"The Diary of a Young Girl" leaves readers believing this of Anne Frank: "You think, what a clever, intelligent girl that was; I wish I'd known her," said Eva Schloss.
Schloss did. She was childhood friends with Anne. And Schloss's widowed mother, who had lost her husband in the Holocaust, married Otto Frank, who had lost his family, including his daughter Anne.
Schloss, like Otto, was a Holocaust survivor (due to "a lot of miracles and luck"), and later became an author, peace activist, and lecturer who will speak at the University of Minnesota's Northrop auditorium on Oct. 27.
Speaking from her adopted London, Schloss said in an interview that Otto was a "very, very wise person" whose influence was fundamental in Anne becoming "at an early, young age a wise woman" who talked about "feminism, racism, and peace — all kinds of ideas which a child that age wouldn't normally talk about."
This adult sophistication, leveled with childhood sweetness, is apparent in a diary that's endeared her to readers and endured as a seminal entry point to learning about the Holocaust since it was first published in Europe in the 1940s and the U.S. in the 1950s.
"The significance of Anne Frank's diary lies in that its publication plays a vital role in the history of Holocaust memory, or Holocaust public consciousness, in the U.S. and then globally," Alejandro Baer, director of the U's Center for Holocaust and Genocide Studies, said in an e-mail exchange. Since then, Baer continued, "via popular (American) culture, Anne Frank became a universal symbol. It stresses the commonality of the human experience, independently of the ethnic or religious identity of the victims."
Nowadays, Baer continued, "in today's cultural context where the Holocaust is all around us (in media, film, popular culture, political language, public commemorations) but not really known, the eloquent diary entries of this young girl in hiding provide clarity and immediacy that few other accounts can provide."
Anne seemed to realize the importance of the diary, in which "the private and the public absolutely collapses into each other," said Robert Jan van Pelt, curator of an Auschwitz exhibit at the Museum of Jewish Heritage in New York.