A Pint of Plain: Tradition, Change, and the Fate of the Irish Pub

<p><b>Seamlessly blending history and reportage, Bill Barich offers a heartfelt homage to the traditional Irish pub, and to the central piece of Irish culture disappearing along with it. </b><br><b></b><br><b></b>After meeting an I rishwoman in London and moving to Dublin, Bill Barich -- a &quot;blow-in,&quot; or stranger, in Irish parlance -- found himself looking for a traditional I rish pub to be his local. There are nearly twelve thousand pubs in Ireland, so he appeared to have plenty of choices. He wanted a pub like the one in John Ford's classic movie, <i>The Quiet Man</i>, offering talk and drink with no distractions, but such pubs are now scare as publicans increasingly rely on flat-screen televisions, rock music, even Texas Hold 'Em to attract a dwindling clientele. For Barich, this signaled that something deeper was at play -- an erosion of the essence of Ireland, perhaps without the Irish even being aware. </p><p><i>A Pint of Plain </i>is Barich's witty, deeply observant portrait of an Ireland vanishing before our eyes. Drawing on the wit and wisdom of Flann O'Brien (the title comes from one of his poems) , James Joyce, Brendan Behan, and J. M. Synge, Barich explores how I rish culture has become a commodity for exports for such firms as the I rish Pub Company, which has built some five hundred &quot;authentic&quot; Irish pubs in forty-five countries, where &quot;authenticity is in the eye of the beholder.&quot; The tale of Arthur Guinness and the famous brewery he founded in the mid-eighteenth century reveals the astonishing fact that more stout is sold in Nigeria than in Ireland itself. While 85 percent of the I rish still stop by a pub at least once a month, strict drunk-driving laws have helped to kill business in rural areas. Even traditional I rish music, whose rich roots &quot;connect the past to the present and close a circle,&quot; is much less prominent in pub life. I ronically, while I rish pubs in the countryside are closing at the alarming rate of one per day, plastic I PC-type pubs are being born in foreign countries at the exact same rate. </p><p>From the famed watering holes of Dublin to tiny village pubs, Barich introduces a colorful array of characters, and, ever pursuing <i>craic</i>, the ineffable Irish word for a good time, engages in an unvarnished yet affectionate discussion about what it means to be Irish today.</p>