When Left is Right

The times have suited her as well. Not only did her show launch in an electrifying election period, but it was also a moment when "the repressed political fervor" of the left had erupted, says Olbermann, who has also both benefited from and symbolized this mood. In this climate, MSNBC's commentary moved left, and now is often criticized for presenting a liberal alternative to the sharply partisan Fox. But Ariana Huffington, founder of The Huffington Post (and Maddow's fill-in host last week) says it is wrong to think of Maddow as a liberal riposte to Fox. "People were surprised by her success because they saw her as an anomaly, but she is the opposite. She has tapped into a zeitgeist where what was considered to be left wing is now mainstream." Like Obama, "she is representing the center." Or at least the center in Huffington's world view.

Not everyone is gushing about Maddow. While she has long had the reputation of being the liberal whom conservatives like, some now say she's biased and theatrical. David Frum, a former speechwriter for George W. Bush, had never seen the show before he was invited on to talk about nasty politicking in the GOP, and he says he was horrified by Maddow's tone. When he went on air he slammed the show as part of the problem, with its "heavy sarcasm and sneering disregard for a lot of substantive issues that are really important." She fought back, challenging the idea that making jokes on a news show could be morally equivalent to calling out "terrorist" at a rally. He told NEWSWEEK that while he considered Maddow to be an "unusually thoughtful and intelligent person," her show was one of many on cable TV that turned politics into a circus.

Criticism is what you get when you make it, when you move from outsider to club member—exactly the kind of progression Maddow has resisted for much of her life. At Stanford, she railed against the "homogeneity" of the student culture and wrote a thesis dissecting what happened to AIDS sufferers when they moved from "other" to "one of us." She did the same at Oxford, moving off campus in her first year into a London squat. She relishes her difference, calls herself a dork and goes along with her portrayal as the unlikely candidate, telling one journalist, "You can always cast yourself as unlikely when you're fundamentally alienated in your world view." The reason she and Mikula stay happily unmarried, says Mikula, is because "we both have a real fondness for the outsider part of our gay culture."

So what happens when the outsider is leading the pack? When the disgruntled left becomes the sober, powerful mainstream? How disgruntled is Maddow, anyway? Does her joviality mask a deep partisan fury? Or is she motivated more by a "pure flame of public service," as Olbermann puts it? At a midnight dinner at a bar in downtown Manhattan, over a meal of fish and red wine, she admits, uncomfortably, that she is driven by fear of failure: "It's very boring and sad. I want to convince myself that my existence matters." She says she is not an angry person—just emotional. "I get teary a lot," she says cheerfully, pulling one of the handkerchiefs she carries with her at all times out of her pocket and pointing out the bubble pattern on it. She believes in ghosts and is "knock on wood" superstitious. She is also anxious, often lying awake worrying about America's need for improved infrastructure and national security.

For Maddow, the job never really stops. She regularly works 16-hour days, only eating once she has finished. She often has just one large meal at 2 a.m., purchased from street vendors. Wolff says she "simply wants to be excellent." Phil Griffin, the head of MSNBC, attributes her success to a certain "magic," and to her application: "She comes in every day and studies for eight hours. I think one of the biggest mistakes that people make when they come in to television and cable news, which is a really intense, competitive area, is to not work hard. This is not for the soft of heart. It's intense."

Maddow's achievements do not always come easily. What only those close to her know is that she has suffered from cyclical depression since puberty that, she says, you can set your watch by. At her lowest points, she loses her sense of smell: "It's a warning sign that like, 'Oh, I'm not going to be able to live with myself for the next 48 hours'. It's weird."