A gaze that sees through the irony of life
The Aesthetics of O. Henry's Short Stories

『O. Henry Short Stories』, a collection of representative short stories by O. Henry, known as the "magician of short stories," touches the hearts of readers with stories that simultaneously contain the irony of life and warm emotions.
This book, which includes timeless masterpieces such as "The Last Leaf," "The Gift of Christmas," and "The Policeman and the Hymn," as well as lesser-known gems, showcases the author's keen insight into human life and delightful imagination at a glance.

The stories that unfold in the back alleys of New York, the attic of a poor artist, and the workplaces of ordinary citizens may seem trivial on the surface, but the emotions and twists contained within leave a surprising depth and lingering impression.
O. Henry's signature witty sentences and emotional reversals transcend the limitations of the short story format and deliver a profound impact.

His gaze, which finds dignity in ordinary people and captures the truth of life in ordinary moments, transcends time and evokes empathy.
This collection of short stories tells us, above all, how a small kindness or an unexpected choice can mean so much.
O. Henry never paints an ideal world.
However, it shows how beautiful choices humans can make even in a cruel reality.

"O. Henry's Short Stories" proves that even in the midst of our fast-paced daily lives, a short story can make us pause and reflect on our lives, and that the aftertaste of that brief moment lingers for a long time.
This book quietly but clearly states that emotion begins not with a grand narrative, but with a warm gaze toward humanity.

“It’s the last leaf,” said Johnsy.
“I thought it would definitely fall at night….
I heard the wind.
“Today that leaf will fall, and then I will die.”
“Please, Johnsy,” Sue said, resting her tired face on the pillow.
“If you can’t think of yourself, at least think of me.
What do you want me to do?
But Johnsy didn't answer.
The loneliest being in this world is the soul preparing to embark on a journey to a mysterious and distant place.
As the ties that bound Sue's heart to friendship and the world gradually loosened, fantasy seemed to take hold of her more strongly.
--- p.32

On the corner was a pharmacy, brightly lit with electric lights.
The two people turned their heads at the same time and looked at each other's faces.
The man from the West suddenly stopped walking and let go of the other man's arm.

“You’re not Jimmy Wells,” he shouted sharply.
“Twenty years is a long time, but it’s not enough to change a beak nose into a saddle nose.”
“Sometimes, time turns good people into bad people,” said the tall man.
“You were arrested ten minutes ago.”
--- p.64

Now Agatha's mother was pounding on the safe door with both hands like a madwoman.
Some people even made the outrageous suggestion of using dynamite.
Annabel looked back at Jimmy.
Her large eyes were filled with anguish, but not despair.
A woman tends to think that nothing is impossible for the man she loves.
--- p.76

Old Anthony said cheerfully.
“I’m glad it’s not a matter of mood.
But don't forget to go to the temple of the Golden God every now and then and burn some incense.
I said you can't buy time with money, right? Of course, you can't ask for eternity to be packaged up and delivered to your doorstep.
But I have seen the god of time pass by a gold mine and hit a rock and bruise his heel.”
--- p.82

There is a difference between the sadness of a young person and the sadness of an old person.
The sorrow of a young person is lightened by the amount of time it is shared with others, but the sorrow of an old person remains the same no matter how much it is shared.
--- p.135

“Then strange things started happening.
Every time I finished a painting, people would come to look at it and look at each other with annoyance and whisper to each other.
I soon realized what the problem was.
When I paint a portrait, the model's hidden side is revealed.
I don't know how it happened either.
I just drew it as I saw it.
Some of the people who had entrusted me with their paintings got angry and didn't even bother to pick them up.
I once painted a portrait of a beautiful woman who was popular in high society.
When the painting was finished, her husband looked at it with a strange expression and filed for divorce the following week.”

--- p.155