世界经典短篇小说在线读

❶ 《司汤达短篇小说选世界短篇小说精华》txt下载在线阅读全文，求百度网盘云资源

《司汤达短篇小说选世界短篇小说精华》（:司汤达）电子书网盘下载免费在线阅读

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

书名：司汤达短篇小说选世界短篇小说精华

作者:司汤达
出版社:湖南文艺出版社
译者:黄建昆/李熊
出版年:1993-5
页数:372

内容简介：

本书收录了司汤达的十三个短篇小说。其中《往事连篇》（直译为《一个意大利绅士的回忆》）、《箱子与鬼》《米娜·德·旺格尔》、《媚药》、《菲利贝》等五篇译自法国瑟伊出版社的《司汤达小说选》等

作者简介：

司汤达，19世纪法国批判现实主义作家。1783年出生于法国格勒诺布勒城的一个资产阶级家庭。他本名叫亨利·贝尔。早年丧母。少年时在外祖父家阅读了大量名作，1796年入中学。17岁时他投笔从戎，跟随拿破仑南征北战，博得拿破仑的赞赏。1814年波旁王朝复辟，他遭通缉，流亡米兰。他从1817年开始发表作品，后用司汤达这个笔名发表作品。1821年他又被迫离开米兰回巴黎。1829年，他发表了短篇小说《瓦尼娜·瓦尼尼》。 1828年10月，司汤达从《司法公报》和《罗马漫步》上的两个案件受到启发，开始写作《红与黑》，于1830年完成。1832～1842年间，司汤达经济拮据，疾病缠身，但他创作不断，直到1842年3月23日逝世。

❷ 《梅里美短篇小说选世界短篇小说精华》txt下载在线阅读，求百度网盘云资源

《梅里美短篇小说选》（[法] 梅里美）电子书网盘下载免费在线阅读

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

书名：梅里美短篇小说选

作者：[法] 梅里美

译者：郑永慧

豆瓣评分：8.8

出版社：湖南文艺出版社

出版年份：2001-6

页数：398

❸ 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

❹ 《经典短篇小说101篇经典短篇小说101篇》epub下载在线阅读全文，求百度网盘云资源

《经典短篇小说101篇经典短篇小说101篇》（(美)亨利）电子书网盘下载免费在线阅读

链接：https://pan..com/s/1VGRoQEN_wNzgVokIHy-K2A提取码：HDQP

书名：经典短篇小说101篇经典短篇小说101篇

作者:[美] 欧·亨利
出版社:天津人民出版社
副标题:经典短篇小说101篇
出版年:2013-10-1
页数:776

内容简介

这本《101 Classic Short Stories：经典短篇小说101篇》按全英文版出版，西方流行口袋本。共收集了欧•亨利、杰克•伦敦、霍桑、契诃夫等数十位西方著名短篇小说家的代表作与经典名篇，全书共101篇。读者可以通过书上指定的网址，通过微盘免费下载配套的英文朗读文件，边听边读，感受地道英语文学之乐趣。对于英语学习者来讲，这是一本优秀的英语文学精读手册。

作者简介

亨利·詹姆斯（Henry James，1843年4月15日－1916年2月28日），英籍美裔小说家、文学批评家、剧作家和散文家。代表作有长篇小说《一个美国人》《一位女士的画像》《鸽翼》《使节》《金碗》等。1843年4月16日，生于纽约市。幼年主要是在纽约州的奥本尼和纽约市长大的。1860—1862年期间，住在罗得岛的纽波特。后到波士顿，写文学评论，游记和短篇小说。1875年，他决定去欧洲定居。最初他住在巴黎，并结识了屠格涅夫，福楼拜、莫泊桑和左拉。次年，移居英国。1876年，出版第一部长篇小说《罗德里克·赫德森》。在他的早期创作阶段，写了《一个美国人》、《贵妇人的画像》、《黛西·密勒》、《华盛顿广场》以及《艾斯朋遗稿》，并周游了美国、法国和意大利。1889年开始，试图跻身戏剧创作，但没有成功，只上演了他写的两个剧本《一个美国人》和《未成熟的少年时代》。19世纪90年代，出版了《悲惨的诗人》《梅西所知道的》《波音顿的珍藏晶》《螺丝在拧紧》等。1904年—1905年，对美国作了一次访问，访问后写了《美国所见》。第一次世界大战期间，成为英国公民，并被授予最高文职勋章。1916年2月28日去世。

❺ 求，世界著名短篇小说大全

《饥饿艺术家》卡夫卡
表演饥饿，最早的行为艺术，跟现在一样，很少能吸引别人认真的关注。
《“搞定”夫妇》林·拉德纳
将爱心泛滥者写到极端。
《世界上最漂亮的溺水者》马尔克斯
被美好唤醒的人们。
《1870年的气球飞行》史蒂文·米尔豪瑟
热气球下的世界。
《阿内西阿美女皇后》
杰出的循环。
《艾皮凯克》冯尼格
机器人和爱情。
《安阳》冯唐
试图重现创世之初。
《艾德沃坦夫人》巴塔耶
放荡不羁。
《柏林之围》
理想和现实的冲突。
《扳道夫》阿雷奥拉
荒诞的火车，绝佳讽刺。
《宝贝儿》契诃夫
完全依附于爱情，而不是爱人。
《鼻子》芥川龙之介
可怜的自尊。
《趁生命气息逗留》罗杰·泽拉兹尼
机器人重创世界。
《水月》川端康成
描写极细腻。
《穿墙记》马塞尔·埃梅
奇人。
《出租车上的吸血鬼》春上村树
扩大概念。
《逮香蕉鱼的日子》塞林格
战后人的精神创伤。
《地球上的王家庄》毕飞宇
诗意写愚昧。
《地狱变》芥川龙之介
不疯魔不成活。
《断魂枪》老舍
时代变更后的失落。
《二路电车》马哈姆德·台木尔
寻常爱情。
《封锁》张爱玲
逢场作戏。
《南方高速公路》科塔萨尔
类似《封锁》，稍广博。
《狗日的粮食》刘恒
中国农民。
《好心的中士》塞林格
更美丽的真实。
《河的第三条岸》若昂·吉马朗埃斯·罗萨
父亲的个人理想。
《黑帮老大》希区柯克
就悬疑性来说，希区柯克胜过欧亨利太多。
《红死病的假面具》爱伦坡
沉着、克制的悬疑。
《猴爪》W·W·雅克布斯
铺垫结实，结局妙。
《换妻记》胡·何.阿雷奥拉
成人童话。
《婚宴》王祥夫
丰盛的婚宴。
《威克菲尔德》霍桑
跳脱出自己生活。
《江边纪事》高军
小说式散文。
《警察与赞美诗》欧亨利
意料之外。
《狙击手的一个早晨》 弗拉基米尔·索罗金
心惊动魄。
《巨翅老人》马尔克斯
有翅膀，就有飞翔的可能。
《巨蟒》杜拉斯
阳光下有形的吞食和阴影里无形的吞噬。
《乞力马扎罗的雪》海明威
梦接近于现实。
《十八岁出门旅行》余华
社会规则。
《教长的黑面纱》霍桑。
人人都只向大众呈现了部分自己。
《近视眼的故事》卡尔维诺
是否戴眼镜成了悖论。
《孔乙己》鲁迅。
凑起来的形象异常饱满。
《苦恼》契诃夫
我向谁去诉说我的悲伤？
《老妇与猫》多丽丝·莱辛
城中流浪。
《冷也好热也好活着就好》池莉
汉口夜生活。
《理发》林·拉德纳
理发师的独白。
《立体几何》麦克尤恩
源于《零侧曲面》，更丰满。
《烈火平原》胡安鲁尔福
战争全过程。
《罗马惊艳》希区柯克
和《猴爪》有一拼。
《马口鱼》张万新
虚构的真实。
《蚂蚁》鲍里斯·维昂
战争的讽刺。
《瓶装地狱》 梦野久作
不同顺序，不同的解读。
《太阳鸟》 尼尔.盖曼
美食家和传说中的鸟。
《歌利亚》尼尔盖曼
黑客帝国。
《西西里柠檬》皮兰德娄
忘恩负义。
《七层楼》迪诺布扎蒂
死亡的诱引。
《出埃及记》恰克·帕拉尼克
亡命天涯。
《冬日之旅》乔治·佩雷克
对历史的误解。
《青鱼》拉克司奈斯
看天吃饭。
《情书》岩井俊二
过于完美的巧合。
《色戒》张爱玲
平静下面的动荡。
《狮子头》张大春
另一种江湖。
《受戒》汪曾祺
纯真的美，同样不染世俗。
《四把蓝色椅子》哈尼夫·库雷西
爱情中的难堪。
《太阳与阴影》皮兰德娄
三起三落。
《巴比伦塔》特德·奇昂
天空的尽头。
《王佛保命之道》尤瑟纳尔。
现实即画。
《罕福之行》威廉萨洛扬
完美的对话。
《我们看菊花去》白先勇
残酷的爱。
《箓竹山房》吴组缃
鬼屋。
《午餐》毛姆
高级黑。
《献给艾米丽的玫瑰花》福克纳
自私的爱情。
《萧萧》 沈从文
凄美的乡村生活。
《小径分叉的花园》博尔赫斯
时间迷宫。
《雪中的猎人》 托拜厄斯·沃尔夫
见风使舵。
《一场不算严重的蝗灾》多丽丝莱辛
蝗灾丽景。
《一天》陈村
一天是重复的。
《一只特立独行的猪》王小波
大概也能看作小说。
《婴宁》蒲松龄
没心没肺。
《游仙窟》张鷟
古人逛窑子。 《阿拉比》乔伊斯
幻梦的破灭。
《再见爸爸》约翰·契弗
与虚伪道别。
《鸡蛋》舍伍德安德森
生活的胜利。
《安东诺夫卡苹果》蒲宁
全方位庄园游览图。
《这次我演什么角色》库特·冯尼格
人生如戏。
《南方》博尔赫斯
梦和现实的分界。
《白象似的群山》海明威
冰山效应。
《疯狂时期的大海》马尔克斯
这是《百年孤独》短篇版。
《公道》福克纳
详尽有趣的历史描述。
《魔法外套》迪诺·布扎蒂
有得就有失。
《距离》卡佛
极简主义。
《不值一文的老奶奶》布莱希特
自己的生活。
《射象》乔治奥威尔
违心的事。
《最后一名》埃梅
放弃也是一种智慧。
《相遇》格非
相遇既是开始，又是结局

❻ 经典短篇小说

《羊脂球》，《项链》，莫泊桑的经典作品，你老师肯定认识，就不知道你几年级了，能看懂不？
《鲁滨逊漂流记》 《钢炼》

❼ 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.

❽ 《50：伟大的短篇小说们》txt下载在线阅读，求百度网盘云资源

《50：伟大的短篇小说们》（欧·亨利）电子书网盘下载免费在线阅读

资源链接：

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

书名：50：伟大的短篇小说们

作者：欧·亨利

译者：姚向辉

豆瓣评分：8.1

出版社：天津人民出版社

出版年份：2017-12

页数：480

内容简介：

本书除了收录世界四大短篇小说家欧·亨利、契诃夫、莫泊桑、马克·吐温的代表作，还囊括了诺贝尔文学奖得主泰戈尔、海明威、福克纳，俄语文学三大巨匠普希金、托尔斯泰、陀思妥耶夫斯基，以意识流创作著称的伍尔夫，恐怖美学的践行者爱伦·坡、洛夫克拉夫特，以及在各文学流派中占有一席之地的——霍桑、毛姆、卡夫卡、茨威格、狄更斯、芥川龙之介、菲茨杰拉德等37位大咖们的经典力作。柳鸣九、张英伦、曹明伦、姚向辉、赵玉皎、杨向荣、楼武挺、姜乙、杨蔚等31位权威译者高水准的译本，用词严谨，语言简洁，最大程度地还原原著之美，展现大师们独到的叙事风格和技巧，为你带来一场世界短篇小说的经典盛宴。

作者简介：

作者：世界四大短篇小说家欧·亨利、契诃夫、莫泊桑、马克·吐温；诺贝尔文学奖得主泰戈尔、海明威、福克纳；俄语文学三大巨匠普希金、托尔斯泰、陀思妥耶夫斯基；爱伦·坡、伍尔夫、霍桑、毛姆、卡夫卡、茨威格、狄更斯、芥川龙之介、菲茨杰拉德、洛夫克拉夫特、波德莱尔、舒尔茨、蒲宁、都德等37位各文学流派的领军人物。

译者：法语翻译家柳鸣九、张英伦；德语翻译姜乙、温仁百；日语翻译赵玉皎、黄悦生；爱伦·坡作品研究专家曹明伦；中国俄罗斯文学研究会理事谢周；英美文学翻译杨蔚、姚向辉、杨向荣、楼武挺、雍毅等31位优质译者齐齐献力。高水准译文忠实原著，用词严谨、语言简练。