㈠ 給我4篇有意義的著名短篇小說
這3位是世界三大著名的短篇小說家 （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。 我已經收集了他們的三篇小說，有簡介和全文，這里放不下，留下QQ或郵箱我給你發過去。
㈡ 世界上著名短篇小說的作者有哪些
歐亨利 馬克吐溫 莫泊桑 契訶夫
還有就是「世界短篇小說之王」——蒲松齡
㈢ 名人的著名短篇小說或代表作品
美國歐.亨利<最後一片藤葉><警察與贊美詩><麥琪的禮物>
法國莫泊桑<項鏈><羊脂球><我的叔叔於勒>有以上有三篇語文課本都學過.
傑克.倫敦<一塊牛排>學過
都德<最後一課>學過
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 推薦一些比較著名的短篇小說。
1、 都德
2、很難推薦，短篇小說如果不是專門一個集子，寫的不叫童年，只是寫內小孩而已，推薦 蘇童的大部分短容篇（差不多都是童年，香椿樹街系列） 海明威的《尼克亞當斯故事集》 鐵凝的《哦，香雪》 畢飛宇的《地球上的王家莊》 其實童年類小說還是看長篇或直接看電影比較好 利利·弗蘭克的《東京塔》 高爾基的《童年 在人間 我的大學》 義大利的《西西里島的美麗人生》 伊朗的《小鞋子》，
3、端木蕻良 海明威 大多數短篇
㈥ 中國著名短篇小說有哪些
張潔 愛是不能來忘記的
汪曾自祺 受戒
史鐵生 我的遙遠的清平灣
余華 十八歲出門遠行
嚴歌苓 少女小漁
遲子建 清水洗塵
張愛玲 傾城之戀
信號員
盲人國
死者
一封陌生女子的來信
變形記
羊脂球
項鏈
驛站長
外套
套中人
一個人的遭遇
睡谷的傳說
敗壞優優城鎮的人
麥琪的禮物
警察與贊美詩
熱愛生命
歐亨利的作品耐人尋味,像<<最後一片常春藤頁>>
其他的<<山羊茲拉特>>
<<丹柯>>
<<情書>>(岩井俊二)
雨果： 克洛德.格
歐文： 鬼新郎
左拉： 陪襯人
都德： 三部大彌撒
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