I can't bring myself to talk about anything but ordinary everyday things. All I think about when I'm with friends is having a good time. No, on the surface I seem to have everything, except my one true friend. I have a family, loving aunts and a good home. I have a throng of admirers who can't keep their adoring eyes off me and who sometimes have to resort to using a broken pock et mirror to try and catch a glimpse of me in the classroom. I have loving parents and a sixteen-year-old sister, and there are about thirty people I can call friends. Let me put it more clearly, since no one will believe that a thirteen year-old girl is completely alone in the world. Now I'm back to the point that prompted me to keep a diary in the first place : I don't have a friend. Yes, paper does have more patience, and since I'm not planning to let anyone else read this stiff-backed notebook grandly referred to as a "diary," unless I should ever find a real friend, it probably won't make a bit of difference. " I thought of this saying on one of those days when I was feeling a little depressed and was sitting at home with my chin in my hands, bored and listless, wondering whether to stay in or go out. I feel like writing, and I have an even greater need to get all kinds of things off my chest. Not only because I've never written anything before, but also because it seems to me that later on neither I nor anyone else will be interested in the musings of a thirteen-year-old schoolgirl. “I had had no idea of the depth of her thoughts and feelings.SATURDAY, JWriting in a diary is a really strange experience for someone like me. “The Anne that appeared before me was very different from the daughter I had lost,” he recalled. As he read Anne’s words, he realized that he had not really known his daughter. “Here is your daughter Anne’s legacy to you,” she told Otto, placing the diary in front of him. When news finally came that Anne and her sister Margot had died, Gies gathered up the papers she had kept locked in the drawer since the Frank family’s arrest. The only survivor was Anne’s father, Otto Frank. Seven of the eight people in hiding died before the end of the war. Her future as a writer was snuffed out when she was betrayed, deported and murdered. “The differences between Anne’s initial efforts and her revisions vary from trivial to profound,” writes critic Francine Prose, “and deepen our respect for her as a writer.” Anne also wrote and rewrote essays and works of fiction. She edited for content, length and clarity and made a list of suggested pseudonyms for the people in her life. Since both versions of the diary survive, so do Anne’s shrewd edits. “What we really need are ordinary documents-a diary, letters.” Anne wrote about the broadcast in her diary and decided to edit and rewrite it with an aim for publication.īy the time of her capture, Anne had rewritten much of her diary. “History cannot be written on the basis of official decisions and documents alone,” he said. In March 1944, Anne heard a radio broadcast from the Dutch minister for education, art and science, who was in exile in London along with other members of the Dutch government. And she increasingly thought about her work as a potential book. She wrote about their protectors’ efforts to smuggle in the essentials of life at great risk. Inside the “secret annex,” as she called it, Anne documented her daily life, writing about herself, her family and the other people in hiding, Hermann and Auguste van Pels, their son Peter, and dentist Fritz Pfeffer. But when she and her family went into hiding the month after the diary began, it became a war document. At first, it was her place to record observations about friends and school and her innermost thoughts. The following summer, as Nazi oppression grew worse, the Franks went into hiding.Īnne Frank received her diary as a gift on her thirteenth birthday in 1942. This photo is one of the last pictures taken of Anne Frank in 1941.
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