Friday, July 26, 2013
So I read The Diary of Anne Frank for the first time yesterday.
At one point, I accidentally turned to the reader guide, which was in the middle of this edition. And I found out what happened to her.
I was horrified.
I keep thinking it was a Hans Christian Andersen ending.
I like very few of his fairy tales, partly because he tends to break the contract with the reader. Also, I honestly think he hated human beings and meant -- or expected -- that they should all suffer. Yes, that could be due to his upbringing or religion; right now, that's just how her story's end strikes me.
No wonder I enjoy mysteries. Lois Bujold calls them fantasies of justice. Because in a mystery I expect fairness. That suffering will be rewarded, prisoners will be freed...
Or as Oscar Wilde puts it: "The good ended happily, and the bad unhappily."
The bad are punished, not the good -- unless the story's a different sort of tragedy... Remember that bit in Good Omens, when the authors suggest that perhaps your own belief about tropical fish, and that child growing up happy are preferable?
I feel like that. As if I should dream about how her story should have ended. Getting prizes in school. Being happy. Except my mind keeps shying away, afraid that I'll not be able to block out what did happen. Everyone deserves to be happy... everyone. I have no words for how deeply wrong this is.