Today’s review is a bit of a throwback. I read The Diary of a Young Girl by Anne Frank back in January of this year, but since I’m lazy, you’re finally hearing about it now.
I actually felt like I didn’t get as much out of this one as I should have. I felt like it should have resonated with me deeper; stirred me more. It didn’t.
That’s not to say, though, that it didn’t impact me or it didn’t sober me. There is a lot of responsibility to never let something like the Holocaust ever happen again; even a semblance of it. And I don’t take that lightly.
I just didn’t feel as impacted by The Diary of a Young Girl as much as I had expected I would be. And that’s fine. I was still touched, and it was still worth reading. Even if it didn’t feel like it at times.
Confused? I am too.
Let me try to clear my thoughts up for you in a proper review.