Too often I’ll finish a novel and think, “I wish that was just a little shorter. If the editor could have excised twenty or so pages I feel it would be a tighter story.” Very rarely do I feel a book would be improved by more. Way Station by Clifford D. Simak is one of those books. It is a quick read that I wish was a little slower.
The absolute strength of Way Station is Simak’s ability to create and describe unique alien beings, foods, and gadgets. The novel’s plot follows a human named Enoch Wallace who operates the only way station on Earth, one link in a series of stations that allow aliens of so many species to traverse the galaxy. During his time as station master, Enoch meets aliens from hundreds of different planets and this is where Simak shines.
All the traveling aliens are so different but still written well. Enoch talks to and even befriends many of the travelers but it never feels like one species is an off-brand model of another. Some are humanoid, some are blobs. Some can sit and drink Earth coffee, some need to stay submerged in tanks full of alien liquids. Enoch’s friendliness garners respect from these travelers and soon the aliens begin bringing him gifts and trinkets from the far reaches of the cosmos. They all seem to know (Enoch is relatively famous as the only human in this galactic fraternity) what kinds of foods is able to consume and make it a point to bring him some if they are planning a long layover. Enoch’s mailman likes to whittle and this story gets out so some aliens bring samples of exotic wood from their home planets. And the gadgets, so many toys and gadgets. Some are simply decorative, some are music boxes, most Enoch has no idea how they work. I want more of all this.
I think another ten to twenty pages spread throughout the book, not a whole new chapter, describing some of this alienness would be wonderful. Most of the alien or gift descriptions come as short sidebar to whatever plot point is currently happening, a couple sentences or a quick paragraph. There are chapters dedicated to Enoch’s Hazer alien friends which are necessary due to the Hazers importance to the ultimate conflict. Too often alien technology devolves into irrelevant technobabble. But Simak has the gift of being able to describe these unique and wondrous things in a way that a human, a less educated being, would see them.
My take: Simak is writing about friendship and respect, not about aliens. Gifts are not tools, gifts are representations of good vibes. If I want a nice pair of performance wicking socks, I will do the research. I can look up and see the socks recommended by marathon runners or hunters. But if my friend gives me a pair of socks emblazoned with my favorite team’s logo, I won’t say “Oh cotton? Cotton kills you know.” That would the move of a person who does not get many gifts because they’re a jerk. Instead I would act how Simak describes Enoch. I would occasionally see those socks in my daily life and spend a minute or two remembering my friend. Enoch does try to decipher some uses of the gifts, but mostly he appreciates the care from his visitors and feels no guilt using the gift in the “wrong” way if the “wrong” way brings him joy and good memories.
The Keasy Depot 