I am not very fond of one-man plays. Or one-woman, one-trained-seal, one-anything plays…. Generally speaking, there is something demoralizing about going to theatrical solos—like being invited to dine off paper plates.

There are, however, exceptions: if the performer is great, the material is marvelous, or the situation, though dramatic, calls for a monologue—say, the story of Jonah. A little of all three of these conditions obtains in Orgasmo Adulto Escapes From the Zoo….

[These] eight plays are definitely not Communist propaganda; they are feminist propaganda. They are monologues for women…. There are three incidental male roles, but they are non-speaking, because the men are dumb in every sense, as well as deaf to reason. (p. 42)

Contrasto for a Solo Voice is about a peasant lass who contrives, for one night at any rate, to take (I am using a euphemism; the plays revel in obscenity and...