Summer 2025 Round Up
It’s been a few months since my last round-up, so I thought I’d combine June and July into one and call it a summer — even if the weather sometimes challenges that description. The usual mix of books, screen, music and assorted bits follows.
Books
A few more books than in the last round-up, as I caught up on some reviews — though a few still remain outstanding. The Wager by David Grann was a completely engrossing account of mutiny, shipwreck, murder, and survival against the odds. Crying in H-Mart by Michelle Zauner offered a moving reflection on grief and cultural identity. I also tried my hand at reviewing poetry for the first time, starting with Trish Bennett’s Stench, which was a pleasure. Meanwhile, John Boyne’s Elements series came to a poignant close with Air.
My recent holidays still linger on the blog, and I had a few travel-related reads to catch up on. I ploughed through Chris Broad’s breezily informative Abroad in Japan while travelling, and my fascination with konbinis led me to Convenience Store Woman — a darkly humorous critique of life in modern Japan. I’ve been drawn to Nippon for years, and Haruki Murakami has certainly played a part in that. I packed his latest, The City and Its Uncertain Walls, for the trip, but it took me until mid-July to finish. At nearly 500 pages, it’s a slow-burning meditation on memory, love, and the inner walls we build.
More Holidays
I know — just back from Japan and off again. But in fairness, I was simply taking advantage of the double bank holidays in July, and this time it only took a few bus rides to reach my destination. I loved it so much last year that I couldn’t resist a return to the stillness and solace of Glendalough.
I joked earlier about the weather, but I got extremely lucky during my five-night stay — what turned out to be the best spell of the year (so far). Temperatures hit the mid-twenties with barely a wisp of cloud in the sky. The view above is from the bench at the front of my small cillín. With the intense sun and little shade, I could only sit there in the early morning or from around half two onwards — and I spent many happy hours doing just that: meditating, contemplating, and reading.
I’ve become good at finding small pockets of silence in daily life, but Glendalough offers a chance to deepen that stillness and truly rest in awareness. With no broadband, TV, or radio, the only distractions were magpies and the occasional wild deer. I felt fidgety for the first couple of hours, but soon forgot about the phone. Then it was just me and my direct experience.
One day I completed a 20km hike, and on another I climbed a small local mountain — no small feat in that heat and with the lack of shade, I questioned my choices a couple of times. But mostly, the days were filled with meditation, mindful walks, and dipping into the spiritual books I’d brought along. You could call it a mini-retreat, though the schedule was loose and intuitive. If it sounds indulgent, I’d agree — it absolutely was. It can be hard to find space in life to be completely alone, but I made the most of it, especially the chance to quietly commune with nature.
When you lose touch with inner stillness, you lose touch with yourself. When you lose touch with yourself, you lose touch with the world. Your innermost sense of self is inseparable from stillness.
Eckhart Tolle
There is a subtle magnetism in Nature, which, if we unconsciously yield to it, will direct us aright. Standing alone on the bare ground… all mean egotism vanishes. I become a transparent eyeball; I am nothing; I see all; the currents of the Universal Being circulate through me.
— Ralph Waldo Emerson
Screen
No screen time in Glendalough, though the occasional hour in the evening or at weekends still allows for some TV — if you can find something worth watching, that is. A few shows were abandoned after only a couple of episodes, the first being Untamed.
I wanted to like ‘Untamed’ — I enjoy Eric Bana’s performances, and Yellowstone looks stunning. But a couple of episodes in, I’m still not sure I’ll finish. It ticks the usual boxes: a troubled, gruff anti-hero lead, paired with a rookie cop, with some office politics thrown in — the usual. I’m normally happy with a slow burner, but even the case itself hasn’t grabbed me. Maybe I’ll give it one more go if I’m stuck for something to watch.
Far more engaging was Department Q — one of the best I’ve seen on Netflix in a while. The lead is also a gruff anti-hero, but you get the sense he’s stuck, trying to find a way to function. So is his sidekick, Assad — a proper scene-stealer and a mysterious, warm presence; I just loved their developing partnership. It had a real emotional core, wasn’t afraid of stillness, and at times felt meditative. The cold cases didn’t seem like mere plot points — the victims felt human.
There’s probably not much to add about Squid Game 2 that hasn’t been said. I found it a satisfying conclusion, and they should leave it at that. God, it was bloody at times — but hey, that’s what the extreme competitiveness of capitalism does to you. Can we even leave the game and not play anymore? See how the world treats you.
They should probably wrap up The Bear too. I liked the new series — it had more resolution and pace. A real improvement on the last season, I thought. But I’d honestly be happy to leave the characters where they are now.
Music
Sad to hear about Brian Wilson dying. One of my favourite gigs was back in 2000 at Vicar St in Dublin. He’d just started performing again after decades — if I remember correctly, this was his first tour since the mid-sixties, and his health problems were well documented. I hadn’t realised when I bought the tickets, but our seats were front and centre, cabaret-style — just two rows from the front. Seated, the venue holds only about a thousand, so it felt pretty special. Hearing those classics I’d spent a lifetime with was something I knew I wouldn’t forget.
Similar to when Leonard Cohen returned to performing a couple of years later, there was real love from the audience. Brian was obviously still fragile, but you could feel the warmth in the room urging him on. To hear Good Vibrations, Wouldn’t It Be Nice, God Only Knows, etc., was unforgettable — a powerful, incredibly moving performance.
That’s it from me. I’ll leave you with one of my favourite versions of that song — unpolished, innocent, and vulnerable. There’s something sacred about it, and here it feels like it’s being sung by angels.
May you be happy, may you be well, may you be free from suffering.