世界著名悬疑小说

中国现代文学

1、鲁迅《呐喊》、《彷徨》

2、沈从文《边城》

3、巴金《家》、《寒夜》

4、茅盾《子夜》、《林家铺子》

5、郭沫若《女神》、《屈原》

6、曹禺《雷雨》、《日出》、《原野》、《北京人》

7、郁达夫《沉沦》、《春风沉醉的晚上》

8、老舍《骆驼祥子》、《四世同堂》、《正红旗下》

9、张爱玲《倾城之恋》、《金锁记》

10、冯至《十四行集》

11、钱钟书《围城》

12、丁玲《莎菲女士的日记》

13、赵树理《小二黑结婚》

中国当代文学

1、余华在细雨中呼喊、《活着》

2、王小波《黄金时代》、《红拂夜奔》

3、张承志《黑骏马》、《北方的河》

4、莫言《红高粱》

5、路遥《人生》

6、王安忆《小城之恋》、《荒山之恋》、《长恨歌》

7、陈忠实《白鹿原》

8、阿来《尘埃落定》

9、史铁生《我的遥远的清平湾》

10、张炜《古船》、《九月寓言》

11、刘震云《一地鸡毛》

12、高行健《灵山》

13、林白《一个人的战争》

外国文学

1、索福克勒斯俄狄浦斯王

2、莎士比亚《哈姆雷特》、《李尔王》、《奥瑟罗》、《麦克白》

3、笛福《鲁滨逊漂流记》

4、狄更斯《远大前程》

5、歌德《浮士德》

6、雨果《巴黎圣母院》、《九三年》

7、福楼拜《包法利夫人》

8、陀斯妥耶夫斯基《罪与罚》

9、哈代《德伯家的苔丝》

10、托尔斯泰《复活》

11、雷马克《西线无战事》

12、海明威《老人与海》、《太阳照常升起》

13、马尔克斯《百年孤独》

14、杜拉斯《情人》

15、卡夫卡《变形记》、《城堡》

16、奥维尔《1984》、《动物农庄》

17、罗曼·罗兰约翰-克利斯朵夫

18、帕斯捷尔纳克《日瓦戈医生》

19、米兰·昆德拉《生命中不能承受之轻》、《生活在别处》

人鬼情未了

太完美了，我都看了好几遍，拥有一刻，也不枉此生！

《莫格街谋杀案》作者：爱伦 坡开侦探小说之先河：而在文学史上，他也被认为是19世纪美国最伟大的作家之一；他又被称为侦探小说鼻祖、科幻小说先驱、恐怖小说大师、唯美主义者……爱伦·坡（1809～1849）美国小说家。与安布鲁斯·布尔斯、H.P洛夫克拉夫特并称为美国三大恐怖小说家

《中国橘子之谜》《希腊棺材之谜》疯狂下午茶《X的悲剧》《Y的悲剧》《Z的悲剧》作者：埃勒里 奎因 埃勒里·奎因（Ellery Queen）是曼弗雷德·B·李 和弗雷德里克·丹奈 这对表兄弟合用的笔名，他们堪称侦探推理小说史上承前启后的经典作家。 创作期间的作品大部分以埃勒里·奎因的笔名发表。埃勒里·奎因也是其小说中的主人公，其角色本身就是一位侦探小说作家兼超级侦探。年轻英俊的侦探埃勒里·奎因和他的父亲——纽约警察局的警官理查德·奎因是其大多数作品中的主要角色。《福尔摩斯探案集》作者：亚瑟·柯南道尔《福》一书收录有四部长篇及56个短篇，（个人认为《四签名》《血字的研究》五个桔核《斑点带子案》《跳舞的小人》等比较好看）《雪地上的女尸》《东方快车谋杀案》作者： 阿加莎·克里斯 英国著名女侦探小说家、剧作家君子协定作者:劳伦斯布洛克

美国推理小说作家,十九岁时公开发表处女作你不可错过,之后近50年时间里笔耕不断,迄今已有30余部小说问世,是个高产作家.

白修道院谋杀案《三口棺材》作者：约翰.狄克森.卡尔[美]

美国籍推理小说家，除了「约翰·狄克森·卡尔」之外，也曾使用过「卡特·狄克森」、「卡尔·狄克森」以及「罗杰·费尔拜恩」等多个笔名发表作品。卡尔是公认的古典推理黄金时期伟大作家之一，写作上注重谜团的设计，并辅以复杂而紧凑的情节。他大部分的小说及短篇故事中都有一个古怪的侦探，负责解开种种不可思议同时又带有超自然神秘味道的犯罪，这样的风格主要是受到法国作家勒胡以及英国文学巨擘 G. K. 却斯特顿的布朗神父系列所影响。

笔下主要有两位名侦探，菲尔博士与亨利·梅瑞威尔爵士.被称为“密室之王”

日本也有许多推理小说作家，如 江户川乱步D坡杀人案、《心理测试》、人间椅子、《黄金假面人》、侍人幻戏、《透明怪人》、月亮手套等.笔下的侦探明智小五郎成为日本妇孺皆知的英雄。松本清张：代表作有《点与线》、《隔墙有眼》、《零的焦点》、《日本的黑雾》、女人的代

价、恶棍、《砂器》、谋杀情人的画家。不追求离奇惊险，而以推理剖析犯罪动

机，揭示社会黑幕，有一定社会意义。由于其作品的独特风格，1963年被推选为日本推理

小说理事长，并誉为“推理小说的清张时代”。高木彬光：检查官雾岛三郎、《零的蜜月》、白昼的死亡、《诱拐》、告密

者、成吉思汗之谜、《都市之狼》、《鬼面谋杀案》等

可以看看《穆斯林的葬礼》，中国的，不过很好~

名称 作者

1.乌托邦 莫 尔

2.威尼斯商人 莎士比亚

3.简·爱 夏绿蒂·勃朗特

4.唐璜 拜 伦

5.呼啸山庄 艾米莉·勃朗特

6.鲁宾逊飘流记 笛 福

7.名利场 萨克雷

8.傲慢与偏见 简·奥斯丁

9.双城记 查尔斯·狄更斯

10.恋爱中的女人 D·H·劳伦斯

11.新工具 培 根

12.政府论 洛 克

13.尤里西斯 詹姆斯·乔伊斯

14.赫克尔贝里·芬历险记 马克·吐温

15.老人与海 海明威

16.飘 玛格丽特·米切尔

17.嘉莉妹妹 德莱塞

18.小妇人 路易莎·梅·奥尔科特

19.悲惨世界 雨果

20.约翰·克里斯朵夫 罗曼·罗兰

21.幻灭 巴尔扎克

22.欧叶妮·格朗台 巴尔扎克

23.贝姨 巴尔扎克

24.邦斯舅舅 巴尔扎克

25.格兰特船长的儿女 儒勒·凡尔纳

26.漂亮朋友 莫泊桑

27.娜娜 左 拉

28.包法利夫人 福楼拜

29.基督山伯爵 大仲马

30.茶花女 小仲马

31.巴黎圣母院 雨 果

32.红与黑 司汤达

33.拿破仑法典 拿破仑

34.人是机器 拉美特里

35.社会契约论 卢 梭

36.浮士德 歌 德

37.少年维特的烦恼 歌 德

38.希腊神话故事 施瓦布

39.战争论 克劳塞维茨

40.忏悔录 奥古斯丁

41.父与子 屠格涅夫

42.罪与罚 陀思妥耶夫斯基

43.安娜·卡列宁娜 列夫·托尔斯泰

44.复活 列夫·托尔斯泰

45.上尉的女儿 普希金

46.死魂灵 果戈理

47.童年 高尔基

48.我的大学 高尔基

49.钢铁是怎样炼成的 尼·奥斯特洛夫斯基

50.白痴 陀思妥耶夫斯基

51.伊索寓言 伊索·拉封丹

52.理想国 柏拉图

53.政治学 亚里士多德

54.安徒生童话 安徒生

55.牛虻 伏尼契

56.堂·吉诃德 塞万提斯

57.汉穆拉比法典 汉穆拉比

58.论神 斯宾诺莎

59.癞皮鹦鹉 利萨尔迪

60.太阳城 康帕内拉

61.性爱与文明 弗洛伊德

62.苔丝 哈代

63.拉摩的侄儿 狄德罗

64.理智与情感 奥斯汀

65.权力意志 尼采

66.苦闷的象征 厨川白村

67.梦的解析 弗各伊德

68.资本论 马克思

69.先知 纪伯伦

70.俄罗斯的童话 高尔基

71.桃色的云 爱罗先轲

72.水晶瓶塞 莫里斯·勒布朗

73.乡村医生 巴尔扎克

74.高龙巴 梅里美

75.黄室奇案 嘉斯东·勒鲁

76.克菜采奏鸣曲 列·托尔斯泰

77.阴谋与爱情 席勒

78.快乐王子 王尔德

79.变形记 卡夫卡

80.羊脂球 莫泊桑

81.魔沼 乔治·桑

82.死魂灵 果戈里

83.希腊棺材之谜 奎恩

84.母亲 高尔基

85.被背叛的遗嘱 米兰·昆德拉

86.毁灭 法捷耶夫

87.绞刑架下的报告 伏契克

88.贵族之家 屠格涅夫

89.冷血医生 玛丽·希金斯·克拉克

90.十日谈 薄伽丘

91.女富翁的遗产 高木彬光

92.绿野仙踪 莱曼·弗兰·鲍姆

93.法国中尉的女人 约翰·福尔斯

94.汤姆·索亚历险记 马克·吐温

95.马可·波罗游记 马可·波罗

96.卡门 梅里美

97.美丽与悲哀 川端康成

98.野性的呼唤 杰克·伦敦

99.吉卜赛姑娘 塞万提斯

100.浅滩迷船 里縸

世界著名的短篇小说 :

雨果： 克洛德.格

欧文： 鬼新郎

左拉： 陪衬人

都德： 三部大弥撒

哈代： 富于想象的妇人

海涅： 帕格尼尼

普希金： 黑桃皇后

莫泊桑： 蛮子大妈

梅里美： 伊尔的美神

狄更斯： 穷人的专利

果戈理： 旧式的地主

司各特： 流浪汉威利的故事

契科夫： 宝贝儿

高尔基： 切尔卡希

巴尔扎克： 不为人知的杰作

马克.吐温 田纳西的新闻界

杰克.伦敦 变节者

屠格涅夫： 总管

欧. 亨利 爱的牺牲

我个人喜欢本格的，所以社会的少点。

先来目前比较火的，应该是属于社会派

东野圭吾：白夜行，嫌疑人X的献身，这两本算是东野圭吾的最高峰。

宫部美雪：所罗门的伪证，火车，前一本是最新作品，后一本是她的书里头我最喜欢的。

接下来是本格的了

绫辻行人：馆系列，目前有9部，推荐钟表馆，奇面馆，黑暗馆。

岛田庄司：作品很多，质量参差不齐，推荐占星术杀人魔法，斜屋犯罪，异邦骑士，螺丝人

二阶堂黎人：算是新本格派的异类，推荐恐怖人狼城，这是最长的本格推理，共四本，经过前三本铺垫之后，第四本解谜非常过瘾

再来第二黄金时期三巨头吧

阿加莎克里斯蒂：推理小说女王，推荐无人生还，罗杰疑案，牙医谋杀案，地狱之旅，东方快车谋杀案，尼罗河上的惨案等

约翰狄克森卡尔：密室之王，推荐三口棺材，犹大之窗，新门新娘，至死不渝等

艾勒里奎因：美国推理小说的代名词，首创挑战读者模式，推荐国名系列（罗马帽子之谜，荷兰鞋之谜，埃及棺材之谜等），悲剧系列（X的悲剧，Y的悲剧等）

最后推荐几个国内的

雷米：个人认为国内最成熟的推理小说家，推荐心理罪系列，殉罪者

周浩晖：大名鼎鼎的中国的东野圭吾，推荐死亡通知单，邪恶催眠师

宁航一：擅长中篇，推荐作品十四分之一

《红楼梦》世界著名

《梁祝》不知道算不算

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 gradually 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 during 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 introduced 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 dully 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 dull 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 duplication. 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.

日虚月玄――作者：凤清流

我第一次以最快的时间看完的,好看的.

在浩瀚的宇宙中，人类这种智慧生命的存在到底是普遍还是偶然？

智慧的人类在物质世界中是独特的，除了地球以外难以找到类似的生命存在——迄今为止。然而，物质的世界又处处表现出一种标准化的趋向——一种混沌中的未知有序。这些让人感到困惑。若从一个角度说，支撑人类存在下去的，是人类已经存在、智慧已经被创造，没有任何疑问……对自身和物质世界的探索，贯穿了人类历史的始末，在探索的过程中，文明得以涌现。

莫泊桑《羊脂球》、《项链》 契可夫 《变色龙》、苦恼、《万卡》、第六病室、《套中人》欧.亨利《麦琪的礼物》、《警察与赞美诗》

还有雨果： 克洛德.格

欧文： 鬼新郎

左拉： 陪衬人

都德： 三部大弥撒

哈代： 富于想象的妇人

海涅： 帕格尼尼

普希金： 黑桃皇后

莫泊桑： 蛮子大妈

梅里美： 伊尔的美神

狄更斯： 穷人的专利

果戈理： 旧式的地主

司各特： 流浪汉威利的故事

契科夫： 宝贝儿

高尔基： 切尔卡希

巴尔扎克： 不为人知的杰作

马克.吐温 田纳西的新闻界

杰克.伦敦 变节者

屠格涅夫： 总管

欧. 亨利 爱的牺牲

逃婚记，呼啸山庄，《蝴蝶梦》，《飘》，《简爱》这几本应该符合要求

俄罗斯：《复活》、《安娜·卡列尼娜》

法国:《茶花女》、《包法利夫人》、《萨朗波》、《你好，忧愁》、《巴黎圣母院》

德国：《少年维特之烦恼》

英国：《简爱》、呼啸山庄

美国：《飘》、

日本：《源氏物语》

Sentiment

Saint

↗.笩琂【怣络】Wu

emperor

┈→Mr.┏Mihawk℡亲筚ヽ√【Rules

the

world

.Kan

dynasty】

《简爱》

《曼斯菲尔德庄园》

《乱世佳人》也叫《飘》

《长腿爸爸》日本改为卡通《长腿叔叔》

《小妇人》

世界著名爱情小说：

法国：拉法耶特夫人《克莱芙王妃》；小仲马《茶花女》

哥伦比亚：加西亚·马尔克斯 《霍乱时期的爱情》

英国：格雷厄姆·格林《恋情的终结》；约瑟芬· 哈特《情劫》

美国：玛格丽特·米切尔《飘》

简.爱

不知道你想知道文学家什么，以下是一些文学家的名字：

◎古希腊 古罗马

荷马 Homer 伊索 Aesop

埃斯库罗斯 Aeschylus

索福克勒斯 Sophocles

欧里庇得斯 Euripides

贺拉斯 Horatius

维吉尔 Vergilius

奥维德 Ovid

◎英国

乔叟 Chaucer

托马斯·莫尔 Thomas More

约翰·班扬 John Bunyan

莎士比亚 Shakesprare

马洛 Marlowe

笛福 Denner Defoe

斯威夫特 Swift

斯宾塞 Spencer

华兹华斯 Wordsworth

威廉·布莱克 William Blake

莱辛 Lessing

拜伦 Byron

雪莱 Shelley

济慈 John Keats

简·奥斯丁 Jane Austin

狄更斯 Charles Dickens

萨克雷 Thackray

勃朗特三姐妹 Bronte

哈代 Thomas Hardy

王尔德 Oscar Wilde

肖伯纳George Bernand Shaw

艾略特 Eliot

詹姆斯·乔伊斯 James Joyce

赫胥黎 Huxley

柯南道尔 Conan Dyle

阿加莎·克里斯蒂 Agatha Christie

贝克特 Beckett

伍尔芙 Woolf

◎法国

拉伯雷 Rabelais

卢梭 Rousseau

蒙田 Montaigne

高乃依 Corneille

拉辛 Racine

狄德罗 Diderot

伏尔泰 Voltaire

孟德斯鸠 Montesquieu

莫里哀 Mauriat

司汤达 Stonder

巴尔扎克 Balzac

雨果 Victor Hugo

福楼拜 Flanbert

左拉 Zola

大仲马小仲马父子 Dumas

莫泊桑 Manpassant

梅里美 Merimee

加缪 Camus

萨特 Satre

普鲁斯特 Proust

罗曼罗兰 Roman Roland

◎德国

歌德 Goethe

席勒 Schiller

格林兄弟 Green Brothers

海涅 Heine

◎俄国

普希金 Pushkin

果戈里 Gogol

托尔斯泰 Tolstoy

克雷洛夫 Kryilov

屠格涅夫 Turgernev

契诃夫 Cheknov

车尔尼雪夫斯基 Chernyshevsky

托斯陀耶夫斯基 Dostoevsky

赫尔岑 Herzen

帕斯捷尔纳克 Pasternak

高尔基 Maksim Gorgy

奥斯特洛夫斯基 Osterlovsky

◎美国

爱默生 Amerson

梭罗 Thoureau

惠特曼 Whitman

霍桑 Hawthone

斯托夫人 Stowe

杰克·伦敦 Jack London

马克·吐温 Mark Twain

弗罗斯特 Frost

海明威 Hamingway

菲茨杰拉德 Fitzgerald

德莱塞 Dreiser

约瑟夫·海勒 Joseph Hailer

欧·亨利 O Henry

奥尔珂德 Alcott

玛格丽特·米切尔 Margrret Millchill

◎其他国家

马克·波罗 Marco Polo （意大利）

但丁 Dante

薄伽丘 Boccaccio

塞万提斯 Cervantes （西班牙）

安徒生 Adersen (丹麦）

卡夫卡 Kafka (奥地利）

茨威格 Zweig

易卜生 Ibsen (挪威）

黑塞 Hesse （瑞士）

纪伯伦 Gibrn (黎巴嫩)

马尔克斯 Morques (哥伦比亚)

聂鲁达 Neruda (智利)

泰戈尔 Tagore (印度)

夏目漱石 （日本）川端康成