I have an appalling confession to make. I thought myself pretty aware of Anne Frank’s life, having skimmed her diary many years ago and watched umpteen documentaries and films based on her experience as a Jew in hiding during the Holocaust. However, I thought with all my heart that she spent the war years hiding from the Nazi's in Germany. So while wandering around Amsterdam I was slightly surprised to see a sign reading (in Dutch of course) ‘The House of Anne Frank.’
I followed the route really just expecting some small memorial to the Frank family outside the house, but as soon as I realised the slender townhouse I was looking at also doubled as a museum I had to have a look around.
Upon arrival I paid my €9 admission and was given a rather large pamphlet containing general information on the house itself, plus tips to get the most from my visit. The pamphlet is definitely a ‘one size fits all’ affair, being printed in 7 or 8 different languages, but it’s worth having as there are exhibits and news broadcasts (shown on televisions) which aren’t particularly well labelled and the brief explanations in the leaflet helped me to understand better the life of a thirteen year old girl back in 1943.
I visited the Belsen Memorial Site a few years ago with my dad and remember the dark, oppressive feeling the former concentration camp gave me. I was expecting a similar sensation as I approached the first room in Anne Frank’s house but this museum has an altogether lighter feel. The museum pieces are basically located around the house in glass fronted cabinets and aren’t all related directly to Anne Frank. For example, one of the first items I noticed was the horrific yet innocent looking threadbare yellow star which Jews were forced to wear during the Holocaust. I expected the star to belong to Anne or a member of her party but it’s an anonymous piece donated to the museum collection from a survivor.
I simply can’t go through absolutely everything you’ll see in the house. I spent around two hours looking at the various exhibits but as most of the collection is paper based, excerpts from the diary and photographs make up the bulk of the museum; my descriptions won’t even begin to touch on the personal detail of life in war-time Amsterdam.
Otto Frank (Anne’s father) survived the concentration camp and devoted the latter part of his life to collecting original letters and documents written by Anne, Margot, their mother and the other people who hid with them in the annexe. These have been displayed to good effect in the museum, with a small tartan autograph book taking pride of place – it’s in this book that Anne first wrote her diary and when the realisation of what you’re looking at hits, you’ll be rocked by the innocence this simple item seems to project.
Walking through the door into the secret annexe where Anne, her family and their friends lived until their capture in August 1944 is sobering. There’s a definite change in the air as you stand inside these small living quarters, it certainly felt cooler than the rest of the house and even with the door open seemed shut off from the world.
I could imagine the fear and (oddly) the boredom as day turned into weeks, turned into years for the inhabitants
Walking around the house is a bit of a tight affair as the original stair cases and doorways are still there, and the house itself is narrow. This means there’s a strict route to follow which will take in the entire collection from beginning to end, and if you dare to deviate from this pre designated route expect a gruff voiced Dutchman to herd you back into line! It’s a pretty good system considering the amount of people who visit the house daily, although it does give the house a conveyor belt feeling as if you stop for too long to look at a particular exhibit you can literally feel the queue of people behind getting longer. It also means that it’s not viable to take pushchairs or wheelchairs into the house – and this isn’t a human rights offence, there simply isn’t room for anything bulkier than the average standing person!
The one thing which I found odd in a way about the house was the fact that all the furniture has gone. I don’t mean I think it’s odd that the curators of the museum have (correctly) decided that if the displays and the furniture are all in this narrow house there won’t be room for visitors, rather the lack of human comforts and belongings give the house an oddly desolate atmosphere. I knew I was in a house because I was in ‘Anne Franks House’ but it was easy to forget that a group of people had their survival instincts tested to the full here many years ago.
How can I sum this ‘attraction’ up? I had butterflies as we queued to go in, anticipating some kind of emotional reaction to be in the place where the young girl whose face we all know so well struggled to grow up in such a strange and enclosed environment. While I felt a sense of sympathy as I made my way around the house, I can’t really say I felt any kind of empathy with the people the museum is dedicated to. It was interesting to read through the many documents, and the television section brings a bit of much needed background to the Anne Frank story making good use of not very hi-tech technology. To be completely honest, I found parts of the display boring and lacking in any imagination. I don’t expect flashing lights and slot machines at what is, in essence, a memorial site but the way documents are laid out in such a businesslike manner made me feel I was browsing the town hall records.
I enjoyed the visit, if enjoyed is an appropriate word for such a depressing tragedy, and I’m glad we found The House of Anne Frank. Our hotel was literally a ten minute walk from the museum, but it’s easily found by taking one of a number of trams from Central Station and following the signs to Prinsengracht 267 – or easier again, take one of the cheap cabs you find all over Amsterdam and you won’t have to worry about navigating confusing Amsterdam streets! Another thing worth mentioning is the fact that the house has limited opening times during the winter, I say limited because while researching this review I found that the museum doesn’t open this year until 15th March when we in fact visited in January!
One other thing which I think is worth a mention is the gift shop. Here you can buy 24 different translations of ‘The Diary of a Young Girl’, Anne Franks now famous wartime diary. I bought an English copy after my error in the girl’s nationality and I now intend to read up on this young heroine, because hers really is a story which should not be forgotten.
*The issue of Anne Franks nationality is a problematic one. Anne and her family were German refugees, although her father did apply for (and receive) Dutch nationality after World War 2.*
A war in the life of... 
