Where It All Goes Down
Lightsburg, Ohio, 1973
We wish we had a nicer way to say this, but Lightsburg kind of stinks. According to the cities mentioned in the book—including Lima, Dayton, and Toledo—the town is situated somewhere in western Ohio, and western Ohio, with the exception of a few major cities, pretty much looks like this.
How exciting. We just know you're itching to pack up your bags and road trip out to Lightsburg to see some falling-down buildings and corn. Maybe while you're there, you can also visit one of the town's three—count 'em, three—restaurants and catch a movie from the 1930s at the only theater in town. You can even look at some dilapidated houses that are trying to look cool; in Karl's words, "The houses, once all Norman Rockwell-y frames and shingles and clapboards, were now your basic Do It Yourself Duct Tape White Trash Shithole" (7.4).
Interestingly enough, the person who totally nails a description of Lightsburg is Karl's mom, who shares the following words of wisdom while drunk at the pizza shop:
"You couldn't be dumb enough to be thinking of staying here in Lightsburg," she said, not making it a question. "You know this whole stupid little armpit of a town is dying, the jobs are going, the people are going, all that's going to be left is ucky ucky old turds that don't want anything to change ever and hate everyone's freedom, this place will look like the Ohio State Rest Home for the Elderly Stupid in another twenty years. You need to get out, Karl." (2.58)
Stupid armpit? Dying town? Ucky ucky turds? Yeah, that pretty much sums it all up.
So, here's the real question: Why subject the characters to life in such a wretched place? In a way, looking at Lightsburg is like holding a mirror up to their lives. There's a grandfather who molests his grandchildren, a dad who belittles his son for being gay, a mom and dad who are basically absent all the time taking care of their failing boutique store, Karl's mom stealing his money—there's an awful lot of darkness in a place that's already pretty dark to begin with. If the story had unfolded in a different town—say, Mayberry or Pleasantville—it definitely wouldn't look the same.
Hang on, though. We have a little more ground to cover. Here's a hint—it involves tie-dye t-shirts, "make love, not war" student protests, Vietnam, and a president who's a big lying lie face. Oh yes, Shmoopers, we're talking about … the 1970s.
Okay, now that we got that out of our system, let's talk about 1973. It might seem like ancient history, but back in the early '70s, things were super out of control. In 1970, President Nixon announced that even though he had promised to end the war in Vietnam, he was now escalating it into Cambodia. Just a few days later, four students were killed when the National Guard fired into a crowd of protesters on the Kent State University campus.
Two years later, the unthinkable happened: The President of the United States lied to the country about his involvement in a break-in at Democratic National Committee's headquarters to try to get an advantage in the upcoming election. Yeah, we're talking about Watergate.
So, that was a fun history lesson and all, but how does all this relate to the Madmen? Here's how—the chaos of the characters' lives pretty well mirrors the circumstances of the 1970s as well. The Madmen are students rebelling against the authority figures who let them slide through the cracks, and the people who are supposed to be taking care of them are often untrustworthy, selfish, and, well, crooks. Tales of the Madmen Underground captures its historical era with detail that lends a greater sense of these kids' troubles to the story.