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cassanette's review
5.0
reading this book, more like
Plague of Ghouls is my favourite book of 2018. Possibly ever. It's imprinted on my soul. There. I said it. Now let's go from here.
If you are reading this, it’s because of 2 most likely reasons:
1. you’re wondering whether this series is worth checking out,
2. you’ve read the book and want to read another opinion.
If you are wondering whether this series is worth reading, I can’t say anything other than “yes, yes, a million times YES”. It’s humanely impossible for me to say anything else after reading this book.
If you’re reading this to get an in-depth explanation why I would say such a thing – this is a long review and I express a lot of feelings because I find it cathartic. Fun fact, this here is only a fragment of the 10k rant I wrote after finishing the book in which I analysed it in-depth, to the best of my abilities. You’re welcome to read my thoughts and take from them what you want but they are just my own interpretation, in the end. (All spoilers for this book are hidden.)
Basic info: the book takes place 3 weeks after the events of Blight of Exiles. This time around there are 3 narrators: Ishmael – our narrator from the first book, Ferox – a survivor from the quarantine, and Hector Two-Trees who is a new (brilliant) addition to the cast. The plot partly deals with the consequences of what happened in book 1, and partly with a string of grisly murders that need to be solved before an even bigger disaster strikes. As always, disaster strikes anyway.
The thing is... I love this book. I've loved it since the beginning and I've already known it would get a glowing 5-star rating from me when I reached around 35%. There was just no other way. Somewhere along the way I fell utterly and completely in love with these characters. I would die for each and every one of them, and it was around that 35% mark that I realised it makes me cry just thinking of them - that's how much I love them. It... doesn't happen often to me. Sure, I love a good cry while reading, but I wouldn't say I do it easily. That said, I cried most of my way through Plague of Ghouls. The Jenna Marbles screenshot at the beginning is there for a reason.
Blight of Exiles, book 1 of the Helix trilogy, was amazing. I approached it somewhat cautiously because this isn’t my usual genre and I’ve never been a fan of werewolves. But the premise sounded intriguing, and the covers were absolutely stunning. Long story short, I adored that book. It was dark, it was atmospheric, and the characters stole my heart in a way I hadn’t anticipated. But that book was merely a prologue of sorts, a warm-up to the madness that is Plague of Ghouls. I thought I was ready for what I would be thrown into. I was so wrong.
THE PLOT TWISTS.
THE REVEALS.
THE BETRAYALS.
THE HEARTBREAK.
The book touches on the topic of unethical human experimentation, like its predecessor, but also...massive extermination. We’re talking full-on genocide. At first I was curious about what the frequently mentioned ‘Moldova incident’ was all about but when I found out... I realised I didn’t really want to know. The existence of the Wyndham Farms quarantine was already horrible enough on its own, and then Moldova was revealed. In a deadly outbreak of this scale, how does one deal with the orders they are given? How does one not blur the line between the necessary and the bestial, without losing their soul along the way? And if they do, what’s to differentiate them from a Lost One? And who’s to blame for it, then? The book presents uncomfortable problems that come with an even more uncomfortable question. To what extent does following orders in a situation of perceived threat absolve a person from responsibility for committing heinous acts. If there is no black and white in a situation, only gray, where does that leave the people involved in making it happen. There is no easy answer. Maybe there is no right answer, too, not unless one has been in this situation and seen it all.
Then there’s the matter of the book’s villains.It’s mostly a bunch of marginalised children promised a better life. A life where they matter. And then discarded like trash, all they’ve got left an insatiable hunger and revenge. Those responsible have to pay.
It’s... tragic. It doesn’t excuse murders and sowing terror but it’s still tragic from a personal point of view. Yes, the kids wanted power, but also most of them wouldn’t have any prospects in life. They have nothing left after this – they’re decaying monstrosities, left to deal with the damage that is their ruined bodies, hatred and disgust.
And then there’s Sydney, which... just... no. Just no. Her last and only wish is to be put out of her misery and it reminded me so much of Icepick on that road, with the grenade in book 1 – a few moments later even Ishmael had the same thought. It breaks me. It honestly just breaks me so much, seeing all this hurt, it hurts. The worst part is that she’s still kept enough of her mind to be aware. She doesn’t even get the luxury of oblivion.
I am a fan of middle books in series, personally. I’m well aware that it’s a somewhat unpopular opinion, but to me the middle book makes or breaks a series. It builds up on the first book and raises the tension higher and higher, sets up the stakes in preparation for the finale. Often the accusations are those of poor pacing – I think the pacing of this book is fantastic, I was never bored and was on the edge of my seat practically the entire time. How is that even possible?! I welcomed slightly slower parts because reading them I could breathe again and calm down my racing heart. Quiet moments are what makes characterisation shine, in my opinion, and this book proves that 100%. Seeing characters share intimate moments, have heartfelt conversations, letting their guard down is what I find many stories sacrifice at the altar of fast pace and elaborate story in which the characters serve as mere puppets. Those stories are forgettable. If it's just a constant stream of shallow tragedies that happen to shallow characters, you stop caring or never even start. Because... why bother?
In fact, I would die for the characters in this series (and it does feel like I died about ten thousand times reading just this book). They crept up on me in a way I could never have expected and completely ruined my life. I could read about them doing anything and be entertained. In fact, one of my favourite scenes is when they’re on a road trip of sorts and discussing terrible bathroom options. I mean, do I have strange preferences? Yes, possibly. Does this book manage to give me what I want? It sure does. Give me characters doing domestic things, everyday life things, being cranky together, and I will love you forever. So... I will love this book forever. (In case that wasn't already established.)
What further helps maintain the perfect balance and keep things above the ‘unbearably grim’ level is humour. This book is full of tragedy and shocking turns but it’s also full of genuinely hilarious moments and lines. The characters have inside jokes and quirks which really adds so much to the reception of the whole.
One of the biggest strengths of this series are the characters and their relationships and I will now talk about my feelings about them in-depth because, oh, do I have A TON OF THOSE.
Ishmael. My poor, dear Ishmael. He breaks my heart so much I want to burst into tears right here and now (spoiler alert – I will say this about most of the characters, because it’s true). Reading his storyline was incredibly hard. He’s trying his best – and failing. Because he’s set to fail. He knows it, just doesn’t know why.(Well, he’s starting to know now.) He’s slipping and it’s absolutely heartbreaking to watch. The island broke him, there’s no mistaking that. His nightmares speak for themselves.
The quarantine forced his worst fears out of him, and forced him to confront them, head-on. It’s not pretty – it’s terrifying, actually. He hates being seen by others in a vulnerable state. (Something I can deeply understand and relate to personally. His carefully maintained image of disinterested reserve and self-control is continuously shattered and the vulnerable inside exposed for everyone to see and feel pity for – a worst nightmare for someone who needs to feel in control.) He loves his power and it’s his worst fear to have it taken away from him, left at the mercy of others. To be forced to face mortality, which terrifies him to the bone. As it happened in Wyndham.
He swears to never again have it taken away from him. Except... it is taken away from him, again, and that’s what hurts so much. Twice, now, he was put in a situation where he was unable to give consent and had things, damn scary irreversible things, done to his body – kidnapped, beaten, drugged and unconscious the first time, and comatose, quite nearly dead the second time.
And in the end, the last choice that he can make for himself is to die. He makes it. He dies alone, in the dark, taking down a horrifying monster as a mercy-killing, surrounded by water he’s always been terrified of. But he’s saved, artificially kept alive and turned into something he hates.
He’s had his agency brutally stripped away, and I, as a reader, was there to watch him crumble, step by agonising step. It makes his storyline evocative and powerful, but also terrifying and painful to follow.
What I really liked about the transition from single-POV to multi-POV is that in this book we finally get to see Ishmael how others see him, their opinions untainted by his own beliefs and his own narrative voice. I thought that this provided some very interesting insight into his character from multiple angles. It definitely helps paint a wider picture of his relationship with his Pack – the Tiger Dogs, as his fellow quarantine survivors are mockingly dubbed on the outside. I could clearly see that he cares about them(e.g. he cares enough about Dep to enough to want him to forget the harm that was done to him and his family by Wyrd) but prefers to keep his emotional distance, while they trust him and are ready to follow him anywhere because of what he did for them on the island and beyond. It’s... a complicated but really loving relationship, and I adore it.
It could be said that a protagonist is only as strong as his relationships with the supporting cast. That said, the relationships in this book are wonderfully executed. They are complex and feel real.
I’m glad this series doesn’t go in the direction of the typical paranormal romance with werewolves. The romantic storylines are there but instead of taking the primary role, they are rather part of the background – an integral, crucial part but not the main focus. I really appreciate that. That said, Ishmael and Holly are my everything. I swear, their every scene just melts my heart. They are so supportive and gentle with each other – looking at them I see two broken people who are not-quite-there, both fighting their demons and fighting to stay afloat, who found each other in hell and decided to be there for each other from then on. To support each other no matter what, through whatever comes, the good and the bad – because it’s better to do it that way than do it alone. I think that’s beautiful and I absolutely adore all their interactions. They just care about each other’s well-being so much and it gives me so many warm feelings. In a book so dark and hopeless, they are the light that shines bright – like the lighthouse seen from the stormy sea, a promise of hope and safety.
Ishmael’s relationship with Gil also broke me in all the possible ways.I loved it and I was made to suffer for it. Their revealed backstory made me care, and then this beautiful aura of brotherly love was crushed by Gil’s reveal that he experimented on Ishmael before he sent him to the island. I... I was shattered. Ended. I live for such dynamics because they are so full of conflicting feelings, but oh do they hurt like hell. Especially seeing how Gil didn’t want any of it to happen, but also couldn’t... not do anything. Because of what happened to him and all the pent-up anger. At Ishmael, at the world – because who’s really to blame for his condition? But he wants someone to pay, and I think that’s a very human feeling, in the end. No matter how much it hurts everyone involved.
I of course can’t not mention Ishmael’s relationship with Bridget, which – surprise surprise – I adore. I love their easy camaraderie, their deep love for each other, their shared history. They love each other so much, and yet... There’s those barriers between them that they need to overcome before it can be the two of them against the world again. Their starting point in this book hurts, but that makes the storyline of rebuilding their relationship all the more beautiful and wholesome. I really don’t see enough of strong and complex platonic relationships between men and women in fiction, which is why this storyline was refreshing and those two have a really special place in my heart.
I loved how Ishmael’s storyline runs parallel, in a way,to the other survivors’ stories. He’s experiencing something similar to what they’ve been feeling all along. Unethically robbed of their lives. Became something else, something that terrified them, and had to go on and accept their cruel fate. And I also loved how now their storylines run in reverse parallel (is that a thing? as a linguist I should be better with words, probably, but it is what it is) and who better to portray that than our lovely Ferox, a.k.a. Danielle Smith. While Ishmael’s arc in this book is all about losing agency, her storyline is about regaining hers.
First off, I was so, so happy that she got her own POV chapters! I adored Ferox in book 1 and I’m so glad we got to explore her character this much deeper. Loved learning even the scraps of her backstory and seeing her struggle with the fate she was dealt. She had everything taken away from her and she doesn’t know or remember why. All she could ever do was accept it without struggle and try her best to survive in an environment where a moment of weakness meant death, which is just heartbreaking.
All these years of cruelty and uncertainty have taught her that, in the end, they’ve all been condemned to certain doom. No, scratch that, there was one certain thing in Wyndham Farms: she will get hurt, everyone she cares about will get hurt at any time, so she should enjoy things while they last but never linger. Distance herself and become cold – that’s the only way to make it and do what needs to be done once her close ones inevitably get Lost. The quarantine took away her hope and I think that’s even more savage than killing her would be.
But I can’t blame her at all for wanting desperately to close her heart. Her relationship with Dep breaks me into tiny pieces and their scenes were my absolute doom.I can’t even imagine the pain of seeing the man she loves visibly deteriorate like that – lose himself and his humanity bit by bit, everyday. To see him turn into something so monstrous that terrifies her, who was made into a beast too. To see him turn on her and have him hurt her, a wild look in his eyes, the person she relied on the most and trusted the most. To look at him and think of how she’ll have to put him down to defend herself and others from him when his mind’s gone dark.
I already stated that Ferox’ story arc in this book is regaining her agency – and what a terrific thing it is.I loved how in Plague of Ghouls the quarantine survivors got to interact with their captors, the agents who hunted them, brought them to the island and left them there to rot – but on different terms this time. The Padre got to interact with Bridget and Two-Trees, Dep with Bridget, and Ferox with Jay and Angie. Each of those... “relationships” (if you could even call them that) is very precarious, for obvious reasons, but each of them has its own unique and fascinating dynamic.
The third narrator in this book is a new addition to the cast. Hector Two-Trees – a native forensic anthropologist assigned to the murder case. First of all, what a fine character! Second, his contemplating finally going to the gym is a three-part series in itself that deserves a special shoutout because, honestly, it's... too real. I’m usually sceptical about new characters getting POV chapters in the middle of series but his parts pulled me in right away. His backstory is much like the murder case itself – a mystery, slowly unfolding before my eyes. I love how with each new piece of the puzzle I got to understand him better, see what drives him to do what he does. I love, love the resolution of his emotional arc. Two-Trees is a fascinating character, brings interesting insight into other characters and new relationships – especially his relationship with Bridget deserves a moment. It's so well-developed and fits organically into the whole from page one, as if it’d always been there and not appeared out of the blue at all.
What I find particularly compelling is the idea of framing this book’s main story inside a different story,one that Two-Trees and his grandfather wrote when Hector was a child. It makes for poignant storytelling and some truly heart wrenching moments.
For the lack of space left, I can't go into the rest of the characters. If, for some reason you're still reading this and are interested in more thoughts, complete with quotes and personal rambling, you're welcome to read the full spoiler-filled thing here: http://squirrelwaffle.tumblr.com/reviewthingy.
Safe to say, glowing 5 stars.
“We’ll get through this,” he told her. His voice was getting raspy, airy. “We’ll get it sorted out. All of it. No more quarantines, no more outbreaks, no more . . .” Betrayals.
Plague of Ghouls is my favourite book of 2018. Possibly ever. It's imprinted on my soul. There. I said it. Now let's go from here.
If you are reading this, it’s because of 2 most likely reasons:
1. you’re wondering whether this series is worth checking out,
2. you’ve read the book and want to read another opinion.
If you are wondering whether this series is worth reading, I can’t say anything other than “yes, yes, a million times YES”. It’s humanely impossible for me to say anything else after reading this book.
If you’re reading this to get an in-depth explanation why I would say such a thing – this is a long review and I express a lot of feelings because I find it cathartic. Fun fact, this here is only a fragment of the 10k rant I wrote after finishing the book in which I analysed it in-depth, to the best of my abilities. You’re welcome to read my thoughts and take from them what you want but they are just my own interpretation, in the end. (All spoilers for this book are hidden.)
Basic info: the book takes place 3 weeks after the events of Blight of Exiles. This time around there are 3 narrators: Ishmael – our narrator from the first book, Ferox – a survivor from the quarantine, and Hector Two-Trees who is a new (brilliant) addition to the cast. The plot partly deals with the consequences of what happened in book 1, and partly with a string of grisly murders that need to be solved before an even bigger disaster strikes. As always, disaster strikes anyway.
The thing is... I love this book. I've loved it since the beginning and I've already known it would get a glowing 5-star rating from me when I reached around 35%. There was just no other way. Somewhere along the way I fell utterly and completely in love with these characters. I would die for each and every one of them, and it was around that 35% mark that I realised it makes me cry just thinking of them - that's how much I love them. It... doesn't happen often to me. Sure, I love a good cry while reading, but I wouldn't say I do it easily. That said, I cried most of my way through Plague of Ghouls. The Jenna Marbles screenshot at the beginning is there for a reason.
Blight of Exiles, book 1 of the Helix trilogy, was amazing. I approached it somewhat cautiously because this isn’t my usual genre and I’ve never been a fan of werewolves. But the premise sounded intriguing, and the covers were absolutely stunning. Long story short, I adored that book. It was dark, it was atmospheric, and the characters stole my heart in a way I hadn’t anticipated. But that book was merely a prologue of sorts, a warm-up to the madness that is Plague of Ghouls. I thought I was ready for what I would be thrown into. I was so wrong.
THE PLOT TWISTS.
THE REVEALS.
THE BETRAYALS.
THE HEARTBREAK.
The book touches on the topic of unethical human experimentation, like its predecessor, but also...
“I hated you for killing all those people, you know. Then a year later, I stopped hating you, because I saw just how bad an outbreak could get. (...)”
Then there’s the matter of the book’s villains.
It’s... tragic. It doesn’t excuse murders and sowing terror but it’s still tragic from a personal point of view. Yes, the kids wanted power, but also most of them wouldn’t have any prospects in life. They have nothing left after this – they’re decaying monstrosities, left to deal with the damage that is their ruined bodies, hatred and disgust.
Ishmael measured his words and balanced his voice. “You’ll die in the crash.”
She laughed, then stopped suddenly, pressing her free hand against a bloodless rip in her cheek. She stared at him, hating him, laughing at him with her eyes. “And wouldn’t that be a kindness?"
And then there’s Sydney, which... just... no. Just no. Her last and only wish is to be put out of her misery and it reminded me so much of Icepick on that road, with the grenade in book 1 – a few moments later even Ishmael had the same thought. It breaks me. It honestly just breaks me so much, seeing all this hurt, it hurts. The worst part is that she’s still kept enough of her mind to be aware. She doesn’t even get the luxury of oblivion.
I am a fan of middle books in series, personally. I’m well aware that it’s a somewhat unpopular opinion, but to me the middle book makes or breaks a series. It builds up on the first book and raises the tension higher and higher, sets up the stakes in preparation for the finale. Often the accusations are those of poor pacing – I think the pacing of this book is fantastic, I was never bored and was on the edge of my seat practically the entire time. How is that even possible?! I welcomed slightly slower parts because reading them I could breathe again and calm down my racing heart. Quiet moments are what makes characterisation shine, in my opinion, and this book proves that 100%. Seeing characters share intimate moments, have heartfelt conversations, letting their guard down is what I find many stories sacrifice at the altar of fast pace and elaborate story in which the characters serve as mere puppets. Those stories are forgettable. If it's just a constant stream of shallow tragedies that happen to shallow characters, you stop caring or never even start. Because... why bother?
In fact, I would die for the characters in this series (and it does feel like I died about ten thousand times reading just this book). They crept up on me in a way I could never have expected and completely ruined my life. I could read about them doing anything and be entertained. In fact, one of my favourite scenes is when they’re on a road trip of sorts and discussing terrible bathroom options. I mean, do I have strange preferences? Yes, possibly. Does this book manage to give me what I want? It sure does. Give me characters doing domestic things, everyday life things, being cranky together, and I will love you forever. So... I will love this book forever. (In case that wasn't already established.)
What further helps maintain the perfect balance and keep things above the ‘unbearably grim’ level is humour. This book is full of tragedy and shocking turns but it’s also full of genuinely hilarious moments and lines. The characters have inside jokes and quirks which really adds so much to the reception of the whole.
“Who the hell are you?” the stranger asked. “Are you one of them?”
“Sure,” Ishmael said.
“A cannibal?”
Ishmael frowned. “God no.”
“Prove it.”
Ishmael slowly canted his head. “Okay,” he replied, voice rich with sarcasm. “I won’t eat you.”
One of the biggest strengths of this series are the characters and their relationships and I will now talk about my feelings about them in-depth because, oh, do I have A TON OF THOSE.
Ishmael. My poor, dear Ishmael. He breaks my heart so much I want to burst into tears right here and now (spoiler alert – I will say this about most of the characters, because it’s true). Reading his storyline was incredibly hard. He’s trying his best – and failing. Because he’s set to fail. He knows it, just doesn’t know why.
The quarantine forced his worst fears out of him, and forced him to confront them, head-on. It’s not pretty – it’s terrifying, actually. He hates being seen by others in a vulnerable state. (Something I can deeply understand and relate to personally. His carefully maintained image of disinterested reserve and self-control is continuously shattered and the vulnerable inside exposed for everyone to see and feel pity for – a worst nightmare for someone who needs to feel in control.) He loves his power and it’s his worst fear to have it taken away from him, left at the mercy of others. To be forced to face mortality, which terrifies him to the bone. As it happened in Wyndham.
”He didn’t want to die human.
No. It’s not about dying human. I don’t want to live as a human. I was something more. Something better. Something strong. And they took it away from me—they took it—”
And in the end, the last choice that he can make for himself is to die. He makes it. He dies alone, in the dark, taking down a horrifying monster as a mercy-killing, surrounded by water he’s always been terrified of. But he’s saved, artificially kept alive and turned into something he hates.
He’s had his agency brutally stripped away, and I, as a reader, was there to watch him crumble, step by agonising step. It makes his storyline evocative and powerful, but also terrifying and painful to follow.
What I really liked about the transition from single-POV to multi-POV is that in this book we finally get to see Ishmael how others see him, their opinions untainted by his own beliefs and his own narrative voice. I thought that this provided some very interesting insight into his character from multiple angles. It definitely helps paint a wider picture of his relationship with his Pack – the Tiger Dogs, as his fellow quarantine survivors are mockingly dubbed on the outside. I could clearly see that he cares about them
It could be said that a protagonist is only as strong as his relationships with the supporting cast. That said, the relationships in this book are wonderfully executed. They are complex and feel real.
I’m glad this series doesn’t go in the direction of the typical paranormal romance with werewolves. The romantic storylines are there but instead of taking the primary role, they are rather part of the background – an integral, crucial part but not the main focus. I really appreciate that. That said, Ishmael and Holly are my everything. I swear, their every scene just melts my heart. They are so supportive and gentle with each other – looking at them I see two broken people who are not-quite-there, both fighting their demons and fighting to stay afloat, who found each other in hell and decided to be there for each other from then on. To support each other no matter what, through whatever comes, the good and the bad – because it’s better to do it that way than do it alone. I think that’s beautiful and I absolutely adore all their interactions. They just care about each other’s well-being so much and it gives me so many warm feelings. In a book so dark and hopeless, they are the light that shines bright – like the lighthouse seen from the stormy sea, a promise of hope and safety.
Ishmael’s relationship with Gil also broke me in all the possible ways.
“When Harvey sent out that kitten video,” Bridget said, “Gil was convinced you’d flipped your lid. He loved you too much to kill you, but he hated you enough to cure you.”
I of course can’t not mention Ishmael’s relationship with Bridget, which – surprise surprise – I adore. I love their easy camaraderie, their deep love for each other, their shared history. They love each other so much, and yet... There’s those barriers between them that they need to overcome before it can be the two of them against the world again. Their starting point in this book hurts, but that makes the storyline of rebuilding their relationship all the more beautiful and wholesome. I really don’t see enough of strong and complex platonic relationships between men and women in fiction, which is why this storyline was refreshing and those two have a really special place in my heart.
I loved how Ishmael’s storyline runs parallel, in a way,
First off, I was so, so happy that she got her own POV chapters! I adored Ferox in book 1 and I’m so glad we got to explore her character this much deeper. Loved learning even the scraps of her backstory and seeing her struggle with the fate she was dealt. She had everything taken away from her and she doesn’t know or remember why. All she could ever do was accept it without struggle and try her best to survive in an environment where a moment of weakness meant death, which is just heartbreaking.
All these years of cruelty and uncertainty have taught her that, in the end, they’ve all been condemned to certain doom. No, scratch that, there was one certain thing in Wyndham Farms: she will get hurt, everyone she cares about will get hurt at any time, so she should enjoy things while they last but never linger. Distance herself and become cold – that’s the only way to make it and do what needs to be done once her close ones inevitably get Lost. The quarantine took away her hope and I think that’s even more savage than killing her would be.
But I can’t blame her at all for wanting desperately to close her heart. Her relationship with Dep breaks me into tiny pieces and their scenes were my absolute doom.
I already stated that Ferox’ story arc in this book is regaining her agency – and what a terrific thing it is.
The third narrator in this book is a new addition to the cast. Hector Two-Trees – a native forensic anthropologist assigned to the murder case. First of all, what a fine character! Second, his contemplating finally going to the gym is a three-part series in itself that deserves a special shoutout because, honestly, it's... too real. I’m usually sceptical about new characters getting POV chapters in the middle of series but his parts pulled me in right away. His backstory is much like the murder case itself – a mystery, slowly unfolding before my eyes. I love how with each new piece of the puzzle I got to understand him better, see what drives him to do what he does. I love, love the resolution of his emotional arc. Two-Trees is a fascinating character, brings interesting insight into other characters and new relationships – especially his relationship with Bridget deserves a moment. It's so well-developed and fits organically into the whole from page one, as if it’d always been there and not appeared out of the blue at all.
What I find particularly compelling is the idea of framing this book’s main story inside a different story,
For the lack of space left, I can't go into the rest of the characters. If, for some reason you're still reading this and are interested in more thoughts, complete with quotes and personal rambling, you're welcome to read the full spoiler-filled thing here: http://squirrelwaffle.tumblr.com/reviewthingy.
Safe to say, glowing 5 stars.
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