Michael Silverblatt Has Become David Caruso

..and by that I mean he has become a outrageous spoof of himself, as my brother Tod so deftly illustrates on his blog with an excerpt from this week's Bookworm on NPR.

Silverblatt: I am speaking with Geoff Dyer, who I consider to be possibly the best writer of…I won't say of novels and I won't say of essays, but of the strange inter-ground between them and because he, in a sense, unbuttons and allows the informality of the dissatisfied self to take the place of that vastly seniorial literary critic type who could only recite his dissatisfaction because this or that strayed from the tradition. With you it's very different.

Dyer:…yeah…I think this is one of those classic Silverblatt questions in that I'm not sure I have a response to it, other than to say thank you and yes, I agree. That is…there is…that is…there is…that's what's going on.

You've got to hand it to Dyer…he's one of the few authors who has actually responded to one of Silverblatt's bloated, nonsensical ramblings by basically saying: "I have no idea what the fuck you just said, you pompous windbag." 

Tod does a hilarious, pitch-perfect imitation of Silverblatt (and, in fact, once regaled his friends with it in the green room at the Los Angeles Times Festival of Books without realizing the windbag was sitting behind him). Here's an example:

Silverblatt: Today I'm pleased to welcome Mark Danielewski author of Only Revolutions, a novel which reminds me of another book, another word, another river of time that winds through a cloud of violence, which, like time, reminds me of Bonnie & Clyde and, more specifically, Badlands, and by "remind" I mean, within my own mind, and by mind, I mean the long rush of space where man is an incarnation of disconnection, and in disconnection, as e.e. cummings once said, and which I paraphrase here, as a highway paraphrases a road, or a road paraphrases a worm hole through space, if space is narrative and e.e. cummings is symbol that really means Mike Tyson, everyone has a plan until they get hit in the face, which, truly, Mark, this novel feels like…a punch in the face of time, and by time, I mean violence, and by violence, I mean fisting, and by fisting I mean, and here I'd like your thoughts, the way your book can be read backwards like the Torah, or upside down like a man wearing moon boots, or side to side like a roller derby fight. Yes?

Danielewski: Yes, yes, absolutely. Whatever. Can someone get my publicist on the phone? Her name is Kim Dower. Someone get me Kim fucking Dower!