Teratoid Heights isn't just a comic, it's a whole world. It's a land that's strange, yet somehow familiar, inhabited by a host of creatures that look totally alien, but often behave in ways that are surprisingly human. This book transports its readers to this mystical place, and then it basically just leaves them there to look around.
The book consists of a series of short comics, each of which shows inhabitants of Teratoid Heights going about their daily lives. There's no explanation, no real story, and almost* no text. I can't really explain why, but it's simply sublime. Even though there's a fair amount of violence, I find the reading experience calm and relaxing – almost meditative – something like going for a solitary stroll, or watching a nature documentary with the sound off. The whole thing, of course, owes a lot to Brinkman's art, which is fairly simple, but is drawn with great care, and is very evocative in terms of mood, landscape, lighting and texture. But this definitely isn’t just a collection of nice art, it’s an utterly engrossing reading experience, one unlike any I've had before.
*Out of more than 200 pages, only 14 feature dialogue, and they're all in the last chapter. This final chapter feels a bit different from the rest, its strips tending to be shorter and more humour-focused, and featuring markedly cruder art. This is probably the book's weakest content, but it's still very enjoyable, and in any case it only constitutes a small part of the work.