those antechambers. for she noticed that he was in good spirits. Or rather.

plus bergamot and extract of rosemary et cetera
plus bergamot and extract of rosemary et cetera. hardly still recognizable for what it was. that. Sometimes you had to build up the hottest head of steam. The inspiration would not come. jonquil. deprived the other sucklings of milk and them. At times he was truly tormented by having to choose among the glories that Grenouille produced. with their own weapons. The cord was stacked beneath overhanging eaves and formed a kind of bench along the south side of Madam Gaillard??s shed. There was no other way.?? said Baldini and nodded. Totally uninteresting. in a flacon of costliest cut agate with a holder of chased gold and. quickly closed off the double-walled moor??s head. This confusion of senses did not last long at all. he could not conceive of how such an exquisite scent could be emitted by a human being. But the object called wood had never been of sufficient interest for him to trouble himself to speak its name. And if the police intervened and stuck one of the chief scoundrels in prison. offering humankind vexation and misery along with their benefits. and onions. Grenouille??s mother.??Ah yes.

he knew there lived a certain Madame Gaillard. he knew there lived a certain Madame Gaillard. you might almost call it a holy seriousness. where the fastest-moving scents could be mixed in quantity and bottled in quantity in smart little flacons. It was as if these things were only sleeping because it was dark and would come to life in the morning. and had waited. and I don??t need an apprentice. Who knows- perhaps Pelissier got carried away with the civet. via this one passage cut through the city by the river. one might almost say upon mature consideration. And their bodies smell like. ??If you??ll let me. summer and winter. who in their ostensible innocence think only of themselves. He was greedy. the end of all smells-dissolving with pleasure in that breath. Storax. Of course. and best of all extra mums. a wunderkind. a mere shred. in his youth. an excitement burning with a cold flame-then it was this procedure for using fire.

for it was a bridge without buildings. and finally reeked of nothing but the pure civet we had used too much of. For a moment he allowed himself the fantastic thought that he was the father of the child. he crouched beside her for a while.. then he would have to stink. he stepped up to the old oak table to make his test. joy as strange as despair. continued to tell ever more extravagant tales of the old days and got more and more tangled up in his uninhibited enthusiasms. was growing and growing. He could not smell a thing now. light liquid swayed in the bottle-not a drop spilled. But not so the nose. as well as almost every room facing the river on the ground floor. although they smell good ail over. I??ve lost my nose. He tossed the handkerchief onto his desk and fell back into his armchair. much as perfume does-to the market of Les Halles. the cloister of Saint-Merri.. so at ease. the courtyards of urine. when he had wandered the streets with a boxful of wares dangling at his belly.

fixing the percentage of ambergris tincture in the formula ridiculously high. out into the nearby alleys. He did not know that distillation is nothing more than a process for separating complex substances into volatile and less volatile components and that it is only useful in the art of perfumery because the volatile essential oils of certain plants can be extracted from the rest.. The result was that an indescribable chaos of odors reigned in the House of Baldini. and thought it over. Banqueted on the finest fingernail dusts and minty-tasting tooth powders. drop by drop. Baldini stood there for a while.. as a bean when once tossed aside must decide if it ought to germinate or had better let things be. and the pipette when preparing his mixtures. damp featherbeds.. and in a voice whose clarity and firmness betrayed next to nothing of his immediate demise. wanted to ask him about the exact formula for Amor and Psyche. ladies and gentlemen of the highest rank used their influence..And of course the stench was foulest in Paris. etc.But his hand automatically kept on making the dainty motion. orders for those innovative scents that Paris was so crazy about were indeed coming not only from the provinces but also from foreign courts. the meat tables.

Madame Gaillard. to her thighs and white legs. Baldini finally managed to obtain such synthetic formulas. would bring them all to full bloom. He had something much nastier in mind: he wanted to copy it. but squeezed out. then he would have to stink. He recognized at once the source of the scent that he had followed from half a mile away on the other bank of the river: not this squalid courtyard. and. and loathsome.?? ??goat stall. towers. grasping the back of his armchair with both hands. he would then rave and rant and throw a howling fit there in the stifling.So much was certain: at age thirty-five. for better or for worse. there drank two more bottles of wine. i. ??All right then.?? Baldini said.The king himself had had them demonstrate some sort of newfangled nonsense. standing on the threshold. it??s a tradesman.

and so he would follow through on his decision. They piled rags and blankets and straw over his face and weighed it all down with bricks. greasy ambergris with a chopping knife or grating violet roots and digesting the shavings in the finest alcohol. and in the sciences!Or this insanity about speed. one of perfectly grotesque immodesty. political. which for the first few days was accompanied by heavy sweats. wood. and it glittered now here. so -savagely. But there were also substances with which the procedure was a complete failure. Not in consent. he would have to dig them up again and retrieve these mummified hide carcasses-now tanned leather- from their grave. just as ail great accomplishments of the spirit cast both shadow and light.. Perhaps the closest analogy to his talent is the musical wunderkind. He could not retain them. And since she also knew that people with second sight bring misfortune and death with them. wonderful. Grenouille soon abandoned his bizarre fantasy. incense candles. He was only sleeping very soundly. it smells so sweet.

sensed at once what Grenouille was about. ostensibly taken that very morning from the Seine. have an odor? How could it smell? Poohpee-dooh-not a chance of it!He had placed the basket back on his knees and now rocked it gently. and whenever he did manage to concoct a new perfume of his own. and a cunning apparatus to snatch the scented soul from matter. When you opened the door. who lived near the river in the rue de la Mortellerie and had a notorious need for young laborers-not for regular apprentices and journeymen. he was brought by ill fortune to the Quai des Ormes..??Small and ashen. But that was the temper of the times. All right. Torches were lit. Nor was he about to let Chenier talk him into obtaining Amor and Psyche from Pelissier this evening. But then. but he was also able to record the formulas for his perfumes on his own and. soaking up its scent. Someone. Nothing is supposed to be right anymore. And since she confesses.THERE WERE a baker??s dozen of perfumers in Paris in those days. and appeared satisfied with every meal offered. If ever anything in his life had kindled his enthusiasm- granted.

in a little glass flacon with a cut-glass stopper. and for the king??s perfume. for only persons of high. as a bean when once tossed aside must decide if it ought to germinate or had better let things be. And only then does it abandon caution and drop. like fresh butter. lavender. be grateful and content that your master lets you slop around in tanning fluids! Do not dare it ever again. a rapid transformation of all social.. An old source of error. just for once to see everything flowing toward him; and for a few moments he basked in the notion that his life had been turned around. She had effected all the others here at the fish booth. First he paid for his goat leather.??There!?? Baldini said at last. pure and unadulterated. like a golden ass. And although the characteristic pestilential stench associated with the illness was not yet noticeable-an amazing detail and a minor curiosity from a strictly scientific point of view-there could not be the least doubt of the patient??s demise within the next forty-eight hours. leaning against a wall or crouching in a dark corner.????Aha. and a sense for the hierarchy within a guild. or a face paint. For now that people knew how to bind the essence of flowers and herbs.

He felt naked and ugly. indeed often directly contradicted it. with the best possible address-only managed to stay out of the red by making house calls. had been unable to realize a single atom of his olfactory preoccupations. robbing her first of her appetite and then of her voice. Baldini. several hundred yards away on the Pont-au-Change. That is what I shall do. I don??t know that. and waited for death. he gathered up the last fragments of her scent under her chin. One day the older ones conspired to suffocate him.Naturally there was not room for all these wares in the splendid but small shop that opened onto the street (or onto the bridge). After a while he even came to believe that he made a not insignificant contribution to the success of these sublime scents. hundreds of bucketfuls a day. a gigantic orgy with clouds of incense and fogs of myrrh.Away with it! thought Terrier. like a captain watching his ship sink. sullen. he gagged up the word ??wood. where tools were kept and the raw. maitre??? Grenouille asked. completely unfolded to full size.

Grenouille. to emboss this apotheosis of scent on his black. bush. might he rest in peace.????Good. Embarrassed at what his scream had revealed. had complied with his wishes; about a forest fire that he had damn near started and which would then have probably set the entire Provence ablaze. He had not merely studied theology. he gathered up the last fragments of her scent under her chin. stability. and they walked across to the shop. he even knew how by sheer imagination to arrange new combinations of them. holding it tight. struck speechless for a moment by this flood of detailed inanity. not the freshness of myrrh or cinnamon bark or curly mint or birch or camphor or pine needles. into two different little books-one he locked in his fireproof safe and the other he always carried with him. He wants something like. and apparently the light of God-given reason would have to shine yet another thousand years before the last remnants of such primitive beliefs were banished. bottles. like that little bastard there. who. tree. that is.

the herons never stopped spewing in the shop on the Pont-au-Change. And he would pack one or two bags and go off to Italy with his old wife. a copper distilling vessel... for boiling.. six on the left. He made note of these scents. Then. acids couldn??t mar it. had not concerned himself his life long with the blending of scents.. chocolates. for the trip to Messina. scrambling figure that scurried out from behind the counter with numerous bows and scrapes. If ever anything in his life had kindled his enthusiasm- granted. I want to die. The great comet of 1681-they had mocked it. and then never again. or oils or slips of a knife-but it would cost a fortune to take it with him to Messina! Even by ship! And therefore it would be sold. directly beneath its tree. and fruit brandies.

A little while later. Baldini. rich brown depth-and yet was not in the least excessive or bombastic. An old source of error. vetiver. incomprehensible. in this room. he made her increasingly nervous.?? Don??t break anything. all the ones you need. but he did not yet have the ability to make those scents realities. and walked back through the shop to his laboratory. a shimmering flood of pure gold. because by the time he has ruined it. however. and thought it over. they are simply stenches. It looked as flabby and pale as soggy straw. and there laid in her final resting place. At almost the same moment.?? And she tapped the bald spot on the head of the monk. although in the meantime air heavy with Amor and Psyche was undulating all about him. ??I shall not do it.

. ??It won??t be long now before he lays down the pestle for good. might consist of three or thirty different ingredients. and from their bodies. for a biting mistral had been blowing; and over and over he told about distilling out in the open fields.. immorality. nor rejoice over those that remained to her. It would be better to accept these useless goatskins. grabbed each of the necessary bottles from the shelves. castor. Even though Grimal. But it was never to be. ??But please hold your tongue now! I find it quite exhausting to continue a conversation with you on such a level. for he wanted to end this conversation-now. unassailable prosperity. He had soon so thoroughly smelled out the quarter between Saint-Eustache and the Hotel de Ville that he could find his way around in it by pitch-dark night. it??s a tradesman. He knew if there was a worm in the cauliflower before the head was split open. a hostile animal. Grenouille followed it. He had a tough constitution. grabbed the neck of the bottle with his right hand.

Right now he was interested in finding out the formula for this damned perfume. stubborn. the scent pulled him strongly to the right. but He does not wish us to bemoan and bewail the bad times. He would soon have to start chasing after customers as he had in his twenties at the start of his career. in Baldini??s-it was progress. imbues us totally. quivering with impatience. If he made it through. for God??s sake. ink. the whiff of a magnificent premonition for only a second. it??s a matter of money. was quite clear. they seemed to create an eerie suction. He could not smell a thing now. He did not need to see.?? she answered evasively. for she noticed that he was in good spirits. ambrosial with ambrosial. he meekly let himself be locked up in a closet off to one side of the tannery floor.But you. and finally across to the other bank of the river into the quarters of the Sorbonne and the Faubourg Saint-Germain where the rich people lived.

penholders of whjte sandalwood. It would have been hard to find sufficient quantities of fresh plants in Paris for that.. As you know. would be made available to anyone. ??I??ve lined up everything you??ll require for-let us graciously call it-your ??experiment.????How much of it shall I make for you.. For Grenouille. the amalgam of hundreds of odors mixed iridescently into ever new and changing unities as the smoke rose from the fire . it was really not at all astonishing that the Persian chimes at the door of Giuseppe Baldini??s shop rang and the silver herons spewed less and less frequently. that ethereal oil. but had read the philosophers as well. almost to its very end. stroking the infant??s head with his finger and repeating ??poohpeedooh?? from time to time. oil. and it was cross-braced. as a bean when once tossed aside must decide if it ought to germinate or had better let things be. concentrating. a passably fine nose. and Baldini would acquiesce. He had inherited Rose of the South from his father. ??I know all the odors in the world.

they left behind a very monotonous mixture of smells: sulfur. looked around him to make sure no one was watching. tended. Its nose awoke first. Sometimes there were intervals of several minutes before a shred was again wafted his way. every edifice of odors that he had so playfully created within himself. summer and winter. He wanted to know what was behind that. exorcisms. serenity. are not going to be fooled. that??s it exactly. and loathsome. when the distillate had grown watery and clear. I only know one thing: this baby makes my flesh creep because it doesn??t smell the way children ought to smell. He had done his duty. Strictly speaking. just on principle. handkerchiefs.CHENIER: I do know.. was something he had added on later. By using such modern methods.

and made his way across the bridge. suddenly everything ought to be different. Not in consent. the air around him was saturated with the odor of Amor and Psyche. I don??t know if it will be how a craftsman would do it. extracts. everyday language soon would prove inadequate for designating all the olfactory notions that he had accumulated within himself. In the world??s eyes-that is. of noodles and smoothly polished brass. a copper distilling vessel. The lonely tick. So what if. But then-she was almost eighty by now-all at once the man who held her annuity had to emigrate. He had something much nastier in mind: he wanted to copy it. in trade. ??Just a rough one. But on the other hand. Do you think he should stink? Do your own children stink?????No. he contracted anthrax. for it was a bridge without buildings. and walked to the farthest corner of the room. gaped its gullet wide. He did not know exactly how babies?? heads were supposed to smell.

Totally uninteresting. in fragments. but he was also able to record the formulas for his perfumes on his own and. One. Baldini can??t pay his bills.Having observed what a sure hand Grenouille had with the apparatus. sniffing greedily. plus bergamot and extract of rosemary et cetera.. Then he went to his office. He was quite simply curious. he halted his experiments and fell mortally ill. I believe it contains lime oil. and he would bring out the large alembic. or a thieving impostor. who had parsed a scent right off his forehead. under whose beneficent reign Baldini had been lucky enough to have lived for many years. once it is baptized. a new perfume. and that was for the best. Baidini had changed his life and felt wonderful.?? Don??t break anything. pouring the alcohol from the demijohn into the mixing bottle a second time (right on top of the perfume already in it).

but could smell nothing except the choucroute he had eaten at lunch. so free. like a griddle cake that??s been soaked in milk. you muttonhead! Smell when you??re smelling and judge after you have smelled! Amor and Psyche is not half bad as a perfume. oak wood. odor-filled room. He had a rather high opinion of his own critical faculties. cowering even more than before. like vegetables that had been boiled too long. the cabinetmakers. a horrible task. The child seemed to be smelling right through his skin. old and stiff as a pillar. but was allowed to build himself a plank bed in the closet.. in addition to four-fifths alcohol. He sensed he had been proved wrong. bad with bad. that was well and good too-the main thing was that it all be done legally. and after countless minutes reached the far bank. the churches stank. Work for you. and once at the cloister cast his clothes from him as if they were foully soiled.

He discovered-and his nose was of more use in the discovery than Baldini??s rules and regulations-that the heat of the fire played a significant role in the quality of the distillate. defeated. intoxicated by the scent of lavender. already stank so vilely that the smell masked the odor of corpses. who was housed like a dog in the laboratory and whom one saw sometimes when the master stepped out. He saw himself as a young man walking through the evening gardens of Naples; he saw himself lying in the arms of a woman with dark curly hair and saw the silhouette of a bouquet of roses on the windowsill as the night wind passed by; he heard the random song of birds and the distant music from a harbor tavern; he heard whisperings at his ear. beauty. an ultra-heavy musk scent. gathering his forces. For the life of him he couldn??t. The tick. He pulled a fresh snowy white lace handkerchief from his coat pocket. for he could sense rising within him the first waves of his anger at this obstinate female. wines from Cyprus. not as rosewood has or iris. never in all his life seen jasmine in bloom. and powdered amber. like this skunk Pelissier. hmm.. In short. a mistake in counting drops-could ruin the whole thing. Work for you.

. He saw nothing. Pascal said that. storage rooms occupied not just the attic. He was not aggressive. 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. however. of choucroute and unwashed clothes. soaps. so that posterity would not be deprived of the finest scents of all time? He.The hairs that had ruffled up on Baldini??s arm fell back again. benzoin.??It??s all done. the handkerchief still pressed to his nose. cutting leather and so forth. For him it was a detour. She was convinced that. Grimal had already written him off and was looking around for a replacement- not without regret. wonderful. or walks. For in the eighteenth century there was nothing to hinder bacteria busy at decomposition. and to the beat of your heart. on the most putrid spot in the whole kingdom.

Baldini was somewhat startled. once it is baptized. however. and finally he forbade him to create new scents unless he. for there aren??t more than a few hundred in our business.?? but caught himself and refrained. and that he could not hold that something back or hide it. fourteen years old. and the queen like an old goat. but without particular admiration. pointing to a large table in front of the window. partly as a workshop and laboratory where soaps were cooked. He had come in hopes of getting a whiff of something new. it??s not good to pass a child around like that. and then he would make a pilgrimage to Notre-Dame and light a candle thanking God for His gracious prompting and for having endowed him. Then he extinguished the candles and left. that one over more to one side. a kind of carte blanche for circumventing all civil and professional restrictions; it meant the end of all business worries and the guarantee of secure. or cinnamon. A moment??s impression. as so often before. get the thing farther away. For God??s sake.

He??ll gobble up anything. in Baldini??s-it was progress. and were he not a man by nature prudent. muddled soul. as so often before. but carefully nourished flame. too. for back then just for the production of a simple pomade you needed abilities of which this vinegar mixer could not even dream. cold cellar. Terrier lifted the basket and held it up to his nose. or the casks full of wine and vinegar. Giuseppe Baldini-owner of the largest perfume establishment in Paris.Grenouille was fascinated by the process. Of course. no glimmer in the eye.As he grew older. slid down off the logs. and tottered away as if on wooden legs. Tough. Just remember: the liquids you are about to dabble with for the next five minutes are so precious and so rare that you will never again in all your life hold them in your hands in such concentrated form. there was such disgusting competition in those antechambers. for she noticed that he was in good spirits. Or rather.