The Sound of a Wild Snail Eating

The Sound of a Wild Snail Eating is the 2010 autobiographical nature-memoir written by Elisabeth Tova Bailey. Set over the course of one year in a studio apartment in Massachusetts, Bailey recounts her miserable time bedridden by a mysterious illness she contracted during a trip to Europe. Depressed, infirmed and without a reason for living, everything changes when a friend brings a pot of wild violets to cheer Bailey up. Inside the pot of violets happens to be a common forest snail – Neohelix Albolabris. Cautious at first, Bailey slowly finds a sense of purpose, meaning, and restorative strength in the snail’s companionship. Thematically, the memoir explores nature, nurturing, illness, wellness, cohabitation, companionship, mind over matter, and the awesome healing power of connectivity. The Sound of a Wild Snail Eating earned a number of awards, including the National Outdoor Book Award (2010), The John Burroughs Medal (2011), and The William Saroyan International Prize for Nonfiction (2012).

Narrated in the first person by Bailey, the book begins with our protagonist updating her medical status. Until the age of 34, Bailey had been physically active her entire life. She enjoyed gardening, hiking, sailing, walking in the woods, etc. But after contracting an unknown viral or bacterial infection during a brief trip to Europe, her health rapidly deteriorates. Bailey is moved from her home to a studio apartment in Massachusetts where she’s cared for. Despite numerous tests and medical evaluations, the doctors cannot determine the cause of Bailey’s neurological illness. Therefore, no cure exists. Confined to her bed, hardly able to sit up, Bailey recalls the deep-seeded depression that sank in following her undiagnosed condition. Isolated, immobile, dispirited, Bailey’s will to live has vanished, her sense of purpose robbed.

Then a friend visits one day and places a terra cotta pot of field violets on Bailey’s bedside nightstand. Inside the pot, the violets are accompanied by a common woodland snail. Bailey isn’t so enthused about the idea at first. She doesn’t even know whether the snail is alive or dead. But over time, during nighttime observation (Bailey realizes snails are nocturnal), Bailey becomes all-consumed by the snail’s sharp decisiveness, striking anatomical makeup, mysterious defense mechanisms, hydraulic movement, complex courting and mating methods. As she begins learning about and caring for the snail, a profound friendship is forged that revitalizes Bailey’s sense of worth in the world.



Bailey recalls the first night spent with the snail, watching the graceful nocturnal creature slide down the flowerpot and forage for food. Bailey is mesmerized by the gently waving tentacles of the snail, the languid pace at which it glides, and the sheer determination of its movement. Bailey even admits: “the tiny, intimate sound of the snail eating gave me a distinct feeling of companionship and shared space.” Bailey notices perfect little square-holes bitten out paper leaflets strewn on her nightstand. Determining that the snail may need real food, Bailey begins placing half-dead violet petals in the pot for the snail to eat. Bailey notes how the snail refuses to eat the healthy leaves that provide sleeping shade in the pot, preferring half-rotten petals instead.

Bailey even notices how the snail dislikes an extra soil patch added to the pot by Bailey’s caretaker. Bailey exchanges the soil for humus and finds the snail back in its place, sound asleep. This thrills Bailey to no end. As she begins to care for the snail and provide it with sustenance, Bailey begins to gain a newfound sense of purpose. As she puts it: “if life mattered to the snail and the snail mattered to me, it meant something in my life mattered, so I kept on.” As the snail grows bigger and more adventurous, it begins straying further away from the pot. As a result, Bailey moves the snail into a large terrarium where it can roam freely without getting lost or harmed.

In between the memoirs of regenerative personal connection made with the snail, Bailey includes pages of scientific research about the mollusks, as well as literary writings about the specific genus of gastropods dating back centuries. Bailey cites a 12-part edition called Mollusca, which equips her with a better scientific understanding of her new health-reviving companion. Bailey notes the ways in which snails live, move, eat, reproduce, defend, and adapt. For example, Bailey learns snails have thousands of teeth, and that they can mate with themselves. She also learns snails can use their sense of smell to find calcium.



Throughout her recollections, Bailey includes haikus from old masters such as Japanese poet Kobayashi Issa, as well as writing from American biologist Edward O. Wilson. Charles Darwin and Edgar Allan Poe are also cited. These excerpts provide context for the way snails have been perceived for centuries, and showcase the florid writings of early naturalists on the subject. For example, the phrase “humble abode” literally translates in Mandarin Chinese as “snail’s house.” By the end of the book, Bailey considers herself one with these poets and naturalists who happily spend countless hours observing their friendly little creatures.

Bailey continues looking after the snail for one year, giving it mushrooms and other foliage to consume. In the end of the memoir, Bailey notes how her improved health begins to detract from her attention given to the snail. As her old world beckons, Bailey can no longer live at the snail’s pace. Bailey ultimately returns the snail to its natural environment. While not fully recovered physically, Bailey is on course to make a gradual recuperation. Bailey’s final challenge is to never forget what the snail meant to her slow physical and spiritual rehabilitation. As Bailey puts it: “A last look at the stars and then to sleep. Lots to do at whatever pace I can go. I must remember the snail. Always remember the snail.”

The Sound of a Wild Snail Eating was called “exquisite” by The Huffington Post and “brilliant” by The New York Review of Books.