OK, enough reflection. The Washington Post (“Nothing but the Truth,” by David Segal) offers an account of Albert’s testimony that includes a few choice quotes and some details I haven’t read before.
On the difference between memoir and fiction, Albert says:
“I don’t believe in fiction, and I don’t believe in autobiography,” she said. “It’s all coming through the filter of your being. I don’t believe in any of these labels.”
Tell that to Oprah. Meanwhile, Segal takes a snapshot:
In and out of court, she comes across as both shy and shamelessly exhibitionistic. Her face has that strangely spackled, smoothed-out look that Michael Jackson has, and when she walks outside she puts on buglike sunglasses that scream both “Look at me” and “Don’t look at me.” When the paparazzi approached Tuesday, they expected her to bolt, movie-star style. Instead, she chatted and posed, albeit demurely. (“Don’t shoot from down low,” she pleaded with a smile, “it looks horrible!”) She bonded with one photographer over their weight problems as kids, and when she left him she gave him a soulful hug.
During direct examination Wednesday, Albert often punctuated her narrative with a grippingly odd cackle-cry — a mix of laughter and agony — that froze everyone within earshot.
Has JT Leroy retired? Doesn’t sound like it:
That vow aside, we might not have seen the last of Laura Albert’s unforgettable imaginary friend. Asked on the stand if a work in progress titled “Labour” will be written by JT Leroy or Laura Albert, she whispered, “I don’t know.”
I hope Labour (I guess someone’s English, now, too) is written by JT. Because the reviews will be that much more entertaining.