A. 世界上最优秀的短篇小说大师
莫泊桑 “世界短篇小说巨匠”
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。
世界三大短篇小说家有以下三人：
（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（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。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。
B. 寻找你认为最优秀的短篇小说~
THE GIFT OF THE MAGI
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.
C. 世界著名短篇小说作家有哪些
（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。
这3位是世界三大著名的短篇小说家
D. 世界上最杰出的三大中短篇小说家
正如一楼所言 你这个问题有点问题 应该是最杰出的长篇、中篇、短篇小说家吧？反正是内没有容最杰出的中短篇小说家之说
所谓最杰出 有些是公认的 有些是个人封的 每个人喜欢的小说都不一样 他/她看见了 认为是最好的就是最杰出的 我想你是看了网页什么“a52633世界上最杰出的三大中短篇小说家之一张玉书 信件1页”或者“一封陌生女子的来信（世界上最杰出的三大中篇小说家之一茨威格短篇小说精选集）”吧 呵呵 都是一些人个人看法而已
E. 请写出世界上最优秀的三位短篇小说及其代表作:
莫伯桑 《羊脂球》
欧·亨利 《警察与赞美诗》
契诃夫 《变色龙》
F. 世界上最优秀的三位短篇小说大师及其代表作
（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（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。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。
G. 中国最优秀的短篇小说有哪几部
中国的短篇小说来能在世自界范围内称作优秀的，大概只有鲁迅先生的（所有短篇）了吧，像《故乡》，《阿Q正传》，etc。短篇是中国人的痛处，不过近现代中国文坛已是疮痍满目，你可以从日本或西方文学切入研究中国短篇。
H. 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