世界經典短篇小說在線讀

❶ 《司湯達短篇小說選世界短篇小說精華》txt下載在線閱讀全文，求百度網盤雲資源

《司湯達短篇小說選世界短篇小說精華》（:司湯達）電子書網盤下載免費在線閱讀

鏈接：https://pan..com/s/1kRvk3CaaLiGc30f8q5UV7Q

書名：司湯達短篇小說選世界短篇小說精華

作者:司湯達
出版社:湖南文藝出版社
譯者:黃建昆/李熊
出版年:1993-5
頁數:372

內容簡介：

本書收錄了司湯達的十三個短篇小說。其中《往事連篇》（直譯為《一個義大利紳士的回憶》）、《箱子與鬼》《米娜·德·旺格爾》、《媚葯》、《菲利貝》等五篇譯自法國瑟伊出版社的《司湯達小說選》等

作者簡介：

司湯達，19世紀法國批判現實主義作家。1783年出生於法國格勒諾布勒城的一個資產階級家庭。他本名叫亨利·貝爾。早年喪母。少年時在外祖父家閱讀了大量名作，1796年入中學。17歲時他投筆從戎，跟隨拿破崙南征北戰，博得拿破崙的贊賞。1814年波旁王朝復辟，他遭通緝，流亡米蘭。他從1817年開始發表作品，後用司湯達這個筆名發表作品。1821年他又被迫離開米蘭回巴黎。1829年，他發表了短篇小說《瓦尼娜·瓦尼尼》。 1828年10月，司湯達從《司法公報》和《羅馬漫步》上的兩個案件受到啟發，開始寫作《紅與黑》，於1830年完成。1832～1842年間，司湯達經濟拮據，疾病纏身，但他創作不斷，直到1842年3月23日逝世。

❷ 《梅里美短篇小說選世界短篇小說精華》txt下載在線閱讀，求百度網盤雲資源

《梅里美短篇小說選》（[法] 梅里美）電子書網盤下載免費在線閱讀

鏈接：https://pan..com/s/1qyOJRMHFtXik31BDK60Jyw

書名：梅里美短篇小說選

作者：[法] 梅里美

譯者：鄭永慧

豆瓣評分：8.8

出版社：湖南文藝出版社

出版年份：2001-6

頁數：398

❸ 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

❹ 《經典短篇小說101篇經典短篇小說101篇》epub下載在線閱讀全文，求百度網盤雲資源

《經典短篇小說101篇經典短篇小說101篇》（(美)亨利）電子書網盤下載免費在線閱讀

鏈接：https://pan..com/s/1VGRoQEN_wNzgVokIHy-K2A提取碼：HDQP

書名：經典短篇小說101篇經典短篇小說101篇

作者:[美] 歐·亨利
出版社:天津人民出版社
副標題:經典短篇小說101篇
出版年:2013-10-1
頁數:776

內容簡介

這本《101 Classic Short Stories：經典短篇小說101篇》按全英文版出版，西方流行口袋本。共收集了歐•亨利、傑克•倫敦、霍桑、契訶夫等數十位西方著名短篇小說家的代表作與經典名篇，全書共101篇。讀者可以通過書上指定的網址，通過微盤免費下載配套的英文朗讀文件，邊聽邊讀，感受地道英語文學之樂趣。對於英語學習者來講，這是一本優秀的英語文學精讀手冊。

作者簡介

亨利·詹姆斯（Henry James，1843年4月15日－1916年2月28日），英籍美裔小說家、文學批評家、劇作家和散文家。代表作有長篇小說《一個美國人》《一位女士的畫像》《鴿翼》《使節》《金碗》等。1843年4月16日，生於紐約市。幼年主要是在紐約州的奧本尼和紐約市長大的。1860—1862年期間，住在羅得島的紐波特。後到波士頓，寫文學評論，游記和短篇小說。1875年，他決定去歐洲定居。最初他住在巴黎，並結識了屠格涅夫，福樓拜、莫泊桑和左拉。次年，移居英國。1876年，出版第一部長篇小說《羅德里克·赫德森》。在他的早期創作階段，寫了《一個美國人》、《貴婦人的畫像》、《黛西·密勒》、《華盛頓廣場》以及《艾斯朋遺稿》，並周遊了美國、法國和義大利。1889年開始，試圖躋身戲劇創作，但沒有成功，只上演了他寫的兩個劇本《一個美國人》和《未成熟的少年時代》。19世紀90年代，出版了《悲慘的詩人》《梅西所知道的》《波音頓的珍藏晶》《螺絲在擰緊》等。1904年—1905年，對美國作了一次訪問，訪問後寫了《美國所見》。第一次世界大戰期間，成為英國公民，並被授予最高文職勛章。1916年2月28日去世。

❺ 求，世界著名短篇小說大全

《飢餓藝術家》卡夫卡
表演飢餓，最早的行為藝術，跟現在一樣，很少能吸引別人認真的關注。
《「搞定」夫婦》林·拉德納
將愛心泛濫者寫到極端。
《世界上最漂亮的溺水者》馬爾克斯
被美好喚醒的人們。
《1870年的氣球飛行》史蒂文·米爾豪瑟
熱氣球下的世界。
《阿內西阿美女皇後》
傑出的循環。
《艾皮凱克》馮尼格
機器人和愛情。
《安陽》馮唐
試圖重現創世之初。
《艾德沃坦夫人》巴塔耶
放盪不羈。
《柏林之圍》
理想和現實的沖突。
《扳道夫》阿雷奧拉
荒誕的火車，絕佳諷刺。
《寶貝兒》契訶夫
完全依附於愛情，而不是愛人。
《鼻子》芥川龍之介
可憐的自尊。
《趁生命氣息逗留》羅傑·澤拉茲尼
機器人重創世界。
《水月》川端康成
描寫極細膩。
《穿牆記》馬塞爾·埃梅
奇人。
《計程車上的吸血鬼》春上村樹
擴大概念。
《逮香蕉魚的日子》塞林格
戰後人的精神創傷。
《地球上的王家莊》畢飛宇
詩意寫愚昧。
《地獄變》芥川龍之介
不瘋魔不成活。
《斷魂槍》老舍
時代變更後的失落。
《二路電車》馬哈姆德·台木爾
尋常愛情。
《封鎖》張愛玲
逢場作戲。
《南方高速公路》科塔薩爾
類似《封鎖》，稍廣博。
《狗日的糧食》劉恆
中國農民。
《好心的中士》塞林格
更美麗的真實。
《河的第三條岸》若昂·吉馬朗埃斯·羅薩
父親的個人理想。
《黑幫老大》希區柯克
就懸疑性來說，希區柯克勝過歐亨利太多。
《紅死病的假面具》愛倫坡
沉著、剋制的懸疑。
《猴爪》W·W·雅克布斯
鋪墊結實，結局妙。
《換妻記》胡·何.阿雷奧拉
成人童話。
《婚宴》王祥夫
豐盛的婚宴。
《威克菲爾德》霍桑
跳脫出自己生活。
《江邊紀事》高軍
小說式散文。
《警察與贊美詩》歐亨利
意料之外。
《狙擊手的一個早晨》 弗拉基米爾·索羅金
心驚動魄。
《巨翅老人》馬爾克斯
有翅膀，就有飛翔的可能。
《巨蟒》杜拉斯
陽光下有形的吞食和陰影里無形的吞噬。
《乞力馬扎羅的雪》海明威
夢接近於現實。
《十八歲出門旅行》余華
社會規則。
《教長的黑面紗》霍桑。
人人都只向大眾呈現了部分自己。
《近視眼的故事》卡爾維諾
是否戴眼鏡成了悖論。
《孔乙己》魯迅。
湊起來的形象異常飽滿。
《苦惱》契訶夫
我向誰去訴說我的悲傷？
《老婦與貓》多麗絲·萊辛
城中流浪。
《冷也好熱也好活著就好》池莉
漢口夜生活。
《理發》林·拉德納
理發師的獨白。
《立體幾何》麥克尤恩
源於《零側曲面》，更豐滿。
《烈火平原》胡安魯爾福
戰爭全過程。
《羅馬驚艷》希區柯克
和《猴爪》有一拼。
《馬口魚》張萬新
虛構的真實。
《螞蟻》鮑里斯·維昂
戰爭的諷刺。
《瓶裝地獄》 夢野久作
不同順序，不同的解讀。
《太陽鳥》 尼爾.蓋曼
美食家和傳說中的鳥。
《歌利亞》尼爾蓋曼
黑客帝國。
《西西里檸檬》皮蘭德婁
忘恩負義。
《七層樓》迪諾布扎蒂
死亡的誘引。
《出埃及記》恰克·帕拉尼克
亡命天涯。
《冬日之旅》喬治·佩雷克
對歷史的誤解。
《青魚》拉克司奈斯
看天吃飯。
《情書》岩井俊二
過於完美的巧合。
《色戒》張愛玲
平靜下面的動盪。
《獅子頭》張大春
另一種江湖。
《受戒》汪曾祺
純真的美，同樣不染世俗。
《四把藍色椅子》哈尼夫·庫雷西
愛情中的難堪。
《太陽與陰影》皮蘭德婁
三起三落。
《巴比倫塔》特德·奇昂
天空的盡頭。
《王佛保命之道》尤瑟納爾。
現實即畫。
《罕福之行》威廉薩洛揚
完美的對話。
《我們看菊花去》白先勇
殘酷的愛。
《籙竹山房》吳組緗
鬼屋。
《午餐》毛姆
高級黑。
《獻給艾米麗的玫瑰花》福克納
自私的愛情。
《蕭蕭》 沈從文
凄美的鄉村生活。
《小徑分叉的花園》博爾赫斯
時間迷宮。
《雪中的獵人》 托拜厄斯·沃爾夫
見風使舵。
《一場不算嚴重的蝗災》多麗絲萊辛
蝗災麗景。
《一天》陳村
一天是重復的。
《一隻特立獨行的豬》王小波
大概也能看作小說。
《嬰寧》蒲松齡
沒心沒肺。
《遊仙窟》張鷟
古人逛窯子。 《阿拉比》喬伊斯
幻夢的破滅。
《再見爸爸》約翰·契弗
與虛偽道別。
《雞蛋》舍伍德安德森
生活的勝利。
《安東諾夫卡蘋果》蒲寧
全方位庄園游覽圖。
《這次我演什麼角色》庫特·馮尼格
人生如戲。
《南方》博爾赫斯
夢和現實的分界。
《白象似的群山》海明威
冰山效應。
《瘋狂時期的大海》馬爾克斯
這是《百年孤獨》短篇版。
《公道》福克納
詳盡有趣的歷史描述。
《魔法外套》迪諾·布扎蒂
有得就有失。
《距離》卡佛
極簡主義。
《不值一文的老奶奶》布萊希特
自己的生活。
《射象》喬治奧威爾
違心的事。
《最後一名》埃梅
放棄也是一種智慧。
《相遇》格非
相遇既是開始，又是結局

❻ 經典短篇小說

《羊脂球》，《項鏈》，莫泊桑的經典作品，你老師肯定認識，就不知道你幾年級了，能看懂不？
《魯濱遜漂流記》 《鋼煉》

❼ 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.

❽ 《50：偉大的短篇小說們》txt下載在線閱讀，求百度網盤雲資源

《50：偉大的短篇小說們》（歐·亨利）電子書網盤下載免費在線閱讀

資源鏈接：

鏈接：https://pan..com/s/1-4aoTuCed5a7G6HcGSj64g

書名：50：偉大的短篇小說們

作者：歐·亨利

譯者：姚向輝

豆瓣評分：8.1

出版社：天津人民出版社

出版年份：2017-12

頁數：480

內容簡介：

本書除了收錄世界四大短篇小說家歐·亨利、契訶夫、莫泊桑、馬克·吐溫的代表作，還囊括了諾貝爾文學獎得主泰戈爾、海明威、福克納，俄語文學三大巨匠普希金、托爾斯泰、陀思妥耶夫斯基，以意識流創作著稱的伍爾夫，恐怖美學的踐行者愛倫·坡、洛夫克拉夫特，以及在各文學流派中佔有一席之地的——霍桑、毛姆、卡夫卡、茨威格、狄更斯、芥川龍之介、菲茨傑拉德等37位大咖們的經典力作。柳鳴九、張英倫、曹明倫、姚向輝、趙玉皎、楊向榮、樓武挺、姜乙、楊蔚等31位權威譯者高水準的譯本，用詞嚴謹，語言簡潔，最大程度地還原原著之美，展現大師們獨到的敘事風格和技巧，為你帶來一場世界短篇小說的經典盛宴。

作者簡介：

作者：世界四大短篇小說家歐·亨利、契訶夫、莫泊桑、馬克·吐溫；諾貝爾文學獎得主泰戈爾、海明威、福克納；俄語文學三大巨匠普希金、托爾斯泰、陀思妥耶夫斯基；愛倫·坡、伍爾夫、霍桑、毛姆、卡夫卡、茨威格、狄更斯、芥川龍之介、菲茨傑拉德、洛夫克拉夫特、波德萊爾、舒爾茨、蒲寧、都德等37位各文學流派的領軍人物。

譯者：法語翻譯家柳鳴九、張英倫；德語翻譯姜乙、溫仁百；日語翻譯趙玉皎、黃悅生；愛倫·坡作品研究專家曹明倫；中國俄羅斯文學研究會理事謝周；英美文學翻譯楊蔚、姚向輝、楊向榮、樓武挺、雍毅等31位優質譯者齊齊獻力。高水準譯文忠實原著，用詞嚴謹、語言簡練。