Anne Frank was born in Frankfurt, Germany on June 12, 1929.After the Nazis appropriated power in 1933, the Frank family moved to Amsterdam and led a quiet life until the German invasion of the Netherlands in 1940.
As an international literary presence, she would be thick rather than thin. She had already intuited what greatness in literature might mean, and she clearly sensed the force of what lay under her hand in the pages of her diary: a conscious literary record of frightened lives in daily peril; an explosive document aimed directly at the future.
In her last months, she was assiduously polishing phrases and editing passages with an eye to postwar publication.
It is easy to imagine—had she been allowed to live—a long row of novels and essays spilling from her fluent and ripening pen.
We can be certain (as certain as one can be of anything hypothetical) that her mature prose would today be noted for its wit and acuity, and almost as certain that the trajectory of her work would be closer to that of Nadine Gordimer, say, than to that of Francoise Sagan. This was more than an exaggerated adolescent flourish.
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Those unable to visit might be able to find these works in a nearby public library or acquire them through interlibrary loan.As a result of ever-increasing anti-Jewish measures and mounting uncertainty for their safety, the family went into hiding in July 1942, followed a week later by family friends, the van Pels, and their 15-year old son, Peter. The occupants of the Secret Annex, aided by friends, lived comfortably until August 4, 1944 when they were found and arrested by the SD.Anne died of typhus in March 1945 in Bergen-Belsen. Anne kept several diaries during her stay in the Secret Annex.Zyklon B, the lethal fumigant poured into the gas chambers, was, pointedly, a roach poison. One month before liberation, not yet sixteen, she died of typhus fever, an acute infectious disease carried by lice. That the diary is miraculous, a self-aware work of youthful genius, is not in question.The precise date of her death has never been determined. Variety of pace and tone, insightful humor, insupportable suspense, adolescent love pangs and disappointments, sexual curiosity, moments of terror, moments of elation, flights of idealism and prayer and psychological acumen—all these elements of mind and feeling and skill brilliantly enliven its pages.She and her sister, Margot, were among three thousand six hundred and fifty-nine women transported by cattle car from Auschwitz to the merciless conditions of Bergen-Belsen, a barren tract of mud. There is, besides, a startlingly precocious comprehension of the progress of the war on all fronts.In a cold, wet autumn, they suffered through nights on flooded straw in overcrowded tents, without light, surrounded by latrine ditches, until a violent hailstorm tore away what had passed for shelter. The survival of the little group in hiding is crucially linked to the timing of the Allied invasion.Her fault—her crime—was having been born a Jew, and as such she was classified among those who had no right to exist: not as a subject people, not as an inferior breed, not even as usable slaves. Let the end come, however cruel.” And on April 11, 1944; “We are Jews in chains.”The diary is not a genial document, despite its author’s often vividly satiric exposure of what she shrewdly saw as “the comical side of life in hiding.” Its reputation for uplift is, to say it plainly, nonsensical.The military and civilian apparatus of an entire society was organized to obliterate her as a contaminant, in the way of a noxious and repellent insect. Anne Frank’s written narrative, moreover, is not the story of Anne Frank, and never has been.Follow the “Find in a library near you” link in each citation and enter your zip code at the Open World Cat search screen.The results of that search indicate all libraries in your area that own that particular title.