Robot Dreams, Sara Varon

I will never forget you, little book, for finding me in the middle of this raging pandemic. It was a case of mistaken identity, yes. I was looking for Asimov’s Robot Dreams on Amazon, when I found this picture of a dog and a robot chilling out in a boat. I thought Asimov could wait. I took a look inside and I knew that you, little book, chose to find me, and not the other way around.

There’s not a word in your story. Only little pictures of a dog and a robot dreaming and pining for each other. They were so perfect for each other, weren’t they? They did the chores together. They set up the popcorn things for movie night together. They had so much fun.

If not for that episode at the beach . . .

Now Dog and Robot are torn apart. Dog goes through a succession of friends, trying to fill the gap left by Robot, while Robot watches the seasons change, and dreams and dreams . . .

How will they mend their broken selves?

I love wordless graphic novels for the precise reason that I love window gazing. So much of life silently unfolds before our unseeing eyes, asking for only our attention.

If wordless graphic novels are windows, then Robot Dreams would be a magnanimous French window where you can climb out easily and lose yourself in this bittersweet world. You are not a gazer anymore. You become one with Dog and Robot, and partake of their delights and heartbreaks.

How does Sara Varon achieve this?

By keeping it simple.

Simple brushstrokes, simple settings, and everyday, believable characters. Dog and Robot could be any one of us. After all, who hasn’t experienced love and loss? Who hasn’t tasted companionship and lonesomeness? Who hasn’t yearned for a second chance?

I want you to imagine you with your best friend.

Imagine the seasons changing and the tides turning.

Imagine both of you changing, nay, evolving, nay, blossoming with the changing of seasons and the turning of tides.

Imagine 200 pages of Robot Dreams.