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yours； anne
sunday； september 27； 1942
dearest kitty；
mother and i had a so…called 〃discussion〃 today； but the annoying part is that i burst into tears。 i cant help it。 daddy is always nice to me； and he also understands me much better。 at moments like these i cant stand mother。 its obvious that im a stranger to her； she doesnt even know what i think about the most ordinary things。
we were talking about maids and the fact that youre supposed to refer to them as 〃domestic help〃 these days。 she claimed that when the war is over； thats what theyll want to be called。 i didnt quite see it that way。 then she added that i talk about later〃 so often and that i act as if i were such a lady； even though im not； but i dont think building sand castles in the air is such a terrible thing to do； as long as you dont take it too seriously。 at any rate； daddy usually es to my defense。
without him i wouldnt be able to stick it out here。
i dont get along with margot very well either。 even though our family never has the same kind of outbursts they have upstairs； i find it far from pleasant。 margots and mothers personalities are so alien to me。 i understand my girlfriends better than my own mother。 isnt that a shame？
for the umpteenth time； mrs。 van daan is sulking。 shes very moody and has been removing more and more of her belongings and locking them up。 its too bad mother doesnt repay every van daan 〃disappearing act〃 with a frank 〃disappearing act。鈥�
some people； like the van daans； seem to take special delight not only in raising their own children but in helping others raise theirs。 margot doesnt need it； since shes naturally good； kind and clever； perfection itself； but i seem to have enough mischief for the two of us。 more than once the air has been filled with the van daans admonitions and my saucy replies。 father and mother always defend me fiercely。
without them i wouldnt be able to jump back into the fray with my usual posure。
they keep telling me i should talk less； mind my own business and be more modest； but i seem doomed to failure。 if father werent so patient； id have long ago given up hope of ever meeting my parents quite moderate expectations。
if i take a small helping of a vegetable i loathe and eat potatoes instead； the van daans； especially mrs。 van daan； cant get over how spoiled i am。 〃e on； anne； eat some more vegetables；〃 she says。
〃no； thank you； maam；〃 i reply。 〃the potatoes are more than enough。鈥�
〃vegetables are good for you； your mother says so too。 have some more；〃 she insists； until father intervenes and upholds my right to refuse a dish i dont like。
then mrs。 van d。 really flies off the handle： 〃you should have been at our house； where children were brought up the way they should be。 i dont call this a proper upbringing。 anne is terribly spoiled。 id never allow that。 if anne were my daughter。 。
。鈥�
this is always how her tirades begin and end： 〃if anne were my daughter。 。 。〃 thank goodness im not。
but to get back to the subject of raising children； yesterday a silence fell after mrs。
van d。 finished her little speech。 father then replied； 〃i think anne is very well brought up。 at least shes learned not to respond to your interminable sermons。 as far as the vegetables are concerned； all i have to say is look whos calling the kettle black。鈥�
mrs。 van d。 was soundly defeated。 the pot calling the ketde black refers of course to madame herself； since she cant tolerate beans or any kind of cabbage in the evening because they give her 〃gas。〃 but i could say the same。 what a dope； dont you think？
in any case； lets hope she stops talking about me。
its so funny to see how quickly mrs。 van daan flushes。 i dont； and it secredy annoys her no end。
yours； anne
monday； september 28；1942
dearest kitty；
i had to stop yesterday； though i was nowhere near finished。 im dying to tell you about another one of our clashes； but before i do id like to say this： i think its odd that grown…ups quarrel so easily and so often and about such petty matters。 up to now i always thought bickering was just something children did and that they outgrew it。 often； of course； theres sometimes a reason to have a real quarrel； but the verbal exchanges that take place here are just plain bickering。 i should be used to the fact that these squabbles are daily occurrences； but im not and never will be as long as im the subject of nearly every discussion。 （they refer to these as 〃discussions鈥�
instead of 〃quarrels；〃 but germans dont know the difference！） they criticize everything； and i mean everything； about me： my behavior； my personality； my manners； every inch of me； from head to toe and back again； is the subject of gossip and debate。 harsh words and shouts are constantly being flung at my head； though im absolutely not used to it。 according to the powers that be； im supposed to grin and
bear it。 but i cant！ i have no intention of taking their insults lying down。 ill show them that anne frank wasnt born yesterday。 theyll sit up and take notice and keep their big mouths shut when i make them see they ought to attend to their own manners instead of mine。 how dare they act that way！ its simply barbaric。 ive been astonished； time and again； at such rudeness and most of all。 。 。 at such stupidity （mrs。 van daan）。 but as soon as ive gotten used to the idea； and that shouldnt take long； ill give them a taste of their own medicine； and then theyll change their tune！
am i really as bad…mannered； headstrong； stubborn； pushy； stupid； lazy； etc。； etc。； as the van daans say i am？ no； of course not。 i know i have my faults and shortings； but they blow them all out of proportion！ if you only knew； kitty； how i seethe when they scold and mock me。 it wont take long before i explode with pent…up rage。
but enough of that。 ive bored you long enough with my quarrels； and yet i cant resist adding a highly interesting dinner conversation。
somehow we landed on the subject of pims extreme diffidence。 his modesty is a well…known fact； which even the stupidest person wouldnt dream of questioning。 all of a sudden mrs。 van daan； who feels the need to bring herself into every conversation； remarked； 〃im very modest and retiring too； much more so than my husband！鈥�
have you ever heard anything so ridiculous？ this sentence clearly illustrates that shes not exactly what youd call modest！
mr。 van daan； who felt obliged to explain the 〃much more so than my husband；鈥�
answered calmly； 〃i have no desire to be modest and retiring。 in my experience； you get a lot further by being pushy！〃 and turning to me； he added； 〃dont be modest and retiring； anne。 it will get you nowhere。鈥�
mother agreed pletely with this viewpoint。 but； as usual； mrs。 van daan had to add her two cents。 this time； however； instead of addressing me directly； she turned to my parents and said； 〃you must have a strange outlook on life to be able to say that to anne。 things were different when i was growing up。 though they probably havent changed much since then； except in your modern household！鈥�
this was a direct hit at mothers modern child…rearing methods； which shes defended on many occasions。 mrs。 van daan was so upset her face turned bright red。 people who flush easily bee even more agitated when they feel themselves getting hot under the collar； and they quickly lose to their opponents。
the nonflushed mother； who now wanted to have the matter over and done with as quickly as possible； paused for a moment to think before she replied。 〃well； mrs。 van daan； i agree that its much better if a person isnt overmodest。 my husband； margot and peter are all exceptionally modest。 your husband； anne and i； though not exactly the opposite； dont let ourselves be pushed around。鈥�
mrs。 van daan： 〃oh； but mrs。 frank； i dont understand what you mean！ honestly； im extremely modest and retiring。 how can you say that im pushy？鈥�
mother： 〃i didnt say you were pushy； but no one would describe you as having a retiring disposition。鈥�
mrs。 van d。： 〃id like to know in what way im pushy！ if i didnt look out for myself here； no one else would； and id soon starve； but that doesnt mean im not as modest and retiring as your husband。鈥�
mother had no choice but to laugh at this ridiculous self…defense； which irritated mrs。
van daan。 not exactly a born debater； she continued her magnificent account in a mixture of german and dutch； until she got so tangled up in her own words that she finally rose from her chair and was just about to leave the room when her eye fell on me。 you should have seen her！ as luck would have it； the moment mrs。 van d。 turned around i was shaking my head in a bination of passion and irony。 i wasnt doing it on purpose； but id followed her tirade so intently that my reaction was pletely involuntary。 mrs。 van d。 wheeled around and gave me a tongue…lashing：
hard； germanic； mean and vulgar； exactly like some fat； red…faced fishwife。 it was a joy to behold。 if i could draw； id like to have sketched her as she was then。 she struck me as so ical； that silly little scatterbrain！ ive learned one thing： you only really get to know a person after a fight。 only then can you judge their true character！
yours； an