Fun fact: I once sat in the same chair and spoke on the same TV show about snake handling as Dennis Covington.

Truth be told, we share a lot in common. He studied snake handlers closely, spent time with them, and wrote about them. Where we differ is in how we understand and interpret their world.

When people curious about snake handling ask me what to read, I often hesitate. The obvious answer is Salvation on Sand Mountain — but if I recommend it, I always include a strong caveat.

Without giving too much away, here is my honest review of the book.

If this book were ten chapters long, I wouldn't hesitate. I’d enthusiastically recommend it. As such, I’ll give my compliments before my critiques.

The first ten chapters are the true story of how Dennis Covington immersed himself in a group of snake handlers. It was far from surface-level immersion — he ate with them, stayed with them, and became an active member of the community (though to understand the full extent, I’d encourage you to read for yourself!).

The story is compelling and often beautifully written, and it reveals aspects of snake-handling communities that would be difficult to access otherwise.

Now for that last chapter. It feels almost as if someone else writes it. Covington takes a sharp turn inward, away from ethnography and into autobiography, and in doing so, shifts the focus from the community to himself. I have encountered some readers who found this profound. For others — myself included — it feels like a retreat from the complexity of the world he had worked so hard to enter.

All in all, Salvation on Sand Mountain is a book worth reading if you're interested in Appalachian religion, Pentecostalism, or American spiritual extremities. It’s a flawed but important text. And for those looking to go deeper, I’ll include a critique by religious historian Robert Orsi—recommended to me by a professor—that offers a another valuable lens through which to view Covington’s work.