Perspective: Lamenting capitalism as it rears its Brazen Head

At twenty years old, I’ve had my heart broken for the very first time. The kind of heartbreak that only happens once, but leaves an ache that just won’t disappear. Heartbreak so great, it couldn’t possibly be inflicted by another human being; and the fact of the matter is, the source of my heartbreak was something greater, stronger, more powerful than any single person could ever be. It dashed my dreams, robbed me of my innocence and single-handedly catalyzed a dramatic loss of faith in humanity. So what is this elusive iconoclast? The impetus that annihilated my idealism and the object of my disaffection? It’s a little something that we like to call capitalism.

Capitalism is a concept so ingrained in American society that few dare to truly question its means and motives. Every man for himself. Work hard enough and you too can achieve the “American Dream.” Don’t mind those people who can’t afford food, shelter, health care or higher education — they obviously did it to themselves and deserve everything they get. And for God’s sake, Che was a terrorist, not a revolutionary; Allende was a threat to Western democracy, not a democratically elected president; and as for Cuba, well, it’s easy to forget the atrocious conditions before the revolution and the fact that the country has arguably one of the best health care systems in the world because, after all, Communism is just plain evil. Never mind China, which Amnesty International classifies as having “serious and widespread human rights violations perpetrated across the country” in its most recent report and which, according to a senior member of the National People’s Congress, executes around 10,000 people per year — and that’s only an estimate, because most of these people simply disappear and are never heard from again. China’s long list of human rights abuses — including repression of religion and speech, unfair trials without any safeguards for the rights of the defendant, torture, physical abuse, forced abortion and sterilization, illegality of workers unions, detainment of suspects without charge or trial, and the rape and sexual abuse of women in detention facilities — are really a minor issue compared to the billions of dollars the United States makes trading with the Chinese. Who needs human rights when you can have cold, hard cash? Capitalism at its finest, my friends.

Beyond the disregard for human rights and the promotion of cutthroat social competition, capitalism has detrimental cultural effects and stimulates a loss of culture, history and national identity as well. Making money is of sole importance, and if you have to step on your fellow men and women and push aside centuries of culture and history to make it happen, so be it.

I cite my recent heartbreaking experience as an example.

The Brazen Head is Ireland’s oldest pub. It dates back to 1198 and received its liquor license in 1666. The Brazen Head teems with history; for centuries it has been a focal point of Irish society and was frequented by the likes of James Joyce, Michael Collins and the Wolf Tones. It is also where Irish revolutionary Robert Emmet used to board before he was executed by the British in 1803. Emmet’s final speech hangs on the wall by the bar, where it’s been since the week of his execution. Even through the 1960s, a century and a half after his execution, Emmet’s room was still in use at the upstairs boarding house; the original doors to his room were still scattered with dents made from the gun butts used by British soldiers to break in and take him to Kilmainham Jail, where he was tried and executed.

I know this not because I’m a history buff or even a fan of Robert Emmet’s revolutionary work — you can probably tell that it wasn’t too successful. No, I’m actually an admirer of Emmett Grogan, an American writer and revolutionary who was a boarder at the Brazen Head while he was living and working in Dublin in the late 1960s. Coincidentally enough, he stayed in the same room that Emmet lived in, and his writings about Dublin are one of the main reasons I decided to study here. Saying that Emmett Grogan is my hero is the understatement of the century; I’ve read Ringolevio, his masterpiece, no less than fifty times, and over time, the Brazen Head has become, in many ways, like my Mecca. Captured right there, through Emmett Grogan’s eyes, in the pages of Ringolevio. That is my Brazen Head.

But it’s amazing how much can change in half a century. The Celtic Tiger, a quirky little name for Ireland’s booming economy, is out of the bag, and now that capitalism reigns, nothing is sacred. The pub at the Brazen Head still holds its charm, with its eclectic wall decorations and traditional music every night, and yes, Robert Emmet’s speech still hangs on the wall. But now the place is a tourist haven, boasting a third pub with contemporary music and a flashy website with catchy graphics and a sensationalized history of the pub aimed more at bringing in the crowds than preserving the Brazen Head’s historical legacy. The upper floors no longer function as a boarding house; most remain empty, and the ones that do not have been converted into a trendy restaurant whose average dinner price for two is $75. And the room that Robert Emmet used to board in? It’s since been renamed the “Robert Emmet Room” and, complete with its own bar, hosts restaurant patrons and special events on a nightly basis. The original doors are no longer there. The rustic furnishings have been replaced with trendy tables and crisp white linens. And my dreams, my heroes, my Mecca, have been prostituted for the sake of capitalism.

Every time I walk through that courtyard into the pub, a part of me dies.

Come on and take it; take another little piece of my heart now, baby. Break it; break another little piece of my heart. I know you will. And it does.

Olena Ripnick, a junior in the College of Communication, can be reached at oripnick@bu.edu.