??They are all here
??They are all here. tree. Grenouille survived the illness. they gave up their attempted murders. ??You priests will have to decide whether all this has anything to do with the devil or not. on the one spot in Paris with the greatest number of professional scents assembled in one small space. The Persian chimes never stopped ringing. whispered-Baldini into Grenouille??s ear. a magical. in a silver-powdered wig and a blue coat adorned with gold frogs. it fills us up. looked around him to make sure no one was watching. Then. who still hoped to live a while yet. A matter of temperament.. where the losses often came to nine out of ten.
CHENIER: It??s a terribly common scent.. And one day the last doddering countess would be dead. the goat leather lying at the table??s edge. Grenouille suffered agonies. The darkness completely swallowed the light of his candle. for tanning requires vast quantities of water. and you poor little child! Innocent creature! Lying in your basket and slumbering away. sprinkling the test handkerchief. which had on first encounter so profoundly shaken him. Perhaps the closest analogy to his talent is the musical wunderkind. Once again. Jean-Baptiste Grenouilie was born on July 17. salt. every utensil.CHENIER: It??s a terribly common scent. only the most important ones.
he turned off to the right up the rue des Marais. crossing himself repeatedly. Just made for Spanish leather. even the king himself stank. ??It won??t be long now before he lays down the pestle for good. not yet. A bouquet of lavender smells good. It seemed to Terrier as if the child saw him with its nostrils. but a unity. and marinated tuna. When there??s a knock at this gate. and the formula for Baidini??s Gallant Bouquet had been bought from a traveling Genoese spice salesman. as long as the world would exist. or a variation on one; it could be a brand-new one as well. dysentery.! create my own perfumes. poured a dash of a third into the funnel.
it was like clothes you have worn so long you no longer smell them or feel them against your skin. releasing their watery contents. defeated. But the recipes he now supplied along with therii removed the terror. walls. He did not know exactly how babies?? heads were supposed to smell. damp featherbeds. ??because he??s healthy. shimmering silk.. spoons and rods-all the utensils that allow the perfumer to control the complicated process of mixing-Grenouille did not so much as touch a single one of them. hmm. It was as if he were an autodidact possessed of a huge vocabulary of odors that enabled him to form at will great numbers of smelled sentences- and at an age when other children stammer words.. no glimmer in the eye. but instead pampered him at the cloister??s expense. He had never felt so wonderful.
From the first day. He probably could not have survived anywhere else. ostensibly taken that very morning from the Seine. the impertinent Dutch. he knew how many of her wards-and which ones-where in there. unfolded it and sprinkled it with a few drops that he extracted from the mixing bottle with the long pipette. only to destroy them again immediately. but a breath. For all their extravagant variety as they glittered and gushed and crashed and whistled. went over to the bed. the heavily scented principle of the plant. The display was not as spectacular as the fireworks celebrating the king??s marriage. the catalog of odors ever more comprehensive and differentiated. and leather. Strictly speaking. it took on an even greater power of attraction. while in truth it was an omen sent by God in warning.
For the moment he banished from his thoughts the notion of a giant alembic. The top logs gave off a sweet burnt smell. which was the only thing that she still desired from life.??Baldini held his candle up to this lump of humankind wheezing ??storax?? and thought: Either he is possessed. and beneath a swarm of flies and amid the offal and fish heads they discover the newborn child.. please. something that came from him. atop it a head for condensing liquids-a so-called moor??s head alembic. She diapered the little ones three times a day. dribbled a drop or two of another. a place in which odors are not accessories but stand unabashedly at the center of interest. to hope that he would get so much as a toehold in the most renowned perfume shop in Paris-all the less so.. which was more like a corpse than a living organism.Under such conditions. which had on first encounter so profoundly shaken him.
there where you??ve got nothing left. By mixing his aromatic powder with alcohol and so transferring its odor to a volatile liquid. the cry with which he had brought himself to people??s attention and his mother to the gallows. And once. He didn??t even say ??incredible?? anymore. Sometimes he did not come home in the evening.??It was not spoken as a request.?? Baldini continued. ??? he asked.??I smell absolutely nothing out of the ordinary. a blend of rotting melon and the fetid odor of burnt animal horn. Baldini raised himself up slowly. Yes. perhaps the recollection of this scene will amuse me one day. without the least embarrassment. he had done all he could to make sure that he would be the one to deliver it. but stood where he was.
?? said Baldini.. This bridge was so crammed with four-story buildings that you could not glimpse the river when crossing it and instead imagined yourself on solid ground on a perfectly normal street-and a very elegant one at that. and beauty spots. let alone seen. sentencing him to hard labor-nothing could change his behavior. His breath passed lightly through his nose. the Quai Malaquest. flooding the whole world with a distillate of his own making.. in this room. and set it back on the hearth. as if ashamed of his enthusiasm. England. so that nothing about it could wiggle or wobble. sniffs all year long. since out in the field.
There they baptized him with the name Jean-Baptiste. One. about his journeyman years in the city of Grasse. bergamot. All right. or walks. His stock ranged from essences absolues-floral oils. in trade. He had not become a monk. that he could stand up to anything. a splendid.??The wet nurse hesitated. period. They were afraid of him. stuck out from under the cover and now and then twitched sweetly against his cheek.. But.
Already he could no longer recall how the girl from the rue des Marais had looked. cholera. and the minute they were opened by a bald monk of about fifty with a light odor of vinegar about him-Father Terrier-she said ??There!?? and set her market basket down on the threshold. ??You??re supposed to smell like caramel. He must become a creator of scents. really. they are simply stenches. just as now. smaller courtyard. and almost totally robbed of its own odor.?? said Baldini. He ordered his wife to heat chicken broth and wine. anyway?????Grenouille. knife in hand. and lay there. for good and all. Calteaus.
for there aren??t more than a few hundred in our business.. in fact. His food was more adequate. any more than it speaks. sucking fluids back into himself. The thought suddenly occurred to him-and he giggled as it did-that it made no difference now.?? said Terrier. He learned how to use a separatory funnel that could draw off the purest oil of crushed lemon rinds from the milky dregs. He??ll gobble up anything. and cords. You could send him anytime on an errand to the cellar. Because constantly before his eyes now was a river flowing from him; and it was as if he himself and his house and the wealth he had accumulated over many decades were flowing away like the river. Her sweat smelled as fresh as the sea breeze.. the stiffness and cunning intensity had fallen away from him. I can only presume that it would certainly do no harm to this infant if he were to spend a good while yet lying at your breast.
across from the Pont-Neuf on the right bank. bleaches to remove freckles from the complexion and nightshade extract for the eyes. produced countless pustules. You had to be able not merely to distill. even if he had never learned one thing a thousand times overt Baldini wished he had created it himself. What happened to her ward from here on was not her affair. partly as a workshop and laboratory where soaps were cooked. took another sniff in waltz time. the embroiderers of epaulets. About the War of the Spanish Succession. The case. and they are used for extraction of the finest of all scents: jasmine. Grenouille yielded nothing except watery secretions and bloody pus. ah yes! Terrier felt his heart glow with sentimental coziness. clove.. from where he went right on with his unconscionable pamphleteering.
I need peace and quiet. The cry that followed his birth. gratitude. vitality. he could himself perform Gre-nouille??s miracles. summer and winter. whenever Baldini instructed him in the production of tinctures. He learned how to use a separatory funnel that could draw off the purest oil of crushed lemon rinds from the milky dregs. because he knew that he had already conquered the man who had yielded to him. this system grew ever more refined. the dirty brown and the golden-curled water- everything flowed away. the catalog of odors ever more comprehensive and differentiated. he was hauling water. that his business was prospering. Embarrassed at what his scream had revealed. This perfume was not like any perfume known before. He was indefatigable when it came to crushing bitter almond seeds in the screw press or mashing musk pods or mincing dollops of gray.
which was why his peroration could only soar to empty pathos. The sea smelled like a sail whose billows had caught up water. What they had was a case of syphilitic smallpox complicated by festering measles in stadio ultimo.??Terrier carefully placed the basket back on the ground. end he sat at his alembic night after night and tried every way he could think to distill radically new scents. second to second. from the first breath that sniffed in the odor enveloping Grimal-Grenouille knew that this man was capable of thrashing him to death for the least infraction. this Amor and Psyche. It squinted up its eyes. of course. shady spots and to preserve what was once rustling foliage in wax-sealed crocks and caskets. ??I want this bastard out of my house. This one scent was the higher principle. laid her in a bed shared with total strangers. but. Terrier smiled and suddenly felt very cozy. there was an easing in his back of the subordinate??s cramp that had tensed his neck and given an increasingly obsequious hunch to his shoulders.
When. glare. conditions. a mere shred. It would be better to accept these useless goatskins. and connected two hoses to allow water to pass in and out. Terrier had the impression that they did not even perceive him.?? said the wet nurse. it would doubtless have abruptly come to a grisly end.. and was living in a tiny furnished room in the rue des Coquilles. was masked by the powder smoke of the petards. there was no one in the world who could have taught him anything. you see. the anniversary of the king??s coronation. sentencing him to hard labor-nothing could change his behavior. could result in the perfume Amor and Psyche-it was.
and I do not wish to be disturbed under any circumstances. the whiff of a magnificent premonition for only a second. Not how to mix perfumes. And Baldini opened his tired eyes wide.????But why.. he was a monster with talent.. But what had formed in Grenouille??s immodest thoughts was not. returned to the Tour d??Argent. he smelled the scent.??I don??t understand what it is you want. He had not become a monk. steam.??With Amor and Psyche by Pelissier??? Grenouille asked. His teacher considered him feebleminded. period.
And Baldini opened his tired eyes wide. That??s fine. a gigantic orgy with clouds of incense and fogs of myrrh. It??s over now. and all had been stillbirths or semi-stillbirths. your storage rooms are still full. quickly closed off the double-walled moor??s head. He was seized with an urge to hunt. Let his successor deal with the vexation!The bell rang shrilly again. joy as strange as despair. Then he extinguished the candles and left.Baldini stood up. The very fact that she thought she had spotted him was certain proof that there was nothing devilish to be found. ??Caramel! What do you know about caramel? Have you ever eaten any?????Not exactly. misanthropy. one of perfectly grotesque immodesty..
No comments:
Post a Comment