I am probably among the last people on the planet to have read Anne Frank’s diary, and given that, this review is probably very redundant. I am doing it nonetheless because it’s one of the best books I’ve read in a long time.
Anne Frank’s was one of the Jewish families that went into hiding during Hitler’s reign. Her diary is a day-to-day account of life in hiding, written between the ages of 13 and 15. Even though it was never intended for public readership, it makes for a smooth storyline and an extremely engaging one at that. It re-emphasizes, time and again, the futility of war.
Anne Frank was 13 when she started writing her diary and I’m 21, and yet, I can relate to everything she writes about growing up in a world where adulthood is defined by age and not maturity of thought.
“We’re all alive, but we don’t know why or what for; we’re all searching for happiness; we’re all leading lives that are different and yet the same… People who are religious should be glad, since not everyone is blessed with the ability to believe in a higher order… Not the fear of God, but upholding your own sense of honor and obeying your own conscience. How noble and good everyone will be if, at the end of each day, they were to review their own behavior and weigh up the rights and wrongs.”
In the movie The History Boys, the Professor talks about such a literary relationship with a book,
“The best moments in reading are when you come across something – a thought, a feeling, a way of looking at things – that you’d thought special, particular to you. And here it is, set down by someone else, a person you’ve never met, maybe even someone long dead. And it’s as if a hand has come out, and taken yours.”
Anne Frank’s diary has really inspired me to resume writing my own. I want to document every part of my life, every moment, everything that has ever meant anything to me.
“Paper has more patience than people.” – Anne Frank.