A spellbinding scientific and cultural study of snakes, the fascination and fear they inspire, and how surprising new science is indelibly changing our perception of these stunning and frightening creatures.
For millennia, depictions of snakes as alternatively beautiful and menacing creatures have appeared in religious texts, mythology, poetry, and beyond. From the foundational deities of ancient Egypt to the reactions of squeamish schoolchildren today, it is a historically commonplace belief that snakes are devious, dangerous, and even evil. But where there is hatred and fear, there is also fascination and reverence. How is it that creatures so despised and sinister, so foreign of movement and ostensibly devoid of sociality and emotion, have fired the imaginations of poets, prophets, and painters across time and cultures?
In SLITHER, science writer Stephen S. Hall presents a naturalistic, cultural, ecological, and scientific meditation on these loathed yet magnetic creatures. In each chapter, he explores a biological aspect of The Snake, such as their cold blooded metabolism and venomous nature, alongside their mythology, artistic depictions, and cultural veneration. In doing so, he explores not only what neurologically triggers our wary fascination with these limbless creatures, but also how the current generation of snake scientists is using cutting-edge technologies to discover new truths about these evolutionarily ancient creatures—truths that may ultimately affect and enhance human health.
For nearly three decades, Stephen S. Hall has written about the intersection of science and society in books, magazine articles, and essays. He is the author, most recently, of Wisdom: From Philosophy to Neuroscience (2010), which grew out of a 2007 cover article in The New York Times Magazine.
His previous books include Size Matters: How Height Affects the Health, Happiness, and Success of Boys—and the Men They Become (2006), Merchants of Immortality: Chasing the Dream of Human Life Extension (2003), A Commotion in the Blood: Life, Death, and the Immune System (1997), Mapping the Next Millennium: How Computer-Driven Cartography Is Revolutionizing the Face of Science (1992), and Invisible Frontiers: The Race to Synthesize a Human Gene (1987). Most titles were acknowledged as a “Notable Book of the Year” by the New York Times Book Review.
Hall has received numerous awards, including the “Science in Society Award” in 2004 for book writing from the National Association of Science Writers for Merchants of Immortality, which was also a finalist for a Los Angeles Times Book Award, and the William B. Coley Award in 1998 from the Cancer Research Institute for A Commotion in the Blood. His work has also been widely anthologized, including in Best American Science Writing (2000, 2001, 2008, 2009), A Literary Companion to Science (1990), and The Beholder’s Eye (2005).
Between 1997 and 2000, Hall served as an editor of the New York Times Magazine as well as a Contributing Writer, and has published numerous cover stories for the Magazine. In addition to the New York Times, his journalism has appeared in the Atlantic Monthly, National Geographic, New York, Science, The New Yorker, Technology Review, Scientific American, Discover, Smithsonian, and many other national publications. His essays and criticism have appeared in The New York Times Book Review, Orion, and the Hastings Center Report.
In addition to writing, Hall teaches science journalism and explanatory journalism at the Graduate School of Journalism at Columbia University, and also conducts writing workshops for scientists-in-training at New York University’s Carter Institute of Journalism. His many public appearances include a keynote address at the Keystone Symposium, grand rounds at university medical centers, lectures at the Hastings Center, and readings that have been featured on “Book TV.”
Hall graduated as an honors student in English literature from Beloit College in 1973, and lives in Brooklyn, New York with his wife and two children.
یه کتاب علمی باید فارغ از جهت گیری باشه. مخصوصاً جهت گیریهای تاریخمصرفدارِ سیاسی. متاسفانه آقای هال به طرز تَورمزایی در پی ارتباط دادن مسائل علمی به دیدگاههای سیاسی-اجتماعی خودشه و این باعث شده از مجموع ۴۰۰ صفحه کتاب بیشتر از ۲۵۰ صفحه به مسائل جانبی اختصاص داده بشه. این می تونست قابل تحمل باشه اگه قلم ایشون گیرا و نثرشون دلنشین. بارها و بارها ایشون از شخصیتهای بسیار کاریزماتیک یا رویدادهای بیاندازه هیجانانگیز علمی که پتانسیل تبدیل شدن به یه داستانگویی ژورنالیستی محشرو داشتن، با یه سرخمکردن کوتاه و سلام سرسری عبور میکنه و هر بار حسرت میخوردم که چرا کسی مثل اِد یونگ به این موضوع جذاب نپرداخته. یه مشکل دیگهی تفکر آقای هال مربوط میشه به مسیری که ایشون انتخاب کرده برای ترومازُدایی از مارها در مخاطبش؛ ایشون تلاش میکنه با تاباندن صفات "پسندیده"ی انسانی به مارها، اونا رُ موجه جلوه بده. اینجا دو تا مشکل پیش میاد: ۱- مارها احتیاجی به موجه بودن ندارن. هیچ موجود زندهای نداره. طبیعت هست و برای بودنش گناهی نکرده. ۲- چرا باید ویژگیهای مورد پسند ما انسانها مثل مِهر مادری به حیوانات دیگه که استراتژیهای زیستی متفاوتی دارن، قِداست بده؟
لازمه بدونید جاهایی که از مطالعات علمی یاد میشد یا مشاهدات مستقیم نویسنده اومده بود، کم و بیش قابل تحمل بود. اما اغلب لذت من از کتاب مربوط میشد به تموم شدن اون چپتر خاص و گردش خودم توی سایتهای مختلف تا اطلاعات مختصر و بی روح کتابو بیشتر بررسی کنم و از دنیای این خزندههای مظلومواقع شده بیشتر مطلع بشم. اشکال دیگه کتاب، عدم وجود تصاویر بود که برای یه کتاب مثل این و درک بهتر مخاطب از مطالب، واجبه.
واقعا متاسفم که این کتاب نوشته شده چون بازار کتاب فعلا دیکته میکنه راه برای کتابهای بهتر که به مارها بپردازن تا مدت زیادی بسته بشه و این فرصتسوزی قابل بخشش نیست.
راستی! مثل هر کتاب علمی دیگهای اینجا هم خالی از شاهکارهای هموطن ایرانی نبود. مادر ایرانی، فرزند خودش که یه محقق بلندپایه ست رُ جلو کلی پروفسر دیگه دعوا میکنه که چرا بیاجازه پاشد رفته روی مارها تحقیق کنه. از این کتاب و تحقیقاتی که کردم کُلی نکات باحال دارم که اگه دوست داشتید خصوصی پیام بدید و بگید تا براتون ازشون بنویسم. نمی خوام اینجا رُ زیادی شلوغ کنم؛ این کتاب ارزش نقل قول نداره.
3.5 I listened to the book; I didn't like the narrator, which may have decreased my enjoyment.
It's is a broadly researched book, lots of information. But the information was tucked into rather stretched human situations - the Egyptians, people dying of snake bites, the feistiness of a female herpetologist. To me, it all seemed rather posed: I've set the scene, now take the picture.
Best for me was the chapter on snake movement. Chapter on snake antivenoms was good. The pythons moving north from Florida is alarming in terms of wildlife. But... the information never grabbed me -- I never stopped after a chapter and thought, wow, that's great, I need to learn more.
Maybe I'm just not a snake person. For snake people, I gather that this is a great read.
Each year, an estimated 30,000 dogs in the U.S. are bitten by venomous snakes. Last month, my dog Murphy became one of them. We let him out before bed, as we always do, and he came back limping, unable to put weight on his back leg. Within minutes, his paw swelled, and two small puncture wounds made the cause unmistakable: a snake bite. Thankfully, we rushed him to the emergency vet, and he’s made a full recovery. Still, I’d be lying if I said the thought of snakes lurking in my backyard doesn’t unsettle me. Like many people, I grew up believing the best snake was a dead snake.
In his newest book Slither, Stephen S. Hall shows just how common—and deeply ingrained—those fears are. But he also challenges them, arguing that if we took the time to understand snakes, our fear might shift into a deeper understanding.
As we look back through history, it’s no wonder snakes have been both reviled and revered. From the sacred deities of ancient Egypt to the cautionary tales of the Garden of Eden, serpents have slithered their way through mythology, art, and religion. Stephen S. Hall traces this complex relationship with precision, showing how the enigma of snakes—their beauty, danger, and mystery—has shaped human culture for millennia. But what makes Slither most compelling is the way Hall blends that rich history with cutting-edge science.
For better or worse, much of what we now know about snakes has only come to light in recent decades. For centuries, fear and superstition kept us from asking what we might learn from them. Hall highlights startling discoveries. He shows how pythons, for instance, spend most of their lives in metabolic stillness, with their stomachs at a pH similar to that of water—only to completely rewire their biology after a massive meal. Their organs grow and regenerate at astonishing rates before shrinking back to normal, a process scientists believe could unlock clues about metabolism and tissue repair. And that’s only scratching the surface.
Slither is a sweeping, comprehensive study that weaves science and biology with mythology, artistic depictions, and cultural fascination. Hall captures the wonder of what we still don’t fully understand, from snakes’ mysterious mating habits to their resilience against biological swings that would kill most other animals. He also explores the long-term consequences of human interference, like the exploding population of non-native Burmese pythons in Florida. By the end, I found myself with a healthier respect for snakes. I’m still wary of them, but Hall convinced me of their vital place in our world and the importance of continuing to study them.
Slither was a wildly fascinating and deeply researched book that completely transformed the way I think about snakes and other misunderstood creatures. Hall dives into the science, mythology, and cultural history surrounding these animals, showing just how important they are to our world. The book was eye-opening in so many ways, and Hall’s passion for the subject is infectious. This easily could have been a five-star read for me, but I found that at times the science became a little overwhelming. Some sections were packed with technical information that I struggled to fully understand everything being discussed. That said, it never took away from my overall enjoyment, and I appreciated how much effort Hall put into thoroughly exploring every aspect of his topic. My favorite chapter was the one focused on snake venom: it was absolutely fascinating to learn how many critical medicines have been developed from venom and how much we owe to these creatures for treatments we often take for granted. It gave me a new level of respect and gratitude for snakes and reminded me just how interconnected we are with the natural world. Slither is a captivating read that will open your eyes to the wonders of nature’s most maligned creatures, and I highly recommend it to anyone who loves animals, science, or simply wants to see snakes in a whole new light.
I felt like this book did a wonderful job of providing an overveiw of the biology and natural history of snakes and presenting it in a way that embraced curiosity and awe over caution and cheap thrills. As a reader with a fair amount of experience working with snakes, there was a significant amount of the information that wasn't new to me, but I still found the writing style to be entertaining, and enjoyed seeing another well presented take on these topics. I was also able to glean quite a bit of new information about certain aspects of serpentine biology and behavior!
So, I mostly liked—and really enjoyed—this fascinating book.
(As a casual fan of snakes and a once resident of south Florida who shared a lot of space with them and thus developed a healthy respect for them, I feel like it would be a shame not to support a book about these majestically slinky creatures.)
Some questionable anthropomorphizing here and there aside, I think this book does a clear and compelling job of introducing readers to the wonderful—and often weird—world of snakes.
A majority of layman readers would definitely leave this book knowing more about herpetology—and hopefully appreciating these too often maligned reptiles more.
Every chapter introduces a different adaptation or aspect of snakes and proceeds to discuss some curated history or research related to that topic. Through this approach, readers get a broad, but pretty “all-around” glimpse into what makes snakes so special—biologically, culturally, etc.
I definitely leave this book with a reinvigorated curiosity of snakes—and the world of reptiles beyond.
That said, I do have *some* critiques.
First, I find it odd how this author brings up several once renowned herpetologists who are now reviled/held in contempt for their racist, misogynistic, etc. views—which are quite detailed in this book—before, in a roundabout way, saying that their valuable contributions to the field somewhat lessen those issues?
The author himself certainly doesn’t condone these viewpoints (as evidenced by his commentary in support of progressive politics sprinkled throughout). But, I get the feeling he doesn’t want to offend any herpetologists who can excuse the racism and misogyny. (To which I say—offend them, Stephen.)
But still.
This author almost bends over backwards to explain these awful men in the name of science while under-critiquing and under-exploring all the systemic ways in which women and POC have been prevented from more actively participating in this field. I highly doubt it’s just a “matter of interest”.
He talks about it early in the book but, aside from really one anecdote with Emily Taylor(?), the sexism in the field is more of a footnote.
Anyway.
The hands-down, most perplexing thing about this whole book is how western, Eurocentric it is.
Especially for a book that brings up so many snake species from Africa, Asia, and South America and just how much science relies on those snakes, you’d think more of the research, history, and cultural references would be diverse—and you’d be wrong.
Nah—we’re talking about the Ancient Greeks and Romans.
Every man really is obsessed with the Roman Empire, aren’t they?
I couldn’t stop thinking about that meme every time this book found a way to circle back to the ancient Greeks and Romans.
I mean, I just feel like there have to be groups of people from other places where there are a lot of “medically significant” snakes that have them embedded in their culture and belief systems in ways that speak to contemporary understandings of the world.
Anyway, anyway.
I guess I digress.
Those critiques aren’t necessarily about the substance of this book—which, again, I think is solid. Nor are the critiques about the author himself—who I believe is a good person with (perhaps) a few blind spots.
I’d still recommend this book for any fans of snakes or readers who enjoy pop science books that broaden their knowledge on different, curious corners of our big, wide world~
Granted, I am absolutely the right target audience for this book. I spent my first two years after graduating studying snakes. I have handled over a hundred snakes in my life and I think they are absolutely fascinating. Needless to say, this book was a great read for me.
Thank you Grand Central for this complimentary copy.
This was ok minus the political commentary. The most interesting chapter was the last chapter on Florida pythons. Oh and apparently female snakes have a clitoris.
4.5 stars - I can't really think of anything to complain about with this eco-memoir/bio
Special kudos go to this man for spending a considerable amount of the book pointing out the sexist, chauvinistic, and consequentially myopic history of the herpetologist community. One of the glaring examples of how this imbalance negatively affects the general population's understanding of scientific knowledge: In the 1800s there were all-male teams of scientists recording their discovery that male snakes have two penises, which they called hemi-penes. The men didn’t even bother looking into the corresponding genitalia of the female snakes. Only just in the 2020's has there been a team of all-women herpetologists who intuitively thought to look at the form and function of female snake genitals, and they learned that they actually have two clitorises! The implications of these nerve-dense "hemi-clitores" combined with the sometimes 24-hour long copulation sessions snakes have, and the advanced chemical mechanisms they've developed to prevent less desirable sperm from fertilizing their eggs (similar, but not identical, to what humans' reproductive systems do without us consciously willing them to) are startling and would send Aristotle's head spinning.
Whether you have a deep-seated phobia of snakes like many people do (and which is rooted in our evolutionary survival instincts) or you're already a lover of elegant, slithering serpents, I highly recommend this book.
A fascinating book that covers all aspects of snakes. Slither showcases how these creatures have captured our fascination (or disgust!) since the dawn of man. There were interesting connections to mythology, medicine, and ecology littered throughout this book.
I also really enjoyed the between chapter "breaks" of the various "Snake Roads". I believe even people who detest snakes should give this book a shot. Who knows, you may gain a new appreciation for these wondrous creatures.
Overall, an easy and fun read that gave me a greater appreciation for one of my favorite critters.
A decent entry in the pop-science canon. It reads how you’d expect: like an expanded hot take, sprinkled with some science-y surprises, with the tone set to “mildly intriguing” and the pace set at “keep it rolling.” It’s not a book that lingers in the mind, but it delivers what it’s meant to deliver.
I will say that I was one of those people who had assumed snakes were evolutionarily quite simple, and I no longer see them that way. A few of those info-nuggets have even stuck with me so, you know, well done.
There's some interesting new information about snakes, interspersed with lots of uninteresting background about various herpetologists and their career paths. Hall also spends a lot of time blaming ophidiophobia on the church and religion. I don't think a story like Adam and Eve is the reason most people viscerally don't like snakes. Many people don't like cockroaches. Where's that in the Bible?
The book is less about snakes themselves than social attitudes toward herpetology (not to mention social issues in general. Seven pages, no kidding, about what a racist dirtbag E.D. Cope was and how the American Society of Ichthyologists and Herpetologists arrived at the decision to change the title of their journal). He brings up Sean Hannity and Tucker Carlson complaining about funding going to snake research. Because I really wanted to know what those two think, just like I would totally give the time of day to flat-earth theories.
Hall seems to be trying to build the argument that snakes are an interesting scientific subject (why wouldn't they be?) deliberately on social and political fault lines for some reason. If you have conservative or Judeo-Christian sympathies, you're not supposed to like snakes. Just like if you're a girl, you're not supposed to like math. I found this book irritating.
I really wanted to love this but I think the topic was a little too broad and the organization of information was a bit scattered. The last third felt closer to what I wanted from the book. It isn't bad, but I feel like it could have been better.
Ssssssssssuper sssssssssatisssssfying read! Very interesting read, a fun mash of anthropology, snake biology, biography, and road ecology. While the science information and studies about snakes were wonderful and exciting to read, the interspersed essays about streets/roads/road ecology were the surprise gooey center. I mean duh, roads even look like snakes from above! Absolutely fabulous read, you will think about every chapter for weeks after reading, every vignette and character are unforgettable.
Great book for snake enthusiasts.A nice combination of science (everything you needed to know about snake vaginas and robots based on sidewinders,) lore(Aesclepius or Quetzalcoatl , among many others, ) and thrill factor ( anyone up for being bitten by a snake after it’s been decapitated!)Author keeps it simple, avoiding jargon and neither going over readers heads nor speaking down to them. Great read!
Unfortunately like many science-journalist books, this is more about the people who love snakes and not the snakes themselves. I read half and then lost interest as the scales tipped more and more heavily towards humans.
Fantastic book. It’s always rare to see books about reptiles… so I have to jump at the opportunity to support them. Well done and really cool cultural research done. A good mix of science, culture and anecdotes that do such a polarizing animal justice.
Absolutely LOVED this book. It started out good and got progressively better and better, with the last 1/3 being fantastic as it dealt with the Florida Everglades and the pythons that were dumped there over the past 50+ years. One of my top 5 books of 2025.
My granddaughter got a pet ball python so of course I had to read a book about snakes to learn more. While most of the people cited in the book are scientists, Hall presented their work in a way that laypersons (and the fearful) can understand their research and experiments. Quite fascinating, especially the chapter on snake reproduction where the mostly male herpetologists conducted research on male snakes. But it took a female scientist to determine that female snakes have clitorises! Lo and behold, female snakes can have pleasurable sex! On top of that, a number of snakes are intersex (possess both male and female genitalia), and some are even transgender with some males adopting female behavior.
The author also explored the role of snakes in religion and culture. Snakes were deified in pagan religions however Christianity considers them evil (remember Adam and Eve were expelled from Eden over a snake.) Recommend for those who want to learn more about this often vilified creature.
The book will remind you or teach you why snakes are fascinating creatures. Written for the layperson but with enough science to keep things interesting.
3.5/5 I love my slithery bois and loved all the information in this book! It was very dense, so a little hard to get through, but I’m glad I took the time to read it 😌 ASK ME ABOUT SNAKE CLITORISES 🐍
I wanted to like this book a lot more than I did. Slither has some interesting commentary on humanity's mixed relationships with snakes, but I feel I got neither the deep sociological perspective nor the deep scientific examination of snake life and behavior that I would have liked. Instead, I got an enthusiastic but mid-level examination of both.