I loved Anne Frank’s diary, and I was thrilled to be able to visit her house. But from the first time I read her book, I have wondered uncomfortably if she would have approved of her innermost thoughts becoming so very public.
Today, Mother Teresa has been much in the news. I heard a discussion of her thoughts about her dark times, written in private letters she had, apparently, never wanted to be made public. What a disgusting violation, that her express wishes were ignored. Was it by the recipient of the letters, or the Church in their quest to fund a modern and popular Saint, or members of the media, or someone else she trusted? It seems to me to be the ultimate betrayal, yet one that, in the circumstances of a public or historic figure, is universally ignored and excused, as we – like vultures – pick over their most private thoughts shared with a trusted confidante. Does our privacy end with our death?