Jo is a child who was forced to grow up too fast. She has developed a shell of sarcasm. When she speaks about her loneliness, she doesn’t cry—she jokes . She intellectualizes her pain. She is a sixth-form student who has read too many romantic novels and is now watching her life fall apart with a cold, analytical eye.
Jo is a 17-year-old living in a dank, cramped flat in post-war Salford, England. Her mother, Helen—a boozy, superficial former prostitute—has just married a wealthy, older man named Peter. To secure her own comfort, Helen has decided to leave Jo behind. To make matters worse, Jo’s lover, a Black sailor named Jimmie who got her pregnant, has sailed away and is presumed lost. Jo is now alone, heavily pregnant, abandoned by her mother and her lover. The only person who stands by her is her gay, art-school friend, Geoffrey. a taste of honey monologue new
For decades, the play’s most famous excerpt—Jo’s monologue in the final act—has been a rite of passage for young actresses. But too often, it is performed as a flat cry of despair. To find a interpretation of the monologue, we must strip away the dusty reverence of "classic drama" and rediscover the punk-rock, improvisational, and heartbreakingly modern voice that Delaney captured. Jo is a child who was forced to grow up too fast
A monologue performance of this text does not leave the audience crying. It leaves them angry. It leaves them inspired. It leaves them leaning forward and whispering, "What is she going to do next?" She intellectualizes her pain
When Jo talks about the empty room, avoid pathos. Look at the objects in the imaginary room with contempt. The emptiness isn't sad; it's a relief. Her mother’s mess is gone. Her lover’s smell is gone. She should deliver lines like, "It's quiet, isn't it?" with a strange, unsettling calm, like a bomb disposal expert examining a ticking device.