有哪些有趣的英文小说适合学习？

英语四六级的阅读篇章是具备一定难度的，阅读英文小说的确能够极大地提升阅读能力和词汇量，不过鉴于四六级本身不属于高水平英语考试，考生的英语能力可能没有太高，还是推荐阅读一些词汇相对简单、故事情节较好，能吸引读者阅读兴趣的入门级小说。‘

一、《小王子》——永恒的经典

小王子作为畅销多年的童话读物，本身的内容很浪漫美好，同时用词也简单隽永，能让初读者感受到英语文学的优美，产生对英语阅读的兴趣。这本书讲述了这样一个故事：小王子和一朵骄傲的玫瑰吵架，于是在宇宙间旅行。他吐槽这是一颗冷冰冰的地球，却和一只狐狸建立了友谊，明白了独一无二的意义。这个故事生僻词极少，大部分人都能读懂，非常推荐备考四六级的考生读。

小王子

二、《飞鸟集》——心灵的洗涤

飞鸟集是泰戈尔的代表作，里面收录了非常多简单易读但饱含深意的小诗，大多语句简短，生僻词汇少。同时，很多诗句还富有哲理，能够作为作文写作的引用名言使用，可谓是一举多得。多读诗句，也能洗涤心灵，陶冶情 *** ，快读起来吧！

《飞鸟集》插图

简爱 曲折的爱情 男主很帅 女主也很伟大

弗兰肯斯坦 这个很感人啊 一个怪物从善良到堕落

Wuthering Height 呼啸山庄 爱情悲剧 很坎坷的爱情与报复

这本我都好喜欢的 个人比较喜欢感性的书 我看的都是英文版没看过中文 反正英文版很不错

麦克白 是争夺王位的 莎士比亚写的 还行 有感情有血腥

White Fang 是写一只杂交的狼狗 从坏到好 的人生 很感人的

秘密花园 还不错 也蛮感人

失落的世界 the lost world 是写一个很奇怪的世界 可能男生比较喜欢看

我就看过这些了 希望你喜欢~~

《Runaway》（逃离）跟 《The story of girls and women》 难度适中，作者是爱丽丝门罗，12年诺贝尔文学奖的获得者。加拿大女作家， 作品的情感表达非常真实，有一种洞察人心的感觉。 两本书第一本是短篇小说集，第二本是虽然是长篇小说但是由很多分开的故事组成。

你英语水平怎么样？如果你觉得还不错，那么可以尝试一下底下朋友们说的那些小说，我指的是原文小说。如果你自认为一般，那么我建议你去看书虫的英文书。知道书虫吧？是那个外研社出版的好像，反正，是由专门外国人改写的，那个书虫系列的书上面有些比较适合那个年纪段的同学读，你可以关注一下。

我个人比较建议傲慢与偏见pride and prejudice,理智与情感sense and sensibility，艾玛emma,和曼斯菲尔德庄园（中文似乎是这个名字，我不确定了，自己翻译了一下。。:)) Mansifield park

我尤其推荐pride and prejudice和mansifield park，因为这两本书的**还不错，也顺便可以练练听力口语什么的，当然傲慢与偏见是最好看的，我个人觉得理智与情感和曼斯菲尔德庄园是一个不如一个。。打住，再说下去就要跑题了。。。

我确实不怎么推荐呼啸山庄，不是写的不好，反而是写的真不错，关系真的比较复杂，我初一的时候读了一次，硬是没记住人名字，读到后面几章，就忘了前面谁是谁了，跟我读红楼梦的感觉差不多。。后来高一读的时候情况好一些，但是印象依旧不是很深刻，一直到高三，我才handle住这个恶魔啊。。。。。

总之，书虫的书经过改写会变短，变得简单，应该蛮适合你的。Good Luck!! ¡¡¡Buena Suerte!!!

去书店找“书虫”系列的缩写版名著吧 你可以先了解一下这些名著的大致内容再挑喜欢的看。

第一级：300生词量

适合小学、初一学生

1 爱情与金钱

2 苏格兰玛丽女王

3 在月亮下面

4 藩德尔的巫师

5 歌剧院的幽灵

6．猴爪

7 象人

8．世界上最冷的地方

第二级：600生词量

适合初一学生

1．威廉·莎士比亚

2 一个国王的爱情故事

3 亡灵岛

4 哈克贝利·费恩历险记

5 鲁宾孙漂流记

6 爱丽丝漫游奇境记

跟多的目录。。。~>

The Lovely Bones

by

Alice Sebold

Inside the snow globe on my father's desk, there was a penguin wearing a red and white striped scarf When I was little my father would pull me into his lap and reach for the snow globe He would turn it over, letting all the snow collect on the top, then quickly invert it The two of us watched the snow fall gently around the penguin The penguin was alone in there, I thought, and I worried for him When I told my father this, he said, "Don't worry, Susie; he has a nice life He's trapped in a perfect world"

ONE

My name was Salmon, like the fish; first name, Susie I was fourteen when I was murdered on December 6, 1973 In newspaper photos of missing girls from the seventies, most looked like me: white girls with mousy brown hair This was before kids of all races and genders started appearing on milk cartons or in the daily mail It was still back when people believed things like that didn't happen

In my junior high yearbook I had a quote from a Spanish poet my sister

had turned me on to, Juan Ramon Jimenez It went like this: "If they

give you ruled paper, write the other way" I chose it both because it

expressed my contempt for my structured surroundings a la the classroom

and because, not being some dopey quote from a rock group, I thought it

marked me as literary I was a member of the Chess Club and Chem Club

and burned everything I tried to make in Mrs Delminico's home ec class

My favorite teacher was Mr Botte, who taught biology and liked to

animate the frogs and crawfish we had to dissect by making them dance in

their waxed pans

I wasn't killed by Mr Botte, by the way Don't think every person

you're going to meet in here is suspect That's the problem You never

know Mr Botte came to my memorial (fas), may I add, as did almost the

entire junior high school (I was never so popular) and cried quite a

bit He had a sick kid We all knew this, so when he laughed at his own

jokes, which were rusty way before I had him, we laughed too, forcing it

sometimes just to make him happy His daughter died a year and a half

after I did She had leukemia, but I never saw her in my heaven

My murderer was a man from our neighborhood My mother liked his

border flowers, and my father talked to him once about fertilizer My

murderer believed in old-fashioned things like eggshells and coffee

grounds, which he said his own mother had used My father came home

smiling, making jokes about how the man's garden might be beautiful but

it would stink to high heaven once a heat wave hit

But on December 6, 1973, it was snowing, and I took a shortcut through

the cornfield back from the junior high It was dark out because the

days were shorter in winter, and I remember how the broken cornstalks

made my walk more difficult The snow was falling lightly, like a flurry

of small hands, and I was breathing through my nose until it was running

so much that I had to open my mouth Six feet from where Mr Harvey

stood, I stuck my tongue out to taste a snowflake

"Don't let me startle you," Mr Harvey said

Of course, in a cornfield, in the dark, I was startled After I was

dead I thought about how there had been the light scent of cologne in

the air but that I had not been paying attention, or thought it was

coming from one of the houses up ahead

"Mr Harvey, "I said

"You're the older Salmon girl, right"

"Yes"

"How are your folks"

Although the eldest in my family and good at acing a science quiz, I

had never felt comfortable with adults

"Fine," I said I was cold, but the natural authority of his age, and

the added fact that he was a neighbor and had talked to my father about

fertilizer, rooted me to the spot

"I've built something back here," he said "Would you like to see”

"I'm sort of cold, Mr Harvey," I said, "and my mom likes me

home before dark"

"Its after dark, Susie," he said

I wish now that I had known this was weird I had never told him my

name I guess I thought my father had told him one of the embarrassing

anecdotes he saw merely as loving testaments to his children My father

was the kind of dad who kept a nude photo of you when you were three in

the downstairs bathroom, the one that guests would use He did this to

my little sister, Lindsey, thank God At least I was spared that

indignity But he liked to tell a story about how, once Lindsey was

born, I was so jealous that one day while he was on the phone in the

other room, I moved down the couch - he could see me from where he stood

- and tried to pee on top of Lindsey in her carrier This story

humiliated me every time he told it, to the pastor of our church, to our

neighbor Mrs Stead, who was a therapist and whose take on it he wanted

to hear, and to everyone who ever said "Susie has a lot of spunk!"

"Spunk!" my father would say "Let me tell you about spunk," and he

would launch immediately into his Susie-peed-on-Lindsey story

But as it turned out, my father had not mentioned us to Mr Harvey or

told him the Susie-peed-on-Lindsey story

Mr Harvey would later say these words to my mother when he ran into her

on the street: "I heard about the horrible, horrible tragedy What was

your daughter's name, again"

"Susie," my mother said, bracing up under the weight of it, a weight

that she naively hoped might lighten someday, not knowing that it would

only go on to hurt in new and varied ways for the rest of her life

Mr Harvey told her the usual: "I hope they get the bastard I'm sorry

for your loss"

I was in my heaven by that time, fitting my limbs together, and

couldn't believe his audacity "The man has no shame," I said to Franny,

my intake counselor "Exactly," she said, and made her point as simply

as that There wasn't a lot of bullshit in my heaven

Mr Harvey said it would only take a minute, so I followed him a

little farther into the cornfield, where fewer stalks were broken off

because no one used it as a shortcut to the junior high My mom had told

my baby brother, Buckley, that the corn in the field was inedible when

he asked why no one from the neighborhood ate it "The corn is for

horses, not humans," she said "Not dogs" Buckley asked "No," my

mother answered "Not dinosaurs" Buckley asked And it went like that

"I've made a little hiding place," said Mr Harvey

He stopped and turned to me

"I don't see anything," I said I was aware that Mr Harvey was

looking at me strangely I'd had older men look at me that way since I'd

lost my baby fat, but they usually didn't lose their marbles over me

when I was wearing my royal blue parka and yellow elephant bell-bottoms

His glasses were small and round with gold frames, and his eyes looked

out over them and at me

"You should be more observant, Susie," he said

I felt like observing my way out of there, but I didn't Why didn't I

Franny said these questions were fruitless: "You didn't and that's that

Don't mull it over It does no good You're dead and you have to accept

it"

"Try again," Mr Harvey said, and he squatted down and knocked against

the ground

"What's that” I asked

My ears were freezing I wouldn't wear the multicolored cap with the

pompom and jingle bells that my mother had made me one Christmas I had

shoved it in the pocket of my parka instead

I remember that I went over and stomped on the ground near him It

felt harder even than frozen earth, which was pretty hard

"It's wood," Mr Harvey said "It keeps the entrance from collapsing

Other than that it's all made out of earth"

"What is it" I asked I was no longer cold or weirded out by the look

he had given me I was like I was in science class: I was curious

"Come and see,"

It was awkward to get into, that much he admitted once we were both

inside the hole But I was so amazed by how he had made a chimney that

would draw smoke out if he ever chose to build a fire that the

awkwardness of getting in and out of the hole wasn't even on my mind

You could add to that that escape wasn't a concept I had any real

experience with The worst I'd had to escape was Artie, a strangelooking

kid at school whose father was a mortician He liked to pretend

he was carrying a needle full of embalming fluid around with him On his

notebooks he would draw needles spilling dark drips

"This is neato!" I said to Mr Harvey He could have been the

hunchback of Notre Dame, whom we had read about in French class I

didn't care I completely reverted I was my brother Buckley on our daytrip

to the Museum of Natural History in New York, where he'd fallen in

love with the huge skeletons on display I hadn't used the word neato in

public since elementary school

"Like taking candy from a baby," Franny said

I can still see the hole like it was yesterday, and it was Life is a

perpetual yesterday for us It was the size of a small room, the mud

room in our house, say, where we kept our boots and slickers and where

Mom had managed to fit a washer and dryer, one on top of the other I

could almost stand up in it, but Mr Harvey had to stoop He'd created a

bench along the sides of it by the way he'd dug it out He immediately

sat down

"Look around," he said

I stared at it in amazement, the dug-out shelf above him where he had

placed matches, a row of batteries, and a battery-powered fluorescent

lamp that cast the only light in the room, an eerie light that would

make his features hard to see when he was on top of me

There was a mirror on the shelf, and a razor and shaving cream I

thought that was odd Wouldn't he do that at home But I guess I figured

that a man who had a perfectly good split-level and then built an

underground room only half a mile away had to be kind of loo-loo My

father had a nice way of describing people like him: "The man's a

character, that's all"

So I guess I was thinking that Mr Harvey was a character, and I liked

the room, and it was warm, and I wanted to know how he had built it,

what the mechanics of the thing were and where he'd learned to do

something like that

But by the time the Gilberts' dog found my elbow three days later and

brought it home with a telling corn husk attached to it, Mr Harvey had

closed it up I was in transit during this I didn't get to see him

sweat it out, remove the wood reinforcement, bag any evidence along with

my body parts, except that elbow By the time I popped up with enough

wherewithal to look down at the goings-on on Earth, I was more concerned

with my family than anything else

My mother sat on a hard chair by the front door with her mouth open

Her pale face paler than I had ever seen it Her blue eyes staring My

father was driven into motion He wanted to know details and to comb the

cornfield along with the cops I still thank God for a small detective

named Len Fenerman He assigned two uniforms to take my dad into town

and have him point out all the places I'd hung out with my friends The

uniforms kept my dad busy in one mall for the whole first day No one

had told Lindsey, who was thirteen and would have been old enough, or

Buckley, who was four and would, to be honest, never fully understand

Mr Harvey asked me if I would like a refreshment That was how he put

it I said I had to go home

"Be polite and have a Coke," he said I’m sure the other kids would"

"What other kids"

"I built this for the kids in the neighborhood I thought it could be

some sort of clubhouse"

I don't think I believed this even then I thought he was lying but I

thought it was a pitiful lie I imagined he was lonely We had read

about men like him in health class Men who never married and ate frozen

meals every night and were so afraid of rejection that they didn't even

own pets I felt sorry for him

"Okay," I said, "I'll have a Coke"

In a little while he said, "Aren't you warm, Susie Why don't you take

off your parka,"

I did

After this he said, "You're very pretty, Susie"

"Thanks," I said, even though he gave me what my friend Clarissa and I

had dubbed the skeevies

"Do you have a boyfriend"

"No, Mr Harvey," I said I swallowed the rest of my Coke, which was a

lot, and said, "I got to go, Mr Harvey This is a cool place, but I

have to go"

He stood up and did his hunchback number by the six dug-in steps that

led to the world "I don't know why you think you're leaving"

I talked so that I would not have to take in this knowledge: Mr

Harvey was no character He made me feel skeevy and icky now that he was

blocking the door

"Mr Harvey, I really have to get home"

"Take off your clothes"

"What"

"Take your clothes off," Mr Harvey said "I want to check that you're

still a virgin"

"I am, Mr Harvey," T said

"I want to make sure Your parents will thank me"

"My parents"

"They only want good girls," he said

"Mr Harvey," I said, "please let me leave"

"You aren't leaving, Susie You're mine now"

Fitness was not a big thing back then; aerobics was barely a word

Girls were supposed to be soft, and only the girls we suspected were

butch could climb the ropes at school

I fought hard I fought as hard as I could not to let Mr Harvey hurt

me, but my hard-as-I-could was not hard enough, not even close, and I

was soon lying down on the ground, in the ground, with him on top of me

panting and sweating, having lost his glasses in the struggle

I was so alive then I thought it was the worst thing in the world to

be lying flat on my back with a sweating man on top of me To be trapped

inside the earth and have no one know where I was

I thought of my mother

My mother would be checking the dial of the clock on her oven It was

a new oven and she loved that it had a clock on it "I can time things

to the minute," she told her own mother, a mother who couldn't care less

about ovens

She would be worried, but more angry than worried, at my lateness As my

father pulled into the garage, she would rush about, fixing him a

cocktail, a dry sherry, and put on an exasperated face: "You know junior

high," she would say "Maybe it's Spring Fling" "Abigail," my father

would say, "how can it be Spring Fling when it's snowing" Having failed

with this, my mother might rush Buckley into the room and say, "Play

with your father” while she ducked into the kitchen and took a nip of

sherry for herself

Mr Harvey started to press his lips against mine They were blubbery

and wet and I wanted to scream but I was too afraid and too exhausted

from the fight I had been kissed once by someone I liked His name was

Ray and he was Indian He had an accent and was dark I wasn't supposed

to like him Clarissa called his large eyes, with their half-closed

lids, "freak-a-delic," but he was nice and smart and helped me cheat on

my algebra exam while pretending he hadn't He kissed me by my locker

the day before we turned in our photos for the yearbook When the

yearbook came out at the end of the summer, I saw that under his picture

he had answered the standard "My heart belongs to" with "Susie Salmon"

I guess he had had plans I remember that his lips were chapped

"Don't, Mr Harvey," I managed, and I kept saying that one word a lot

Don't And I said please a lot too Franny told me that almost everyone

begged "please" before dying

"I want you, Susie," he said

"Please," I said "Don't," I said Sometimes I combined them "Please

don't" or "Don't please" It was like insisting that a key works when it

doesn't or yelling "I've got it, I've got it, I've got it" as a softball

goes sailing over you into the stands

"Please don't"

But he grew tired of hearing me plead He reached into the pocket of

my parka and balled up the hat my mother had made me, smashing it into

my mouth The only sound I made after that was the weak tinkling of

bells

As he kissed his wet lips down my face and neck and then began to

shove his hands up under my shirt, I wept I began to leave my body; I

began to inhabit the air and the silence I wept and struggled so I

would not feel He ripped open my pants, not having found the invisible

zipper my mother had artfully sewn into their side

"Big white panties," he said

I felt huge and bloated I felt like a sea in which he stood and

pissed and shat I felt the corners of my body were turning in on

themselves and out, like in cats cradle, which I played with Lindsey

just to make her happy He started working himself over me

"Susie! Susie!" I heard my mother calling "Dinner is ready"

He was inside me He was grunting

"We're having string beans and lamb"

I was the mortar, he was the pestle

"Your brother has a new finger painting, and I made apple crumb cake"

"Why don't you get up" Mr Harvey said as he rolled to the side and

then crouched over me,

His voice was gentle, encouraging, a lover's voice on a late morning

A suggestion, not a command

I could not move I could not get up

When I would not - was it only that, only that I would not follow his

suggestion-he leaned to the side and felt, over his head, across the

ledge where his razor and shaving cream sat He brought back a knife

Unsheathed, it smiled at me, curving up in a grin

He took the hat from my mouth

"Tell me you love me," he said

Gently, I did

The end came anyway

Mr Harvey made me lie still underneath him and listen to the beating of

his heart and the beating of mine How mine skipped like a rabbit, and

how his thudded, a hammer against cloth We lay there with our bodies

touching, and, as I shook, a powerful knowledge took hold He had done

this thing to me and I had lived That was all I was still breathing I

heard his heart I smelled his breath The dark earth surrounding us

smelled like what it was, moist dirt where worms and animals lived their

daily lives I could have yelled for hours

I knew he was going to kill me I did not realize then that I was an

animal already dying

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**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**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**。

《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。

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Oliver Twist《雾都孤儿》、Pride and Prejudice《傲慢与偏见》这两本小说都是非常适合高中生阅读的。这两本书他们的写作方式能够有一定的见解，对于你学习英语有一定的帮助。而且他也能够帮助你更好的去了解英国的一些文化，对于你在人生上的一些认知也有一定的帮助。

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