《契诃夫中短篇小说选》短篇小说之王契诃夫一生创作了七八百篇短篇小说，作品大多取材子底层人民的平凡生活。收入本书的14个中短篇都是契诃夫的代表作，有的反映了小人物的悲惨生活，如《苦闷》、《万卡》；有的揭示了小人物为求生计而苦苦挣扎的无奈，以及战战兢兢、卑躬屈膝的心态和面貌。如《小官吏之死》、《胖子和瘦子》、《牡蛎》；有的鞭笞了见风使舵的奴颜媚骨，如《变色龙》；有的刻画了专制制度卫道士的嘴脸，如《普里什别叶夫中士》；有的揭露了专制制度对社会的压制及其保守和虚弱，如《套中人》；有的针砭了追求虚荣、庸俗无聊、鼠目寸光的人生哲学，如《跳来跳去的女人》、《挂在脖子上的安娜》、《醋栗》；有的揭示了专制制度下阴森可怕的俄国社会现状，如《六号病房》；有的表现了对美好生活的追求和憧憬，从而唤起人们对浑浑噩噩、半死不活的生活的厌恶，如《话说爱情》、　《没出嫁的新娘》。

作者简介

安东·契诃夫(1860－1904)，19世纪末期俄罗斯批判现实主义作家、短篇小说艺术大师。1879年进入莫斯科大学医学系。1884年毕业后在兹威尼哥罗德等地行医，广泛接触平民、了解生活，这对他的文学创作产生了深远影响。他和法国的莫泊桑、美国的欧?亨利并列为三大短篇小说巨匠。代表作有短篇小说《变色龙》、《万卡》、《套中人》等。译者：青闰（1965～），河南武陟人。本名宋金柱，常用笔名听泉、宣碧。现供职于焦作大学翻译中心。擅长双语互译。迄今已在外文出版社、译林出版社、上海交通大学出版社、东华大学出版社、大连理工大学出版社、中国宇航出版社等出版双语著作多部。另在《世界文学》《译林》《当代外国文学》《英语世界》等重要报刊发表译文和论文多篇。他翻译的原则是：“以雅俗共赏为基点，注重选材的广度、深度和科学性，整体把握字词句段篇，力求做到形声色味神的完美统一。”

精彩书评

这是一个独特的巨大天才，是那些在文学史上和在社会情绪中构成时代的作家中的一个。
——高尔基

契诃夫是一个“无与伦比的艺术家”，我撇开一切虚伪的客套肯定地说，从技巧上讲，他，契诃夫，远比我更为高明！
——列夫·托尔斯泰

A Chameleon／变色龙 1
Vanka／万卡 6
Misery／苦恼 12
Fat and Thin／胖子和瘦子 21
The Trousseau／嫁妆 24
The Death of a Clerk／小职员之死 32
The Lottery Ticket／彩票 36
A Wicked Boy／小坏蛋 43
The Orator／演说家 47
Oysters／牡蛎 52
The Beggar／乞丐 58
A Joke／玩笑 66
A Malefactor／预谋犯 72
Small Fry／小人物 78
The Chorus Girl／歌女 83
The Man in a Case／套中人 91
The Darling／宝贝儿 110
Anna on the Neck／脖子上的安娜 127
The Bet／打赌 145
The Beauties／美女 155
The Lady with the Dog／带小狗的女人 167
Lights／灯火 191
A Happy Ending／美妙的结局 243
Gooseberries／醋栗 250
The Swedish Match／瑞典火柴 265
At a Summer Villa／在夏日别墅里 295
Betrothed／未婚妻 303

精彩书摘

The police superintendent Otchumyelov is walking across the market square wearing a new overcoat and carrying a parcel under his arm. A red-haired policeman strides after him with a sieve full of confiscated gooseberries in his hands. There is silence all around. Not a soul in the square...The open doors of the shops and taverns look out upon God’s world disconsolately, like hungry mouths; there is not even a beggar near them.
“So you bite, you damned brute?” Otchumyelov hears suddenly. “Lads, don’t let her go! Biting is prohibited nowadays! Hold her! Ah…ah!”
There is the sound of a dog yelping. Otchumyelov looks in the direction of the sound and sees a dog, hopping on three legs and looking about her, run out of Pitchugin’s timber-yard. A man in a starched cotton shirt, with his waistcoat unbuttoned, is chasing her. He runs after her, and throwing his body forward falls down and seizes the dog by her hind legs. Once more there is a yelping and a shout of “Don’t let go!” Sleepy countenances are protruded from the shops, and soon a crowd, which seems to have sprung out of the earth, is gathered round the timber-yard.
“It looks like a row, your honour...” says the policeman.
Otchumyelov makes a half turn to the left and strides towards the crowd. He sees the aforementioned man in the unbuttoned waistcoat standing close by the gate of the timber-yard, holding his right hand in the air and displaying a bleeding finger to the crowd. On his half-drunken face there is plainly written: “I’ll pay you out, you rogue!” and indeed the very finger has the look of a flag of victory. In this man Otchumyelov recognises Hryukin, the goldsmith. The culprit who has caused the sensation, a white borzoi puppy with a sharp muzzle and a yellow patch on her back, is sitting on the ground with her fore-paws outstretched in the middle of the crowd, trembling all over. There is an expression of misery and terror in her tearful eyes.
“What’s it all about?” Otchumyelov inquires, pushing his way through the crowd. “What are you here for? Why are you waving your finger...? Who was it shouted?”
“I was walking along here, not interfering with anyone, your honour,” Hryukin begins, coughing into his fist. “I was talking about firewood to Mitry Mitritch, when this low brute for no rhyme or reason bit my finger...You must excuse me, I am a working man...Mine is fine work. I must have damages, for I shan’t be able to use this finger for a week, may be...It’s not even the law, your honour, that one should put up with it from a beast...If everyone is going to be bitten, life won’t be worth living...”
“H’m. Very good,” says Otchumyelov sternly, coughing and raising his eyebrows. “Very good. Whose dog is it? I won’t let this pass! I’ll teach them to let their dogs run all over the place! It’s time these gentry were looked after, if they won’t obey the regulations! When he’s fined, the blackguard, I’ll teach him what it means to keep dogs and such stray cattle! I’ll give him a lesson! ...Yeldyrin,” cries the superintendent, addressing the policeman, “find out whose dog this is and draw up a report! And the dog must be strangled. Without delay! It’s sure to be mad... Whose dog is it, I ask?”
“I fancy it’s General Zhigalov’s,” says someone in the crowd.
“General Zhigalov’s, h’m...Help me off with my coat, Yeldyrin...it’s frightfully hot! It must be a sign of rain...There’s one thing I can’t make out, how it came to bite you?” Otchumyelov turns to Hryukin. “Surely it couldn’t reach your finger. It’s a little dog, and you are a great hulking fellow! You must have scratched your finger with a nail, and then the idea struck you to get damages for it. We all know...your sort! I know you devils!”
“He put a cigarette in her face, your honour, for a joke, and she had the sense to snap at him... He is a nonsensical fellow, your honour!”
“That’s a lie, Squinteye! You didn’t see, so why tell lies about it? His honour is a wise gentleman, and will see who is telling lies and who is telling the truth, as in God’s sight...And if I am lying let the court decide. It’s written in the law...We are all equal nowadays. My own brother is in the gendarmes...let me tell you...”
“Don’t argue!”
……
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