Clifford D. Simak: Way Station (1963)

Possibly one of the most original plots ever conceived within the often astonishing SF frame. Way Station is a somewhat forgotten classic from 1963 which will surprise the reader with a strange, if perfectly defined, scenario.

Over the last decades, Clifford D. Simak has lost much of the popularity he used to enjoy among readers of the genre. In the 1970s, the Wisconsin-born master had been included among a handful of greatest SF writers. He is in any case responsible for some of the most important classics in scientific fiction, a branch of literature so full of ideas and clever designs of the future. Even though many of the Simak works (including his best) could be a bit difficult to get hold of today, at least outside the second-hand book market. 

Simak is a representative for what was called no less than "pastoral" science fiction, a label that can give the reader a clue on the nature of his universe. In Simak´s novels we may have characters inserted in an American mid-west rural environment, fond of traditions of country life and with a longing for a long gone past, this being mixed up with an unmistakable SF atrezzo. In Way Station we will have alien races, a inmense galactic background and an inconceivable technology sharing stage with nature, country landscapes and in some case a mid19th century nostalgia. A funny mixture.

Way Station tells the story of Enoch Wallace, a veteran from the American Civil War. Problem is he is now living in 1962 (the time Simak writes) which means that the civil war was a hundred years ago, which means that the guy should be something like 120 o 130. But he doesn´t look any older than, say, 30. During all these years and decades, he has been regarded as a distant figure by his fellow country mates, who have of course noted that there is something really weird with the youngish centenarian. But as Simak suggests, in deep rural America, people do not give a second thought on stuff wich is not of their bussiness.

So here we have this Wallace who never ages, who has memories from the 1860s, who has inhabited the same old family farm for all those years. He walks out every morning carring a rifle he never uses. He small talks with a a couple or three people here and there, including the postman who delivers to him letters, commercial leaflets, and subscription scientific magazines. And that is it. 

We soon learn of his secret. His old midwest rural farm is not at all what it seems. It is a country house only from the outside, as it is actually a way station, no less: one galactic station which serves as a kind of changing post for interstellar travelers, of alien races from all corners of the galaxy. Wallace is the station guard and his duty is to greet the travelers and take care of their needs, like a cosmic hotel host. Through those alien peoples, he will interact with many cultures and visions of the universe, political and social systems, traditions, literature and science.

Of course, Way Station is a product of  the time it was written, the 1960s, which means that one of the main concerns of Wallace (along with the rest of the Galaxy) is the possibility of the self destruction of the human race as a result of nuclear war. Some math-based alien sociology that Wallace learnt from some star visitors he once hosted, has proved him (through complex developments never glimpsed by humans) that devastation is coming.

Underneath his appearance of a country guy, Enoch has in his hands all the Galaxy's richness, sources of artistic culture as well as scientific knowledge that no one on Earth can imagine. Closer to the poetic tone of a Bradbury than to the hard scientific touch of a Stephen Baxter, Way Station evokes the immensity of the universe in a pleasant scene of lakes and trees and mountains. It is also a reminder of what rich complex lifes could be led by ordinary, apparently grey, lonely people. 

Way Station, 1963. Clifford D Simak