As Sarah points out in her blog, January 2008 is going to be a big month for serpents:
Suzanne Arruda, The Serpent’s Daughter
Bernard du Boucheron, The Voyage of the Short Serpent
Ariana Franklin, The Serpent’s Tale
This reminded me of my earlier post about the heavy representation of bastards in historical fiction. So (as it’s 86 degrees at 11:15 p.m., down from 103 degrees this afternoon, and my brain is fried), why not change serpents to bastards?
The Bastard’s Daughter
The Voyage of the Short Bastard
The Bastard’s Tale
Eager for some more (courtesy again of Sarah and Library Thing)?
Boudica Four: Dreaming the Bastard Spear
A Dream of Fair Bastards
Feathered Bastard
The Jewelled Bastard
Madame Bastard
The Poisoned Bastard
Bastard and Storm
The Bastard and the Moon
The Bastard Dreamer
The Bastard Garden
The Bastard in the Garden
The Bastard on the Crown
The Bastards of Harbledown
The Bastard’s Tooth
The Subtle Bastard
Twilight Rising, Bastard’s Dream
Alas, my own Library Thing shelf shows that my library is completely lacking in serpents. I do, however, own a copy of Bastard King. Which may prove something, but I probably won’t be able to figure it out until the temperature drops another ten degrees.
Funny post. From my shelves:
Bastard by Clive Cussler
The Subtle Bastard by Peter Tremayne
Bastard Mage by Wise and Hickman
Where Bastards Lie by T. Jefferson Parker.
I’d think it’d be awfully hard to be subtle AND be a bastard.
Even if it’s taken in the sense of ‘illegitimate’? How about Edmund in King Lear?
This is true. I suppose Henry Fitzroy would also fit (you never hear much about him), but the Duke of Monmouth wouldn’t.