世界著名短篇敘事小說

㈠ 世界上著名的短篇小說，一定要短

雨果： 克洛德.格
歐文： 鬼新郎
左拉： 陪襯人
都德： 三部大彌撒內
哈代： 富於想容象的婦人
海涅： 帕格尼尼
普希金： 黑桃皇後
莫泊桑： 蠻子大媽
梅里美： 伊爾的美神
狄更斯： 窮人的專利
果戈理： 舊式的地主
司各特： 流浪漢威利的故事
契科夫： 寶貝兒
高爾基： 切爾卡希
巴爾扎克： 不為人知的傑作
馬克.吐溫 田納西的新聞界
傑克.倫敦 變節者
屠格涅夫： 總管
歐. 亨利 愛的犧牲

㈡ 請推薦一些敘事性強的世界名著

下面都是：抄
《紅與黑》司湯達
《霧都孤兒》狄更斯
《飄》瑪格麗特
《基督山伯爵》大仲馬
《雙城記 》查爾斯·狄更斯
《老人與海》 海明威
《悲慘世界》 雨果
《牛虻》 伏尼契
《苔絲》 哈代
《高龍巴》 梅里美
《綠野仙蹤》 萊曼·弗蘭·鮑姆
《湯姆·索亞歷險記》 馬克·吐溫
《野性的呼喚》 傑克·倫敦
《驚婚記》 瓦爾特·司各特
樓上的看過我說的這幾部小說嗎?無語了，只好加幾部。
《傲慢與偏見》簡·奧斯丁
《海底兩萬里》《80天環游地球》儒勒·凡爾納
《金銀島》斯蒂文森
《尼爾斯騎鵝歷險記》塞爾瑪·拉格洛芙
《海上勞工》《笑面人》維克多·雨果
《了不起的蓋茨比》傑拉德
《格里佛游記》 斯威夫特
《豐饒之海》 三島由紀夫
《三個火槍手》 大仲馬

㈢ 推薦外國一些著名中短篇小說家及其作品

奠泊桑，法國批判現實主義作家，著有300 篇短篇和長篇小說，代表作有《羊脂球》、《俊友》等，課文收有《項鏈》，《我的叔叔於勒》等。

莎士比亞，英國文藝復興時期偉大的劇作家和詩人。流傳劇本37 部，長詩兩首，十四行詩154 首，代表作品有《羅密歐與朱麗葉》、《哈姆雷特》、《奧賽羅》、《李爾王》等。

契訶夫，19 世紀末期俄國傑出的批判現實主義作家，舉世聞名的短篇小說巨匠和著名的劇作家，代表作有短篇小說《套中人》、《變色龍》、《哀傷》、《苦惱》、《萬卡》等，劇本《萬尼亞舅舅》、《伊凡諾夫》、《海鷗》、《櫻桃園》等。

高爾基，偉大的無產階級作家，前蘇聯社會主義文學奠基人。著有《高爾基全集》69 卷。其中著名的作品有自傳體三部曲《童年》、《在人間》、《我的大學》等，《母親》是他的代表作。

馬克·吐溫，美國傑出的批判現實主義作家，代表作有《鍍金時代》、《湯姆·索亞歷險記》、《哈克貝利·費恩歷險記》，晚年著有《敗壞了赫德萊保的人》。

歐·亨利，美國短篇小說家，著有《麥琪的禮物》、《警察與贊美詩》、《最後的藤葉》等。

伏契克，捷克斯洛伐克民族英雄、新聞記者、作家，著有《親愛的國家裡》、《絞刑架下的報告》。

安徒生，丹麥童話作家。著有《皇帝的新衣》、《夜鶯》、《丑小鴨》、《賣火柴的小女孩》、《影子》、《老房子》、《母親的故事》、《園丁和主人》等。

㈣ 世界著名短篇小說

THE GIFT OF THE
One dollar and eighty-seven cents. That was all. And sixty cents of it was in pennies. Pennies saved one and two at a time by bulldozing the grocer and the vegetable man and the butcher until one's cheeks burned with the silent imputation of parsimony that such close dealing implied. Three times Della counted it. One dollar and eighty- seven cents. And the next day would be Christmas.

There was clearly nothing to do but flop down on the shabby little couch and howl. So Della did it. Which instigates the moral reflection that life is made up of sobs, sniffles, and smiles, with sniffles predominating.

While the mistress of the home is graally subsiding from the first stage to the second, take a look at the home. A furnished flat at $8 per week. It did not exactly beggar description, but it certainly had that word on the lookout for the mendicancy squad.

In the vestibule below was a letter-box into which no letter would go, and an electric button from which no mortal finger could coax a ring. Also appertaining thereunto was a card bearing the name "Mr. James Dillingham Young."

The "Dillingham" had been flung to the breeze ring a former period of prosperity when its possessor was being paid $30 per week. Now, when the income was shrunk to $20, though, they were thinking seriously of contracting to a modest and unassuming D. But whenever Mr. James Dillingham Young came home and reached his flat above he was called "Jim" and greatly hugged by Mrs. James Dillingham Young, already introced to you as Della. Which is all very good.

Della finished her cry and attended to her cheeks with the powder rag. She stood by the window and looked out lly at a gray cat walking a gray fence in a gray backyard. Tomorrow would be Christmas Day, and she had only $1.87 with which to buy Jim a present. She had been saving every penny she could for months, with this result. Twenty dollars a week doesn't go far. Expenses had been greater than she had calculated. They always are. Only $1.87 to buy a present for Jim. Her Jim. Many a happy hour she had spent planning for something nice for him. Something fine and rare and sterling--something just a little bit near to being worthy of the honor of being owned by Jim.

There was a pier-glass between the windows of the room. Perhaps you have seen a pier-glass in an $8 flat. A very thin and very agile person may, by observing his reflection in a rapid sequence of longitudinal strips, obtain a fairly accurate conception of his looks. Della, being slender, had mastered the art.

Suddenly she whirled from the window and stood before the glass. her eyes were shining brilliantly, but her face had lost its color within twenty seconds. Rapidly she pulled down her hair and let it fall to its full length.

Now, there were two possessions of the James Dillingham Youngs in which they both took a mighty pride. One was Jim's gold watch that had been his father's and his grandfather's. The other was Della's hair. Had the queen of Sheba lived in the flat across the airshaft, Della would have let her hair hang out the window some day to dry just to depreciate Her Majesty's jewels and gifts. Had King Solomon been the janitor, with all his treasures piled up in the basement, Jim would have pulled out his watch every time he passed, just to see him pluck at his beard from envy.

So now Della's beautiful hair fell about her rippling and shining like a cascade of brown waters. It reached below her knee and made itself almost a garment for her. And then she did it up again nervously and quickly. Once she faltered for a minute and stood still while a tear or two splashed on the worn red carpet.

On went her old brown jacket; on went her old brown hat. With a whirl of skirts and with the brilliant sparkle still in her eyes, she fluttered out the door and down the stairs to the street.

Where she stopped the sign read: "Mne. Sofronie. Hair Goods of All Kinds." One flight up Della ran, and collected herself, panting. Madame, large, too white, chilly, hardly looked the "Sofronie."

"Will you buy my hair?" asked Della.

"I buy hair," said Madame. "Take yer hat off and let's have a sight at the looks of it."

Down rippled the brown cascade.

"Twenty dollars," said Madame, lifting the mass with a practised hand.

"Give it to me quick," said Della.

Oh, and the next two hours tripped by on rosy wings. Forget the hashed metaphor. She was ransacking the stores for Jim's present.

She found it at last. It surely had been made for Jim and no one else. There was no other like it in any of the stores, and she had turned all of them inside out. It was a platinum fob chain simple and chaste in design, properly proclaiming its value by substance alone and not by meretricious ornamentation--as all good things should do. It was even worthy of The Watch. As soon as she saw it she knew that it must be Jim's. It was like him. Quietness and value--the description applied to both. Twenty-one dollars they took from her for it, and she hurried home with the 87 cents. With that chain on his watch Jim might be properly anxious about the time in any company. Grand as the watch was, he sometimes looked at it on the sly on account of the old leather strap that he used in place of a chain.

When Della reached home her intoxication gave way a little to prudence and reason. She got out her curling irons and lighted the gas and went to work repairing the ravages made by generosity added to love. Which is always a tremendous task, dear friends--a mammoth task.

Within forty minutes her head was covered with tiny, close-lying curls that made her look wonderfully like a truant schoolboy. She looked at her reflection in the mirror long, carefully, and critically.

"If Jim doesn't kill me," she said to herself, "before he takes a second look at me, he'll say I look like a Coney Island chorus girl. But what could I do--oh! what could I do with a dollar and eighty- seven cents?"

At 7 o'clock the coffee was made and the frying-pan was on the back of the stove hot and ready to cook the chops.

Jim was never late. Della doubled the fob chain in her hand and sat on the corner of the table near the door that he always entered. Then she heard his step on the stair away down on the first flight, and she turned white for just a moment. She had a habit for saying little silent prayer about the simplest everyday things, and now she whispered: "Please God, make him think I am still pretty."

The door opened and Jim stepped in and closed it. He looked thin and very serious. Poor fellow, he was only twenty-two--and to be burdened with a family! He needed a new overcoat and he was without gloves.

Jim stopped inside the door, as immovable as a setter at the scent of quail. His eyes were fixed upon Della, and there was an expression in them that she could not read, and it terrified her. It was not anger, nor surprise, nor disapproval, nor horror, nor any of the sentiments that she had been prepared for. He simply stared at her fixedly with that peculiar expression on his face.

Della wriggled off the table and went for him.

"Jim, darling," she cried, "don't look at me that way. I had my hair cut off and sold because I couldn't have lived through Christmas without giving you a present. It'll grow out again--you won't mind, will you? I just had to do it. My hair grows awfully fast. Say `Merry Christmas!' Jim, and let's be happy. You don't know what a nice-- what a beautiful, nice gift I've got for you."

"You've cut off your hair?" asked Jim, laboriously, as if he had not arrived at that patent fact yet even after the hardest mental labor.

"Cut it off and sold it," said Della. "Don't you like me just as well, anyhow? I'm me without my hair, ain't I?"

Jim looked about the room curiously.

"You say your hair is gone?" he said, with an air almost of idiocy.

"You needn't look for it," said Della. "It's sold, I tell you--sold and gone, too. It's Christmas Eve, boy. Be good to me, for it went for you. Maybe the hairs of my head were numbered," she went on with sudden serious sweetness, "but nobody could ever count my love for you. Shall I put the chops on, Jim?"

Out of his trance Jim seemed quickly to wake. He enfolded his Della. For ten seconds let us regard with discreet scrutiny some inconsequential object in the other direction. Eight dollars a week or a million a year--what is the difference? A mathematician or a wit would give you the wrong answer. The magi brought valuable gifts, but that was not among them. This dark assertion will be illuminated later on.

Jim drew a package from his overcoat pocket and threw it upon the table.

"Don't make any mistake, Dell," he said, "about me. I don't think there's anything in the way of a haircut or a shave or a shampoo that could make me like my girl any less. But if you'll unwrap that package you may see why you had me going a while at first."

White fingers and nimble tore at the string and paper. And then an ecstatic scream of joy; and then, alas! a quick feminine change to hysterical tears and wails, necessitating the immediate employment of all the comforting powers of the lord of the flat.

For there lay The Combs--the set of combs, side and back, that Della had worshipped long in a Broadway window. Beautiful combs, pure tortoise shell, with jewelled rims--just the shade to wear in the beautiful vanished hair. They were expensive combs, she knew, and her heart had simply craved and yearned over them without the least hope of possession. And now, they were hers, but the tresses that should have adorned the coveted adornments were gone.

But she hugged them to her bosom, and at length she was able to look up with dim eyes and a smile and say: "My hair grows so fast, Jim!"

And them Della leaped up like a little singed cat and cried, "Oh, oh!"

Jim had not yet seen his beautiful present. She held it out to him eagerly upon her open palm. The ll precious metal seemed to flash with a reflection of her bright and ardent spirit.

"Isn't it a dandy, Jim? I hunted all over town to find it. You'll have to look at the time a hundred times a day now. Give me your watch. I want to see how it looks on it."

Instead of obeying, Jim tumbled down on the couch and put his hands under the back of his head and smiled.

"Dell," said he, "let's put our Christmas presents away and keep 'em a while. They're too nice to use just at present. I sold the watch to get the money to buy your combs. And now suppose you put the chops on."

The magi, as you know, were wise men--wonderfully wise men--who brought gifts to the Babe in the manger. They invented the art of giving Christmas presents. Being wise, their gifts were no doubt wise ones, possibly bearing the privilege of exchange in case of plication. And here I have lamely related to you the uneventful chronicle of two foolish children in a flat who most unwisely sacrificed for each other the greatest treasures of their house. But in a last word to the wise of these days let it be said that of all who give gifts these two were the wisest. O all who give and receive gifts, such as they are wisest. Everywhere they are wisest. They are the magi.

㈤ 世界著名短篇小說有哪些

001.《指環王》約翰·羅納德·瑞爾·托爾金其他作品 《精靈寶鑽》、《未完成的故事》
002.《荒原》T.S.艾略特
003.《傲慢與偏見》簡·奧斯汀 作家其他作品： 《理智與情感》《愛瑪》
004.《羅密歐與朱麗葉》莎士比亞 作家其他作品： 《奧賽羅》《李爾王》《麥克白》《哈姆雷特》（四大悲劇）《仲夏夜之夢》、《威尼斯商人》、《第十二夜》、《皆大歡喜》（四大喜劇）
005.《論人生》培根
006.《失樂園》彌爾頓
007.《魯濱遜漂流記》笛福
008.《格列佛游記》斯威夫特
009.《拜倫詩選》拜倫 作家其他作品：《唐璜》
010.《雪萊詩選》雪萊
011.《簡·愛》 夏洛蒂·勃朗特 作家其他作品：《教師》、《維萊特》、《雪莉》、《艾瑪》（未完成）
012.《呼嘯山莊》艾米莉·勃朗特
013.《大衛·科波菲爾》狄更斯 作家其他作品：《雙城記》《匹克威克先生外傳》《遠大前程》.《霧都孤兒》、《董貝父子》《馬丁·瞿述偉》、《荒涼山莊》、《聖誕故事集》
014.《福爾摩斯探案集》阿瑟·柯南·道爾 作家其他作品： 《遺失的世界》
015.《道連·葛雷的畫像》奧斯卡·王爾德
016.《苔絲》托馬斯·哈代 作家其他作品： 《遠離塵囂》、《還鄉》
017.《華倫夫人的職業》蕭伯納 作家其他作品：《聖女貞德》
018.《牛虻》伏尼契
019.《月亮與六便士》 毛姆 作家其他作品：《刀鋒》
020. 《艾凡赫》司各特 作家其他作品：《城堡風雲》
021. 《湯姆瓊斯史》 菲爾丁
022. 《東方快車謀殺案》阿加莎·克里斯蒂 作家其他作品：《陽光下的罪惡》、《三幕悲劇》、《國際學舍謀殺案》、《尼羅河上的慘案》、《羅傑疑案》、《無人生還》
024. 《時間機器》 威爾斯 作家：其他作品《莫羅博士島》、《隱身人》
025. 《坎德伯雷故事集》 喬叟
026. 《1984》 喬治·奧威爾
027. 《查泰萊夫人的情人》 勞倫斯 作家其他作品：《兒子與情人》，《虹》、《戀愛中的女人》
028. 《蝴蝶夢》 達夫妮·杜穆里埃其他作品《牙買加旅店》
029. 《名利場》 薩克雷其他作品 《潘登尼斯》、《亨利·埃斯蒙德》、《紐克姆一家》、《弗吉尼亞人》
030. 《蠅王》戈爾丁
031. 《愛麗絲漫遊仙境》 查爾斯·勒特維奇 ·道奇森 其他作品《愛麗絲鏡中奇緣》
032. 《白衣女人》 威廉·威爾基·柯林斯
033. 《金銀島》 羅伯特·路易斯·斯蒂文森 作家其他作品：《化身博士》
034. 《天路歷程》 約翰·班揚
035. 《盧宮秘史》 安東尼·霍普
036. 《阿格尼絲·格雷》 安妮·勃朗特其他作品《懷爾德菲爾山莊的房客》
037.《福爾賽世家》高爾斯華綏
038.《憤怒的回顧》奧斯本
039.《尤利西斯》詹姆斯·喬伊斯
040.《德拉庫拉》布拉姆·斯托克

㈥ 世界著名的短篇小說

世界著名的短篇小說 :

雨果： 克洛德.格
歐文： 鬼新郎
左拉： 陪襯人
都德： 三部專大彌撒屬
哈代： 富於想像的婦人
海涅： 帕格尼尼
普希金： 黑桃皇後
莫泊桑： 蠻子大媽
梅里美： 伊爾的美神
狄更斯： 窮人的專利
果戈理： 舊式的地主
司各特： 流浪漢威利的故事
契科夫： 寶貝兒
高爾基： 切爾卡希
巴爾扎克： 不為人知的傑作
馬克.吐溫 田納西的新聞界
傑克.倫敦 變節者
屠格涅夫： 總管
歐. 亨利 愛的犧牲

㈦ 世界上三大短篇小說之王分別是：

世界上三大短篇小說之王：法國的莫泊桑，俄國的契訶夫，美國的歐·亨利。

1、莫泊桑

莫泊桑1850年出生於法國上諾曼府濱海塞納省的一個沒落貴族家庭。曾參加普法戰爭，此經歷成為他日後創作小說的一個重要主題。他一生創作了六部長篇小說、三百五十九篇中短篇小說及三部游記，是法國文學史上短篇小說創作數量最大、成就最高的作家之一。莫泊桑患有神經痛和強烈的偏頭痛，巨大的勞動強度，使他逐漸病入膏肓。直到1891年，他已不能再進行寫作。在遭受疾病殘酷的折磨之後，莫泊桑於1893年7月6日逝世，年僅43歲。

2、契訶夫

契訶夫的小說緊湊精煉，言簡意賅，給讀者以獨立思考的餘地。其劇作對19世紀戲劇產生了很大的影響。他堅持現實主義傳統，注重描寫俄國人民的日常生活，塑造具有典型性格的小人物，藉此真實反映出當時俄國社會的狀況。他的作品的兩大特徵是對丑惡現象的嘲笑與對貧苦人民的深切的同情，並且其作品無情地揭露了沙皇統治下的不合理的社會制度和社會的丑惡現象。契訶夫被認為是19世紀末俄國現實主義文學的傑出代表。

3、歐·亨利

1862年9月11日，歐·亨利生於美國北卡羅萊納州格林斯伯勒，曾當過銀行職員、葯劑師等。1896年2月，歐·亨利因受到盜用公款的指控入獄，後逃亡宏都拉斯。1898年再次入獄，期間開始發表作品。1902年，歐·亨利移居紐約，成為職業作家。1910年6月5日，歐·亨利因肝硬化在美國紐約去世。歐·亨利與契訶夫和莫泊桑並列世界三大短篇小說巨匠，曾被評論界譽為曼哈頓桂冠散文作家和美國現代短篇小說之父，他的作品有「美國生活的網路全書」之譽。

擴展材料：

莫泊桑出生於法國西北部諾曼底省狄埃卜城附近一個沒落的貴族家庭。他的祖輩都是貴族，但到他父親這一代時沒落了。父親做了交易所的經紀人。他的母親出身書香門第，愛好文學，經常對文學作品發表評論，見解獨特。莫泊桑出生不久，他的父母由於經常鬧矛盾分居了，他和母親住在海邊的一棟別墅里。從童年時代起，母親就培養他寫詩，到兒子成為作家時，她仍然是莫泊桑的文學顧問、批評者和助手，所以他的母親是他走上文學創作道路的第一位老師。

契訶夫被稱為「世界短篇小說之王」，他一生創作了七八百篇短篇小說，善於從日常生活中發現具有典型意義的人和事，通過幽默可笑的情節進行藝術概括，塑造出完整的典型形象，以此來反映當時的俄國社會。評論家稱，他的小說：「再現了小人物的不幸和軟弱，勞動人民的悲慘生活和小市民的庸俗猥瑣。

歐·亨利的小說常常採用全知敘述者，即採用無所不知、無處不在的「上帝視角」對故事世界的一切予以揭示，還會不時地站出來對故事中的人物、場景進行評述。不過，「即便在一些以全知視角為主導的小說中，故事外敘事者有時也會暫時放棄自己的視角，採用人物視角來揭示人物對某個特定空間的心理感受。」人物視角就會作為人物的感知而構成故事內容的一部分，從而有效地塑造人物形象、展示人物心理活動，進而揭示作品的主題。

㈧ 求世界短篇名著

可以試試世界三大短篇小說大師的作品:
莫泊桑:《漂亮朋友》、《我的叔叔於勒》、《羊脂球》、《項鏈》、《珠寶》；
契訶夫：《變色龍》;《小公務員之死》
歐·亨利：《愛的犧牲》、《警察與贊美詩》、《帶傢具出租的房間》、《賢人的禮物》（或《麥琪的禮物》）、《最後一片藤葉》等。

（1）莫泊桑
十九世紀法國著名的批判現實主義小說家。1880年發表第一個短篇小說《羊脂球》，此後陸續寫了一大批思想性和藝術性完美結合的短篇小說，博得世界短篇小說巨匠的贊譽。他的創作廣泛而深刻地反映了十九世紀後半期的法國社會現實，無情地揭露了資產階級道德風尚的丑惡，對下層社會的「小人物」寄予同情。小說構思新穎，描寫生動，人物語言個性化，布局謀篇別具匠心。代表作有短篇小說《羊脂球》、《項鏈》等，長篇小說《一生》、《俊友》（又譯做《漂亮的朋友》等。

（2）契可夫
十世世紀俄國批判現實主義作家、戲劇家和短篇小說藝術大師。他的早期合作諷刺和揭露了俄國社會官場人物媚上欺下的丑惡面目，寫得諧趣橫生，發人深思。八十年代中期，他創作了既幽默又富於悲劇的短篇小說，反映了社會底層人民的被侮辱被損害的不幸生活，具有深刻的思想意義。代表作有短篇小說《變色龍》、《苦惱》、《萬卡》、《第六病室》、《套中人》等。

（3）歐.亨利
十九世紀末二十世紀初美國現實主義著名作家。曾被誣告罪入獄三年。後遷居紐約，專事寫作，他幾乎每周寫一篇短篇小說，供報刊發表。他一生創作了近三百篇短篇小說和一部長篇小說，對腐朽的資本主義制度、反人道的法律、虛偽的道德給予揭露和諷刺。代表作有長篇小說《白菜與皇帝》，短篇小說《麥琪的禮物》、《警察與贊美詩》等。

㈨ 求世界短篇小說排行

莫泊桑 《羊脂球》,《項鏈》
契可夫 《變色龍》,《苦惱》,《萬卡》,《第六病室》,《套中人》
歐.亨利 《麥琪的禮物》,《警察與贊美詩》
這世界三大短篇小說家的其他作品還很多。