短篇小说英文
A. 求英语短篇小说
经典短篇小说好多呢！用词比较简单，但意义深刻！更重要的是每一篇都短小精悍！（符合你的要求哦）
1.《生火》杰克.伦敦 To Build a Fire (Jack LondonP
2.《厄谢尔府的倒塌》 爱伦.坡
The Fall of the House of Usher (Edgar Allan Poe)
3.《项链》莫泊桑 The Necklace (Guy de Maupassant)
4.《警察与赞美诗》欧.亨利 The Cop and the Anthem
(O Henry)
5.《麦琪的礼物》欧.亨利 Magi's gift (O Henry)
6.《最后一片藤叶》欧.亨利 The Last Leaf (O Henry)
7.《加利维拉县有名的跳蛙》马克.吐温 The Notorious Jumping Frog of Calaveras County
（Mark Twain)
8.《人生的五种恩赐》马克.吐温
The Five Boons of Life （Mark Twain)
9.《三生客》 托马斯.哈代 The Three Strangers
(Thomas Hardy)
10.《敞开的落地窗》萨基 The Open Window (Saki)
11.《末代佳人》菲茨杰拉德 The Last of the Belles
(F.S.Fitzgerald)
12.《手》舍伍德.安德森 Hands
13.《伊芙琳》詹姆斯.乔伊斯 Eveline
14.《教长的黑色面纱》纳撒尼尔.霍桑
The Minister's Black Veil
B. 推荐一些英文短篇小说
相信你会喜欢这篇短小的小说的。
Appointment With Love －－By Sulamith Ish-Kishor
Six minutes to six, said the great round clock over the information booth in Grand Central Station. The tall young Army lieutenant who had just come from the direction of the tracks lifted his sunburned face, and his eyes narrowed to note the exact time. His heart was pounding with a beat that shocked him because he could not control it. In six minutes, he would see the woman who had filled such a special place in his life for the past 13 months, the woman he had never seen, yet whose written words had been with him and sustained him unfailingly.
He placed himself as close as he could to the information booth, just beyond the ring of people besieging the clerks...
Lieutenant Blandford remembered one night in particular, the worst of the fighting, when his plane had been caught in the midst of a pack of Zeros. He had seen the grinning face of one of the enemy pilots.
In one of his letters, he had confessed to her that he often felt fear, and only a few days before this battle, he had received her answer: "Of course you fear...all brave men do. Didn't King David know fear? That's why he wrote the 23rd Psalm. Next time you doubt yourself, I want you to hear my voice reciting to you: 'Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I shall fear no evil, for Thou art with me.'" And he had remembered; he had heard her imagined voice, and it had renewed his strength and skill.
Now he was going to hear her real voice. Four minutes to six. His face grew sharp.
Under the immense, starred roof, people were walking fast, like threads of color being woven into a gray web. A girl passed close to him, and Lieutenant Blandford started. She was wearing a red flower in her suit lapel, but it was a crimson sweet pea, not the little red rose they had agreed upon. Besides, this girl was too young, about 18, whereas Hollis Meynell had frankly told him she was 30. "Well, what of it?" he had answered. "I'm 32." He was 29.
His mind went back to that book - the book the Lord Himself must have put into his hands out of the hundreds of Army library books sent to the Florida training camp. Of Human Bondage, it was; and throughout the book were notes in a woman's writing. He had always hated that writing-in habit, but these remarks were different. He had never believed that a woman could see into a man's heart so tenderly, so understandingly. Her name was on the bookplate: Hollis Meynell. He had got hold of a New York City telephone book and found her address. He had written, she had answered. Next day he had been shipped out, but they had gone on writing.
For 13 months, she had faithfully replied, and more than replied. When his letters did not arrive she wrote anyway, and now he believed he loved her, and she loved him.
But she had refused all his pleas to send him her photograph. That seemed rather bad, of course. But she had explained: "If your feeling for me has any reality, any honest basis, what I look like won't matter. Suppose I'm beautiful. I'd always be haunted by the feeling that you had been taking a chance on just that, and that kind of love would disgust me. Suppose I'm plain (and you must admit that this is more likely). Then I'd always fear that you were going on writing to me only because you were lonely and had no one else. No, don't ask for my picture. When you come to New York, you shall see me and then you shall make your decision. Remember, both of us are free to stop or to go on after that - whichever we choose..."
One minute to six - Lieutenant Blandford's heart leaped higher than his plane had ever done.
A young woman was coming toward him. Her figure was long and slim; her blond hair lay back in curls from her delicate ears. Her eyes were blue as flowers, her lips and chin had a gentle firmness. In her pale green suit, she was like springtime come alive.
He started toward her, entirely forgetting to notice that she was wearing no rose, and as he moved, a small, provocative smile curved her lips.
"Going my way, soldier?" she murmured.
Uncontrollably, he made one step closer to her. Then he saw Hollis Meynell.
She was standing almost directly behind the girl, a woman well past 40, her graying hair tucked under a worn hat. She was more than plump; her thick-ankled feet were thrust into low-heeled shoes. But she wore a red rose in the rumpled lapel of her brown coat.
The girl in the green suit was walking quickly away.
Blandford felt as though he were being split in two, so keen was his desire to follow the girl, yet so deep was his longing for the woman whose spirit had truly companioned and upheld his own; and there she stood. Her pale, plump face was gentle and sensible; he could see that now. Her gray eyes had a warm, kindly twinkle.
Lieutenant Blandford did not hesitate. His fingers gripped the small worn, blue leather of Of Human Bondage, which was to identify him to her. This would not be love, but it would be something precious, something perhaps even rarer than love - a friendship for which he had been and must ever be grateful.
He squared his broad shoulders, saluted and held the book out toward the woman, although even while he spoke he felt shocked by the bitterness of his disappointment.
"I'm Lieutenant John Blandford, and you - you are Miss Meynell. I'm so glad you could meet me. May...may I take you to dinner?"
The woman's face broadened in a tolerant smile. "I don't know what this is all about, son," she answered. "That young lady in the green suit - the one who just went by - begged me to wear this rose on my coat. And she said that if you asked me to go out with you, I should tell you that she's waiting for you in that big restaurant across the street. She said it was some kind of a test. I've got two boys with Uncle Sam myself, so I didn't mind to oblige you."
C. 感人的英文短篇小说
第一节；在一个孤独的小岛上，叶子慌乱地奔跑着。 一个面目不清的男人在后面紧紧追着她，好几次那男人似乎一伸手就能捉住她了。
叶子没命地跑，然而总是跑不快，双脚好象是灌满了铅一样沉。
叶子想呼叫，却叫不出声。叶子已经跑不动了，而且在她面前是一片汪洋，她无处可逃。
叶子瘫痪在地上，她惊恐地回过头，却不见了那个男人。她刚吁了一口气，却发现一条浑身血红的蛇正在向她爬来。
叶子挣扎着要逃，却怎么都站不起来。而且她发现，不知什么时候她已经变得赤身裸体的了！
血红的蛇昂着血红的头向她爬来，叶子绝望地闭上了眼睛。
然而，血红的蛇并没咬她，而是顺着她的脚往上爬。她感到蛇身的圆润滑爽，触在她小腿的肌肤上，竟有一种莫名的快意。血红的蛇还在往上爬，经过她的大腿时，她甚至感觉到了一种似曾相识的温润。
那高昂的血红的蛇头注视着她，似乎在做进攻前的准备。
叶子忽然想起什么，急忙用双手捂住下身。
那血红的蛇头犹豫了一下，突然迅猛地直插了过来，从她的手指间顺利地进入了她的身体！
叶子失声尖叫起来！
叶子终于从梦境中惊醒了过来，小夜灯粉色的光温柔地充满卧室的空间。她伸手开了床头灯。这时，她感觉到了身体某个地方的湿润。
她不明白最近为什么总在做这些离奇古怪的梦，而每次做梦总和她的身体有关…… 一场突如其来的大雨，把这座城市笼罩在了昏暗的雨雾中。
叶子站在中天大厦最高一层的落地玻璃窗前，看着雨水顺着玻璃不停地向下流淌，仿佛是千万条悬空的小溪。
因为加班赶一份文案，叶子没能按时下班赶在大雨到来之前回去。虽然，在下班前就已经预见这场大雨。所以当同事们尤其是那些女孩子在下班前几分钟，就在嚷嚷着呼朋唤友地准备逃离写字楼时，叶子仍然埋头在电脑前，不为所动。
叶子觉得下雨没什么可怕的，相反倒是给人一种清新的空气。大雨洗涤过的城市特别干净，就连树木花草都显得格外清新。怕下雨的不过是那些故作娇柔的女孩子的一种作态罢了。
但当她终于把手头的工作做完时，她才发现，这场大雨没她想的那么简单。从下班前几分钟就一直下到现在，而且丝毫没有要停下来的意思。
刚开始，叶子还心情很好地站在窗前居高临下地欣赏雨景。然而，随着时间的推移，她看到大雨一点也没有变小，她开始有点心急了。而且，大厦管理员已经第三次敲她的门，示意她大厦要清场了。
叶子不得不离开写字楼，下到楼底站在大厦的门廊，雨势还是没有减退。
大街上几乎没有行人，只有各种各样的车辆在雨幕中穿梭，飞驰的车轮溅起两扇白色的水花。
也许天黑这雨也停不了，叶子开始有点着急起来。她住在郊外的鸣泉山庄，过了八点就没有专线车了。打出租车至少要花七、八十元钱，这是她一天的工资了。而且这大雨天，出租车也不是那么好打的。一想到这，一向沉静的叶子不由得也急躁起来，不时四处张望着，希望能有空的出租车从这里经过，但很快她就气馁了，因为这么长的时间，她没有看到一辆出租车是空的。
叶子心一急，就不停地原地踏步。恍惚中她感觉到好像有人在注意她。她回过头，果然离她不远的地方，站着一个四十岁左右的男人，正注视着她，而且那目光中分明含有一种轻薄的成分。
男人，尤其是这种年龄的男人，在看年轻漂亮的女孩子时，都用这种目光，那是一种恨不得马上扒掉别人衣服的目光，阴郁暧昧而充满欲望。
叶子厌恶地把脸转过一边，对这种男人，她心里充满了鄙视和厌恶。
一辆白色的别克轿车驶来，停在了门廊前。那男人走过来打开车门上了车，坐在车上，他朝叶子笑了笑，说：“小姐，要不要送你？你看这雨下得好大的！”
从发现他的那时起，叶子就知道他会这么说。叶子心里冷笑了一下，不理他。
那男人自讨没趣，只好尴尬地笑了笑关上了车门，轿车无声地向前滑了出去。看着远去的车尾，叶子突然感到自已刚才有点过分了，不管怎么样，出于礼节也应该对他说声谢谢，或许人家真的是出于好心。叶子感觉到自已有点失态了。
都是这该死的雨！
忽然，那车又回来了，不过是亮着倒车灯倒回来的，一直倒到叶子的身边才停下，车门打开，那男人下车递给叶子一把雨伞，说：“小姐，这伞您先用着吧，这雨怕是一时半时停不了的。”
“这？”叶子几乎是没有犹豫就接过了伞，并对他连声道谢。他笑了笑转身上了车，关上了车门。
“哎，先生，这伞我怎么还给你呀？”叶子追上前问。
“不用还了，送你用吧。”他欲摇上车窗。
“那怎么行，先生，这伞我是一定要还给你的。”叶子说。
他沉吟了一下，递给叶子一张名片说：“如果要还，你就打电话给我罢。”说完关上车窗走了。
“谢谢！”叶子冲着远去的车喊道。 叶子终于赶上了末班专线车，回到鸣泉山庄时，天已经完全黑了下来。叶子顺便在山庄街市吃了一碗面，就算吃了晚餐了。她到超市买了些水果就上楼了。
这两居室是以月租一千元人民币从一个姓杨的香港人手里租下来的。鸣泉山庄因为远离市区，交通不是很方便。因此住在这里的大都是有私家车的业主，他们大多数都是住在掬水湾别墅区。高层住宅区主要是一些在广州打工的白领阶层购买的。也有一部分是像杨先生那样的香港人买了作为回内地时的歇脚点，他们当中更多的是作为和内地情人幽会用的。因为他们知道在大陆租房子和情人幽会，风险极高。不但手续繁琐，光是那些名目繁多的检查就让人心惊肉跳。所以有点钱的香港人都喜欢买一套房子放在内地让情人居住，自已则在周末和节假日回来幽会。毕竟是业主，没有人会来麻烦。而更多的则是象叶子这样的租住户，虽然他们也算是白领，但属于那种还没有在广州站稳脚跟的白领，和那些四处漂泊的民工不同的是，他们从事的工作相对来说比较体面，收入也比较高并且相对稳定。
在广州，拥有一套属于自已的房产，就等于在广州市有了合法的身份。否则，就永远是盲流和“三无人员”，面临着随时被罚款、拘留、送进收容站的危险。
D. 短篇小说用英语怎么说
短篇小说：
翻译： short story;
双语例句：
这本集子是由诗、散文和短篇小说三部分组合而成的。
This collection is made up of three parts: poems, essays and short stories.
E. 小说用英语怎么说
1、Novel，英[ˈnɒvl]， 美[ˈnɑ:vl]。长篇小说，新法，附律。新奇的，异常的。
2、Novel近义词fiction和story。
3、Sheldon writes every day of the week, dictating his novels in the morning.谢尔登一周七天都要写作，每天上午口述小说让别人记录。
4、Both her novels won prizes.她的两部小说都获了奖。
5、Novel是长篇小说，story是短篇小说，fiction是小说的总称。
(5)短篇小说英文扩展阅读
1、Dickens 'novels have enriched English literature.狄更斯的小说丰富了英国文学。
2、She is a prolific writer of novels and short stories.她是一位多产的作家，写了很多小说和短篇故事。
3、His works are included in this anthology of stories.这本小说集收录了他的作品。
4、The novel portrays the growth of a fighter.这本小说描写了一个战士的成长。
5、Sara and I read the story and marveled.我和萨拉读了这部小说后惊叹不已。
6、This novel has been made into a film.这部小说已拍成电影了。
F. 介绍几部经典英文短篇小说
（少年维特的烦恼)，我正在看，可能不算短篇吧。但是它的英文我觉得还比较容易好理解。
G. 长篇小说，中篇小说，短篇小说用英语怎么说
字数的多少，是区别长篇、中篇、短篇小说的一个因素，但不是惟一的因素。人们通常把几千字到两万字的小说称为短篇小说，三万字到十万字的小说称为中篇小说，十万字以上的称为长篇小说。这只是就字数而言的，其实，长、中、短篇小说的区别，主要是由作品反映生活的范围、作品的容量来决定的。长篇小说容量最大，最广阔，篇幅也比较长，具有比较复杂的结构，它一般是通过比较多的人物和纷繁的事件来表现社会生活的，如《红楼梦》。中篇小说反映生活的范围虽不像长篇那样广阔，但也能反映出一定广度的生活面，它的人物的多寡、情节的繁简介于长篇与短篇之间，如《人到中年》。短篇小说的特点是紧凑、短小精悍，它往往只写了一个或很少几个人物，描写了生活的一个片断或插曲。短篇小说所反映的生活虽不及长篇、中篇广阔，但也同样是完整的，有些还具有深刻、丰富的社会意义。
H. 任何一篇英美短篇小说的英语论文
《呼啸山庄》人物关系结构
Title：
Catherine's dilemma between love and marriage in Wuthering Heights
——The Psychoanalysis of love triangle relationship with Freud’s theory of personality
Abstract：
Wuthering Heights tells a story of superhuman love and revenge enacted on the English moors. In this thesis, an attempt is made to analyze the love triangle relationship which leads to Catherine's dilemma between love and marriage in Wuthering Heights by virtue of Freud’s theory of personality.
Key words：
Wuthering Heights Freud’s theory of personality love triangle relationship
In Catherine's heart she knows what is right, but chooses what is wrong. It is her wrong decision that pushes her into the inextricable [LunWenJia.Com]dilemma between her love and marriage; it is her wrong choice that plunges the two families into chaos. In the mind, she is truly out of her way.
According to Sigmund Freud(1856—1939), the structure of the mind or personality consists three portions: the id, the ego, and the superego.“The id, which is the reservoir of biological impulses, constitutes the entire personality of the infant at birth. Its principle of operation, to guard the person from painful tension, is termed the pleasure principle. Inevitable frustrations of the id, together with what the child learns from his encounters with external reality, generate the ego, which is essentially a mechanism to minimize frustrations of the biological drives in the long run. It operates according to the reality principle … [LunWenNet.Com]The superego comprises the conscience, a partly conscious system of introjected moral inhibitions, and the ego-ideal, the source of the indivial's standards for his own behavior. Like external reality, from which it derives, the superego often presents obstacles to the satisfaction of biological drives.”“In the mentally healthy person, these three systems form a unified and harmon
ious organization. Conversely, when the three systems of personality are at odds with one another the person is said to be maladjusted.” Here Catherine's tragic psychological process may be well illustrated by Freudian psychoanalysis.
“I cannot express it; but surely you and everybody have a notion that there is, or should be, an existence of yours beyond you. What were the use of my creation, if I were entirely contained here？” Catherine's strange words reflect that the intelligent Emily Bronte had been earlier pondering over a same question in her work. What on earth is“the existence of Catherine's beyond Catherine”？
Here we may believe that Heathcliff stands for Catherine's instinctual nature and the strongest desire—her “id” in the depths of her soul; Edgar, her ideal “superego”, represents another part of her personality: the well-bred gracefulness and the superiority of a wealthy family; and she, herself is the “ego” tortured by the friction between the two in the disharmonious situation.
In the light of Freud's theory of personality, “the superego is the representation in the personality of the traditional values and ideals of society as they are handed down from parents to children.” Catherine's choice of Edgar as her husband is to satisfy her ideal “superego” to get wealth and high social position, which are the symbol of her class, on the basis of the ecation by her family and reality from her early childhood. She is a Miss of a noble family with a long history of about three hundred years. Only the marriage well-matched in social and economic status could be a satisfaction for all: her family, the society and even her practical self. “It would degrade me to many Heathcliff now ... if Heathcliff and I married, we should be beggars？” This is her actual worry for her future. Catherine yields to the pressure from her brother, and alike, in truth, she is yielding to the moral rules of society, without the approval and identification of which, she could not live a better life or even exist i
n it at all.
However, Catherine underestimates what her other more intrinsic self would have effect on her. The most remarkable claim by Catherine herself may be the best convincing evidence to distinguish the different roles of Heathcliff and Edgar—her “id” and her “superego”:
“My great miseries in this world have been Heathcliff's miseries, and I watched and felt each from the beginning: my great thought in living is himself. If all else perished, and he remained, I should still continue to be; and if all else perished, and he was annihilated, the universe would turn to a mighty stranger: I should not seem a part of it. My love for Linton is like foliage in the woods: time will change it. I'm well aware, as winter changes the trees. My love for Heathcliff resembles the eternal rocks beneath: a source of little visible delight, but necessary. Nelly, I'm Heathcliff! He's always, always in my mind: not as a pleasure and more than I am always a pleasure to me, but as my own being. So don't talk of our separation again: it is impracticable.”
It was a happy thought to make her love the kind, wealthy, weak, elegant Edgar, yet in submission to her superego to oppose against her id, she would fall into a loss of the self. Since the id is the most primitive basis of personality, and the ego is formed out of the id, Catherine's life depends wholly on Heathcliff， as the whole connotation and truth of her life in the cosmic world, for its existence and further more for the significance of her existence. Heathcliff is the most necessary part of her being. She marries Edgar, but Heathcliff still clutches her soul in his passionate embrace. Although she is a bit ashamed of her early playmate, she loves him with a passionate abandonment that sets culture, ecation, the world at defiance. Catherine's wrong choice for marriage violates her inner desires. The choice is a victory for self-inlgence—a sacrifice of primary to secondary things. And she pays for it.
On one hand, Catherine doesn't find the heavenly happiness she was longing for. Though as a girl “full of ambition”and “to be the greatest woman of the neighborhood” would be her pride, the enviable marriage could only flatter her vanity for a second. After her marriage, the comfortable and peaceful life in the Grange was just a monotonous and lifeless confinement of her soul. She feels chocked by the artificial and unnatural conditions in the closed Thrushcross Grange— a world in which the mind has hardened and become unalterable.“If I were in heaven, Nelly, I should be extremely miserable. ” Catherine eventually knows that the Lintons' heaven is not her ideal heaven. She and Heathcliff really possess their common heaven. Just as Catherine says,“Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same; and Linton's is as different as a moonbeam from lightning, or frost from fire.”
Catherine doesn't want to live in the Lintons' heaven; on the other hand, she has lost her own paradise that she ever had with Heathcliff on the bare hard moor in their childhood. The deepest bent of her nature announces her destiny—a wanderer between the two worlds. When she is alive, she occupies a position midway between the two. She belongs in a sense to both and is constantly drawn first in Heathcliff's direction, then in Edgar's, and then in Heathcliff's again and at last she loses herself completely. Her childish illusion to use her husband's money to aid Heatllcliff to rise out of her brother's power has vanished in thin air. And her constant struggle to reconcile two irreconcilable ways of life is in vain too, which only caused more disorder in the two worlds and in herself as well.
In Freudian principles, should the ego continually fail in its task of satisfying the demands of the id, these three factors together—the painful repression of the id's instinctual desires, the guilt conscience of revolt against the superego's wishes, and the frustration of failure in finding outlets in the external world- would contribute to ever-increasing anxiety. The anxiety piles up and finally overwhelms the person. When this happens, the person is said to leave hallucinatory wish-fulfillment, then a nervous radical breakdown, and in the end may finish the person off. Catherine is destroyed into psychic fragmentation by the friction between the two. At the height of her Edgan-Heathcliff torment, Catherine lies delirious on the floor at the Grange. She dreams that she is back in her own old bed at Wuthering Heights “enclosed in the oak-paneled bed at home, and my heart ached with some great grief…my misery arose from the separation that Hindley had ordered between me and Heathcliff.”Still dreaming, she t
ries to push back the panels of the oak bed, only to find herself touching the table and the carpet at the Grange:“My late anguish was swallowed in a paroxysm of despair. I cannot say why I was so wildly wretched ... and my all in all, as Heathcliff was at that time, and been converted at a stroke into Mrs. Linton...the wife of a stranger: an exile, and outcast.” She attempts to forget the lengthy days of years of life without her soul even in her temporary derangement.“Most strangely, the whole last seven years of my life grew a blank! I did not recall that they had been at all.” Her mental and physical decay rapidly leads to the body's mortal end. She dies and seems to have none into perfect peace.
But even after her death, she is still a wandering ghost. In Chapter 3, Lockwood, the lodger in Catherine's oak-paneled bed at Wuthering Heights dreams about the little wailing ghost:
“The intense horror of nightmare came over me: I tried to draw back my arm, but the hand clung to it, and a most melancholy voice sobbed, ‘Let me in-Let me in’.‘ Who are you?’…‘Catherine Linton’, it replied, shiveringly…‘I'm come home: I'd lost my way on the moor!’…Terror made me cruel; and finding it useless to attempt shaking the creature off, I pulled its wrist on to the broken pane, and rubbed it to and fro till then blood ran down and soaked the bedclothes: still it wailed, ‘Let me in!’…it is twenty years, twenty years. I've been a waif for twenty years!”
Catherine aspires to be back in her heaven even being a spirit. But leer self-deceptive decision has made her fall from her and Heathcliff's heaven full of demonic love and her never docile or submissive nature has drawn her out of her and Edgar's heaven filled with civilized emptiness in the meantime. She pushes herself into her tragedy, the endless dilemma between her love and marriage, which won't end up with her death.
Bibliography：
1.Bronte Emily，Wuthering Heights，Beijing：Foreign Language Teaching and Research Press，London：Oxford University Press 1995
2.Freud Sigmund，Interpretation of Dreams，Beijing：Foreign Language Teaching and Research Press 2001
3.Travis Trysh，Heathcliff and Cathy，the Dysfunctional Couple，The Chronicle of Higher Ecation，Washington，2001
4.Steinitz Rebecca，Diaries and Displacement in Wuthering Heights，Studies in the Novel，Denton，2000
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