世界著名短篇叙事小说

㈠ 世界上著名的短篇小说，一定要短

雨果： 克洛德.格
欧文： 鬼新郎
左拉： 陪衬人
都德： 三部大弥撒内
哈代： 富于想容象的妇人
海涅： 帕格尼尼
普希金： 黑桃皇后
莫泊桑： 蛮子大妈
梅里美： 伊尔的美神
狄更斯： 穷人的专利
果戈理： 旧式的地主
司各特： 流浪汉威利的故事
契科夫： 宝贝儿
高尔基： 切尔卡希
巴尔扎克： 不为人知的杰作
马克.吐温 田纳西的新闻界
杰克.伦敦 变节者
屠格涅夫： 总管
欧. 亨利 爱的牺牲

㈡ 请推荐一些叙事性强的世界名著

下面都是：抄
《红与黑》司汤达
《雾都孤儿》狄更斯
《飘》玛格丽特
《基督山伯爵》大仲马
《双城记 》查尔斯·狄更斯
《老人与海》 海明威
《悲惨世界》 雨果
《牛虻》 伏尼契
《苔丝》 哈代
《高龙巴》 梅里美
《绿野仙踪》 莱曼·弗兰·鲍姆
《汤姆·索亚历险记》 马克·吐温
《野性的呼唤》 杰克·伦敦
《惊婚记》 瓦尔特·司各特
楼上的看过我说的这几部小说吗?无语了，只好加几部。
《傲慢与偏见》简·奥斯丁
《海底两万里》《80天环游地球》儒勒·凡尔纳
《金银岛》斯蒂文森
《尼尔斯骑鹅历险记》塞尔玛·拉格洛芙
《海上劳工》《笑面人》维克多·雨果
《了不起的盖茨比》杰拉德
《格里佛游记》 斯威夫特
《丰饶之海》 三岛由纪夫
《三个火枪手》 大仲马

㈢ 推荐外国一些著名中短篇小说家及其作品

奠泊桑，法国批判现实主义作家，著有300 篇短篇和长篇小说，代表作有《羊脂球》、《俊友》等，课文收有《项链》，《我的叔叔于勒》等。

莎士比亚，英国文艺复兴时期伟大的剧作家和诗人。流传剧本37 部，长诗两首，十四行诗154 首，代表作品有《罗密欧与朱丽叶》、《哈姆雷特》、《奥赛罗》、《李尔王》等。

契诃夫，19 世纪末期俄国杰出的批判现实主义作家，举世闻名的短篇小说巨匠和著名的剧作家，代表作有短篇小说《套中人》、《变色龙》、《哀伤》、《苦恼》、《万卡》等，剧本《万尼亚舅舅》、《伊凡诺夫》、《海鸥》、《樱桃园》等。

高尔基，伟大的无产阶级作家，前苏联社会主义文学奠基人。著有《高尔基全集》69 卷。其中著名的作品有自传体三部曲《童年》、《在人间》、《我的大学》等，《母亲》是他的代表作。

马克·吐温，美国杰出的批判现实主义作家，代表作有《镀金时代》、《汤姆·索亚历险记》、《哈克贝利·费恩历险记》，晚年著有《败坏了赫德莱保的人》。

欧·亨利，美国短篇小说家，著有《麦琪的礼物》、《警察与赞美诗》、《最后的藤叶》等。

伏契克，捷克斯洛伐克民族英雄、新闻记者、作家，著有《亲爱的国家里》、《绞刑架下的报告》。

安徒生，丹麦童话作家。著有《皇帝的新衣》、《夜莺》、《丑小鸭》、《卖火柴的小女孩》、《影子》、《老房子》、《母亲的故事》、《园丁和主人》等。

㈣ 世界著名短篇小说

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 世界著名短篇小说有哪些

001.《指环王》约翰·罗纳德·瑞尔·托尔金其他作品 《精灵宝钻》、《未完成的故事》
002.《荒原》T.S.艾略特
003.《傲慢与偏见》简·奥斯汀 作家其他作品： 《理智与情感》《爱玛》
004.《罗密欧与朱丽叶》莎士比亚 作家其他作品： 《奥赛罗》《李尔王》《麦克白》《哈姆雷特》（四大悲剧）《仲夏夜之梦》、《威尼斯商人》、《第十二夜》、《皆大欢喜》（四大喜剧）
005.《论人生》培根
006.《失乐园》弥尔顿
007.《鲁滨逊漂流记》笛福
008.《格列佛游记》斯威夫特
009.《拜伦诗选》拜伦 作家其他作品：《唐璜》
010.《雪莱诗选》雪莱
011.《简·爱》 夏洛蒂·勃朗特 作家其他作品：《教师》、《维莱特》、《雪莉》、《艾玛》（未完成）
012.《呼啸山庄》艾米莉·勃朗特
013.《大卫·科波菲尔》狄更斯 作家其他作品：《双城记》《匹克威克先生外传》《远大前程》.《雾都孤儿》、《董贝父子》《马丁·瞿述伟》、《荒凉山庄》、《圣诞故事集》
014.《福尔摩斯探案集》阿瑟·柯南·道尔 作家其他作品： 《遗失的世界》
015.《道连·葛雷的画像》奥斯卡·王尔德
016.《苔丝》托马斯·哈代 作家其他作品： 《远离尘嚣》、《还乡》
017.《华伦夫人的职业》萧伯纳 作家其他作品：《圣女贞德》
018.《牛虻》伏尼契
019.《月亮与六便士》 毛姆 作家其他作品：《刀锋》
020. 《艾凡赫》司各特 作家其他作品：《城堡风云》
021. 《汤姆琼斯史》 菲尔丁
022. 《东方快车谋杀案》阿加莎·克里斯蒂 作家其他作品：《阳光下的罪恶》、《三幕悲剧》、《国际学舍谋杀案》、《尼罗河上的惨案》、《罗杰疑案》、《无人生还》
024. 《时间机器》 威尔斯 作家：其他作品《莫罗博士岛》、《隐身人》
025. 《坎德伯雷故事集》 乔叟
026. 《1984》 乔治·奥威尔
027. 《查泰莱夫人的情人》 劳伦斯 作家其他作品：《儿子与情人》，《虹》、《恋爱中的女人》
028. 《蝴蝶梦》 达夫妮·杜穆里埃其他作品《牙买加旅店》
029. 《名利场》 萨克雷其他作品 《潘登尼斯》、《亨利·埃斯蒙德》、《纽克姆一家》、《弗吉尼亚人》
030. 《蝇王》戈尔丁
031. 《爱丽丝漫游仙境》 查尔斯·勒特维奇 ·道奇森 其他作品《爱丽丝镜中奇缘》
032. 《白衣女人》 威廉·威尔基·柯林斯
033. 《金银岛》 罗伯特·路易斯·斯蒂文森 作家其他作品：《化身博士》
034. 《天路历程》 约翰·班扬
035. 《卢宫秘史》 安东尼·霍普
036. 《阿格尼丝·格雷》 安妮·勃朗特其他作品《怀尔德菲尔山庄的房客》
037.《福尔赛世家》高尔斯华绥
038.《愤怒的回顾》奥斯本
039.《尤利西斯》詹姆斯·乔伊斯
040.《德拉库拉》布拉姆·斯托克

㈥ 世界著名的短篇小说

世界著名的短篇小说 :

雨果： 克洛德.格
欧文： 鬼新郎
左拉： 陪衬人
都德： 三部专大弥撒属
哈代： 富于想象的妇人
海涅： 帕格尼尼
普希金： 黑桃皇后
莫泊桑： 蛮子大妈
梅里美： 伊尔的美神
狄更斯： 穷人的专利
果戈理： 旧式的地主
司各特： 流浪汉威利的故事
契科夫： 宝贝儿
高尔基： 切尔卡希
巴尔扎克： 不为人知的杰作
马克.吐温 田纳西的新闻界
杰克.伦敦 变节者
屠格涅夫： 总管
欧. 亨利 爱的牺牲

㈦ 世界上三大短篇小说之王分别是：

世界上三大短篇小说之王：法国的莫泊桑，俄国的契诃夫，美国的欧·亨利。

1、莫泊桑

莫泊桑1850年出生于法国上诺曼府滨海塞纳省的一个没落贵族家庭。曾参加普法战争，此经历成为他日后创作小说的一个重要主题。他一生创作了六部长篇小说、三百五十九篇中短篇小说及三部游记，是法国文学史上短篇小说创作数量最大、成就最高的作家之一。莫泊桑患有神经痛和强烈的偏头痛，巨大的劳动强度，使他逐渐病入膏肓。直到1891年，他已不能再进行写作。在遭受疾病残酷的折磨之后，莫泊桑于1893年7月6日逝世，年仅43岁。

2、契诃夫

契诃夫的小说紧凑精炼，言简意赅，给读者以独立思考的余地。其剧作对19世纪戏剧产生了很大的影响。他坚持现实主义传统，注重描写俄国人民的日常生活，塑造具有典型性格的小人物，借此真实反映出当时俄国社会的状况。他的作品的两大特征是对丑恶现象的嘲笑与对贫苦人民的深切的同情，并且其作品无情地揭露了沙皇统治下的不合理的社会制度和社会的丑恶现象。契诃夫被认为是19世纪末俄国现实主义文学的杰出代表。

3、欧·亨利

1862年9月11日，欧·亨利生于美国北卡罗莱纳州格林斯伯勒，曾当过银行职员、药剂师等。1896年2月，欧·亨利因受到盗用公款的指控入狱，后逃亡洪都拉斯。1898年再次入狱，期间开始发表作品。1902年，欧·亨利移居纽约，成为职业作家。1910年6月5日，欧·亨利因肝硬化在美国纽约去世。欧·亨利与契诃夫和莫泊桑并列世界三大短篇小说巨匠，曾被评论界誉为曼哈顿桂冠散文作家和美国现代短篇小说之父，他的作品有“美国生活的网络全书”之誉。

扩展材料：

莫泊桑出生于法国西北部诺曼底省狄埃卜城附近一个没落的贵族家庭。他的祖辈都是贵族，但到他父亲这一代时没落了。父亲做了交易所的经纪人。他的母亲出身书香门第，爱好文学，经常对文学作品发表评论，见解独特。莫泊桑出生不久，他的父母由于经常闹矛盾分居了，他和母亲住在海边的一栋别墅里。从童年时代起，母亲就培养他写诗，到儿子成为作家时，她仍然是莫泊桑的文学顾问、批评者和助手，所以他的母亲是他走上文学创作道路的第一位老师。

契诃夫被称为“世界短篇小说之王”，他一生创作了七八百篇短篇小说，善于从日常生活中发现具有典型意义的人和事，通过幽默可笑的情节进行艺术概括，塑造出完整的典型形象，以此来反映当时的俄国社会。评论家称，他的小说：“再现了小人物的不幸和软弱，劳动人民的悲惨生活和小市民的庸俗猥琐。

欧·亨利的小说常常采用全知叙述者，即采用无所不知、无处不在的“上帝视角”对故事世界的一切予以揭示，还会不时地站出来对故事中的人物、场景进行评述。不过，“即便在一些以全知视角为主导的小说中，故事外叙事者有时也会暂时放弃自己的视角，采用人物视角来揭示人物对某个特定空间的心理感受。”人物视角就会作为人物的感知而构成故事内容的一部分，从而有效地塑造人物形象、展示人物心理活动，进而揭示作品的主题。

㈧ 求世界短篇名著

可以试试世界三大短篇小说大师的作品:
莫泊桑:《漂亮朋友》、《我的叔叔于勒》、《羊脂球》、《项链》、《珠宝》；
契诃夫：《变色龙》;《小公务员之死》
欧·亨利：《爱的牺牲》、《警察与赞美诗》、《带家具出租的房间》、《贤人的礼物》（或《麦琪的礼物》）、《最后一片藤叶》等。

（1）莫泊桑
十九世纪法国著名的批判现实主义小说家。1880年发表第一个短篇小说《羊脂球》，此后陆续写了一大批思想性和艺术性完美结合的短篇小说，博得世界短篇小说巨匠的赞誉。他的创作广泛而深刻地反映了十九世纪后半期的法国社会现实，无情地揭露了资产阶级道德风尚的丑恶，对下层社会的“小人物”寄予同情。小说构思新颖，描写生动，人物语言个性化，布局谋篇别具匠心。代表作有短篇小说《羊脂球》、《项链》等，长篇小说《一生》、《俊友》（又译做《漂亮的朋友》等。

（2）契可夫
十世世纪俄国批判现实主义作家、戏剧家和短篇小说艺术大师。他的早期合作讽刺和揭露了俄国社会官场人物媚上欺下的丑恶面目，写得谐趣横生，发人深思。八十年代中期，他创作了既幽默又富于悲剧的短篇小说，反映了社会底层人民的被侮辱被损害的不幸生活，具有深刻的思想意义。代表作有短篇小说《变色龙》、《苦恼》、《万卡》、《第六病室》、《套中人》等。

（3）欧.亨利
十九世纪末二十世纪初美国现实主义著名作家。曾被诬告罪入狱三年。后迁居纽约，专事写作，他几乎每周写一篇短篇小说，供报刊发表。他一生创作了近三百篇短篇小说和一部长篇小说，对腐朽的资本主义制度、反人道的法律、虚伪的道德给予揭露和讽刺。代表作有长篇小说《白菜与皇帝》，短篇小说《麦琪的礼物》、《警察与赞美诗》等。

㈨ 求世界短篇小说排行

莫泊桑 《羊脂球》,《项链》
契可夫 《变色龙》,《苦恼》,《万卡》,《第六病室》,《套中人》
欧.亨利 《麦琪的礼物》,《警察与赞美诗》
这世界三大短篇小说家的其他作品还很多。