How I Learned to Drive

by Paula Vogel

The 1950s pop music accompanying Li'l Bit's excursion down memory lane cannot drown out the ghosts of her past. Sweet recollections of driving with her beloved uncle intermingle with lessons about the darker sides of life. Balmy evenings are fraught with danger; seductions happen anywhere. Li'l Bit navigates a narrow path between the demands of family and her own sense of right and wrong.

Genres: Plays, Drama, Theatre, Fiction, School, College, Classics

58 pages, Paperback

First published October 1, 1997

About the author

Paula Vogel is an American playwright and university professor. She received the 1998 Pulitzer Prize for Drama for her play, How I Learned to Drive.

Vogel was born in Washington, D.C. to Donald Stephen Vogel, an advertising executive, and Phyllis Rita Bremerman, a secretary for United States Postal Service Training and Development Center. She is a graduate of The Catholic University of America (1974, B.A.) and Cornell University (1976, M.A.). Vogel also attended Bryn Mawr College from 1969 to 1970 and 1971 to 1972.

A productive playwright since the late 1970s, Vogel first came to national prominence with her AIDS-related seriocomedy The Baltimore Waltz, which won the Obie award for Best Play in 1992. She is best known for her Pulitzer Prize-winning play How I Learned To Drive (1997), which examines the impact and echoes of child sexual abuse and incest. Other notable plays include Desdemona, A Play About A Handkerchief (1979); The Oldest Profession (1981); And Baby Makes Seven (1984); Hot 'N Throbbing (1994); and The Mineola Twins (1996).

Although no particular theme or topic dominates her work, she often examines traditionally controversial issues such as sexual abuse and prostitution. Asserting that she "writes the play backwards," moving from emotional circumstances and character to craft narrative structure, Vogel says, "My writing isn't actually guided by issues.... I only write about things that directly impact my life." Vogel adds, "If people get upset, it's because the play is working." Vogel's family, especially her late brother Carl Vogel, influences her writings. Vogel says, "In every play, there are a couple of places where I send a message to my late brother Carl. Just a little something in the atmosphere of every play to try and change the homophobia in our world." Carl's likeness appears in such plays as The Long Christmas Ride Home (2003), The Baltimore Waltz, and And Baby Makes Seven.

"Vogel tends to select sensitive, difficult, fraught issues to theatricalize," theatre theorist Jill Dolan comments, "and to spin them with a dramaturgy that’s at once creative, highly imaginative, and brutally honest."[3] Her work embraces theatrical devices from across several traditions, incorporating, in various works, direct address, bunraku puppetry, omniscient narration, and fantasy sequences. Critic David Finkel finds this breadth in Vogel's career to be reflective of a general tendency toward stylistic reinvention from work to work. "This playwright recoils at the notion of writing plays that are alike in their composition," Finkel writes. "She wants each play to be different in texture from those that have preceded it."

Vogel, a renowned teacher of playwriting, counts among her former students Susan Smith Blackburn Prize-winner Bridget Carpenter, Obie Award-winner Adam Bock, MacArthur Fellow Sarah Ruhl, and Pulitzer Prize-winners Nilo Cruz and Lynn Nottage.

During her two decades leading the graduate playwriting program and new play festival at Brown University, Vogel helped developed a nationally-recognized center for educational theatre, culminating in the creation of the Brown/Trinity Repertory Company Consortium with Oskar Eustis, then Trinity's artistic director, in 2002. She left Brown in 2008 to assume her current posts as adjunct professor and the Chair of the playwriting department at Yale School of Drama, and the Playwright-in-Residence at Yale Repertory Theatre. Vogel previously served as an instructor at Cornell University during her graduate work in the mid-1970s.

Recently Second Stage Theatre announced that they would be producing How I Learned To Drive as a part of their 2011-2012 season. It will be the first New York City production of this show in 15 years.

Subsequent to her Obie Award for Best Play (1992) and Pulitzer Prize in Drama (1998), Vogel received the Award for Literature from The American Academy of Arts and Letters in 2004.

She won the 1998 Susan Smith Blackburn P

Reviews

[Brina · Rating 4 out of 5]

An ongoing personal project of mine is reading the books featured in 500 Great Books By Women by Erica Bauermeister. These range anywhere from 13th century trailblazing classics to modern classics novels and nonfiction. Looking to finish my year with a round number of books read, I selected Paula Vogel's Pulitzer winning drama How I Learned to Drive, a play with a double meaning that focuses on the difficult subject of sexual abuse and molestation. While I was disturbed while reading through this script, I found Vogel's work to be a worthy read.

It is the late 1960s in rural Maryland. Three generations of a family live on a farming compound far removed from any other people. Rumor has it that members of this family receive their nicknames for their sexual prowess or genitalia rather than for a moniker or characteristic. As this is pointed out in the script's opening pages, it lead to a disturbing feeling from the onset. Vogel focuses on teenaged Lil' Bit through various stages of her life. A seventeen year old who has grown up with her grandparents, mother, aunt, and lewd uncle, she is determined to break out of the family's mold and be the first to attend college. Vogel hints that she has received a scholarship to go to either an Ivy League or top woman's school; the family should be proud of her, but in their ignorance, they remain indifferent. Consequently, Lil' Bit is pining to leave her insular home.

Employing a Greek chorus to show both flashbacks and later stages of Lil' Bit's life, Vogel shows how sexual molestation she was subject to as a child affected her throughout her life. The chorus is accompanied by popular 1950s and 1960s music but as I read rather than watched the play, the music had little effect on me. What did have a profound effect on me was the inappropriate relationship between Lil' Bit and her pedophile uncle Peck and the inability of Lil' Bit's mother or aunt (Peck's wife) to stop it. Lil' Bit's father was no where to be found in her life, and she grew up without a father figure in her life, besides for Peck. From the time she reached prepubescence, he cast his leery eyes at her. Her mother must have known, but, seeing that her daughter needed a replacement father, did nothing, making me sick. Vogel points that an innuendo episode from when Lil' Bit turned eleven essentially ended her ownership of her body. While this was meant to draw attention to pedophilia, it still made this script difficult to read; especially as this inappropriateness was happening to a younger girl. And yet, I read on to the conclusion.

Lil' Bit ages and Peck is determined to teach her how to 'drive.' Having no sons of his own, he says it gives him pleasure to teach his niece how to operate a motor vehicle. Unfortunately, he would like to teach her more than how to drive a car, but also how to control her body. Now that Lil' Bit has moved past puberty, Peck desires her all the more. On these driving sessions, he puts his hand down her shirt and inside her underwear, and she is powerless to stop it. On the contrary, as her body matures, she desires these advances to a certain extent, even though she inherently knows that they are wrong. I hoped and prayed that Vogel would allow Lil' Bit to have some ownership over her body as she has hinted that she is a smart student, leaving for college soon. Yet, book smarts do not always translate to street smarts, and Vogel paints a fine line between the two. Consequently, I awaited the scene where Lil' Bit finally leaves home and finds herself out of Peck's clutches, hopefully realizing how inappropriate his behavior toward her was when she enters into the company of less insular adults.

Vogel's drama won the Pulitzer, but she has written many other feminist leaning plays over the course of her career as well. While How I Learned to Drive may have been one of the most difficult reads that I have read this year, I found this play necessary as pedophilia is unfortunately an issue that is never going to go away. Having daughters at home, I found this play even more disturbing as Lil' Bit was abused from the time she was eleven or possibly younger. I would hope that this play is taught in some form, even if it is excerpts, in high school English classes, so that girls would have guidance in avoiding pedophiles. That being said, this play is not for the weak hearted but is a necessary read in terms of being informed.

4 plus stars

[Caroline · Rating 1 out of 5]

This play by Paula Vogel won the Pulitzer in 1998, yet before seeing How I Learned to Drive on the Pulitzer list, I’d never heard of it. After reading I can see why. This tells a bleak story about a man's molestation of his niece (who's nicknamed "Li'l Bit"). Structurally, Vogel used an unnecessary metaphor of learning to drive a car to add complexity to scenes of grooming and molestation. Three Greek choruses play various secondary characters, such as the mother, grandmother, and aunt. I found the metaphor try-hard and distracting and the use of Greek choruses instead of dedicated roles pretentious. My guess is that these things, along with the topic itself, impressed the Pulitzer judges, though.

Mainly, I'm flabbergasted by Vogel's decision to write this as a play instead of as a novel. Obviously, the biggest drawback for a play depicting molestation is that it...depicts molestation. Actors could be forgiven for feeling uncomfortable performing such scenes on stage. Story-wise, the emotion that naturally accompanies such subject matter can't be explored as thoroughly as it could be in a novel. This is made worse by the play's short length, only 58 pages. Every scene is brief and undeveloped, basically flashes showing Li'l Bit conversing with her manipulative uncle or being abused by him but in a matter-of-fact, stiff way. Vogel may have made Li'l Bit this way on purpose, to show dissociation, but because this is a dramatization, some emotion needs to come across. An audience, or readers, can't be expected to feel much heartbreak for a main character who's a robot.

How I Learned to Drive doesn't make a larger statement about the long-term devastation of sexual abuse, so the scenes come across as only voyeuristic and repulsive. It's a weird and major downer of a play, not exactly a crowd-pleaser. I wouldn't be surprised if this, plus actors' discomfort with scenes and the possibility of triggering audience members, is why it's not a popular choice for performance.

[Chelsea · Rating 2 out of 5]

I took a break from my current reading to read the play How I Learned to Drive by Paula Vogel. It's a short play that chronicles the relationship between a girl and her uncle and her coming of age.

I don't particularly care for the "Greek chorus" performing all the characters besides Lil'bit and Uncle Peck; I feel that in performance this would be akward and confusing. Honestly, I felt it to be a bit of useless obfuscation anyway, since these chorus members are almost always the same character each time they appear. In performance I would eliminate this layer of abstraction and cast actors for each of the principle individual roles.

Initially I was a bit turned off by the spoken 'titles' that divide the play, but I feel that, done well, they would help facilitate the transitions between scenes.

Otherwise, I liked the play. It was about the right length, with about the right amount of character development. If anything, I would have liked to have known a little more about Lil'bit, but I can't think of a good way to do that, so I certainly can't hold it against Ms. Vogel.

[amanda jane · Rating 5 out of 5]

i was in this play in college.
it says a lot about family, memory, loyalty, and love--in kosher and not so kosher ways.

paula vogel is a goddess.

[Aaron · Rating 4 out of 5]

From a viewpoint of plot and story content, “How I Learned To Drive” is tragically disturbing. Vogel does not, thank goodness, run with this piece in the way of an expository PSA. Good theatre never does this, and Vogel obviously creates excellent drama. Instead, she proceeds to set a tone of normality as the plot unfolds.

Three things stuck out to me about this play:

1)This play could be ruined literally at any moment by portraying Peck as too much of a creeper; no doubt about it, from the opening scene he obviously has some issues and they are obviously repulsive. Yet throughout the play there are moments of humanity breathed into the character; at moments he is smart and polite, and the whole business of something happening during the war makes him a bit sympathetic. I doubt the intent of the play is to portray a sad story of a man who is simply confused, but neither do I think we are supposed to have the conviction of his wife as to his moral character. This is the case with Lil Bit as well, she is not guilty but not altogether innocent, though she is far less in the wrong than Peck.

2)The stage directions are quite extensive and precise. I suppose this is necessary to a show that contains a large number of roles play by a chorus. It’s not really a good or bad thing, just something that not too many writers do in my play reading experience (consequently, this sort of style can be found in Sarah Ruhl’s play “Dead Man’s Cell Phone”; Ruhl was a pupil of Vogel at Brown). These directions did help explain the multiple roles and time shifts, which may or may not be as effective in production.

3)The jumps in time flowed almost too well at the beginning of the play, and the first few went unnoticed. By about the 3rd or 4th time shift I realized what was going on, and that the shifts were not contiguously linear throughout the play. In a way, I think breaking up the periods prevents the piece from becoming exclusively about the evilness of Peck. Near the end of the play, Pecks obsession becomes clear in the sending of the gifts. Maybe it’s just me, but I felt this was very powerful; one almost gets the sense that departing for college will mean the end of Peck and Li’l Bit, but of course leaving things at that would be no fun.

Overall, a well-done play. Effectively vulgar at times and poignant at crucial moments, this play draws the reader in. The one complaint I’d have is that it takes a bit (a li’l bit, if you will) getting into. Even after the initial shock of “Oh, they’re related!” the story was not terribly striking from the start. After a couple of rapid shifts of scene, the characters begin to develop and one becomes more interested in the relationship between Peck and Li’l Bit.

[Doug · Rating 3 out of 5]

I know I read this 20+ years ago when it won the Pulitzer, but have no memory of such, but now that it is being revived in the #MeToo era on Broadway (with the original cast of Mary-Louise Parker and David Morse, no less), I wanted to revisit it and see if it holds up. Sadly, I don't think the play retains the shock value it had back then, and it is very clumsy and clunky in parts (particularly with the use of the Greek Chorus). It'll be interesting to see how well it does in today's climate.

[Jon Zelazny · Rating 4 out of 5]

I'll withhold final judgment until I actually see a production, as it's one of the "busier" scripts I've read, particularly the three Greek Chorus members jumping in and out as lesser characters, while the omniscient Driving Instructor struck me as a device too far.

The main issue, the relentless sexual harassment of a small town teenage girl, by her family members, plus assorted high school dweebs, is probably not everyone's idea of a great night at the theater. And much as I love daring material-- having appeared in a regional production of Rabe's HURLYBURLY (!)-- if this had me squirming in discomfort, how did general audiences enjoy it?

The amount of abuse Li'l Bit suffers seemed almost exaggerated, until I saw my Goodreads friend Julie G.'s comment thread on the poetry volume EMBOUCHURE, where she and her friends shared comparable experiences dealing with unwanted male attention.

Now I'm just, like, horrified. Hope my 11-year-old daughter enjoyed her previous experiences in the wider world, because I'm sure as hell not letting her go out there again.

[Sof · Rating 5 out of 5]

Devastating, incisive, illuminated. So good. This is why I love theatre, why I love playwriting - because work like this exists. It's this constellation of little hurts, of the scars that accumulate from trauma, how it wrecks us and confuses our softness, makes us question ourselves and the world around us. Wowza. Read this play.

[Georgia · Rating 5 out of 5]

Kicking myself for not seeing the 2022 bway run. What a script. Wow. My heart was at the bottom of my stomach for a good 1/3 of it but it was broken up by moments of outrageous humor.

[Sheri · Rating 5 out of 5]

I read this today because I am auditioning for the show this evening. I sort of stumbled upon it and was very much pleasantly surprised. It is funny and believable and yet sad and poignant.

[Abhishek Basak · Rating 4 out of 5]

4.5/5. What amazing use of driving as a metaphor. So layered and intricate! Especially love the way it was woven into the play both structurally and thematically.

[Claire · Rating 2 out of 5]

where do I begin with this? maybe with the good? the very, very little good.

it's fascinating for what it is: experimental theater. the only two characters that are always themselves are the protagonists lil' bit and uncle peck (the prey and her predator, and later vice versa) with the remaining ensemble playing everyone and anyone--mother, grandmother, grandfather, teenage boy, teenage girls, cousin bb, etc. the dialogue is bittersweet and creepy when necessary, and her stage direction is marvelous in detail. she has crafted a non-linear timeline that makes the play particularly special yet doesn't ever go too far out of the audience/reader's reach, meaning the play is rarely ever confusing, and almost always uncomfortably realistic. for all its spectacular execution, though, the story and its supposed "moral" is outrageously disturbing.

this is a story about at least three generations of child molestation, and at least three generations of prey becoming predator. a horrific concept and horrific ending, but what's even worse is the so-called "critical analysis" I read in my drama textbook following it. I'm not sure how anyone can see the character of uncle peck as anything but a pedophile, but for some reason most do. the essays are full of so many excuses; he's a wwii veteran, so he must have undiagnosed ptsd; he has a slight drinking problem, so he can't think straight when he's drunk; he doesn't have any children of his own and/or he's stuck in a failing marriage, so he's trying to be a proper father/husband in any way he can; which are all complete bs. he's a pedophile and a child molester, and I could care less about his personal demons because not only does he effectively ruin this young woman's life by subjecting her to sexual molestation for years in the guise of teaching her how to drive (with the occasional life lesson, too, like the ultra-ironic "stay away from pervy boys"), but by emotionally manipulating and ultimately terrorizing her into subordination and alcoholism.

the play does end with lil' bit severing ties with him once and for all, but the final scene is all too chilling. after turning 18, she invites uncle peck to a hotel room with the intention of "finally" sleeping with him, gets drunk off of the champagne he bought without her consent (as he drinks a ginger ale, no less), and almost succumbs before rejecting his damn marriage proposal. in an epilogue she recites to us the audience, we find out that uncle peck spent the next seven years of his life drinking alone and ultimately fell down the stairs to his death a few feet away from the basement dark room where he took naked pictures of lil' bit at the age of 13. lil' bit, on the other hand, is in her 30s and also alone--apart from the high school student she has a one night stand with, of course--and spends most of her time drinking whatever's available and driving nowhere. when she gets in the car (bought by her uncle) at the very end of the play, she sees "uncle peck's spirit" in the backseat of her car, and after they smile at each other, the stage directions state "they are happy to be on a long ride together". does that not make you sick to your stomach?

what could have been a fable about sticking it to childhood trauma and the importance of moving up and on from bad experiences becomes a terrifying example of when a young woman more innocent than guilty surrenders to the pressures and fears instilled in her by the adults who abused her so badly, and unfortunately begins the cycle anew. if vogel's intention was to bring up the faults of inherited sexual manipulation between men and women and family, a problem I do not disbelieve, she could have--and should have--chosen a story not as distressing as this, like lil' bit's parents' and grandparents', for example, because even though they all have their fair share of horror stories, at least they're all consenting adults now. and I feel like I cannot spend any time thinking about these "deeper meanings" or "thoughtful social protests" because all I can fixate on is the exceedingly unhealthy plot.

the more I consider this play, the worse it becomes. please omit this from the next edition of the bedford introduction to drama, thank you.

[Vincent Scarpa · Rating 5 out of 5]

“Li’l Bit: I felt his interest ‘quicken.’ Five steps ahead of the hopes in his head, I slowed down, waited, pretended surprised, acted at listening, all the while knowing we would get off the bus, he would just then seem to think to ask me to dinner, he would chivalrously insist on walking me home, he would continue to converse in the street until I would casually invite him up to my room — and — I was only into the second moment of conversation and I could see the whole evening before me. And dramaturgically speaking, after the faltering and the slightly comical ‘first act,’ there was the very briefest of intermissions, and an extremely capable and forceful and sustained second act. And after the second act climax and a gentle denouement — before the post-play discussion — I lay on my back in the dark and I thought about you, Uncle Peck. Oh. Oh — this is the allure. Being older. Being the first. Being the translator, the teacher, the epicure, the already jaded. This is how the giver gets taken.”

[Drew · Rating 5 out of 5]

Poetic, heart wrenching, and complicated. These are the three best words I could find to describe this play. The way it moves is so fluid and powerful and every word and scene has a direct purpose and a direct link to one another. Peck and Li’l Bit are awesome characters, the use of the three choruses is simply fabulous. The subject matter is difficult to read, but it’s like a train wreck; you have to watch it happen, you have to listen for the crash. My only complaint is the ending speeds by so quickly it feels like I have a bit of whiplash, but the rest of the play stands up so well I suppose I can excuse it.

[leah hohauser · Rating 5 out of 5]

Oh gosh. This one feels too complex/upsetting/tender to even describe. This moved me a lot in many directions. I feel sick, confused, angry, heartbroken, tender.

[Kelsey · Rating 3 out of 5]

I haven't seen this play acted out, but I think that I wouldn't want to, because the subject matter for me is very uncomfortable. I thought the play was written very well, and I did somewhat enjoy it, but it was also, weird, and awkward.

What I enjoyed most about the play was the little clues throughout it that the uncle was not the nice guy he seemed to be, like the scene with the little boy when they went fishing. I also liked the dialogue, because it was witty and funny.

What I didn't like about the play was the Greek chorus, which I thought was kind of confusing and stuffed in there awkwardly. To me, it didn't really make sense. I also didn't like that none of the characters had a real arc. No one learned from their mistakes, and that leads me to believe that maybe the characters thought that the relationship between an uncle and his niece weren't a mistake, which is baffling to me.

What bothered me most about this play was the fact that it didn't seem to have a point to it. The main character, Lil Bit, talks about her memories and experiences with her uncle, and then going off to college and trying to get over the relationship, but in the end, nothing is resolved. The story doesn't go anywhere. No one learns anything. It's just a girl telling the audience of the relationship she once had with her uncle, and that's it.

I'm giving this three stars because I thought it was written very well and I didn't hate it, but I didn't really like it that much, and I probably wouldn't read it again, or see it as an actual play. It's just too awkward and sexual for me.

[Lori · Rating 4 out of 5]

On the surface the story seems like a romance between a girl and a guy. But when it’s discovered that it is a story of a 13 yr old and her 40+ year old uncle who keeps seeking her out on her own, the story takes on a very disturbing turn for me. Overall, the story is written with humor and sensitivity - so much so that it almost makes it seem ok for the uncle and niece to do what they did (yikes!).

The metaphor of learning to drive as a way to navigate through the twists and turns that life has to offer was done very well. I would have liked to have read more about how her relationship with Peck affected Lil Bit as she grew up.

[H · Rating 4 out of 5]

good lord. it’s been way too long since i’ve read a play. i’m a poet by trade but man, a well-written play is among the most exquisite things. the reveal of information. what’s explicit vs. implication. this is a difficult read but tremendously well-made

[Grace · Rating 1 out of 5]

NO.

[Illiterate · Rating 3 out of 5]

A chilling portrait of sexual abuse.

[Brad · Rating 4 out of 5]

Despite years of teaching, acting and directing, there remain several gaps in my familiarity with plays. Sometimes there are plays from a playwright I know intimately that I simply refuse to read (out of fear or disinterest), sometimes there are eras of plays I don't know because knowing every era of theatre in depth is almost impossible, and sometimes there are playwrights I just haven't been exposed to -- even though I probably should have been.

Paula Vogel falls into that latter category. I should know about her, but I don't, so when I was sifting through L.A. Theatreworks titles to buy on audible (because I do love listening to a staging of a play if I can't see it live) her name meant nothing to me. What did speak to me was the seemingly playful title -- How I Learned to Drive -- coupled with the cover art that included the insanely talented (and often hilarious) Glenne Headly looking passionate next to a smilingly handsome character actor, Randall Arney, looking vanilla and innocuous. It seemed like a light and fluffy play for a sleepless night. I bought it, and it sat for a while.

I listened to it last night. "Don't judge a book by its cover!" has been beating me over the head ever since. How I Learned to Drive was brilliant, but disturbingly so. Headly was heartbreaking and superb; Arney was tragic, sympathetic and horrible all at once.

How I Learned to Drive is not light, not funny, not for the feint of heart (trigger warning: sexual abuse & PTSD), but it will stick with me for a long time (probably forever). And I will now dig much deeper into the work of Paula Vogel. If How I Learned to Drive is any indication, her body of work must be impressive.

[Theo Chen · Rating 4 out of 5]

Beautiful and evocative.

[Julie H. Ernstein · Rating 4 out of 5]

Vogel's How I Learned to Drive deals with some really tough topics, including incest, with equal parts humor and sensitivity. As a native Marylander, Vogel's insertion of placenames--including that of my junior high school (Go FSK Raiders!)--was a welcome addition. The overarching use of metaphor (i.e., learning to drive as a metapor for learning how to negotiate the world) is positively brilliant! I hope to get to see this play staged, as I know that the tremendous power and impact of the words could easily be undermined by too realistic a dramatization of particular scenes. (I suppose that's why we see live performances and don't just read plays, isn't it?)

[Lauren · Rating 4 out of 5]

Winner of the 1998 Pulitzer Prize, How I Learned to Drive is a story about incest, a heavy topic made darkly comedic by Ms. Vogel’s unique manner in telling the tale. The play is unflinching but not uncomfortable, tackling the subject head on while avoiding sensationalizing it. It was interesting to contrast this with Edward Albee’s The Play About the Baby, which features nudity that seemed included solely to titillate and scandalize. By not exploiting her characters, Ms. Vogel more deeply delved into the emotional and mental complexities of incest, resulting in a more fulfilling and disturbing – for this reader anyway – play. Sometimes less really is more. Recommended.

[Anna Muthalaly · Rating 4 out of 5]

I read on a recommendation while attempting to write my own play on childhood sexuality in the South. Finished within the hour, this play speaks directly to themes I find in few other places. Vogel herself says she was influenced by Lolita, and I see that clearly— not within the pedophillia, but within the confusion, the uncertainty. What is consent within power? What is consent to a girl taught to want it? What is abuse from a man abused? The play is legitimately funny and truly clever. Pulitzer Prize winner for drama, and absolutely worth the read, though I acknowledge my bias given this is my field of study.

[CheyAnne · Rating 5 out of 5]

How I Learned to Drive is a play about a young girl growing up with a secret. No one knows this secret except her uncle. The secret is that her uncle is crazy in love with his niece. It's well written and very witty. This young girl's family is absolutely crazy and their dialogue is written in greek chorus style. There are small sililoquies throughout the entire play spoken by different members of the family. Laugh out loud funny! It drives the audience or reader to feel slightly uncomfortable and that is exactly what theater should do.

[Leylamaría · Rating 4 out of 5]

“Sometimes I think of my uncle as a kind of Flying Dutchman. In the opera, the Dutchman is doomed to wander the sea; but every seven years he can come ashore, and if he finds a maiden who will love him of her own free will—he will be released.
And I see Uncle Peck in my mind, in his Chevy ’56, a spirit driving up and down the back roads of Carolina—looking for a young girl who, of her own free will, will love him. Release him.”

[Vickie Treulieb · Rating 5 out of 5]

Very powerful account of a girl who was molested by her uncle. The memories are funny sometimes and then they're deeply dark at other times. Some parts of the script are weak and need development. They come across as afterthoughts. However, the two lead characters have a strong development and make for a great read.

[Katrina · Rating 5 out of 5]

It has taken me a while to figure out what to say about this play, and I'm still not quite sure where to begin. Vogel is touching on an incredible and difficult subject and she does it with an interesting kind of grace. This play will always be with me, it will have an effect on the way I write and think about abuse and my own history. What more could an artist do, really?

[Elahe · Rating 4 out of 5]

از لحاظ فرمی تتوع زیادی به خرج میده غیرخطی و اپیزودیکه، چندلایه‌ست و چیزای زیادی هست که‌ توجهتو جلب کنه تا بهشون فکر کنی. تنیدگی نقش‌های همسرایان با رفت و برگشت غیرخطی ممکنه تلاش برای فهم روایتو سخت کنه، در حالی که‌ خود موضوع به تنهایی آزاردهنده‌ و سخت‌بین‌ه. آها و خیلی یاد ثمینی افتادم به خاطر بازی‌های فرمی و احتمالا‌ بعضی تم‌هاش... مدام حس می‌کردم این می‌تونست از قلم ثمینی اومده‌ باشه.