The Monday Book: The Sound of a Wild Snail Eating by Elisabeth Tova Bailey
This charming little book (it can be read in about two hours) was on the shelf at the cabin where I’m holed up getting some writing done. I took it down because it had a pretty drawing on the cover, and read it because it contained the enticing phrase “Viruses are a part of life.”
The premise of the book makes good reading during a pandemic: the author is ill with an unusual condition that started with a virus and progressed to a dysfunctional autonomic nerve system. In essence, she couldn’t sit up because gravity did things to her it didn’t do to the rest of the world. Lying flat with minimal movement was hard for a formerly active and healthy gardener, so when a friend brought her some wild violets in a pot, she picked up a woodland snail for good measure. Why she thought the snail would interest her friend, neither woman could ever say.
But the snail did. At first as confused by its new surroundings as Elisabeth was by hers, stuck in care, dependent on friends to do almost everything for her, the snail began to explore at night, eating pieces of paper and flowers brought by friends of the invalid.
Slowly the author came to understand the snail as she did her own illness; move slower through the world, take time for one’s needs, and appreciate the small miracles. But the book is not so much sentimental as descriptive. Learning how a snail’s foot allows these miraculous little creatures to travel over even razor-thin edges without harm is surprisingly fascinating. Likewise discovering that they can seal themselves into their own shells with a special foot slime, or repair their shells with a different kind of slime.
And then there is snail sex…. did you know they literally sling love darts at one another? They do.
Sometimes the right book comes into our lives at the right time. I’m holed up in an unwired cabin to get some writing done, trying to slow down in a world that has had some strangely enforced slowdowns of late, and yet still wanting to undulate along. Like the snail that Elisabeth found she could actually hear eating, so quiet was her life, I am becoming aware of many new things around me. We all are in this strange new world. So take some time to read about the small things in life – the snails and the viruses – that make up this beautiful, peaceful memoir.
Lovely! Thank you!
Laura Kalpakian Author of The Great Pretenders email@example.com laurakalpakian.com Facebook // Twitter