Oh my heart, my heart. I think perhaps it might burst from sadness. I first read the book when I was thirteen? Fourteen? Anyway, Anne's age at the time of her writing. Now, I have kids that age. And upon viewing this I discovered that Anne's real name is the same as my daughters. It was gut wrenching and riveting the first time and it is now. Only different. This is a touchstone that I revisit every decade or so to discover how much and how little I have changed.
I just can't review this one except to say that it may very well be the definitive version. There was at least one thing about it that I didn't love and maybe I will come back and talk about it later but I just can' t do it now. I am too moved to say a bad word.
Here is a picture of the real Anne that we know from her book. And here is one of her most famous quotes.
"In spite of everything, I still believe that people are really good at heart. I simply can't build up my hopes on a foundation consisting of confusion, misery and death. July 15, 1944"
I am editing to add this. It is a thought I just had concerning this topic. I think that a life that shies away from sadness can know no joy. Suffering, pain, all of it are essential to knowing beauty. The terrible sadness of reading Anne Frank (or in the case watching it) reminds me of who I am and who I could easily become if I allow evil to reign. It makes me a stronger, better person. Anne reminds me of who I want to be.
