The Salvation on Sand Mountain Snake Handling and Redemption in Southern Appalachia - Book Report/Review Example

Although sceptical of Summerford’s church at first, Covington gradually comes to appreciate it, and he even traces his own direct ancestral connections to the people he visits and studies.

The account becomes more and more personal as he wrestles with faith and reason and with the excitement that he discovers in the religious gatherings that he increasingly attends as a participant rather than an observer. The book ends with the author’s decision to leave the community behind and return to his previous life – without the snakes and speaking in tongues that he had discovered during this investigation. One of the most interesting attributes of this book is the openness and honesty of the author, which some might categorize as naivety.

Covington approaches his subject in a frame of mind that allows some of the notions that he encounters to capture his imagination. An example of this is the way he describes a real church community as the embodiment of a story he had himself written at the age of nineteen called “Salvation on Sand Mountain.” (Covington, p. 174) He appears to believe that there are invisible and mysterious ties between his own past and his new experiences, perhaps even some element of prophecy. This reveals that he has a religious disposition which makes him susceptible to the rhetoric of the preachers.

Snakes feature very prominently in the text, and they symbolize both danger and faith. They are used by believers as a way of demonstrating faith in God. Being bitten by a rattlesnake and overcoming the poison is also a way of showing one’s faith, although it is clear from the case of Glenn Summerford that this can go badly wrong. At first, Covington struggles to understand the concept that Darlene Summerford drank poison as a matter of routine: “When she was really living right, she drank poison.

What a peculiar idea, the journalist in me thought.” (Covington, p. 42) He accepts this in a non-judgemental fashion, but the rest of the book is an exploration of what this strange behaviour means. Later in the book, the death of Charles Prince from a rattlesnake bite is related. The event is classified as just another of the tragic twists of fate that occur in the South: “Firefights, mining accidents, snakebites. It’s all the same.” (Covington, p. 183) The victim continued to drink poison and handle snakes, even as he lay dying, and the church congregation carried on the next day, leaving him to die.

Covington observes that this is not callousness but rather a way of coping with dreadful events. His analysis is like a summary of the whole book’s message: “The tragedy is not the death of a particular snake handler but the failure of the world to accept the gospel that the handler risked his life to confirm.” (Covington, p. 184) During his long exploration of the snake-handling believers and their community, Covington sinks into their mindset and experiences their adrenalin rush, participating in healing services where people testify, speak in tongues and perform feats of endurance.

Ultimately, however, he reviews his position and comes to a stark realization: “I had found my people. But I had also discovered that I could not be one of them after all. Knowing where you come from is one thing, but it is suicide to stay there.” (Covington, p. 236) The trigger for this thought was a discussion on the role of women in the church (i.e. a subordinate one), which conflicted with the views that Covington, and particularly his wife, had thus far lived by. In the end, the snake-handling church was too far removed from modern values and lifestyles, and this is what prompts him to reject their beliefs.

What remains, however, is a sympathetic account of this beleaguered group and a deep reflection on how the experience of religion and history in the South can still today be very different from the mainstream American experience.