安妮日记英文版_安妮·弗兰克-第11部分

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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；　anne　

tuesday；　september　29；　1942

dearest　kitty；

the　strangest　things　happen　to　you　when　youre　in　hiding！　try　to　picture　this。

because　we　dont　have　a　bathtub；　we　wash　ourselves　in　a　washtub；　and　because　theres　only　hot　water　in　the　office　（by　which　i　mean　the　entire　lower　floor）；　the　seven　of　us　take　turns　making　the　most　of　this　great　opportunity。　but　since　none　of　us　are　alike　and　are　all　plagued　by　varying　degrees　of　modesty；　each　member　of　the

family　has　selected　a　different　place　to　wash。　peter　takes　a　bath　in　the　office　kitchen；　even　though　it　has　a　glass　door。　when　its　time　for　his　bath；　he　goes　around　to　each　of　us　in　turn　and　announces　that　we　shouldnt　walk　past　the　kitchen　for　the　next　half　hour。　he　considers　this　measure　to　be　sufficient。　mr。　van　d。　takes　his　bath　upstairs；　figuring　that　the　safety　of　his　own　room　outweighs　the　difficulty　of　having　to　carry　the　hot　water　up　all　those　stairs。　mrs。　van　d。　has　yet　to　take　a　bath；　shes　waiting　to　see　which　is　the　best　place。　father　bathes　in　the　private　office　and　mother　in　the　kitchen　behind　a　fire　screen；　while　margot　and　i　have　declared　the　front　office　to　be　our　bathing　grounds。　since　the　curtains　are　drawn　on　saturday　afternoon；　we　scrub　ourselves　in　the　dark；　while　the　one　who　isnt　in　the　bath　looks　out　the　window　through　a　chink　in　the　curtains　and　gazes　in　wonder　at　the　endlessly　amusing　people。

a　week　ago　i　decided　i　didnt　like　this　spot　and　have　been　on　the　lookout　for　more　fortable　bathing　quarters。　it　was　peter　who　gave　me　the　idea　of　setting　my　washtub　in　the　spacious　office　bathroom。　i　can　sit　down；　turn　on　the　light；　lock　the　door；　pour　out　the　water　without　anyones　help；　and　all　without　the　fear　of　being　seen。

i　used　my　lovely　bathroom　for　the　first　time　on　sunday　and；　strange　as　it　may　seem；　i　like　it　better　than　any　other　place。

the　plumber　was　at　work　downstairs　on　wednesday；　moving　the　water　pipes　and　drains　from　the　office　bathroom　to　the　hallway　so　the　pipes　wont　freeze　during　a　cold　winter。　the　plumbers　visit　was　far　from　pleasant。　not　only　were　we　not　allowed　to　run　water　during　the　day；　but　the　bathroo