They first discussed whether Anne should be allowed to use the table, yes or no. Father said that he and Dussel had dealt with the subject once before, at which time he’d professed to agree with Dussel because he didn’t want to contradict the elder in front of the younger, but that, even then, he hadn’t thought it was fair. Dussel felt I had no right to talk as if he were an intruder laying claim to everything in sight. But Father protested strongly, since he himself had heard me say nothing of the kind. And so the conversation went back and forth, with Father defending my ‘selfishness’ and my ‘pointless activities’ and Dussel grumbling the whole time.
Dussel finally had to give in, and I was granted the opportunity to work without interruption two afternoons a week. Dussel looked very sullen, didn’t speak to me for two days and made sure he occupied the table from five to five-thirty – all very childish, of course.
Anyone who’s so petty and pedantic at the age of fifty-four was born that way and is never going to change.
Tuesday, 13 July 1943
MRS VAN DAAN, DUSSEL and I were doing the washing-up, and I was extremely quiet. This is very unusual for me, and they were sure to notice. So, in order to avoid any questions, I quickly racked my brains for a neutral topic. I thought the book Henry from Across the Street might fit the bill, but I couldn’t have been more wrong. If Mrs van D. doesn’t jump down my throat, Mr Dussel does. It all boiled down to this: Mr Dussel had recommended the book to Margot and me as an example of excellent writing. We thought it was anything but that. The little boy had been portrayed well, but as for the rest…the less said the better. I mentioned something to that effect while we were washing-up, but my goodness…Dussel launched into a tirade.
‘How can you possibly understand the inner life of a man? Of course you can follow that of a child [!]. But you’re far too young to read a book like that. Even a twenty-year-old man would be unable to comprehend it.’ (So why did he go out of his way to recommend it to Margot and me?)
Mrs van D. and Dussel continued their harangue: ‘You know far too much about things you’re not supposed to. You’ve been brought up all wrong. Later on, when you’re older, you won’t be able to enjoy anything any more. You’ll say, “Oh, I read that twenty years ago in some book.” You’d better hurry if you want to catch a husband or fall in love, since everything is bound to be a disappointment to you. [Get ready – here comes the best part.] You already know all there is to know in theory. But in practice? That’s another story!’
Can you imagine how I felt? I astonished myself by calmly replying, ‘You may think I haven’t been raised properly, but many people would disagree!’
They apparently believe that good child-rearing includes trying to pit me against my parents, since that’s all they ever do. And not telling a girl my age about grown-up subjects is fine. We can all see what happens when people are raised that way.
At that moment I could have killed them both for poking fun at me. I was beside myself with rage, and counting the days until we no longer have to put up with each other’s company.
Mrs van D.’s a fine one to talk! She sets an example all right – a bad one. She’s known to be exceedingly pushy, empty-headed and perpetually dissatisfied. Add to that vanity and coquettishness and there’s no question about it: she has a thoroughly despicable character. I could write an entire book about Madame van Daan, and who knows, maybe some time I will. Deep down inside, she doesn’t seem to have even one good trait.
1 comment