LrGon is the chronicler of the Histories of Earth and the narrator of Robot Dawn. As he explains in the first chapter, he flourishes some five billion years in the future at the time of Earth’s demise. How is this possible?
Of course, this is possible because Robot Dawn is a science fiction novel. Some readers might confuse the narrator with the author. But even when the narrator claims to be the author, the narrator is still a narrative construct created by the author and is a character as much as any of his other characters. Although generally LrGon remains in the background, his “voice” can be heard most clearly when pontificating on the general state of the Solar System in 2070 or when explaining how things came to be the way they are.
LrGon is tens of thousands of years old, much older even than most of his kind. He has what today we would call human form. He is tall, thin and wiry, and fit. He wears a hooded cape, usually red with black interior, and his bearing is reminiscent of Ming the Merciless of the old Flash Gordon serials played by Charles B. Middleton, although LrGon is kindhearted and reflective, and Ming was, well, merciless. If he was to somehow show up on the big screen, I would like him to be played by an aged Harrison Ford. As LrGon states, he is a progeny of Daisy Daniels and all those in the 21st century who worked so hard to bring self-awareness to robots. He has what we today might term “superpowers,” although they are of the paranormal variety. We also might infer that he once had the capability of traveling through time but seems to have lost the ability with age. Lrgon is a starbot, or at least a derivative of them. To understand this, you’ll have to read the novel.
How does the author receive his inspiration from LrGon? That is a complex process and not something to get into unless you have more than a casual interest. To learn more, you should take a look at my two books, Novelsmithing and in particular Story Alchemy.
[Snippets of information will be added to this body of information about LrGon as time goes on. I hope to flesh out my narrator’s story as I build Robot Dawn. These snippets are creative episodes from a process called Active Imagination that are in fact visits to LrGon. It’s described in detail in Story Alchemy.]
I see the lady in white, Mnemosyne, on the balcony. She takes the key from the drawer, and goes through the sliding glass door into the family room, through the hall and into the foyer. She approaches the Iris of Time and hands the key to the Guardian of the Gate. She turns to look back at me and smiles, which she has never done before. The Guardian inserts the key and turns it. The Iris slides open. Another young woman awaits me inside the Imaginarium. This is Calliope, muse of epic poetry. She then dissolves, and standing before me is LrGon, my narrator with his long flowing robe and dark black mustache and beard. The interior of the Imaginarium has been transformed. It’s not the bland hovel where I have visited him in the past, which turns out to have been a prison cell. He has been incarcerated because he revealed secrets that have been kept for thousands of years. That is the reason we haven’t been communicating as directly as we should. He was released to home confinement under the auspices of his daughter, Nyloh, who reminds me of a character in Riven, the sequel to Myst.
Nyloh is another matter. Although LrGon is the principal narrator of Robot Dawn, Nyloh also plays a part. She frequently chides her father about his cluelessness concerning the nature of female humans, dawnbots, and starbots, and she at times takes over the narration when it primarily concerns the feelings and internal dialogue of the preadolescent protagonist, Daisy Daniels.
LrGon has made favorable progress negotiating the declassification of the forbidden knowledge. I visit him now in his home much closer to the center of the galaxy than is Earth. He has lived here for the last thousand years. His home is in the middle of a forest, jungle actually, with the surroundings of shrubs and tall redwoods. Animals both large and small scurry about but are oblivious to us. They never enter the bubble which is the Imaginarium. His daughter enters from time to time bringing us tea and coffee, perhaps a snack, but she’s no servant, and in fact she is a diplomat who negotiates treaties for land use on their small planet. Although he is elderly, he enjoys good health, for the most part. “And now for our story,” he says, obviously eager to get to work.