一生必读英文美文

布克奖被认为是当代英语小说界的最高奖项，那你知道有哪些英文小说是很好看的吗?下面我就来为大家推荐的经典好看的英文小说，欢迎参阅!经典好看的英文小说 1、《狼厅》 希拉里·曼特尔 英国作家希拉里·曼特尔创作的历史小说，作者花费了五年时间研究此书的创作。根据小说改编的同名电视剧《狼厅》收视率超过《神探夏洛克》、《罗马》创造BBC十三年以来最高收视。 小说以都铎王朝为背景，从亨利八世与凯瑟琳王后的离婚案为切入点，讲述了红衣大主教失势、凯瑟琳王后遭废黜、亨利八世迎娶安妮·博林等一系列事件。主人公托马斯·克伦威尔处心积虑、步步为营，终于成为第一权臣。克伦威尔的生平与亨利八世的宫廷为两条交织的线索，编织出一张反映16世纪初英格兰政治、宗教及经济图景的巨网。 2、《钓鱼的男孩》 奇戈希·奥比奥玛 尼日利亚作家奇戈希·奥比奥玛处女作。透过九岁男孩的天真之眼，窥见原始人性的罪与罚。被《纽约时报》《观察家报》《经济学人》《华尔街日报》《金融时报》、英国GQ杂志等17家媒体评选为“年度最佳图书”。 故事讲述了四个男孩趁父亲不在，外出钓鱼。他们在那里遇见一个疯子，疯子预言大哥将会死在其中一个弟弟手中。怀疑的种子被种下，信任因此破裂，兄弟四人被无情的分离。一个无理的预言改变了四个男孩、一个家庭的命运…… 3、《辛德勒名单》 托马斯·肯尼利 美国导演史蒂芬·史匹柏执导的《辛德勒的名单》改编自这本小说，共获七个奥斯卡金像奖与其他多个奖项。那个穿着红衣服的小女孩也成为电影史上最经典的形象之一。 本书是澳大利亚小说家托马斯·肯尼利的小说的作品，改编自真实事件。辛德勒目睹克拉科夫的犹太人遭到了惨绝人寰的大屠杀，因此受到了极大的震撼，他贿赂军官，让自己的工厂成为集中营的附属劳役营，在那些疯狂屠杀的日子里，他的工厂也成为了犹太人的避难所。1944年，德国战败前夕，屠杀犹太人的行动越发疯狂，辛德勒向德军军官开出了1200人的名单，倾家荡产买下了这些犹太人的生命。在那些暗无天日的岁月里，拯救一个人，就是拯救全世界。 4、《长日留痕》 石黑一雄 本书是著名日裔英国小说家石黑一雄的代表作。小说以不同凡响的现实主义手法，刻画了一战后英格兰的一位尽善尽美之典型的男管家史蒂文斯及其颓废乖戾、偏执保守的内心世界。他的文体以细腻优美著称，几乎每部小说都被提名或得奖，其作品已被翻译成二十八种语言。 史蒂文斯作为一名追求完美的男管家，服务于达林顿府三十余年。在此期间，他一方面尽力使自己成为男管家中的杰出人物，追求这一阶层所特有的“尊严”，同时，他也为此付出了相当的代价，比如说不得不冷漠地处理父子亲情，盲目忠实于其主人达林顿却无视后者一度与纳粹交往甚密、甚至帮助极右势力的现实。这种盲目使他甚至失去了与心爱的女管家肯顿小姐的情感。作者以最能代表英格兰社会和文化特征的男管家为主角，以现实主义的手法入木三分地表现了英格兰的政治、历史、文化、传统与人的思想意识。 好看的中文小说 《大染坊》 《大染坊》讲述的是陈寿亭这位印染业奇才的奋斗故事，清朝末年,山东周村。十五岁陈六子父母早亡,以讨饭为业。但他心存善良,天资聪明,胸怀大志。要饭之余,爱去书棚听说书,身受民间传统文化浸染。在他要饭过程中,常常受到同样穷困潦倒的琐子叔的照顾,寿亭铭记在心,又偶然结识了苗海东…… 他虽不识字，却勇于创新，智计百出，深明大义，忠心爱国。可以说陈杰的《大染坊》既是个人奋斗的深情礼赞，也是一曲民族工业的悠长挽歌。 清朝末年的一个风雪之夜，乞丐陈寿亭佯装冻昏，混入周村通和染坊。寿亭靠巧言令色，从刘师傅那里偷学手艺，然后辞掉了高傲的师傅，自己出任主槽兼经理，是年十五岁。通和染坊有了商界奇，才便渐成霸主。 七七事变之后，政府不事抵抗，济南顿为孤城。韩复榘弃城逃跑。陈寿亭虽是才力非凡，但面对国家覆亡，只能付诸绝望的微笑…… 小说在抓住陈寿亭艰难创业这条主线的同时，还描写了封建社会的芸芸众生。诸如奸商的狡诈，娼妓的诌媚，洋奴的卑下……都刻画得入骨三分，惟妙惟肖。至于家庭纠葛，伦理道德，亲情恩怨……也写得淋漓尽致，颇见功底。本书既是个人奋斗的深情礼赞，也是一曲民族工业的悠长挽歌。 经典的外国小说 《钢铁是怎样炼成的》 《钢铁是怎样炼成的》是苏联作家尼古拉•奥斯特洛夫斯基所著的一部于1933年写成长篇小说，。小说通过保尔.柯察金的成长道路，告诉人们，一个人只有在革命的艰难困苦中战胜敌人也战胜自己，只有在把自己的追求和祖国、人民的利益联系在一起的时候，才会创造出奇迹，才会成长为钢铁战士。革命者在斗争中百炼成钢，是小说的一个重要主题。1942年，苏联根据原著小说拍摄了一部同名的电影。 《钢铁是怎样炼成的》是一部描写新人成长历程和揭示新人优秀品质的优秀小说。当一位英国记者问作者为什么以《钢铁是怎样炼成的》为书名时，奥斯特洛夫斯基回答说：“钢是在烈火与骤冷中铸造而成的。只有这样它才能成为坚硬的，什么都不惧怕，我们这一代人也是在这样的斗争中、在艰苦的考验中锻炼出来的，并且学会了在生活面前不颓废。” 这个书名，形象地概括了他所要表达的思想内容;自己这一代人的成长道路和思想性格。 通过保尔的成长道路，小说告诉人们，一个人只有在革命的艰难困苦中战胜敌人也战胜自己，只有在把自己的追求和祖国、人民的利益联系在一起的时候，才会创造出奇迹，才会成长为钢铁战士。革命者在斗争中百炼成钢，这是小说的一个重要主题。通过揭示保尔为了党和人民的事业，敢于战胜任何艰难困苦的刚毅性格，小说形象地告诉青年一代，什么是共产主义理想，如何为共产主义理想去努力奋斗。革命战士应当有一个什么样的人生，这是小说的又一主题。保尔在凭吊女战友娃莲的墓地时所说的那段话，就是他的共产主义人生观的自白，也是对小说这一主题的阐发： “人最宝贵的东西是生命，生命对于我们只有一次。一个人的生命应当这样度过;当他回忆往事的时候，他不因虚度年华而悔恨，也不因碌碌无为而羞愧——这样，在临死的时候，他能够说：‘我整个的生命和全部精力，都已献给世界上最壮丽的事业——为人类的解放而斗争。’” 可以这样来概括小说的主题思想：人的一生应当像保尔那样去度过。 猜你喜欢： 1. 一生必读的英文经典美文 2. 一生必读英语经典美文 3. 学习英语20本必读的英文书籍有哪些 4. 优秀经典英文美文欣赏 5. 豆瓣评分9.0以上的英文名著排名 6. 关于经典英文美文欣赏

教育 的进步是在改变的基础上实现的,改变的第一步就是摒弃墨守成规的教学思维,英语作为国际沟通交流的语言工具,其在全球化进程中扮演着重要的角色。下面是我带来的经典英语 文章 阅读，欢迎阅读!经典英语文章阅读篇一 十二月的玫瑰 Roses in December Coaches more times than not use their hearts instead of their heads to make tough decisions. Unfortunately, this wasn’t the case when I realized we had a baseball conference game scheduled when our seniors would be in Washington, D.C. for the annual senior field trip. We were a team dominated by seniors, and for the first time in many years, we were in the conference race for first place. I knew we couldn’t win without our seniors, so I called the rival coach and asked to reschedule the game when everyone was available to play. “No way,” he replied. The seniors were crushed and offered to skip the much-awaited traditional trip. I assured them they needed to go on the trip as part of their educational experience, though I really wanted to accept their offer and win and go on to the conference championship. But I did not, and on that fateful Tuesday, I wished they were there to play. I had nine underclass players eager and excited that they finally had a chance to play. The most excited player was a young mentally challenged boy we will call Billy. Billy was, I believe, overage, but because he loved sports so much, an understanding principal had given him permission to be on the football and baseball teams. Billy lived and breathed sports and now he would finally get his chance to play. I think his happiness captured the imagination of the eight other substitute players. Billy was very small in size, but he had a big heart and had earned the respect of his teammates with his effort and enthusiasm. He was a left-handed hitter and had good baseball skills. His favorite pastime, except for the time he practiced sports, was to sit with the men at a local rural store talking about sports. On this day, I began to feel that a loss might even be worth Billy’s chance to play. Our opponents jumped off to a four-run lead early in the game, just as expected. Somehow we came back to within one run, and that was the situation when we went to bat in the bottom of the ninth. I was pleased with our team’s effort and the constant grin on Billy’s face. If only we could win..., I thought, but that’s asking too much. If we lose by one run, it will be a victory in itself. The weakest part of our lineup was scheduled to hit, and the opposing coach put his ace pitcher in to seal the victory. To our surprise, with two outs, a batter walked, and the tying run was on first base. Our next hitter was Billy. The crowd cheered as if this were the final inning of the conference championship, and Billy waved jubilantly. I knew he would be unable to hit this pitcher, but what a day it had been for all of us. Strike one. Strike two. A fastball. Billy hit it down the middle over the right fielder’s head for a triple to tie the score. Billy was beside himself, and the crowd went wild. Ben, our next hitter, however, hadn’t hit the ball even once in batting practice or intrasquad games. I knew there was absolutely no way for the impossible dream to continue. Besides, our opponents had the top of their lineup if we went into overtime. It was a crazy situation and one that needed reckless strategy. I called a time-out, and everyone seemed confused when I walked to third base and whispered something to Billy. As expected, Ben swung on the first two pitches, not coming close to either. When the catcher threw the ball back to the pitcher Billy broke from third base sprinting as hard as he could. The pitcher didn’t see him break, and when he did he whirled around wildly and fired the ball home. Billy dove in head first, beat the throw, and scored the winning run. This was not the World Series, but don’t tell that to anyone present that day. Tears were shed as Billy, the hero, was lifted on the shoulders of all eight team members. If you go through town today, forty-two years later, you’ll likely see Billy at that same country store relating to an admiring group the story of the day he won the game that no one expected to win. Of all the spectacular events in my sports career, this memory is the highlight. It exemplified what sports can do for people, and Billy’s great day proved that to everyone who saw the game. J. M. Barrie, the playwright, may have said it best when he wrote, “God gave us memories so that we might have roses in December.” Billy gave all of us a rose garden. 经典英语文章阅读篇二 Big Red The first time we set eyes on "Big Red," father, mother and I were trudging through the freshly fallen snow on our way to Hubble's Hardware store on Main Street in Huntsville, Ontario. We planned to enter our name in the annual Christmas drawing for a chance to win a hamper filled with fancy tinned cookies, tea, fruit and candy. As we passed the Eaton's department store's window, we stopped as usual to gaze and do a bit of dreaming. The gaily decorated window display held the best toys ever. I took an instant hankering for a huge green wagon. It was big enough to haul three armloads of firewood, two buckets of swill or a whole summer's worth of pop bottles picked from along the highway. There were skates that would make Millar's Pond well worth shovelling and dolls much too pretty to play with. And they were all nestled snugly beneath the breathtakingly flounced skirt of Big Red. Mother's eyes were glued to the massive flare of red shimmering satin, dotted with twinkling sequin-centred black velvet stars. "My goodness," she managed to say in trancelike wonder. "Would you just look at that dress!" Then, totally out of character, mother twirled one spin of a waltz on the slippery sidewalk. Beneath the heavy, wooden-buttoned, grey wool coat she had worn every winter for as long as I could remember, mother lost her balance and tumbled. Father quickly caught her. Her cheeks redder than usual, mother swatted dad for laughing. "Oh, stop that!" she ordered, shooing his fluttering hands as he swept the snow from her coat. "What a silly dress to be perched up there in the window of Eaton's!" She shook her head in disgust. "Who on earth would want such a splashy dress?" As we continued down the street, mother turned back for one more look. "My goodness! You'd think they'd display something a person could use!" Christmas was nearing, and the red dress was soon forgotten. Mother, of all people, was not one to wish for, or spend money on, items that were not practical. "There are things we need more than this," she'd always say, or, "There are things we need more than that." Father, on the other hand, liked to indulge whenever the budget allowed. Of course, he'd get a scolding for his occasional splurging, but it was all done with the best intention. Like the time he brought home the electric range. In our old Muskoka farmhouse on Oxtongue Lake, Mother was still cooking year-round on a wood stove. In the summer, the kitchen would be so hot even the houseflies wouldn't come inside. Yet, there would be Mother – roasting - right along with the pork and turnips. One day, Dad surprised her with a fancy new electric range. She protested, of course, saying that the wood stove cooked just dandy, that the electric stove was too dear and that it would cost too much hydro to run it. All the while, however, she was polishing its already shiny chrome knobs. In spite of her objections, Dad and I knew that she cherished that new stove. There were many other modern things that old farm needed, like indoor plumbing and a clothes dryer, but Mom insisted that those things would have to wait until we could afford them. Mom was forever doing chores - washing laundry by hand, tending the pigs and working in our huge garden - so she always wore mended, cotton-print housedresses and an apron to protect the front. She did have one or two "special" dresses saved for church on Sundays. And with everything else she did, she still managed to make almost all of our clothes. They weren't fancy, but they did wear well. That Christmas I bought Dad a handful of fishing lures from the Five to a Dollar store, and wrapped them individually in matchboxes so he'd have plenty of gifts to open from me. Choosing something for Mother was much harder. When Dad and I asked, she thought carefully then hinted modestly for some tea towels, face cloths or a new dishpan. On our last trip to town before Christmas, we were driving up Main Street when Mother suddenly exclaimed in surprise: "Would you just look at that!" She pointed excitedly as Dad drove past Eaton's. "That big red dress is gone," she said in disbelief. "It's actually gone." "Well . . . I'll be!" Dad chuckled. "By golly, it is!" "Who'd be fool enough to buy such a frivolous dress?" Mother questioned, shaking her head. I quickly stole a glance at Dad. His blue eyes were twinkling as he nudged me with his elbow. Mother craned her neck for another glimpse out the rear window as we rode on up the street. "It's gone . . ." she whispered. I was almost certain that I detected a trace of yearning in her voice. I'll never forget that Christmas morning. I watched as Mother peeled the tissue paper off a large box that read "Eaton's Finest Enamel Dishpan" on its lid. "Oh Frank," she praised, "just what I wanted!" Dad was sitting in his rocker, a huge grin on his face. "Only a fool wouldn't give a priceless wife like mine exactly what she wants for Christmas," he laughed. "Go ahead, open it up and make sure there are no chips." Dad winked at me, confirming his secret, and my heart filled with more love for my father than I thought it could hold! Mother opened the box to find a big white enamel dishpan - overflowing with crimson satin that spilled out across her lap. With trembling hands she touched the elegant material of Big Red. "Oh my goodness!" she managed to utter, her eyes filled with tears. "Oh Frank . . ." Her face was as bright as the star that twinkled on our tree in the corner of the small room. "You shouldn't have . . ." came her faint attempt at scolding. "Oh now, never mind that!" Dad said. "Let's see if it fits," he laughed, helping her slip the marvellous dress over her shoulders. As the shimmering red satin fell around her, it gracefully hid the patched and faded floral housedress underneath. I watched, my mouth agape, captivated by a radiance in my parents I had never noticed before. As they waltzed around the room, Big Red swirled its magic deep into my heart. "You look beautiful," my dad whispered to my mom - and she surely did! 经典英语文章阅读篇三 你才是我的幸福 She was dancing. My crippled grandmother was dancing. I stood in the living room doorway absolutely stunned. I glanced at the kitchen table and sure enough-right under a small, framed drawing on the wall-was a freshly baked peach pie. I heard her sing when I opened the door but did not want to interrupt the beautiful song by yelling I had arrived, so I just tiptoed to the living room. I looked at how her still-lean body bent beautifully, her arms greeting the sunlight that was pouring through the window. And her legs... Those legs that had stiffly walked, aided with a cane, insensible shoes as long as I could remember. Now she was wearing beautiful dancing shoes and her legs obeyed her perfectly. No limping. No stiffness. Just beautiful, fluid motion. She was the pet of the dancing world. And then she’d had her accident and it was all over. I had read that in an old newspaper clipping. She turned around in a slow pirouette and saw me standing in the doorway. Her song ended, and her beautiful movements with it, so abruptly that it felt like being shaken awake from a beautiful dream. The sudden silence rang in my ears. Grandma looked so much like a kid caught with her hand in a cookie jar that I couldn’t help myself, and a slightly nervous laughter escaped. Grandma sighed and turned towards the kitchen. I followed her, not believing my eyes. She was walking with no difficulties in her beautiful shoes. We sat down by the table and cut ourselves big pieces of her delicious peach pie. "So...” I blurted, “How did your leg heal?" "To tell you the truth—my legs have been well all my life," she said. "But I don’t understand!" I said, "Your dancing career... I mean... You pretended all these years? "Very much so," Grandmother closed her eyes and savored the peach pie, "And for a very good reason." "What reason?" "Your grandfather." "You mean he told you not to dance?" "No, this was my choice. I am sure I would have lost him if I had continued dancing. I weighed fame and love against each other and love won." She thought for a while and then continued. “We were talking about engagement when your grandfather had to go to war. It was the most horrible day of my life when he left. I was so afraid of losing him, the only way I could stay sane was to dance. I put all my energy and time into practicing—and I became very good. Critics praised me, the public loved me, but all I could feel was the ache in my heart, not knowing whether the love of my life would ever return. Then I went home and read and re-read his letters until I fell asleep. He always ended his letters with ‘You are my Joy. I love you with my life’ and after that he wrote his name. And then one day a letter came. There were only three sentences: ‘I have lost my leg. I am no longer a whole man and now give you back your freedom. It is best you forget about me.’” "I made my decision there and then. I took my leave, and traveled away from the city. When I returned I had bought myself a cane and wrapped my leg tightly with bandages. I told everyone I had been in a car crash and that my leg would never completely heal again. My dancing days were over. No one suspected the story—I had learned to limp convincingly before I returned home. And I made sure the first person to hear of my accident was a reporter I knew well. Then I traveled to the hospital. They had pushed your grandfather outside in his wheelchair. There was a cane on the ground by his wheelchair. I took a deep breath, leaned on my cane and limped to him. " By now I had forgotten about the pie and listened to grandma, mesmerized. “What happened then?” I hurried her when she took her time eating some pie. "I told him he was not the only one who had lost a leg, even if mine was still attached to me. I showed him newspaper clippings of my accident. ‘So if you think I’m going to let you feel sorry for yourself for the rest of your life, think again. There is a whole life waiting for us out there! I don’t intend to be sorry for myself. But I have enough on my plate as it is, so you’d better snap out of it too. And I am not going to carry you-you are going to walk yourself.’" Grandma giggled, a surprisingly girlish sound coming from an old lady with white hair. "I limped a few steps toward him and showed him what I’d taken out of my pocket. ‘Now show me you are still a man,’ I said, ‘I won’t ask again.’ He bent to take his cane from the ground and struggled out of that wheelchair. I could see he had not done it before, because he almost fell on his face, having only one leg. But I was not going to help. And so he managed it on his own and walked to me and never sat in a wheelchair again in his life." "What did you show him?" I had to know. Grandma looked at me and grinned. "Two engagement rings, of course. I had bought them the day after he left for the war and I was not going to waste them on any other man." I looked at the drawing on the kitchen wall, sketched by my grandfather’s hand so many years before. The picture became distorted as tears filled my eyes. “You are my Joy. I love you with my life.” I murmured quietly. The young woman in the drawing sat on her park bench and with twinkling eyes smiled broadly at me, an engagement ring carefully drawn on her finger. 看了“经典英语文章阅读”的人还看了： 1. 经典美文阅读:生命在于完整 2. 英语经典美文阅读:品味现在 3. 经典美文佳作英汉阅读 4. 励志经典英语美文阅读 5. 一生必读的英文经典美文