中学必读契科夫经典短篇英文小说《The bet》赏析

《契科夫短篇小说》思维导图+知识点汇总+习题演练一、作者介绍：安东·巴甫洛维奇·契诃夫(1860—1904)，俄国小说家、戏剧家、批判现实主义作家，是19世纪末期俄国最后一位批判现实主义艺术大师。

其剧作对20世纪戏剧的发展产生了很大影响。

他坚持批判现实主义传统，注重描写俄国人民的日常生活，塑造具有典型性格的小人物，借此忠实反映出当时俄国社会的现况。

他的作品的三大特征是对丑恶现象的嘲笑与对贫苦人民的深切的同情，并且其作品无情地揭露了沙皇统治下的不合理的社会制度和社会的丑恶现象。

他的作品以语言精练、准确见长，他善于透过生活的表层进行探索，将人物隐蔽的动机揭露得淋漓尽致。

契诃夫采取简洁的写作技巧以避免炫耀文学手段，被认为是19世纪末俄国现实主义文学的杰出代表。

他和法国的莫泊桑、美国的欧·亨利并称为世界三大短篇小说巨匠。

二、内容介绍《契诃夫短篇小说选》收入的20篇小说都是契诃夫小说的代表作。

所选的作品来自契诃夫创作的前后两个时期。

在早期作品中，除了中国读者比较熟悉的，具有一定现实批判色彩的《变色龙》外，还有一些轻松诙谐的纯幽默小说。

在后期作品中，以《套中人》最为著名。

这篇小说表现了沉闷压抑的时代氛围，讽刺了俄国社会普遍的僵化、禁锢的精神状态。

契诃夫的小说描绘了19世纪俄国社会的众生相，其中有小人物的心酸无奈，有贵族官吏的贪婪虚伪，有下层官吏的奴颜婢膝、见风使舵，还有知识分子的彷徨与摇摆。

这些小说没有情节上的大起大落，没有激烈的矛盾冲突，作者只是撷取一些生活化的场景，捕捉一些平凡人物的日常琐事，不动声色地写出来，通过人物的自我表演，表达对人性和生活本质的洞察，寓意深刻，留给人思考的余地。

中、短篇小说是契诃夫创作的主要成就，而他的小说创作主要涉及以下四种题材：1.小市民生活题材。

代表作品主要有《醋栗》《约内奇》《挂在脖子上的安娜》和《带阁楼的房子》等。

2.下层平民生活题材。

主要代表作品有《苦恼》《哀伤》和《万卡》等。

The bet课文主旨
主题是《打赌》(The Bet, Пари)，俄国作家契诃夫的短篇小说作品。

契诃夫
一个黑沉沉的秋夜。

老银行家在他的书房里踱来踱去，回想起十五年前也是在秋天他举行过的一次晚会。

在这次晚会上，来了许多有识之士，谈了不少有趣的话题。

他们顺便谈起了死刑。

客人们中间有不少学者和新闻记者，大多数人对死刑持否定态度。

他们认为这种刑罚已经过时，不适用于信奉基督教的国家，而且不合乎道德。

照这些人的看法，死刑应当一律改为无期徒刑。

《装在套子里的人》赏析及翻译第一篇：《装在套子里的人》赏析及翻译【赏析】《装在套子里的人》写于1898年，是契诃夫优秀的代表作之一。

这部作品在契诃夫的短篇小说中算是比较长的，但也不过一万字多一点。

其故事也不复杂。

主人公是一位在中学里教希腊语的中年教师，名叫别里科夫。

现实生活让他总是感到心神不安，让他害怕，为了同世人隔绝，不致受到外界的影响，他总想给自己包上一层外壳，给自己制造一个所谓安全的套子：哪怕在艳陽天出门他也总是穿着套鞋，带着雨伞，他的雨伞、怀表、削铅笔的小折刀等等一切能包裹起来的东西都总是装在套子里，就连他的脸也好像装在套子里，因为他总是把脸藏在竖一起的衣领里面，戴着黑眼镜，耳朵里塞上棉花，坐出租马车的时候也要车夫马上把车篷支起来。

这仅仅是他抵挡恐惧的外在表现。

另一方面，一切被禁止的东西都让他感到心里踏实、清楚明了，而对一切没有被zheng府明令禁止的事物他都觉得可疑、害怕。

他的一句时时挂在嘴边的口头禅是：“千万别闹出什么乱子来。

”在这部篇幅不算长的小说里这句话竟然以不同的方式出现了九次之多，简直就像咒语一样压得人喘不过气来。

特别让人无法容忍的是，他总是像一个幽灵一样不请自到地造访每个教师的住所，一句话不说地坐上一两个钟头，然后又像幽灵一样地消失了。

他的恐惧像毒瘤一样一点一点地蔓延，传染给他周围的每一个人。

他在学校里待了15年，整个学校乃至全城被他这样的情绪控制了15年，竟然在这样漫长的时间里没有一个人想要反抗，想要对他说一个不字。

同学们可以想像一下，那是怎样的15年啊!全城的人什么都怕：不敢大声说话，不敢寄信、交朋友、读书，不敢周济穷人、教人识字，不敢吃荤、打牌，不敢搞任何娱乐活动，人们都像他一样蜷缩在自己的套子里苟且偷生。

而最可怕的是，渐渐地，这一切都成为了习惯，成为了再自然不过的事情。

在小说的结尾部分我们可以明显地体会到这一点。

别里科夫死了，死得非常具有戏剧性*：学校里新来了一位史地教师，从乌克兰来的，与他一起来的还有他的姐姐华连卡，他们的到来如同一块石子一样把死水一潭的沉闷生活搅起了涟漪。

the lottery概括
《The Lottery》是一部由Shirley Jackson于1948年创作的短篇小说，通过一个平静而偏远的村庄每年一次的“彩票”抽查仪式，揭示了人类在盲目传统和集体决定面前的无知和残暴。

在故事中，每年六月27日，全村居民都会聚集在一起进行彩票抽取仪式，每个家庭的头抽一张票，之后家庭中的其他成员再抽票，最终被抽到特殊标记票的人将会遭到整个社区的石头攻击直至死亡。

这个看似和平的仪式实际上隐藏着残酷的真相，这种叙事手法挑战了权威并批判了社会习俗。

故事提醒人们，残酷和恶意并不一定总是来自于明确的敌意或甚至是犯罪行为，它们可以隐藏在看似正常的习俗和传统中。

因此，《The Lottery》成为了一部透过借喻的手法探讨人性、传统和盲目顺从的短篇小说。

the bet中律师的心情变化
契诃夫的《the bet》讲述的是一位银行家与律师之间一场关于自由与金钱的打赌。

从一场对于死刑和无期徒刑哪个刑罚更痛苦展开的辩论展开故事，二百万美金与十五年的美好光阴作为赌注，一场关于自由与金钱的斗争开始了。

律师在这十五年监禁岁月里，其自身的精神世界发生了巨大的转变，读万卷书，小说里也对这期间律师所读的书进行了具体说明，第一年伴随的是钢琴声和内容轻松的读物，表明他在这年精神世界比较轻松，并未感觉到孤单寂寞；以后的五年，他不再读很多书，开始每天“只顾吃饭、喝酒，有时忘我的写东西，在清晨将其撕碎号陶大哭”，表明律师在这期间精神世界逐渐崩溃，世界观开始模糊，对人生的方向感到迷茫，逐渐感受到了难忍的孤独滋味，在仿徨无助、不知所措之时只能通过酒精、哭泣来麻痹自己，妄图逃避现实；在第六年开始，律师开始研究“历史、哲学和语言”，并小有成就。

十年之后，“律师开始不加选择地阅读书籍”，这一阶段他已经逐步适应孤独的感觉，开始在有限的时间里努力充实精神世界，在书海中寻找生命的真正意义，重新思考金钱对于人类来说有何意义，认识到了只有自由才是人类真正向往的，其他一切都是身外之物。

就像匈牙利诗人裴多菲曾经说过的那样：“生命诚可贵，爱情价更高，若为自由故，二者皆可抛。

”失去自由对每一个人来说都是一件可怕的事请，但是重要的是我们如何面对失去自由的孤单与无助。

契科夫the lottery ticket读后感
The Lottery Ticket《彩票》是契诃夫的一篇风格独特，艺术精湛
的抒情心理小说。

小说以大量独白式的描写表现了中彩的希望让一对夫妻由相爱到互相猜忌憎恨，最后情感产生裂痕的过程。

传神而充满深刻洞察力的描写，揭示出时代的本质和人性的弱点，启发读者思考私欲与获取幸福生活的必然联系，小说结构紧凑，情节跌宕起伏，极富艺术感染力。

看完那篇《The Lottery》之后，心里嗟吁不已。

那个小镇有个上百年来一直沿袭着的传统，每年六月里的一天，总会把小镇上的人们聚集在一起，摸彩。

随着故事散漫地进展，我也散漫地读着。

天气如何地好，女孩子们如何地聚在一起聊些无聊的话，男孩子们如何地搞闹追逐着玩石块。

大人们如何有一句没一句地拉家常，等着摸彩。

镇长如何地捧了大盒子过来，如何准备工作都做好了。

然后怎样一个人一个人地被叫上去摸彩。

故事就这么有一搭没一搭地进展着。

等所有人都摸了彩以后，镇长才让大家一起打开摸到的纸片。

我呢，仍是不在意地读着。

直
到读到结尾，抽到彩的那人原来是要被全村人用石头打死。

于是从刚刚散漫的故事进展中我忽地一惊，吓了一跳。

心里嗟吁不已。

The Bet (by Anton‎Chekh‎o v)About‎the autho‎rAnton‎Pavlo‎v ich Chekh‎o v (Date of Birth‎29 Janua‎r y 1860, Tagan‎r og, Russi‎a Date of Death‎15 July 1904, Baden‎w eile‎r, Germa‎n y) was a Russi‎a n short‎-story‎write‎r, playw‎r ight‎and physi‎c ian, consi‎d ered‎to be one of the great‎e st short‎-story‎write‎r s in the histo‎r y of world‎liter‎a ture‎.His caree‎r as a drama‎t ist produ‎c ed four class‎i cs and his best short‎stori‎e s are held in high estee‎m by write‎r s and criti‎c s.Plot summa‎r yThe story‎begin‎s with a heate‎d argum‎e nt at a party‎over which‎is more moral‎,capit‎a l punis‎h ment‎or life impri‎s onme‎n t. The host of the party‎, a twent‎y-five year old lawye‎r at the party‎respo‎n ds, sayin‎g, he would‎choos‎e the life sente‎n ce to be more moral‎becau‎s e any life is bette‎r than no life at all.This respo‎n se cause‎s the banke‎r to bet the lawye‎r two milli‎o n dolla‎r s in five years‎s olit‎a ry confi‎n emen‎t. The lawye‎r accep‎t s the wager‎,but pushe‎s it to fifte‎e n years‎in hopes‎of makin‎g a point‎. While‎the banke‎r remai‎n ed conce‎r ned prima‎r ily about‎the money‎,the lawye‎r stays‎in confi‎n emen‎t for almos‎t fifte‎e n years‎when, with only five minut‎e s remai‎n ing, he renou‎n ces his quest‎for the two milli‎o n dolla‎r s. In his fifte‎e n years‎of solit‎u de, the lawye‎r has come to the reali‎z atio‎n that money‎is of no signi‎f ican‎c e in compa‎r ison‎with true meani‎n g of life.Chara‎cter analy‎s isThe lawye‎rThe lawye‎r who was shut away for fifte‎e n years‎won the bet in the moral‎sense‎. He began‎to read in earne‎s t thoug‎h it was diffi‎c ult at first‎to endur‎e the solit‎a ry confi‎n emen‎t. His readi‎n g opene‎d his mind and gave him wisdo‎m. He was able to appre‎c iate‎much of the world‎witho‎u t actua‎l ly exper‎i enci‎n g it. As his wisdo‎m incre‎a sed he began‎to see the weakn‎e sses‎of manki‎n d as a whole‎and he came to despi‎s e those‎weakn‎e sses‎. Becau‎s e of that wisdo‎m he purpo‎s ely lost the bet by leavi‎n g five hours‎befor‎e the end of the agree‎d upon time, thus renou‎n cing‎the money‎he was suppo‎s ed to win.The banke‎rThe banke‎r enjoy‎s his wealt‎h deepl‎y and his obses‎s ion for money‎prove‎s to be the cause‎of his failu‎r e as he slowl‎y loses‎every‎t hing‎he has .The banke‎r won only in the sense‎that he did not lose money‎, but he lost so much more of himse‎l f. He nearl‎y kille‎d the lawye‎r in his desir‎e to avoid‎losin‎g his money‎. After‎the lawye‎r escap‎e d, the banke‎r did not even have the moral‎natur‎e to let other‎s know why the lawye‎r escap‎e d. He took the lette‎r the lawye‎r wrote‎expla‎i ning‎why he did what he did and locke‎d it away befor‎e anyon‎e could‎see it.Theme‎s●The life of a human‎is far more valua‎b le than money‎.●World‎ly, mater‎i al goods‎may blind‎peopl‎e to what is truly‎impor‎t ant in life.By givin‎g up world‎l y thing‎s one can recei‎v e true knowl‎e dge. 安东·巴甫洛维奇‎·契诃夫编辑契诃夫即安‎东·巴甫洛维奇‎·契诃夫，更多含义，请参阅契诃夫（多义词）。

BENEATH AN UMBRELLABy Nathaniel Hawthorne Pleasant is a rainy winter's day,within doors!The best study for such a da y,or the best amusement,-call it which you will,-is a book of travels,describi ng scenes the most unlike that sombre one,which is mistily presented throu gh the windows.I have experienced,that fancy is then most successful in im parting distinct shapes and vivid colors to the objects which the author has s pread upon his page,and that his words become magic spells to summon up a thousand varied pictures.Strange landscapes glimmer through the familiar walls of the room,and outlandish figures thrust themselves almost within the sacred precincts of the hearth.Small as my chamber is,it has space enough to contain the ocean-like circumference of an Arabian desert,its parched sa nds tracked by the long line of a caravan,with the camels patiently journeyi ng through the heavy sunshine.Though my ceiling be not lofty,yet I can pil e up the mountains of Central Asia beneath it,till their summits shine far ab ove the clouds of the middle atmosphere.And,with my humble means,a w ealth that is not taxable,I can transport hither the magnificent merchandise of an Oriental bazaar,and call a crowd of purchasers from distant countries, to pay a fair profit for the precious articles which are displayed on all sides. True it is,however,that amid the bustle of traffic,or whatever else may see m to be going on around me,the rain-drops will occasionally be heard to pa tter against my window-panes,which look forth upon one of the quietest str eets in a New England town.After a time,too,the visions vanish,and will n ot appear again at my bidding.Then,it being nightfall,a gloomy sense of un reality depresses my spirits,and impels me to venture out,before the clock shall strike bedtime,to satisfy myself that the world is not entirely made up of such shadowy materials,as have busied me throughout the day.A dreame r may dwell so long among fantasies,that the things without him will seem as unreal as those within.When eve has fairly set in,therefore,I sally forth,tightly buttoning my sha ggy overcoat,and hoisting my umbrella,the silken dome of which immediatel y resounds with the heavy drumming of the invisible rain-drops.Pausing on t he lowest doorstep,I contrast the warmth and cheerfulness of my deserted fi reside with the drear obscurity and chill discomfort into which I am about to plunge.Now come fearful auguries,innumerable as the drops of rain.Did n ot my manhood cry shame upon me,I should turn back within doors,resum e my elbow-chair,my slippers,and my book,pass such an evening of sluggis h enjoyment as the day has been,and go to bed inglorious.The same shiver ing reluctance,no doubt,has quelled,for a moment,the adventurous spirit o f many a traveller,when his feet,which were destined to measure the earth around,were leaving their last tracks in the home-paths.In my own case,poor human nature may be allowed a few misgivings.I l ook upward,and discern no sky,not even an unfathomable void,but only a black,impenetrable nothingness,as though heaven and all its lights were blot ted from the system of the universe.It is as if nature were dead,and the w orld had put on black,and the clouds were weeping for her.With their tears upon my cheek,I turn my eyes earthward,but find little consolation here b elow.A lamp is burning dimly at the distant corner,and throws just enough of light along the street,to show,and exaggerate by so faintly showing,the perils and difficulties which beset my path.Yonder dingily white remnant of a huge snow-bank,-which will yet cumber the sidewalk till the latter days of March,-over or through that wintry waste I must stride onward.Beyond,lies a certain Slough of Despond,a concoction of mud and liquid filth,ankle-deep, leg-deep,neck-deep,-in a word,of unknown bottom,on which the lamplight does not even glimmer,but which I have occasionally watched,in the gradu al growth of its horrors,from morn till nightfall.Should I flounder into its de pths,farewell to upper earth!And hark!how roughly resounds the roaring of a stream,the turbulent career of which is partially reddened by the gleamof the lamp,but elsewhere brawls noisily through the densest gloom.O,sho uld I be swept away in fording that impetuous and unclean torrent,the coro ner will have a job with an unfortunate gentleman,who would fain end his t roubles anywhere but in a mud-puddle!Pshaw!I will linger not another instant at arm's length from these dim ter rors,which grow more obscurely formidable,the longer I delay to grapple wit h them.Now for the onset!And to!with little damage,save a dash of rain in the face and breast,a splash of mud high up the pantaloons,and the left boot full of ice-cold water,behold me at the corner of the street.The lamp throws down a circle of red light around me;and twinkling onward from co rner to corner,I discern other beacons marshalling my way to a brighter sce ne.But this is alone some and dreary spot.The tall edifices bid gloomy defi ance to the storm,with their blinds all closed,even as a man winks when h e faces a spattering gust.How loudly tinkles the collected rain down the tin spouts!The puffs of wind are boisterous,and seem to assail me from variou s quarters at once.I have often observed that this corner is a haunt and loit ering-place for those winds which have no work to do upon the deep,dashi ng ships against our iron-bound shores;nor in the forest,tearing up the sylv an giants with half a rood of soil at their vast roots.Here they amuse thems elves with lesser freaks of mischief.See,at this moment,how they assail yon der poor woman,who is passing just within the verge of the lamplight!One blast struggles for her umbrella,and turns it wrong side outward;another w hisks the cape of her cloak across her eyes;while a third takes most unwarr antable liberties with the lower part of her attire.Happily,the good dame is no gossamer,but a figure of rotundity and fleshly substance;else would the se aerial tormentors whirl her aloft,like a witch upon a broomstick,and set her down,doubtless,in the filthiest kennel hereabout.From hence I tread upon firm pavements into the centre of the town.Her e there is almost as brilliant an illumination as when some great victory has been won,either on the battle-field or at the polls.Two rows of shops,withwindows down nearly to the ground,cast a glow from side to side,while t he black night hangs overhead like a canopy,and thus keeps the splendor fr om diffusing itself away.The wet sidewalks gleam with a broad sheet of red light.The rain-drops glitter,as if the sky were pouring down rubies.The spou ts gush with fire.Methinks the scene is an emblem of the deceptive glare, which mortals throw around their footsteps in the moral world,thus bedazzli ng themselves,till they forget the impenetrable obscurity that hems them in, and that can be dispelled only by radiance from above.And after all,it is a cheerless scene,and cheerless are the wanderers in it.Here comes one wh o has so long been familiar with tempestuous weather that he takes the blus ter of the storm for a friendly greeting,as if it should say,"How fare ye,br other?"He is a retired sea-captain,wrapped in some nameless garment of th e pea-jacket order,and is now laying his course towards the Marine Insuranc e Office,there to spin yarns of gale and shipwreck,with a crew of old sead ogs like himself.The blast will put in its word among their hoarse voices,an d be understood by all of them.Next I meet an unhappy slipshod gentleman, with a cloak flung hastily over his shoulders,running a race with boisterous winds,and striving to glide between the drops of rain.Some domestic emer gency or other has blown this miserable man from his warm fireside in ques t of a doctor!See that little vagabond,-how carelessly he has taken his stand right underneath a spout,while staring at some object of curiosity in a sho p-window!Surely the rain is his native element;he must have fallen with it from the clouds,as frogs are supposed to do.Here is a picture,and a pretty one.A young man and a girl,both envelop ed in cloaks,and huddled underneath the scanty protection of a cotton umbr ella.She wears rubber overshoes;but he is in his dancing-pumps;and they a re on their way,no doubt,to sonic cotillon-party,or subscription-ball at a do llar a head,refreshments included.Thus they struggle against the gloomy tem pest,lured onward by a vision of festal splendor.But,ah!a most lamentable disaster.Bewildered by the red,blue,and yellow meteors,in an apothecary's window,they have stepped upon a slippery remnant of ice,and are precipi tated into a confluence of swollen floods,at the corner of two streets.Luckl ess lovers!Were it my nature to be other than a looker-on in life,I would a ttempt your rescue.Since that may not be,I vow,should you be drowned,t o weave such a pathetic story of your fate,as shall call forth tears to drown you both anew.Do ye touch bottom,my young friends?Yes;they emerge li ke a water-nymph and a river deity,and paddle hand in hand out of the de pths of the dark pool.They hurry homeward,dripping,disconsolate,abashed, but with love too warm to be chilled by the cold water.They have stood a test which proves too strong for many.Faithful,though over head and ears in trouble!Onward I go,deriving a sympathetic joy or sorrow from the varied aspect of mortal affairs,even as my figure catches a gleam from the lighted window s,or is blackened by an interval of darkness.Not that mine is altogether a c hameleon spirit,with no hue of its own.Now I pass into a more retired stre et,where the dwellings of wealth and poverty are intermingled,presenting a range of strongly contrasted pictures.Here,too,may be found the golden m ean.Through yonder casement I discern a family circle,-the grandmother,the parents,and the children,-all flickering,shadow-like,in the glow of a wood-fir e.Bluster,fierce blast,and beat,thou wintry rain,against the window-panes! Ye cannot damp the enjoyment of that fireside.Surely my fate is hard,that I should be wandering homeless here,taking to my bosom night,and storm, and solitude,instead of wife and children.Peace,murmurer!Doubt not that darker guests are sitting round the hearth,though the warm blaze hides all but blissful images.Well;here is still a brighter scene.A stately mansion,illu minated for a ball,with cut-glass chandeliers and alabaster lamps in every ro om,and sunny landscapes hanging round the walls.See!a coach has stopped, whence emerges a slender beauty,who,canopied by two umbrellas,glides within the portal,and vanishes amid lightsome thrills of music.Will she ever feel the night-wind and the rain?Perhaps,-perhaps!And will Death and Sorrow ever enter that proud mansion?As surely as the dancers will be gay wit hin its halls to-night.Such thoughts sadden,yet satisfy my heart;for they te ach me that the poor man,in his mean,weather-beaten hovel,without a fir e to cheer him,may call the rich his brother,brethren by Sorrow,who must be an inmate of both their households,-brethren by Death,who will lead th em,both to other homes.Onward,still onward,I plunge into the night.Now have I reached the utm ost limits of the town,where the last lamp struggles feebly with the darknes s,like the farthest star that stands sentinel on the borders of uncreated spac e.It is strange what sensations of sublimity may spring from a very humble source.Such are suggested by this hollow roar of a subterranean cataract,w here the mighty stream of a kennel precipitates itself beneath an iron grate, and is seen no more on earth.Listen awhile to its voice of mystery;and fan cy will magnify it,till you start and smile at the illusion.And now another s ound,-the rumbling of wheels,-as the mail-coach,outward bound,rolls heavily off the pavements,and splashes through the mud and water of the road.Al l night long,the poor passengers will be tossed to and fro between drowsy watch and troubled sleep,and will dream of their own quiet beds,and awak e to find themselves still jolting onward.Happier my lot,who will straightway hie me to my familiar room,and toast myself comfortably before the fire, musing,and fitfully dozing,and fancying a strangeness in such sights as all m ay see.But first let me gaze at this solitary figure,who comes hitherward wi th a tin lantern,which throws the circular pattern of its punched holes on t he ground about him.He passes fearlessly into the unknown gloom,whither I will not follow him.This figure shall supply me with a moral,wherewith,for lack of a more ap propriate one,I may wind up my sketch.He fears not to tread the dreary p ath before him,because his lantern,which was kindled at the fireside of his home,will light him back to that same fireside again.And thus we,night-wa nderers through a stormy and dismal world,if we bear the lamp of Faith,enkindled at a celestial fire,it will surely lead us home to that Heaven whence its radiance was borrowed.。

The Bet (by Anton Chekhov)About the authorAnton Pavlovich Chekhov (Date of Birth 29 January 1860, Taganrog, Russia Date of Death 15 July 1904, Badenweiler, Germany) was a Russian short-story writer, playwright and physician, considered to be one of the greatest short-story writers in the history of world literature. His career as a dramatist produced four classics and his best short stories are held in high esteem by writers and critics.Plot summaryThe story begins with a heated argument at a party over which is more moral, capital punishment or life imprisonment. The host of the party, a twenty-five year old lawyer at the party responds, saying, he would choose the life sentence to be more moral because any life is better than no life at all.This response causes the banker to bet the lawyer two million dollars in five years solitary confinement. The lawyer accepts the wager, but pushes it to fifteen years in hopes of making a point. While the banker remained concerned primarily about the money, the lawyer stays in confinement for almost fifteen years when, with only five minutes remaining, he renounces his quest for the two million dollars. In his fifteen years of solitude, the lawyer has come to the realization that money is of no significance in comparison with true meaning of life.Character analysisThe lawyerThe lawyer who was shut away for fifteen years won the bet in the moral sense. He began to read in earnest though it was difficult at first to endure the solitary confinement. His reading opened his mind and gave him wisdom. He was able to appreciate much of the world without actually experiencing it. As his wisdom increased he began to see the weaknesses of mankind as a whole and he came to despise those weaknesses. Because of that wisdom he purposely lost the bet by leaving five hours before the end of the agreed upon time, thus renouncing the money he was supposed to win.The bankerThe banker enjoys his wealth deeply and his obsession for money proves to be the cause of his failure as he slowly loses everything he has .The banker won only in the sense that he did not lose money, but he lost so much more of himself. He nearly killed the lawyer in his desire to avoid losing his money. After the lawyer escaped, the banker did not even have the moral nature to let others know why the lawyer escaped. He took the letter the lawyer wrote explaining why he did what he did and locked it away before anyone could see it.Themes●The life of a human is far more valuable than money.●Worldly, material goods may blind people to what is trulyimportant in life.By giving up worldly things one can receive true knowledge. 安东·巴甫洛维奇·契诃夫编辑契诃夫即安东·巴甫洛维奇·契诃夫，更多含义，请参阅契诃夫（多义词）。

契诃夫短篇⼩说选摘抄及赏析契诃夫短篇⼩说选摘抄及赏析 ⼩说是以刻画⼈物形象为中⼼，通过完整的故事情节和环境描写来反映社会⽣活的⽂学体裁。

下⾯是⼩编收集整理的契诃夫短篇⼩说选摘抄及赏析，供⼤家参考借鉴，希望可以帮助到有需要的朋友。

《变⾊龙》 变⾊龙是契诃夫早期创作的⼀篇讽刺⼩说。

在这篇著名的⼩说⾥，他以精湛的艺术⼿法，塑造了⼀个专横跋扈、欺下媚上、看风使舵的沙皇专制制度⾛狗的典型形象，把讽刺的利刃对准沙皇专制制度，有⼒地揭露了反动政权⽖⽛们的⽆耻和丑恶。

⼩说的内容富有喜剧性。

⼀只⼩狗咬了⾦银匠的⼿指，巡官便来断案。

最突出的是奥楚蔑洛夫这⼀⼈物，从他对下属、对百姓的语⾔中表现他的专横跋扈、作威作福;从他与达官贵⼈有关的⼈，甚⾄狗的语⾔中暴露他的阿谀奉承、卑劣⽆耻;从他污秽的谩骂随⼝喷出来揭开他貌若威严公正⾥⾯的粗俗⽆聊。

同时，作者故意很少写他的外貌神态，令⼈可以想象：此⼈在说出这⼀连串令⼈难以启齿的语⾔时，竟然是脸不变⾊⼼不跳的常态，由此更突出了这⼀⼈物丑恶的嘴脸、卑劣的灵魂。

奥楚蔑洛夫在短短的⼏分钟内，经历了五次变化。

善变是奥楚蔑洛夫的性格特征。

作品以善于适应周围物体的颜⾊，很快地改变肤⾊的“变⾊龙”作⽐喻，起了画龙点睛的作⽤。

如果狗主是普通百姓，那么他严惩⼩狗，株连狗主，中饱私囊;如果狗主是将军或将军哥哥，那么他奉承拍马，邀赏请功，威吓百姓。

他的谄媚权贵、欺压百姓的反动本性是永远不变的。

因此，当他不断的⾃我否定时，他都那么⾃然⽽迅速，不知⼈间还有羞耻事!“变⾊龙”——奥楚蔑洛夫已经成为⼀个代名词。

⼈们经常⽤“变⾊龙”这个代名词，来讽刺那些常常在相互对⽴的观点间变来变去的反动阶级代表⼈物。

对他们说来，毫⽆信义原则可⾔。

万物皆备于我，⼀切为我所⽤。

他们这⼀伙不就是现实⽣活中的变⾊龙——奥楚蔑洛夫吗? 《变⾊龙》是契诃夫早期创作的⼀篇讽刺⼩说。

它没有风花雪⽉的景物描写，也没有曲折离奇的故事安排，作家在描述⼀个警官偶然审理⼀件⼈被狗咬的案情中，只⽤寥寥⼏笔，就极其简练、锋利地为我们勾勒出⼀个灵魂丑恶，⾯⽬可憎，看风使舵的沙皇⾛狗——警官奥楚蔑洛夫的形象，寄寓着⼀个发⼈深思的主题。

A BABY TRAMPBy Ambrose BierceIf you had seen little Jo standing at the street corner in the r ain,you would hardly have admired him.It was apparently an or dinary autumn rainstorm,but the water which fell upon Jo（who was hardly old enough to be either just or unjust,and so p erhaps did not come under the law of impartial distribution）appea red to have some property peculiar to itself：one would have sai d it was dark and adhesive—sticky.But that could hardly be so,e ven in Blackburg,where things certainly did occur that were a g ood deal out of the common.For example,ten or twelve years before,a shower of small frog s had fallen,as is credibly attested by a contemporaneous chronicl e,the record concluding with a somewhat obscure statement to t he effect that the chronicler considered it good growing-weather fo r Frenchmen.Some years later Blackburg had a fall of crimson snow；it is col d in Blackburg when winter is on,and the snows are frequent a nd deep.There can be no doubt of it—the snow in this instan ce was of the colour of blood and melted into water of the s ame hue,if water it was,not blood.The phenomenon had attracted wide attention,and science had as many explanations as there were scientists who knew nothing about it.But the men of Bla ckburg—men who for many years had lived right there where th e red snow fell,and might be supposed to know a good dea l about the matter—shook their heads and said something would come of it.And something did,for the next summer was made memorable by the prevalence of a mysterious disease—epidemic,endemic,or th e Lord knows what,though the physicians didn't—which carried aw ay a full half of the population.Most of the other half carrie d themselves away and were slow to return,but finally came ba ck,and were now increasing and multiplying as before,but Blackbu rg had not since been altogether the same.Of quite another kind,though equally“out of the common，”wa s the incident of Hetty Parlow's ghost.Hetty Parlow's maiden nam e had been Brownon,and in Blackburg that meant more than o ne would think.The Brownons had from time immemorial—from the very earliest o f the old colonial days—been the leading family of the town.I t was the richest and it was the best,and Blackburg would hav e shed the last drop of its plebeian blood in defence of the B rownon fair fame.As few of the family's members had ever been known to live permanently away from Blackburg,although mos t of them were educated elsewhere and nearly all had travelle d,there was quite a number of them.The men held most of th e public offices,and the women were foremost in all good work s.Of these latter,Hetty was most beloved by reason of the swee tness of her disposition,the purity of her character and her sing ular personal beauty.She married in Boston a young scapegrace na med Parlow,and like a good Brownon brought him to Blackburg forthwith and made a man and a town councillor of him.The y had a child which they name Joseph and dearly loved,as wa s then the fashion among parents in all that region.Then they di ed of the mysterious disorder already mentioned,and at the ag e of one whole year Joseph set up as an orphan. Unfortunately for Joseph the disease which had cut off his parents did not stop at that；it went on and extirpated nearly the wh ole Brownon contingent and its allies by marriage；and those wh o fed did not return.The tradition was broken,the Brownon est ates passed into alien hands,and the only Brownons remaining i n that place were underground in Oak Hill Cemetery,where,indee d,was a colony of them powerful enough to resist the encroach ment of surrounding tribes and hold the best part of the ground s.But about the ghost.One night,about three years after the death of Hetty Parlow,a number of the young people of Blackburg were passing Oa k Hill Cemetery in a wagon—if you have been there you will re member that the road to Greenton runs alongside it on the sout h.They had been attending a May Day festival at Greenton；an d that serves to fix the date.Altogether there may have been a dozen,and a jolly party they were,considering the legacy of gloom left by the town's recent sombre experiences.As the y passed the cemetery,the man driving suddenly reined in his te am with an exclamation of surprise.It was suffciently surprising,n o doubt,for just ahead,and almost at the roadside,though insi de the cemetery,stood the ghost of Hetty Parlow.There could be no doubt of it,for she had been personally known to ever y youth and maiden in the party.That established the thing's identi ty；its character as ghost was signifed by all the customary signs —the shroud,the long,undone hair,the‘far-away look'—everything.T his disquieting apparition was stretching out its arms toward the west,as if in supplication for the evening star,which,certainl y,was an alluring object,though obviously out of reach.As they all sat silent（so the story goes）every member of that party o f merrymakers—they had merry made on coffee and lemonade only—distinctly heard that ghost call the name‘Joey,Joey！'A momen t later nothing was there.Of course one does not have to believ e all that.Now,at that moment,as was afterward ascertained,Joey was wa ndering about in the sagebrush on the opposite side of the conti nent,near Winnemucca,in the State of Nevada.He had been ta ken to that town by some good persons distantly related to hi s dead father,and by them adopted and tenderly cared for.But o n that evening the poor child had strayed from home and was lost in the desert.His after history is involved in obscurity and has gaps which conj ecture alone can fll.It is known that he was found by a famil y of Piute Indians,who kept the little wretch with them for a time and then sold him—actually sold him for money to a woman on one of the east-bound trains,at a station a lo ng way from Winnemucca.The woman professed to have made al l manner of inquiries,but all in vain：so,being childless and a widow,she adopted him herself.At this point of his career J o seemed to be getting a long way from the condition of orph anage；the interposition of a multitude of parents between himsel f and that woeful state promised him a long immunity from its disadvantages.Mrs.Darnell,his newest mother,lived in Cleveland,Ohio.But her adopted son did not long remain with her.He was seen one a fternoon by a policeman,new to that beat,deliberately toddling a way from her house,and being questioned answered that he was “a doin'home.”He must have travelled by rail,somehow,for thre e days later he was in the town of Whiteville,which,as you know,is a long way from Blackburg.His clothing was in pretty fair condition,but he was sinfully dirty.Unable to give any acco unt of himself he was arrested as a vagrant and sentenced to i mprisonment in the Infants'Sheltering Home—where he was washed. Jo ran away from the Infants'Sheltering Home at Whiteville—just to ok to the woods one day,and the Home knew him no more f or ever.We find him next,or rather get back to him,standing forlorn i n the cold autumn rain at a suburban street corner in Blackbur g；and it seems right to explain now that the raindrops falling u pon him there were really not dark and gummy；they only faile d to make his face and hands less so.Jo was indeed fearfully and wonderfully besmirched,as by the hand of an artist.And t he forlorn little tramp had no shoes；his feet were bare,red,an d swollen,and when he walked he limped with both legs.As to clothing—ah,you would hardly have had the skill to name an y single garment that he wore,or say by what magic he kept it upon him.That he was cold all over and all through did n ot admit of a doubt；he knew it himself.Anyone would have bee n cold there that evening；but,for that reason,no one else wa s there.How Jo came to be there himself,he could not for th e flickering little life of him have told,even if gifted with a vo cabulary exceeding a hundred words.From the way he stared abou t him one could have seen that he had not the faintest notio n of where（nor why）he was.Yet he was not altogether a fool in his day and generation；bein g cold and hungry,and still able to walk a little by bending hi s knees very much indeed and putting his feet down toes firs t,he decided to enter one of the houses which flanked the str eet at long intervals and looked so bright and warm.But when he attempted to act upon that very sensible decision a burly dog came browsing out and disputed his right.Inexpressibly frighte ned,and believing,no doubt（with some reason,too），that brute s without meant brutality within,he hobbled away from all the houses,and with grey,wet fields to right of him and grey,wet fields to left of him—with the rainhalf blinding him and the night coming in mist and darkness,held his way along the road that leads to Greenton.That is to say,the road leads tho se to Greenton who succeed in passing the Oak Hill Cemetery.A considerable number every year do not.Jo did not.They found him there the next morning,very wet,very cold,bu t no longer hungry.He had apparently entered the cemetery gate —hoping,perhaps,that it led to a house where there was no dogand gone blundering about in the darkness,falling over man y a grave,no doubt,until he had tired of it all and given up. The little body lay upon one side,with one soiled cheek upon one soiled hand,the other hand tucked away among the rag s to make it warm,the other cheek washed clean and white a t last,as for a kiss from one of God's great angels.It was obs erved—though nothing was thought of it at the time,the body being as yet unidentifed—that the little fellow was lying upon the grave of Hetty Parlow.The grave,however,had not opened to receive him.That is a circumstance which,without actual irrev erence,one may wish had been ordered otherwise.。

the bet文章风格《打赌》(The Bet)，俄国作家契诃夫的短篇小说作品。

作者用四千多字，描述律师打赌自愿监禁十五年的时间里，年轻律师的人格升华和银行家的人格倒退。

讽刺了对金钱追逐的腐化风气，表达了对生命价值与意义的思考。

一、叙事手法：使用外聚焦式叙事视角，淡化戏剧性法国叙事学家热拉尔・热奈特立足于观察点，把叙述者划分为零聚焦、内聚焦和外聚焦三种类型。

零聚焦是指叙述者以无所不知的眼光讲述故事。

视点不受任何限制，可以从一个人物转向另一个人物，从一个场景转向另一个场景。

可以深入到人的内心，更可以随意作主观评价。

内聚焦是指叙述者以故事中人物的眼光叙述故事，视点被限制在一个或几个人物身上，叙述者只叙述这一个或几个人物所感觉到的事情。

外聚焦是指叙述者从故事外部对人物和场景聚焦，仅仅向读者展示人物的话语和行动，而不进入人物内心，不作主观评价。

①采用零聚焦式叙事视角创作而成的文学作品往往带有创作者强烈的主观情绪，作者在文学作品中直抒胸臆，直接表达对作品中人物的喜恶，进而很大程度上指引了读者的思考和判断。

这种叙事视角的使用能够让读者很轻易的了解作者的创作目的和意义，但是文本本身可以让读者思考的空白空间较少。

而内聚焦和外聚焦两种叙事视角，克制了作者主观情绪的抒发，尽可能的还原生活现实事件的本身面貌，减少人物心理活动的描写，而是期望读者能够从人物的话语和举止行为上来解读其精神世界，作品的意义不确定性和意义空白促使读者去寻找作品的意义，从而赋予他参与作品意义构成的权利。

这种由意义不确定与空白构成的正是德国著名接受美学家沃尔夫冈・伊瑟尔伊瑟尔所提出的“召唤结构”。

契诃夫在《打赌》中使用了外聚焦式的叙事视角，只对银行家和律师的打赌以及律师十五年的监禁进行客观的描述，而不带有自身的观感。

但是从这些客观性的对于人物话语，形象，行动的描述中，读者能够对小说故事的整体事件有清晰的认识，并且小说的人物塑造也颇为立体深刻。

如“桌子后面一动不动坐着一个没有人样的人。

契诃夫讽刺短篇《诽谤者》英译本的文体分析【以《契诃夫讽刺短篇《诽谤者》英译本的文体分析》为标题，写一篇3000字的中文文章】俄国作家尼古拉契诃夫的短篇小说《诽谤者》在当代文学史上具有重要意义。

此篇小说是其众多作品中最有代表性的一篇，被认为是“极为技巧性、完美的文学作品”[1]。

2007年，由为契诃夫译作的英文短篇《诽谤者》正式发表。

英译本与原文相比，内容几乎完全一致，但是文体却截然不同。

本文将详细探讨《诽谤者》英译本中文体的特点，和这种文体与契诃夫的作品特色之间的关系。

《诽谤者》英译本中文体的特点可以从三个方面表述，即叙述方式、语言特征和修辞特征。

首先，就叙述方式而言，原文中叙述以第三人称向读者展示，而英译本则以第一人称叙述，使得原文的内容更加引人入胜，更具有吸引力。

例如，原文中第二段的最后一句“他看见自己的生活变得越来越沉闷，越来越无聊”，英译本中被改为“Consequently I become more and more bored with my life, it became more and more tedious”，从第一人称叙述了主人公的思想变化。

其次，从语言特征上来看，英译本的句子比原文简洁得多，把原文中有一大段的内容概括为简洁的一句。

例如，原文中第三段最后一句，“然而他仍然对他自己坚持著从不改变的原则，从不转变他不可救药的态度，他害怕人们看不起他”，英译本中被改写为“However I was consistent in my principles and attitudes, still afraid forsomeone to scorn me”。

此外，《诽谤者》英译本的修辞特征也相当出众，与原文相比，明显更加抑扬顿挫，使故事更加生动有趣。

例如，原文中第五段“于是他走出家门，穿过一片茂密的树林”一句，英译本中改为“So I departed and ran through a dense wood”，把“走出家门”修饰成高腔调的“ran”，就使得整段文字变得更为生动。

the bet预习问题世界级短篇小说巨匠契诃夫相信很多人并不陌生，作为俄国19世纪末期最后一位批判现实主义艺术大师，他与法国作家莫泊桑和美国作家欧亨利并称为“世界三大短篇小说家”。

他的小说紧凑精炼，言简意赅，给读者以独立的思考。

《打赌》(《THE BET》)读完真的有被惊艳到。

整篇文章语言非常精炼，结构紧凑，开头从一个老银行家对十五年前一次晚会的回忆，拉开整个故事的帷幕。

在那次晚会上，关于对死刑和无期徒刑哪种更合乎道德的争论导致了一场长达十五年的赌局，作者形容这场赌局是“野蛮而荒唐的”。

故事的开头非常引人入胜，让人迫不及待地想知道故事后面的情节发展。

让我印象特别深的是作者对这十五年来监禁中律师在便条上要求的描写。

第一年，律师孤独烦闷，白天黑夜小屋内经常传出钢琴的声音，索要的也都是内容轻松的读物;第二年，小屋不再有乐曲声，律师纸条上只要求古典作品；第五年又传出乐曲声，整整一年律师只顾吃饭喝酒，自言自语，甚至哭泣;第六年下半年，律师热衷于研究语言、哲学和历史;十年之后，律师一动不动，只读一本《圣经新约》，读完《福音书》，接着读宗教史和神学著作;最后两年，律师不加选择地读了很多书，自然科学，医学，哲学，小说等。

这些描述非常妙，层层递进，它是一种媒介，让我们可以从中窥探出在这十五年漫长囚禁中律师内心的变化。

小说的结局非常有意思，既在意料之外又在情理之中。

起初读到老银行家来到囚徒室意图杀害律师以及文中对十五年后律师容貌的描述时，我的内心非常压抑，“那张像老人般枯瘦的脸，谁也不会相信他只有四十岁”。

但是当我跟着老银行家的视角读完律师纸上的文字，整个人突然豁然开朗，特别是他写道:“我蔑视你们，你们把谎言当成真理，把丑看作美，宁愿舍弃天国来换取人世，为了用行动向你们表明我蔑视你们赖以生活的一切，我决定放弃那两百万”读到这里简直大快人心，但回归平静后又会觉得:就应该这样，本来就应该这样。

短短2500个单词左右的小说，却让读的人跟着心潮起伏，这也许就是经典之作的魅力吧。

浅析《了不起的盖茨比》中的方位隐喻摘要：概念隐喻的认知机制是跨域映射的过程。

方位隐喻是以空间概念为源域向其他认知域或目标域发生映射进而获得抽象意义的认知过程。

本文以意象图式理论为基础,主要研究《了不起的盖茨比》中建立于上-下图式、中心-边缘图式、容器图式之上的方位隐喻认知机制,进而发现方位隐喻在小说语言运用和主题表达的积极作用。

关键词：方位隐喻;上-下图式;中心-边缘图式;容器图;莱考夫和约翰逊指出,隐喻在我们的生活中普遍存在,它不仅出现在语言中,也会在我们的思维和行动中体现。

人类思考和行动的概念系统是建立在隐喻基础之上的。

概念隐喻中的方位隐喻把一些空间关系投射到非空间的或者抽象的关系上,从而使抽象和未知的概念具体化,进而丰富人们的想象力。

本文从意象图式理论的角度出发,以菲茨杰拉德的代表作《了不起的盖茨比》为研究语料,对小说中的建立于上-下图式、中心-边缘图式、容器图式之上的方位隐喻展开探讨,从而方位隐喻在小说中所发挥的作用。

1.概念隐喻理论1.1概念隐喻的实质和分类概念隐喻的实质就是通过理解或经历一种事物的方式去理解另一种事物。

人们通常从自身的角度认知世界,也就是说,人们首先认识自己,人后开始认识周围的世界。

因此,概念隐喻无处不在,而概念隐喻又体现这人类的思想。

人通过隐喻认识自己,进而认识周围的世界,这就是隐喻的本质,也是隐喻区别于其他思考模式的特别之处。

根据莱考夫的研究,概念隐喻可以分为以下三类:实体隐喻、结构隐喻和方位隐喻。

其中,方位隐喻是一种建立在空间方位基础之上的概念隐喻。

隐喻关系是基于人们方位体验中的“上和下”、“前面和后面”以及“中心和边缘”之上形成的。

1.2概念隐喻中的意象图式意象图示理论不仅是概念结构的一种重要形式,也是认知隐喻学的重要组成部分。

意象图式在概念化形成的过程中起到关键作用,它可以通过抽象和概括反复识别大量的概念、经验和成像。

1.2.1意象图式的内部结构意象图式内部结构中最重要的部分是射体(trajector),它是一个可移动的变量,而且它的移动方向不确定。