In her private journal, a teenager finds fault with her mother and pronounces her parents' marriage a mere convenience. One entry reads, "If she had only one aspect of an understanding mother, either tenderness, or kindness, or patience or something else, I would keep trying to approach her." Elsewhere she complains that her father does not love his wife, that he kisses her as he kisses his daughters.
These are not the sort of disclosures that usually stop presses. But what if the diarist was Anne Frank, the most storied victim of the Holocaust, the precocious prose stylist whose single published...
To continue reading:
or
Log-In
