Naomi／痴人之爱

男人收养了15岁的少女，把她塑造成自己理想情人的样子。少女叫Naomi。
和她的名字一模一样。
Naomi靠在她孤儿院小房间的墙上，手里拿着谷崎润一郎的小说Naomi，她最喜欢的书。第二天是她15岁的生日，孤儿院的修女说会有一个男人来接她，她会有一个家了。
在Naomi十五年的人生中，她曾无数次幻想有叫爸爸妈妈的人在身边是怎样的感觉。当她从修女那儿得知自己的养父是个早年丧妻，独自带着一个比她小一两岁的儿子的中年男人时，略微地有一些失望。终于逃离了一种不完整的生活，可是却走入了另一种不完整的生活。
第二天，她带着她几乎是空空荡荡的小行李箱，和那本她最喜欢的小说，坐上了养父的车。他是一个长相普通，带着些许忧郁的人，他们一路都没有怎么说话。“你以后可以叫我爸爸，如果不习惯的话也不用勉强。”修女说他只看了她的照片就决定收养她。
车七弯八拐地开进了一个半山的住宅区。男人和他的儿子住在一栋两层的并不太起眼的房子里。即使是这样，对于习惯了孤儿院里逼仄潮湿不见光的小房间的Naomi，这一时刻如同过节一样。他的儿子长得和他如出一辙，只不过是年轻了二十多年。他礼貌地和这个没有血缘关系的姐姐打了招呼，Naomi从他的眼睛里看到了好奇和友善的好感。她的养父站在起居室里，看了看她从五年前生日就开始穿的碎花裙，进房间拿了一件猩红色的裙子给她。裙子上还残留着香水味，她一直不明白原因，后来才知道，给房间中那个衣柜里所有的裙子喷上熟悉味道的香水，是他每天不变的习惯。
他让她住在与他相邻的房间，每天早上帮她准备好衣服，戒指，耳环，项链，手镯。他不让她去学校，请老师来家里辅导她钢琴，声乐，英文和舞蹈。起居室里蒙灰的钢琴被擦亮，束之高阁的小说被重新取了出来。
一起外出时，男人的熟人常常误以为她是他新娶的妻子。他们用一种Naomi不理解的惊奇的眼光打量着她。这个家完整了。一个爸爸，一个妈妈，一个孩子。
养父的儿子爱着她，像爱妈妈一样爱着，像爱姐姐一样爱着，又像爱恋人一样爱着。但他知道她属于他父亲。他刻意地和她保持距离。
二十一岁生日那天，她的养父对她说：”我爱你，我们结婚吧。“
新婚之夜，她第一次被允许进他的房间。月光下，他叫她一个Naomi未曾听过的名字。她看到床边半敞开的衣柜里所有她穿过的裙子，她意识到虽然从未听过，但是那个人却一直和他们生活在一起，从她踏入这个家的那一刻起。她忽然想起来男孩曾对她说：”我在你身上看到了死去妈妈的鬼魂。“
男人收养了15岁的少女，把她塑造成自己的理想情人。少女长大后变成了美丽而放荡的女人。男人臣服于她，甘愿做她的奴隶。
男人收养了15岁的少女，把她抚养成了自己心心念念的亡妻的模样。女权主义的胜利旺盛地活在虚构的书里。

Naomi/A Fool’s Love

A man adopted a 15-year-old girl and shaped her to become his ideal lover. The girl’s name was Naomi.
Exactly the same as hers.
Naomi leaned against the wall in her small room in the orphanage. She held Junichiro Tanizaki’s novel Naomi – her favorite book, in her hand. The next day was her 15-year-old birthday. The Sister said there would be a man coming and she would have a home.
In Naomi’s 15-year life, she had fantasized for many times what it would feel like if she could have a mom and a dad. She was a bit disappointed when she learned that her adoptive father was a widower, with a son who was one year or two younger than her. She thought she was going to end an incomplete life, and yet she was just entering another incomplete one.
The next day, she got on her adoptive father’s car, with her small suitcase that was almost empty, and that favorite book of hers. He was a melancholy, plain-looking man. They didn’t talk much during the trip to her new home. “You can call me dad, but you don’t have to if you don’t want to.” The Sister said he decided to adopt her when he saw her picture.
The car drove into a residential area in a hill. The man and her son lived in a two story house that didn’t draw too much attention. Even though, for Naomi, who had been used to her cramped, wet, little room in the orphanage, she felt like celebrating a festival. His son looked very much like him, just more than twenty years younger. He politely said hello to his new sister who didn’t have blood relation with him. Naomi saw in his eyes curiosity and friendliness. Her adoptive father stood in the living room, looking at her floral dress, which she’d been wearing since her birthday five years ago. He went to his bedroom and came back with a scarlet dress. Naomi smelled the scent of women’s perfume. Not until many years later she knew it was his daily routine to spray his familiar perfume on all the clothes in that big locked closet in his room.
The man let Naomi live in the room next to his. Every morning, he prepared clothes, rings, necklace, bracelets and earrings for her. He didn’t let her go to school, but hired teachers at home to teach her piano, singing, English and dancing. The piano in the living room, which had been covered in dust, was wiped clean. The novels that had been shelved for a long time were being read again.
When they went out together, the man’s friends always thought Naomi was his new wife. They looked her up and down surprisingly, which Naomi didn’t understand. This family was complete. A father, a mother, and a son.
The son loved her. He loved her like loving a mother, a sister, and a lover, but he knew she belonged to his father. He kept distance with her on purpose.
On Naomi’s 21-year-old birthday, her adoptive father said to her: “I love you. Let’s get married.”
On their wedding night, she was allowed to enter his room for the first time. Under the moonlight, he called her a name she had never heard before. She saw all the dresses she had been wearing in a half-open closet beside their bed, and she realized even though she’d never heard that name, that person had been always living with them, since the moment she stepped inside this house. She suddenly remembered the boy once said to her: “I saw my mom’s ghost in you.”
A man adopted a 15-year-old girl and shaped her to become his ideal lover. When the girl grew up, she became beautiful and unrestrained. The man submitted to her and was willing to be her slave.
A man adopted a 15-year-old girl and raised her to become his dead wife who he could never forget. The victory of feminism lived vigorously in fictions.