The high-flying New York literary scene of the ‘90s is also the backdrop of Adrienne Miller’s memoir In The Land of Men (Ecco). A native of Ohio, Miller was an erudite and self-possessed college graduate who came to Manhattan and found work in men’s magazines, first as an assistant at GQ, then, at 25, as the literary editor of Esquire. Up against the industry’s unapologetic sexism and her own case of imposter syndrome, she survived by developing a façade of unflappability. Two decades later, she recounts her years as “improbable gatekeeper” with a poker-faced cool. She is less concerned with breaking character than spinning an elegy for the glory days of American magazine journalism, replete with dishy accounts of palace intrigues and reminiscences of smoke-filled cocktail parties. There are cameos by Norman Mailer, Gorge Plimpton, and Miller’s Esquire colleague Dave Eggers. The star of the show, though, is the late, great David Foster Wallace, who used to crank call the young editor at her office and quickly became her greatest confidante. So began a long-distance love affair that defied definition and, in the clear light of 2020, propriety. Their “rhizomatic conversations” were as playful, fun, and vexingly slippery as Wallace’s work, and we owe Miller gratitude for letting us listen in. – Lauren Mechling
The high-flying New York literary scene of the ‘90s is also the backdrop of Adrienne Miller’s memoir In The Land of Men (Ecco). A native of Ohio, Miller was an erudite and self-possessed college graduate who came to Manhattan and found work in men’s magazines, first as an assistant at GQ, then, at 25, as the literary editor of Esquire. Up against the industry’s unapologetic sexism and her own case of imposter syndrome, she survived by developing a façade of unflappability. Two decades later, she recounts her years as “improbable gatekeeper” with a poker-faced cool. She is less concerned with breaking character than spinning an elegy for the glory days of American magazine journalism, replete with dishy accounts of palace intrigues and reminiscences of smoke-filled cocktail parties. There are cameos by Norman Mailer, Gorge Plimpton, and Miller’s Esquire colleague Dave Eggers. The star of the show, though, is the late, great David Foster Wallace, who used to crank call the young editor at her office and quickly became her greatest confidante. So began a long-distance love affair that defied definition and, in the clear light of 2020, propriety. Their “rhizomatic conversations” were as playful, fun, and vexingly slippery as Wallace’s work, and we owe Miller gratitude for letting us listen in. – Lauren Mechling
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