John Keats died at 25, convinced he had failed. A poor apothecary’s apprentice, mocked by the critics as a “Cockney” upstart, he was dead within four years of publishing his first poem. Today he is remembered as one of the greatest poets in the English language.
Keats’s life was a long rehearsal for his own death. He lost his father to a riding accident, then watched tuberculosis take his mother and his brother Tom. He trained as a surgeon, and on a February night in 1820 he looked at a single drop of blood on his bed sheet and diagnosed his own death sentence. What followed was a doomed love affair, brutal reviews, a desperate journey to Rome, and a grave marked with a line that still haunts readers: “Here lies one whose name was writ in water.”
“Writ in water”: the grave, Adonais, and the myth that a review killed him
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