For a city as massive and illustrious as Dublin, the state of current-day Dublin cannot simply trace its origin to one single industry, event, or beverage. Throughout my time in Dublin, I have been made routinely aware on the vast influence that culture and history have held the city to a crutch over, and I was again made aware of the city of Dublin's history through my visits to the Irish Famine Exhibition and the Guinness Storehouse.
Located in a shopping mall of all places across the street from the St. Stephens Green and the luxuriant Grafton Street, the Irish Famine Exhibition was an informative museum and a glorified PowerPoint presentation on the British vitriol and the unfortunate, lethal actions taken up by British forces to undermine the food safety and food supply of the native Irish population in the mid 19th-century. An accurate representation of the museum itself would hardly render itself to be emblematic in interior to other well-known museums, with black-painted plastered walls giving the exhibition a feel of a makeshift museum, however, the information given to any visitors is bleak and unsavory. Unfortunately, I do not hold any photographic memory of every fact and event that unfolded throughout the history of the Irish potato famine, but it is blatantly obvious to state that the famine negatively impacted the island in pretty much every discernible way due to British laissez-faire attitudes and aggression.
For one thing, it is usually never a healthy thing for a population when one of the prime food sources -- the potato -- is subject to crop blight, especially when at one point in time, the average Irish citizen consumed roughly 14 pounds of potatoes a day (not sure if this was greatly exaggerated or if I am way off in my recollection of the statistic, but alas). At that point, it almost seemed inevitable that bad times were on the brink for Ireland, but things were aggravated further when British colonial rule over Ireland effectively used their renowned mercantilism to siphon off potato supply for the British Isle instead of the Irish Isle where the potatoes were actually grown. This phenomenon of exporting food on an impulse remained a heated source of controversy since its inception and has likely added fuel to the fire of Irish anti-British sentiment and hostility to present-day sentiment.
Irish Famine Exhibition display on the history of tenant farmers (a hardened but not financially reliable position for many Irishmen at the time). The black plastered walls in the background are a mainstay in the museum's aesthetic and layout.
By far, the greatest impact the Irish potato famine incurred on the island of Ireland were how many people either died or left Ireland because of the damage inflicted on the innocent lives of those who had to endure such tragedies for years upon years. Roughly a million Irish people died largely because of disease and sheer hunger, and roughly the same amount of Irish people had to flee the country because of the tough times financially and health-wise. More so, the areas that were believed to have been the most severely impacted -- the southern and western portions of the island -- were where the Irish language flourished and subsequently where it began its decline in socialization and prominence.
The end of the exhibition's tour, which gave an epilogue and contemporary opinions on the historical impact of the Irish famine. Not pictured are newspaper clippings detailing daily issues with the famine in real time and letters to newspapers detailing the horrific accounts of life as an Irishman facing the brunt force of the famine.
While I could have many complaints about the museum, for its pricey nature (eight euros to walk around an exhibition filled primarily with cardboard cutouts is certainly not worth the money requested), unprofessional layout, and lack of immersive displays, it is clear that the museum works as an informative, formal presentation giving harrowing information on arguably the bleakest period in Irish history. For that alone, I believe the visit to the exhibition offered valuable insight into dark times and history lessons on what we can do going forward to prevent certain parallel events in the future. Connecting the events to class, the famine can certainly relate to the politics of international relations between Ireland and the United Kingdom, of which were frayed for much of the existence of both nations but have since simmered down to respectable negotiations and relative peace. For anyone writing a memoir about their life growing up in mid 19th-century Ireland, the potato famine would likely be a focal event of the memoir's structure regardless of personal strife (of which there is many in the Irish memoirs we have encountered) and could be a pivotal timeframe in dictating how life can play out from famine onwards.
For a less gloomy and vile outlook on Irish culture and history, I thought the obligatory tourist visit to the Guinness Storehouse was at least interesting, if at least not as advertised. The Storehouse is expansive in size and scope -- reminding me of the Heineken Experience in Amsterdam (strong recommendation on my behalf) -- but with such a large group of visitors interested in the Storehouse, the experience can be overwhelming and uninformative. While a group of touring college students would almost certainly be more interested in downing two customary pints of freshly distilled Guinness than in learning about the history of Guinness and its permanent home in Ireland (I am at least partially guilty in this assumption), I would have liked a less packed atmosphere and less demanding security detail on the premises to ensure a greater connect of information and fulfillment. Nonetheless, I thought it was incredibly inventive for the Guinness Storehouse to include the Guinness Academy, in which visitors learn the lengthy process of pouring a single pint of Guinness, the history of Guinness in its telemarketing campaigns, and the incorporation of restaurants and the party-like atmosphere of the Gravity Bar and all its panoramic views. These features can make the Guinness Storehouse a half-day experience if planned out correctly, which is perfect for a bunch of thirsty, booze-seeking American students -- for the most part.
The atrium of the Guinness Storehouse -- the grand entrance to an informative party, basically. Not sure what I am looking at for all its imposing features, but I'm here for it.
The panoramic views of Dublin from the Gravity Bar -- featuring a customary pint of Guinness -- reminded me intensely on the ending scene in Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory. Only I did not inherit the Guinness Brewery and Storehouse :(
For all the fun one can have at the Guinness Storehouse, the history of the Guinness brand and the societal impact it has bestowed on Ireland has been nothing short of looming and gigantic. Guinness has, for its eternity, been seen as a workingman's stout and the uniting crown jewel of Ireland's selective history with alcohol production and consumption, even if it was made by a Protestant in a Catholic-majority nation in which Catholic-Protestant relations have often been violent, testy, and distant. Regardless, the prevalence of Guinness has certainly not helped any notion of alcoholism and its dangerous effects on those who seek the Guinness for its taste (why anyone would seek out a bland Guinness over any other delicious choices of IPAs, ales, or lagers brewed in Ireland is beyond me, but I regress). Irrefutably, the Guinness has been a rare form of unity for a nation historically divided by religion and politics as a glass of joy for everyone who calls Ireland home to enjoy -- even if your opponents enjoy the concoction as much as you do. In literature and the art of memoirs, we have seen the brunt impact of alcoholism seen in Angela's Ashes, That's That, and Are You Somebody?, in which the authors are all either directly or indirectly victim to the abyss of alcoholism, which in Ireland likely means downing too many pints of Guinness. Nonetheless, the culture of Ireland has been pushed forward -- or backwards depending on your worldview on alcohol consumption -- through the uniting force of the Guinness Brewery. It's a lovely day for a Guinness (if you order another beer)!
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