is a roll of honor of the English nineties. He always kept a sharp eye for American contemporary authors, and usually got the best of the work they had done and, I am sorry to say, ever will do. There is Harry Kemp, for instance. He didn’t beat his first book yet, published by Kennerley a half dozen years ago. Horace Traubel found his life’s dream materialized when Mitchell Kennerley published his diaries With Walt Whitman in Camden. Not to forget Alexander Harvey’s masterful short stories. One of them (The Toe) is worth a whole bookshelf of short stories. And dear Michael Monahan, whose charming books he published, whose magazine, The Papyrus, he gave a temporary home.
Mitchell Kennerley also claims the honor of having introduced Frank Harris to America.