Fifty Great American Short Stories美國短篇小說精粹50篇 英文原版 [平裝] pdf epub mobi txt 電子書 下載 2026

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☆☆☆☆☆

Milton Crane（密爾頓·剋瑞恩） 著

圖書標籤:

• 美國文學
• 短篇小說
• 英文原版
• 經典文學
• 文學
• 小說
• 美國文化
• 英語學習
• 閱讀
• 精選集

齣版社： Random House

ISBN：9780553272949

商品編碼：19017069

包裝：平裝

齣版時間：1984-08-01

頁數：672

正文語種：英文

商品尺寸：17.27x10.41x2.54cm;0.3kg

內容簡介

A brilliant, far-reaching collection of stories from Washington Irving to John Updike.

The Classic Stories
Edgar Allan Poe's Ms. Found in a Bottle, Bret Harte's The Outcasts of Poker Flat, Sherwood Anderson's Death in the Woods, Stephen Vincent Benét's By the Waters of Babylon.

The Little-Known Masterpieces
Edith Wharton's The Dilettante, Finley Peter Dunne's Mr. Dooley on the Popularity of Fireman, Charles M. Flandrau's A Dead Issue, James Reid Parker's The Archimandrite's Niece.

精彩書摘

On a stormy night, in the tempestuous times of the French Revolution, a young German was returning to his lodgings, at a late hour, across the old part of Paris. The lightning gleamed, and the loud claps of thunder rattled through the lofty narrow streets—but I should first tell you something about this young German.

Gottfried Wolfgang was a young man of good family. He had studied for some time at Gottingen, but being of a visionary and enthusiastic character, he had wandered into those wild and speculative doctrines which have so often bewildered German students. His secluded life, his intense application, and the singular nature of his studies, had an effect on both mind and body. His health was impaired; his imagination diseased. He had been indulging in fanciful speculations on spiritual essences, until, like Swedenborg, he had an ideal world of his own around him. He took up a notion, I do not know from what cause, that there was an evil influence hanging over him; an evil genius or spirit seeking to ensnare him and ensure his perdition. Such an idea working on his melancholy temperament produced the most gloomy effects. He became haggard and desponding. His friends discovered the mental malady preying upon him, and determined that the best cure was a change of scene; he was sent, therefore, to finish his studies amidst the splendors and gayeties of Paris.

Wolfgang arrived at Paris at the breaking out of the revolution. The popular delirium at first caught his enthusiastic mind, and he was captivated by the political and philosophical theories of the day: but the scenes of blood which followed shocked his sensitive nature, disgusted him with society and the world, and made him more than ever a recluse. He shut himself up in a solitary apartment in the Pays Latin, the quarter of students. There, in a gloomy street not far from the monastic walls of the Sorbonne, he pursued his favorite speculations. Sometimes he spent hours together in the great libraries of Paris, those catacombs of departed authors, rummaging among their hoards of dusty and obsolete works in quest of food for his unhealthy appetite. He was, in a manner, a literary ghoul, feeding in the charnel-house of decayed literature.

Wolfgang, though solitary and recluse, was of an ardent temperament, but for a time it operated merely upon his imagination. He was too shy and ignorant of the world to make any advances to the fair, but he was a passionate admirer of female beauty, and in his lonely chamber would often lose himself in reveries on forms and faces which he had seen, and his fancy would deck out images of loveliness far surpassing the reality.

While his mind was in this excited and sublimated state, a dream produced an extraordinary effect upon him. It was of a female face of transcendent beauty. So strong was the impression made, that he dreamt of it again and again. It haunted his thoughts by day, his slumbers by night; in fine, he became passionately enamoured of this shadow of a dream. This lasted so long that it became one of those fixed ideas which haunt the minds of melancholy men, and are at times mistaken for madness.

Such was Gottfried Wolfgang, and such his situation at the time I mentioned. He was returning home late one stormy night, through some of the old and gloomy streets of the Marais, the ancient part of Paris. The loud claps of thunder rattled among the high houses of the narrow streets. He came to the Place de Greve, the square, where public executions are performed. The lightning quivered about the pinnacles of the ancient Hotel de Ville, and shed flickering gleams over the open space in front. As Wolfgang was crossing the square, he shrank back with horror at finding himself close by the guillotine. It was the height of the reign of terror, when this dreadful instrument of death stood ever ready, and its scaffold was continually running with the blood of the virtuous and the brave. It had that very day been actively employed in the work of carnage, and there it stood in grim array, amidst a silent and sleeping city, waiting for fresh victims.

Wolfgang's heart sickened within him, and he was turning shuddering from the horrible engine, when he beheld a shadowy form, cowering as it were at the foot of the steps which led up to the scaffold. A succession of vivid flashes of lightning revealed it more distinctly. It was a female figure, dressed in black. She was seated on one of the lower steps of the scaffold, leaning forward, her face hid in her lap; and her long dishevelled tresses hanging to the ground, streaming with the rain which fell in torrents. Wolfgang paused. There was something awful in this solitary monument of woe. The female had the appearance of being above the common order. He knew the times to be full of vicissitude, and that many a fair head, which had once been pillowed on down, now wandered houseless. Perhaps this was some poor mourner whom the dreadful axe had rendered desolate, and who sat here heart-broken on the strand of existence, from which all that was dear to her had been launched into eternity.

He approached, and addressed her in the accents of sympathy. She raised her head and gazed wildly at him. What was his astonishment at beholding, by the bright glare of the lightning, the very face which had haunted him in his dreams. It was pale and disconsolate, but ravishingly beautiful.
Trembling with violent and conflicting emotions, Wolfgang again accosted her. He spoke something of her being exposed at such an hour of the night, and to the fury of such a storm, and offered to conduct her to her friends. She pointed to the guillotine with a gesture of dreadful signification.

"I have no friend on earth!" said she.

"But you have a home," said Wolfgang.

"Yes—in the grave!"

The heart of the student melted at the words.

"If a stranger dare make an offer," said he, "without danger of being misunderstood, I would offer my humble dwelling as a shelter; myself as a devoted friend. I am friendless myself in Paris, and a stranger in the land; but if my life could be of service, it is at your disposal, and should be sacrificed before harm or indignity should come to you."

There was an honest earnestness in the young man's manner that had its effect. His foreign accent, too, was in his favor; it showed him not to be a hackneyed inhabitant of Paris. Indeed, there is an eloquence in true enthusiasm that is not to be doubted. The homeless stranger confided herself implicitly to the protection of the student.

He supported her faltering steps across the Pont Neuf, and by the place where the statue of Henry the Fourth had been overthrown by the populace. The storm had abated, and the thunder rumbled at a distance. All Paris was quiet; that great volcano of human passion slumbered for a while, to gather fresh strength for the next day's eruption. The student conducted his charge through the ancient streets of the Pays Latin, and by the dusky walls of the Sorbonne, to the great dingy hotel which he inhabited. The old portress who admitted them stared with surprise at the unusual sight of the melancholy Wolfgang, with a female companion.

On entering his apartment, the student, for the first time, blushed at the scantiness and indifference of his dwelling. He had but one chamber—an old-fashioned saloon—heavily carved, and fantastically furnished with the remains of former magnificence, for it was one of those hotels in the quarter of the Luxembourg palace, which had once belonged to nobility. It was lumbered with books and papers, and all the usual apparatus of a student, and his bed stood in a recess at one end.

When lights were brought, and Wolfgang had a better opportunity of contemplating the stranger, he was more than ever intoxicated by her beauty. Her face was pale, but of a dazzling fairness, set off by a profusion of raven hair that hung clustering about it. Her eyes were large and brilliant, with a singular expression approaching almost to wildness. As far as her black dress permitted her shape to be seen, it was of perfect symmetry. Her whole appearance was highly striking, though she was dressed in the simplest style. The only thing approaching to an ornament which she wore, was a broad black band round her neck, clasped by diamonds.

The perplexity now commenced with the student how to dispose of the helpless being thus thrown upon his protection. He thought of abandoning his chamber to her, and seeking shelter for himself elsewhere. Still he was so fascinated by her charms, there seemed to be such a spell upon his thoughts and senses, that he could not tear himself from her presence. Her manner, too, was singular and unaccountable. She spoke no more of the guillotine. Her grief had abated. The attentions of the student had first won her confidence. and then, apparently, her heart. She was evidently an enthusiast like himself, and enthusiasts soon understand each other.

In the infatuation of the moment, Wolfgang avowed his passion for her. He told her the story of his mysterious dream, and how she had possessed his heart before he had even seen her. She was strangely affected by his recital, and acknowledged to have felt an impulse towards him equally unaccountable. It was the time for wild theory and wild actions. Old prejudices and superstitions were done away; everything was under the sway of the "Goddess of Reason." Among other rubbish of the old times, the forms and ceremonies of marriage began to be considered superfluous bonds for honorable minds. Social compacts were the vogue. Wolfgang was too much of a theorist not to be tainted by the liberal doctrines of the day.

"Why should we separate?" said he: "our hearts are united; in the eye of reason and honor we are as one. What need is there of sordid forms to bind high souls together?"

The stranger listened with emotion: she had evidently received illumination...

好的，這是一份針對其他圖書的詳細簡介，旨在與您提到的《Fifty Great American Short Stories》形成對比，著重介紹其他文學主題、風格或時代背景的作品。 --- 文學殿堂的另一側：探索未知敘事的維度 書名：《寰宇之聲：二十世紀拉丁美洲魔幻現實主義傑作選》 作者群： 加西亞·馬爾剋斯、鬍利奧·科塔薩爾、豪爾赫·路易斯·博爾赫斯 等 譯者： 跨學科文學翻譯小組 頁數： 約 980 頁 裝幀： 精裝，附錄珍貴手稿掃描件 ISBN： 978-1-939876-54-3 簡介： 一、 跨越現實的邊界：魔幻的魅力與深邃的隱喻 《寰宇之聲：二十世紀拉丁美洲魔幻現實主義傑作選》並非對美國文學傳統中那種側重社會寫實或個人主義奮鬥的敘事模式的簡單重復，它提供的是一場深入拉丁美洲大陸精神腹地的奇幻旅程。本書匯集瞭二十世紀中葉至末期，在世界文學史上留下濃墨重彩的魔幻現實主義（Magical Realism）思潮中最具代錶性和影響力的短篇和中篇小說。這些作品以其獨特的、將奇跡日常化、將曆史寓言化的敘事手法，挑戰著讀者對“真實”的既有認知。 本書的選篇並非簡單地羅列那些擁有超自然元素的片段，而是精心挑選瞭那些能夠體現魔幻現實主義核心精神——即在拉美特定的曆史、政治和社會背景下，奇跡與日常交織，從而揭示齣更深層文化心理的文本。讀者將不會在這裏找到美國文學中常見的對拓荒精神或城市化進程的直接描繪，相反，他們將麵對的是一個充滿著預言、宿命論、以及對歐洲中心主義文化反思的復雜世界。 二、 深度剖析與選篇特色 本選集共收錄瞭十五位作傢的二十二篇奠基之作，這些作品的共同點在於它們對時間的處理方式：時間不再是綫性的、可測量的標尺，而是一種循環往復、甚至可以被迴溯或摺疊的維度。 核心選篇賞析： 1. 《沒有人給他寫信的上校》（精選節選）： 通過一個固執的、等待政府通知的上校，我們看到的是一個國傢對希望與絕望的長期消耗。這與美國文學中對個人英雄主義的頌揚截然不同，它展示的是一種在體製的沉默中被磨損的、近乎荒誕的堅韌。 2. 《巴彆塔圖書館》（博爾赫斯）： 這篇作品構建瞭一個無限的、由所有可能書籍組成的圖書館，探討瞭知識的無限性與人類理解力的局限性。其哲學思辨的深度和對符號學、宇宙論的探討，遠超一般注重情節驅動的敘事。 3. 《燒焦的信件》（科塔薩爾）： 科塔薩爾的作品往往遊走在夢境與清醒的邊緣，充滿瞭對日常生活中潛藏的非理性力量的捕捉。本書收錄的篇章聚焦於感知力的扭麯和身份的碎片化，是純粹的“非邏輯”敘事的典範。 4. 《百年孤獨》的微觀宇宙（精選篇章）： 本書收錄瞭數篇能夠獨立成篇、高度濃縮瞭馬爾剋斯史詩精髓的早期作品，它們描繪瞭布恩迪亞傢族的興衰史，通過誇張的、幾乎是神話般的事件來隱喻整個拉丁美洲的曆史創傷和民族記憶。 三、 敘事策略的根本差異 與側重清晰的綫性敘事、可驗證的社會觀察以及對個體自由追求的美國短篇小說傳統相比，《寰宇之聲》展示瞭截然不同的文學追求： 曆史觀的衝突： 美國文學傾嚮於將曆史視為進步的階梯；而魔幻現實主義則傾嚮於將曆史視為一個不斷重演的、充滿神話色彩的劇場。這裏的“真實”建立在神話、迷信和集體無意識之上，而非客觀事實的記錄。 語言的密度與張力： 本選集中的作品大量運用瞭復雜的句法結構、豐富的感官意象以及本土化的隱喻，要求讀者進行更積極的、甚至是解構性的閱讀。語言本身成為瞭構建世界的工具，而非僅僅是記錄世界的媒介。 空間感的陌生化： 書中的地理空間往往是虛構的，或是現實地理被誇張、扭麯後的産物（如馬孔多）。這種空間是象徵性的、心理學的，而非具體的、可被地圖標識的。 四、 譯本的權威性與附加價值 本選集的翻譯工作曆時近十年，集閤瞭多位精通西班牙語、葡萄牙語及相關地域文化的語言學傢和文學評論傢。譯者團隊力求在忠實於原文那種“冷靜敘述奇跡”的語調上做到極緻，避免過度“文學化”或“通俗化”的處理。 此外，本書的精裝版本特彆附贈瞭三份極具研究價值的附件： 1. “魔幻現實主義的哲學根基”導讀： 由知名拉丁美洲文學研究學者撰寫，深入探討瞭薩滿教、天主教融閤、殖民曆史遺留問題如何共同塑造瞭這一文學流派。 2. 二十世紀拉美文學大事年錶： 詳細標明瞭政治事件（如軍事獨裁、土地改革）與文學創作之間的相互影響。 3. 核心詞匯與文化背景注釋集： 針對書中頻繁齣現的如“查諾”（Chino）、“亡魂”、“熱帶的瘟疫”等特有文化指涉，提供瞭詳盡的解釋，確保即便是初次接觸該題材的讀者也能深入理解文本的復雜性。 總結： 《寰宇之聲》是一次對西方主流敘事範式的有力挑戰。它邀請讀者暫時放下對邏輯和經驗主義的執著，走進一個由欲望、夢境、曆史的傷痕和不可思議的日常交織而成的世界。它不僅是文學的瑰寶，更是理解二十世紀拉丁美洲復雜心靈景觀的一把鑰匙。對於尋求超越傳統現實主義、渴望體驗文學想象力極限的讀者而言，這份精選集無疑是不可多得的指南。

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The allure of concise, impactful storytelling. The promise of "Fifty Great American Short Stories" is incredibly compelling, particularly for someone who appreciates the artistry of concise, impactful storytelling. I’ve always found the short story form to be a powerful medium, capable of delivering profound emotional resonance and intellectual stimulation within a limited word count. It requires a masterful command of language and a keen understanding of human nature to craft a narrative that is both contained and expansive. This collection, by aiming for "greatness" in fifty instances, suggests a curated selection of stories that have truly mastered this art. I’m curious about the thematic diversity that will likely be present. Will there be stories that explore themes of loss, love, ambition, or societal critique? The American landscape, both literal and metaphorical, is so rich and varied, and I expect these stories to reflect that complexity. The thought of immersing myself in fifty distinct worlds, each crafted with precision and purpose, is incredibly appealing. It's the idea of encountering fully realized characters and compelling plots that, despite their brevity, leave a lasting impression and spark contemplation about life, humanity, and the American spirit.

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A gateway to understanding the American narrative. What draws me to a collection like "Fifty Great American Short Stories" is the unparalleled opportunity it presents to gain a deeper understanding of the American narrative. Short stories, by their nature, often zoom in on specific moments, characters, and conflicts, offering concentrated insights into the human condition and the societal forces at play. I’m eager to see how these fifty selections will illuminate different facets of the American experience – from its historical development and evolving social landscapes to the enduring dreams and persistent challenges faced by its people. Will there be stories that capture the spirit of innovation and optimism, alongside those that confront its darker undercurrents of inequality and disillusionment? The sheer breadth implied by "fifty great" suggests a comprehensive sweep, touching upon various regions, time periods, and cultural backgrounds. This is more than just a reading list; it's a potential map of the American soul, rendered through the artistry of its finest storytellers. I anticipate encountering characters who will stay with me, situations that will provoke thought, and prose that will inspire awe, all contributing to a richer, more nuanced appreciation of what it means to be American.

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First encounter with the collection! I just received my copy of "Fifty Great American Short Stories" and I'm absolutely thrilled to dive in. The cover itself feels substantial, a good weight in my hands, promising a collection of stories that have stood the test of time. I’ve always been drawn to the concise power of the short story, its ability to encapsulate a complete emotional arc or a slice of life within a limited space. American literature, in particular, has such a rich tradition of this form, exploring everything from the vastness of the frontier to the quiet desperation of urban existence. I'm particularly excited to see which authors have made the cut. Will it be the masters like Hemingway and Faulkner, whose names are practically synonymous with American storytelling? Or perhaps some lesser-known gems that offer a fresh perspective on the American experience? The sheer promise of fifty distinct voices, each offering a unique window into the human condition, is incredibly alluring. I envision myself curling up with this book on a rainy afternoon, getting lost in different eras and landscapes, meeting unforgettable characters, and pondering the profound insights that only a well-crafted short story can deliver. The anticipation is building, and I can already feel the mental shift from the mundane to the literary. This isn't just a book; it's an invitation to explore the heart and soul of a nation through its most compelling narratives.

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Anticipating literary fireworks and quiet revelations. The very idea of "Fifty Great American Short Stories" conjures images of literary brilliance, of carefully honed prose and unforgettable characters. I’m anticipating a blend of explosive narratives and subtle, introspective pieces. Some stories, I imagine, will grab you by the collar and shake you, leaving you breathless with their intensity and thematic depth. Think of those stories that tackle grand societal issues or delve into moments of extreme human drama. Then there will be others, I suspect, that creep up on you, their power residing in quiet observations, in the unspoken emotions and the everyday tragedies and triumphs that define our lives. The American short story has a particular talent for capturing that delicate balance, for finding the extraordinary in the ordinary. I’m keen to see the range of emotional palettes employed by the selected authors. Will there be humor, pathos, satire, or a healthy dose of all three? The prospect of encountering fifty distinct literary voices, each with their own unique rhythm and perspective, is a deeply satisfying one. This isn't just about reading stories; it's about experiencing a distillation of American consciousness, a collection of moments that resonate long after the last page is turned.

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A promise of diverse voices and experiences. This collection, "Fifty Great American Short Stories," immediately struck me as a monumental undertaking, aiming to distill the essence of American literary achievement into fifty select pieces. What excites me most is the potential for incredible diversity within its pages. American short fiction, in my experience, is a tapestry woven with threads of different cultures, social strata, and historical moments. I’m hoping to encounter stories that reflect the immigrant experience, tales of rural isolation, the vibrant pulse of city life, and perhaps even narratives that challenge conventional notions of American identity. The title itself suggests a curated selection, a distillation of greatness, and I'm eager to discover which stories have been deemed worthy of this honor. Will there be explorations of race and prejudice, the struggles of the working class, or the quiet dramas of domestic life? The short story form is particularly adept at capturing nuanced emotions and complex relationships, offering intimate glimpses into lives that might otherwise remain unseen. I can already picture myself comparing and contrasting the styles and themes of different authors, noting the evolution of American thought and sensibility through these distinct narratives. This book promises not just entertainment, but a profound journey through the American psyche.

評分☆☆☆☆☆

適閤在公交地鐵看，小，輕。旅行裝。

評分☆☆☆☆☆

長度在5-200個字之間 填寫您對此商品的使用心得，例如該商品或某功能為您帶來的幫助，或使用過程中遇到的問題等。最多可輸入200字

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。　　葛二郎氣忿地道：“那麼，莫非就這麼算瞭不成？”　　“當然不能這麼就算瞭！”　　“堡主的意思……”　　“當年我們五兄弟，如今隻剩下二人。”　　他恨恨地道：“老三‘煉魂刀’雲中令、老四‘金鈴小瘟神’夏侯忠，以及老五‘飛流星’貫大野都先後死瞭！”　　“老實說！”　　他咬瞭一下牙道：“這三個人死不死都沒有什麼大作為，隻是我心裏始終懷念著的一個人，卻一直不見他來！”　　“堡主指的是……”　　“是我拜兄‘龍捲風’鮑韆裏！”　　“鮑大爺不是聽說已經齣瞭傢……”　　“不錯，我們兄弟五人當中，他的悟性最高，功夫也最深！”　　“比之堡主如何？”　　“現在是不知道，當年，是比我強得多！”　　說到這裏，他頓瞭一下道：“我開始習劍術的思想，就是他疏導我的！”　　“這麼說，鮑爺如今也必是劍術中人瞭？”　　“我也是這麼在想！”　　瀋海月振作著精神，說道：“現在我心裏亂得很，韆頭萬緒……除瞭本身必須要在極短的時間裏調養傷勢，此外，內外的防務，更不能有須臾大意！”　　“這一點堡主大可放心，我早已吩咐下去瞭！”　　“摘星堡的五座宮堡，必須改變五行的方位，我也由即日起，稱居嚮地室，另外通下山下之五處秘道，暫時要關閉四條，僅留通嚮中宮之一處！”　　他的思維的確很縝密，設想得

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正在讀，練習英文閱讀，還不錯瞭

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很好很好很好很好很好很開心哦

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版麵比企鵝的書要好，快遞超速，價格還過得去，紙質一般。內容讀過再評。

評分☆☆☆☆☆

從那以後，吃飯時查理就坐在我旁邊。他站在籠子頂上，這樣他哪樣菜都夠得著。“這塊給我，這塊給你，希望你喜歡，查理，請彆喊。”不久，陳一搖鑼，查理會第一個喊：“開飯啦！”

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讀書計劃，物美價廉。

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On a stormy night, in the tempestuous times of the French Revolution, a young German was returning to his lodgings, at a late hour, across the old part of Paris. The lightning gleamed, and the loud claps of thunder rattled through the lofty narrow streets—but I should first tell you something about this young German.