I’m relatively new to the graphic novel scene, so I’m sure there’s a whole subgenre in which stories are told through pictures alone, sans thought bubbles or word balloons, narration or description. This is such a book, and I was totally fascinated by it. I’ve “read” it thrice—it only takes ten thoughtful minutes or so—and I continue to love it.

Robot Dreams is about a dog who builds a robot friend from a box set he purchased from a mail-order store. They enjoy life together, but when the robot rusts after spending time in the ocean, the dog is forced to leave him. The robot is stuck, buried, torn apart, and ultimately destroyed, yet through it all he can only dream of his dog friend and the times they’ll (hopefully) have again. The dog misses him but eventually moves on. The robot parts are eventually repurposed by a raccoon, and they two become friends, but there’s also a small spark at the end where memories of the original friendship return, and each then moves into his new relationship with joy.

This 200+ page book touches on many emotions and relational experiences, and each read-through could highlight something new. Words I wrote down as I went through it again include: regret, friendship, loss, differences, delusion, and fantasy.

Regarding delusion, for example, the story shows that one has the ability to think such negative thoughts that his whole world could become negative, when really it isn’t. Maybe that’s more a description of depression, but really it begins with those delusional thoughts, untrue and unnecessarily destructive.

Regarding regret, the story shows the robot wondering what could have happened if he had just stayed on the beach towel rather than joyfully jumping into the water with the dog. He relives the scene, wishing he had behaved differently. If he had, his whole world could have been different, back to the way it was. Back with the friend. Back before the loss.

It’s a story of friendship, sure, but way more about lost friendship. I can recall old friends that I haven’t seen in years, separated by moves or life changes and kept distant simply because one or the other doesn’t live on Facebook. It’s sad to consider the loss, yet the memories shared were grand. Some events in past didn’t go as planned, and while there’s sadness, there’s not necessarily regret. And that’s OK. We may not have remained friends forever, yet we did leave marks on each other that are memorable and (quite possibly) eternal.

There’s a special bond in friendship, and when I think of this book in the context of my own kids’ lives, something hits me hard. Because we tend to move a lot—including internationally—they’ve made and lost friends many times over, and it’s always so hard on them. Tearful goodbyes. Awkward reunions. Sudden breaks and new starts. It’s hard on them, and it’s hard on me as a dad to watch. There’s joy, though, in knowing that with each move is also a new beginning: new friends, new bonds, and new experiences that will help shape who my kids will become. This book highlights all of this, yet wordlessly. It’s pretty amazing.

I’ve got to give a shout out to author and artist Sara Varon for the powerful story she’s written through such simple drawings of such cute creatures. This is a masterpiece worth viewing again and again. I highly recommend it.

©2023 E.T.