Anne Frank's Tales from the Secret Annex Read Free Page A

tirade.
    ‘How can you possibly understand the inner life of a man? Of course you can follow that of a child [!]. But you’re far too young to read a book like that. Even a twenty-year-old man would be unable to comprehend it.’ (So why did he go out of his way to recommend it to Margot and me?)
    Mrs van D. and Dussel continued their harangue: ‘You know far too much about things you’re not supposed to. You’ve been brought up all wrong. Later on, when you’re older, you won’t be able to enjoy anything any more. You’ll say, “Oh, I read that twenty years ago in some book.” You’d better hurry if you want to catch a husband or fall in love, since everything is bound to be a disappointment to you. [Get ready – here comes the best part.] You already know all there is to know in theory. But in practice? That’s another story!’
    Can you imagine how I felt? I astonished myself by calmly replying, ‘You may think I haven’t been raised properly, but many people would disagree!’
    They apparently believe that good child-rearing includes trying to pit me against my parents, since that’s all they ever do. And not telling a girl my age about grown-up subjects is fine. We can all see what happens when people are raised that way.
    At that moment I could have killed them both for poking fun at me. I was beside myself with rage, and counting the days until we no longer have to put up with each other’s company.
    Mrs van D.’s a fine one to talk! She sets an example all right – a bad one. She’s known to be exceedingly pushy, empty-headed and perpetually dissatisfied. Add to that vanity and coquettishness and there’s no question about it: she has a thoroughly despicable character. I could write an entire book about Madame van Daan, and who knows, maybe some time I will. Deep down inside, she doesn’t seem to have even one good trait. Anyone can put on acharming exterior when they want to. Mrs van D. is friendly to men, so it’s easy to make a mistake until you get to know her true nature. A good person can’t imagine at first that she could be so cunning, so calculating and so selfish. It’s impossible, you think, for anyone who looks reasonably well-bred on the outside to be so empty and bare on the inside.
    Mother thinks that Mrs van D. is too stupid for words, Margot that she’s too unimportant, Pim that she’s too ugly (literally and figuratively!), and after long observation (I’m not so distrustful at the beginning), I’ve come to the conclusion that she’s all three of the above, and lots more besides. She has so many bad traits that I can’t single out just one of them.
     
    Will the reader please take into consideration that this story was written before the writer’s fury had cooled?
     
    Monday, 2 August 1943

The Battle of the Potatoes
    A FTER NEARLY THREE months of peace and quiet, interrupted by only a few quibbles, a fierce discussion broke out again today. It happened early in the morning, when we were peeling potatoes, and caught everyone off guard. I’ll give a rundown of the conversation, though it was impossible to follow it all since everyone was talking at once.
    Mrs van D. started it off (naturally!) by remarking that anyone who doesn’t help peel potatoes in the morning should be required to do so in the evening. There was no reply, which apparently didn’t suit the van Daans, since shortly after that Mr van D. suggested that we all peel our own potatoes, with the exception of Peter, since peeling potatoes isn’t a suitable job for a boy. (Note the crystal-clear logic!)
    Mr van D. went on: ‘What I can’t understand is why the men always have to help with the peeling. It means that the work isn’t divided equally. Why should one person have to do more communal chores than another?’
    Mother interrupted at this point, since she could see where the conversation was heading. ‘Aha, Mr van Daan, I know what comes next. You’re going to tell us for the umpteenth time