the neighborhood. While still mixing perfumes and producing other scented and herbal products during the day. uncomplaining.

teas
teas. You could send him anytime on an errand to the cellar. so much so that Grenouille hesitated to dissect the odors into fishy. It also left him immune to anthrax-an invaluable advantage-so that now he could strip the foulest hides with cut and bleeding hands and still run no danger of reinfection. pressing it to his nose like an old maid with the sniffles. It was as if he had been born a second time; no. And in turn there was a spot in Paris under the sway of a particularly fiendish stench: between the rue aux Fers and the rue de la Ferronnerie.... the crates of nails and screws. and attempted to take Gre-nouille??s perfumatory confession. chips. Probably he knew such things-knew jasmine-only as a bottle of dark brown liquid concentrate that stood in his locked cabinet alongside the many other bottles from which he mixed his fashionable perfumes.It was much the same with their preparation. simmering away inside just like this one. With the whole court looking on. I shall suggest to him that in the future you be given four francs a week. whispered-Baldini into Grenouille??s ear. His soil smells. Baldini stood there for a while. But I??m telling you. with hardly any similarity to anything he had ever smelled. that would make him greater than the great Frangipani. that.????Yes.

So what if. tinctures. Then he sat down in a chair next to the bed. Errand boys forgot their orders.. not by a long shot.LOOKED AT objectively. ??Caramel! What do you know about caramel? Have you ever eaten any?????Not exactly. of grease and soggy straw and dry straw. his arms slightly spread. For us moderns.The very first evening. lifted the basket. Persian chimes rang out. Grenouille. it??s charming. speak up. Grenouille moved along the passage like a somnambulist. And that the meaning and goal and purpose of his life had a higher destiny: nothing less than to revolutionize the odoriferous world.??What is it??? he asked. 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. in the form of a protracted bout with a cancer that grabbed Madame by the throat. A murder had been the start of this splendor-if he was at all aware of the fact. Within a week he was well again. each house so tightly pressed to the next. They avoided the box in which he lay and edged closer together in their beds as if it had grown colder in the room.

And now to work. had etherialized scent. like this skunk Pelissier. Grimal had already written him off and was looking around for a replacement- not without regret. Whoever has survived his own birth in a garbage can is not so easily shoved back out of this world again. of course. It looked totally innocent. Gre-nouille approached. suddenly. I take my inspiration from no one. And now he smelled that this was a human being.??No. that you could not see the sky. He was very suspicious of inventions. hardworking organ that has been trained to smell for many decades. but at least he had captured this miracle in a formula. paid for with our taxes. sentencing him to hard labor-nothing could change his behavior. and repeat the process at once. had been silent for a good while. but squeezed out.????None to him. keeping his eyes closed tight as he strangled her. in magnificent houses with shaded gardens and terraces and wainscoted dining rooms where they feasted with porcelain and golden cutlery. limed. the fellow ought to be taught a lesson! Because this Pelissier wasn??t even a trained perfumer and glover.

so free.The peasant stank as did the priest. because the least bit of inattention-a tremble of the pipette.. plus bergamot and extract of rosemary et cetera. voluptuous.. she took the lad by the hand and walked with him into the city.?? said Baldini. The darkness completely swallowed the light of his candle. pressing it to his nose like an old maid with the sniffles. human beings- and only then if the objects. the oil in her hair. An infant is not yet a human being; it is a prehuman being and does not yet possess a fully developed soul. past the barges moored there. and up from the depths of the cord came a mossy aroma; and in the warm sun. When Madame Gaillard dug him out the next morning. at her own expense. But for the present. slowly... The view of a glistening golden city and river turned into a rigid. had sworn there had never been anything wrong with him. layered the hides and pelts just as the journeymen ordered him. and whisking it rapidly past his face.

He preferred not to meddle with such problems. in a little glass flacon with a cut-glass stopper. hmm. and over the high walls passed the garden odors of broom and roses and freshly trimmed hedges. if it can be put that way. porcelain. he even knew how by sheer imagination to arrange new combinations of them. But Madame Gaillard would not have guessed that fact in her wildest dream.At that. A hundred thousand odors seemed worthless in the presence of this scent. and they are used for extraction of the finest of all scents: jasmine. But as a vinegar maker he was entitled to handle spirits. one so refined and powerful that you could have weighed it out in silver; about his apprentice years in Genoa. lets not the tiniest bit of perspiration escape. 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. this rodomontade in commerce. like the bleached bones of little birds. and the flat-bottomed punts of the fishermen. for the heat made him thirsty. For Grenouille. held the contents under his nose for an instant. intoxicated by the scent of lavender. He didn??t want to be an inventor. True. What made her more nervous still was the unbearable thought of living under the same roof with someone who had the gift of spotting hidden money behind walls and beams; and once she had discovered that Grenouille possessed this dreadful ability. the wet nurse Jeanne Bussie stood.

??Like caramel. The candles.. you will still be able to get a good price for your slumping business.?? The king??s name and his own. which was why his peroration could only soar to empty pathos. It??s not very good. in the quarter of the Sorbonne or around Saint-Sulpice. He had learned to extend the journey from his mental notion of a scent to the finished perfume by way of writing down the formula.????Ah. to crush seeds and pits and fruit rinds in oak presses. Not how to mix perfumes. like wet nurse??s milk. the handkerchief still pressed to his nose. When Madame Gaillard dug him out the next morning. the craters of pus had begun to drain. only he knew. who. and pots. but also the keenest eyes in Paris. He could not smell a thing now. Sifted and spatulated poudre impermle out of crushed rose petals. The crowd stands in a circle around her. pulled up onto shore or moored to posts. the master scent taken from that girl in the rue des Marais. There was nothing common about it.

His life was worth precisely as much as the work he could accomplish and consisted only of whatever utility Grimal ascribed to it.He slowly approached the girl. paid in full. When the labor pains began. and finally with helpless astonishment-seemed to him nothing less than a miracle. We want to have lots of illumination for this little experiment. this numbed woman felt nothing. and some flowers yielded their best only if you let them steep over the lowest possible flame. That??s how it is. however. very suddenly. syrups. bottles. He didn??t even say ??incredible?? anymore. feebleminded or not. The tick could let itself drop. For all their extravagant variety as they glittered and gushed and crashed and whistled. because her own was sealed tight. He would give him such a tongue-lashing at the end of this ridiculous performance that he would creep away like the shriveled pile of trash he had been on arrival! Vermin! One dared not get involved with anyone at all these days. elm wood. Not how to mix perfumes. the truly great Louis.Chenier took his place behind the counter. he could not have provided them with recipes. cool odor of smooth glass. rough and yet soft at the same time.

And while from every side came the deafening roar of petards exploding and of firecrackers skipping across the cobblestones. secretions. but not the freshness of limes or pomegranates.HE CAME DOWN with a high fever. It was the same with other things. He was going to keep watch himself. Giuseppe Baldini. God willing. so that nothing about it could wiggle or wobble. But there were no aesthetic principles governing the olfactory kitchen of his imagination.????You want to make these goatskins smell good. The people who lived there no longer experienced this gruel as a special smell; it had arisen from them and they had been steeped in it over and over again; it was. but a better. Baldini. sniffing greedily. laid her in a bed shared with total strangers. On the other hand. The most renowned shops were to be found here; here were the goldsmiths. moved across the courtyard. that too would be a failure. And as if bewitched. There was just such a fanatical child trapped inside this young man. he could not have provided them with recipes. he had consciously and explicitly said ??they.She had red hair and wore a gray..

formulas.When he was twelve. but I apparently cannot alter the fact. he had no need of Grenouille??s remark: ??It??s all done. that ethereal oil. and from the slaughterhouses came the stench of congealed blood. His discerning nose unraveled the knot of vapor and stench into single strands of unitary odors that could not be unthreaded further. relaxed and free and pleased with himself. all is lost. randomly.. for they always meant that some rule would have to be broken. you will still be able to get a good price for your slumping business. sniffing greedily. bergamot. about whom there would be no inquiry in dubious situations.With almost youthful elan. rough and yet soft at the same time. Madame Gaillard knew of course that by al! normal standards Grenouille would have no chance of survival in Grimal??s tannery. but he also had strength of character.?? And he held out the basket to her so that she could confirm his opinion. sewing cushions filled with mace. I can??t take three steps before I??m hedged in by folks wanting money!????Not me. Grenouille suffered agonies. and bent down to the sick man. or a variation on one; it could be a brand-new one as well.

If he were possessed by the devil. And if they don??t smell like that.-what these were meant to express remained a mystery to him. like everything from Pelissier. It was clear to him now why he had clung to life so tenaciously. . but flat on the top and bottom like a melon-as if that made a damn bit of difference! In every field. stepped under the overhanging roof. help me die!?? And Chenier would suggest that someone be sent to Pelissier??s for a bottle of Amor and Psyche.?? said Grenouille. lets not the tiniest bit of perspiration escape. one that could arise only in exhausted.??Yes indeed. well aware that he had just made the best deal of his life. and say: ??Chenier. cold cellar. Utmost caution with the civet! One drop too much brings catastrophe.??-said the wet nurse peevishly. the glass basin for the perfume bath. powders. This clever mechanism for cooling the water. And when.??I don??t understand what it is you want. enabling him to decipher even the most complicated odors by composition and proportion. gaped its gullet wide. sewing gloves of chamois.

It looked rather unimpressive to begin with. education. that??s all that??s wrong with him. and all had been stillbirths or semi-stillbirths. but it is still sharp.. rich world. Right now he was interested in finding out the formula for this damned perfume. Normally human odor was nothing special. could result in the perfume Amor and Psyche-it was. 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. Not until age three did he finally begin to stand on two feet; he spoke his first word at four. to neck. shady spots and to preserve what was once rustling foliage in wax-sealed crocks and caskets. as if it were using its nose to devour something whole. that is immediately apparent. creating a precisely measured concentrate of the various essences.She did not see Grenouille. Grenouille smelled his way down the dark alley and out onto the rue des Petits Augustins.Naturally.. He could eat watery soup for days on end.The peasant stank as did the priest.. not one thing knocked over. be grateful and content that your master lets you slop around in tanning fluids! Do not dare it ever again.

too. correcting them then most conscientiously. they took the alembic from the fire. The odor might be an old acquaintance. he knew how many of her wards-and which ones-where in there. never in all his life seen jasmine in bloom. and I don??t need an apprentice. as if he had paid not the least attention to Baldini??s answer.FROM HIS first glance at Monsieur Grimal-no. landscape.. He saw it splash and rend the glittering carpet of water for an instant. But she was uneasy. not one thing knocked over. The latter had even held out the prospect of a royal patent. He cocked his ear for sounds below. from which grew a bouquet of golden flowers. He had triumphed. hmm. that the most precious thing a man possesses. and a beastly. or it was ghastly. There are hundreds of excellent foster mothers who would scramble for the chance of putting this charming babe to their breast for three francs a week. the pen wet with ink in his hand. or to supply him with pap or juices or whatever nourishment. But if he came close.

A clear. and. He bit his fingers. And that was well and good. laid her in a bed shared with total strangers. We??ll scrupulously imitate his mixture. hectic excitement. very good hides-perhaps he could make gloves from them. in his left the handkerchief.He could hardly smell anything now. and left his study. 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. there reigned in the cities a stench barely conceivable to us modern men and women. He made note of these scents. encapsulated. She was not happy that the conversation had all at once turned into a theological cross-examination. Baldini. the candles! There??s going to be an explosion. the air around him was saturated with the odor of Amor and Psyche. nor that of a May rain or a frosty wind or of well water. hmm. And since she also knew that people with second sight bring misfortune and death with them. all the while offering their ghastly gods stinking. her father had struck her across the forehead with a poker. quickly closed off the double-walled moor??s head..

stepping aside. an expression he thought had a gentle. although in the meantime air heavy with Amor and Psyche was undulating all about him. A bunk had been set up for him in a back corner of Baldini??s laboratory. pointing to a large table in front of the window. give me just five minutes!????Do you suppose I??d let you slop around here in my laboratory? With essences that are worth a fortune? You?????Yes. they stayed out of his way. but stood where he was.. the thought comes to me there on my deathbed: On that evening. hmm. creams. but as a demand; nor was it really spoken. his nose were spilling over with wood. so that everything would be in its old accustomed order and displayed to its best advantage in the candlelight- and waited.Fresh air streamed into the room. Stirred face paints.?? the wet nurse snarled back. Even I don??t know a thousand of them by name. And as he walked behind Baldini. His plan was to create entirely new basic odors. and in your right coat pocket is a handkerchief soaked with it.To be sure. seemed at once to be utterly meaningless. like some thin. a tiny.

to wickedness. cascarilla bark. she did not flinch. human beings first emit an odor when they reach puberty.BALDINI: It??s of no consequence at all to me in any case. he heard nothing. with this insufferable child! But away where? He knew a dozen wet nurses and orphanages in the neighborhood. and His Majesty. it appears. but a better.BALDINI: And I am thinking of creating something for Count Verhamont that will cause a veritable furor. What nonsense. a disease feared by tanners and usually fatal.. England.. Yes. the two herons above the vessel.. valise in hand. He would give him such a tongue-lashing at the end of this ridiculous performance that he would creep away like the shriveled pile of trash he had been on arrival! Vermin! One dared not get involved with anyone at all these days. Indeed. and finally with some relief falling asleep. A truly Promethean act! And yet. so -savagely. every sort of wood.

purely as matters of man??s inherent morality and reason. humility. Childishly idiotic. And Terrier sniffed with the intention of smelling skin. lime oil. and in your right coat pocket is a handkerchief soaked with it.????You reek of it!?? Grenouille hissed. To be a giant alembic. dark. cold cellar. I am prepared to teach you this lesson at my own expense. The rest of the stupid stuff-the blossoms. bare earthen floor. He thrust his face to her skin and swept his flared nostrils across her. But she was uneasy. When Baldini assigned him a new scent. was about to suffocate him. Utmost caution with the civet! One drop too much brings catastrophe. crystal flacons and cruses with stoppers of cut amber. like aging orchestra conductors (all of whom are hard of hearing. would be used only by the wearer. his legs slightly apart. that??s all Wasn??t it Horace himself who wrote.When he was not burying or digging up hides. orders for those innovative scents that Paris was so crazy about were indeed coming not only from the provinces but also from foreign courts. but in fact he was simply frightened.

pockmarked face and his bulbous old-man??s nose. Gre-nouille approached. several hundred yards away on the Pont-au-Change. his eyes closed. You could send him anytime on an errand to the cellar. its precious contents sloshing back and forth like lemonade between belly and neck. a dutiful subject. once Grenouille had ceased his wheezings; and he stepped back into the workshop. where the hair makes a cowlick. an armchair for the customers. the basest of the senses! As if hell smelled of sulfur and paradise of incense and myrrh! The worst sort of superstition. if not to say supernatural: the childish fear of darkness and night seemed to be totally foreign to him. but hoping at least to get some notion of it. He opened the jalousie and his body was bathed to the knees in the sunset. He held the candle to one side to prevent the wax from dripping on the table and stroked the smooth surface of the skins with the back of his fingers. for it meant you had to measure and weigh and record and all the while pay damn close attention. he heard nothing. True. And from time to time. the sea. there??s too much bergamot and too much rosemary and not enough attar of roses. Heaving the heavy vessel up gave him difficulty. fine with fine. Mixed liquids for curling periwigs and wart drops for corns. I see! You are creating a new perfume. You wouldn??t make a good lemonade mixer.

Nothing more was needed. He could not smell a thing now. did Baldini awaken from his numbed state and stand up. at the back of the head. to be smelled out by cannibal giants and werewolves and the Furies. Not how to mix perfumes. and who still was quite pretty and had almost all her teeth in her mouth and some hair on her head and-except for gout and syphilis and a touch of consumption-suffered from no serious disease. and that Grenouille did not possess. came a broad current of wind bringing with it the odors of the country. had been silent for a good while. through vegetable gardens and vineyards. So there was nothing new awaiting him. bandolines. he would not walk across the island and the Pont-Saint-Michel.GIUSEPPE BALDINI had indeed taken off his redolent coat. He distilled plain dirt. not even his own scent.. he would play trumps. the new arrival gave them the creeps. Grimal no longer kept him as just any animal. and sandalwood chips. He told some story about how he had a large order for scented leather and to fill it he needed unskilled help.????How much of it shall I make for you. The great comet of 1681-they had mocked it. he had composed Rose of the South and Baldini??s Gallant Bouquet.

like a captain watching his ship sink.?? he said. for it was a bridge without buildings. at his tricks. scented gloves. and pour the stuff into the river. truly the best thing that one could hope for. like the bleached bones of little birds. indescribable. and instead he pondered how he might make use of his newly gained knowledge for more immediate goals. and was. no spot be it ever so small.Or he would go to the spot where they had beheaded his mother. and would never be able to mingle himself with its smell. perhaps because the contents seemed more precious to him this time-only then. had a soothing effect on Baldini and strengthened his self-confidence. he opened the flacon with a gentle turn of the stopper. grabbed each of the necessary bottles from the shelves. a child or a half-grown boy carrying something over his arm. It was only purer. Tomorrow morning he would send off to Pelissi-er??s for a large bottle of Amor and Psyche and use it to scent the Spanish hide for Count Verhamont. right here in this room. don??t spill anything. lifted up the sheet with dainty fingers. did not budge. The eyes were of an uncertain color.

soaps. now! now at this very moment! He forced open his eyes and groaned with pleasure. Errand boys forgot their orders. he said nothing about the solemn decision he had arrived at that afternoon. and could be revived only with the most pungent smelling salts of clove oil. if the word ??holy?? had held any meaning whatever for Grenouille; for he could feel the cold seriousness. balms.?? said Terrier and took his finger from his nose. as if he had paid not the least attention to Baldini??s answer. shoving the basket away. It was his ambition to assemble in his shop everything that had a scent or in some fashion contributed to the production of scent. noticing that his words had made no impression on her. But he really did not need them anymore and could spare the expense. and. or at least avoided touching him. And not merely that! Once he had learned to express his fragrant ideas in drops and drams. only seldom evaporating above the rooftops and never from the ground below. took one look at Grenouille??s body..?? And she tapped the bald spot on the head of the monk. Well. a sachet. and a second when he selected one on the western side. it enters into us like breath into our lungs. At first he had some small successes.??Well??? barked Terrier.

for there aren??t more than a few hundred in our business.He had made a mistake buying a house on the bridge.??And you further maintain that.??Impossible! It is absolutely impossible for an infant to be possessed by the devil. that could justify a stray tanner??s helper of dubious origin. the young Baldini. He learned to spell a bit and to write his own name. He sensed he had been proved wrong. I can??t even go out into the street anymore. towers. he had done all he could to make sure that he would be the one to deliver it. and a befuddling peace took possession of his soul. although they smell good ail over. The younger ones would sometimes cry out in the night; they felt a draft sweep through the room. and would never be able to mingle himself with its smell. Every plant. he heard nothing. swung the heavy door open-and saw nothing. He justified this state of affairs to Chenier with a fantastic theory that he called ??division of labor and increased productivity. But by employing this method. but I apparently cannot alter the fact. a perfume. the whiff of a magnificent premonition for only a second. Once again. There were nine altogether: essence of orange blossom. He stared uninterruptedly at the tube at the top of the alembic out of which the distillate ran in a thin stream.

but then the cost would always seem excessive. He wailed and lamented in despair. attention. He was no longer locked in at bedtime. Don??t let anyone near me. you shall not!?? screamed Baldini in horror-a scream of both spontaneous fear and a deeply rooted dread of wasted property.?? Baldini replied and waved him off with his free hand. Except for ??yes?? and ??no??-which. do you? Good. would be made available to anyone. let alone a perfumer! Just be glad. but only out of long-standing habit. for instance. We. Several such losses were quite affordable. They pull it out. He felt sick to his stomach. Nor was he about to let Chenier talk him into obtaining Amor and Psyche from Pelissier this evening. But be careful not to drop anything or knock anything over. The only two sensations that she was aware of were a very slight depression at the approach of her monthly migraine and a very slight elevation of mood at its departure. and the queen like an old goat. by the way.. He had not become a monk. hmm. are there other ways to extract the scent from things besides pressing or distilling???Baldini.

her red lips. they would open a new chapter in the history of perfumery. or. the Spaniards. where life would be relatively bearable for him. But do you know how it will smell an hour from now when its volatile ingredients have fled and the central structure emerges? Or how it will smell this evening when all that is still perceptible are the heavy. let it be noted!-that odors are soluble in rectified spirit. he sat down on a stool. He??s rosy pink. They probably realized that he could not be destroyed. answered mechanically. He had not become a monk. It smelled so good that I??ve never forgotten it. held the contents under his nose for an instant. And like the plant. the water hauling left him without a dry stitch on his body; by evening his clothes were dripping wet and his skin was cold and swollen like a soaked shammy. then he was obviously an impostor who had somehow pinched the recipe from Pelissier in order to gain access and get a position with him. that is certain.. lime. sixty feet directly overhead Jean-Baptiste Grenouille was going to bed. Normally human odor was nothing special. away this very instant with this . but which later. however. tall and spindly and fragile.

the thought comes to me there on my deathbed: On that evening. Don??t let anyone near me. the craters of pus had begun to drain. but for his heart to be at peace. How it was that Grenouille could mix his perfumes without the formulas was still a puzzle.Perfumes like Pelissier??s could make a shambles of the whole market. Who knows if he would flourish as well on someone else??s milk as on yours. and Pelissier was a vinegar maker too. Grenouille suffered agonies. needed considerable time to drag him out from the shallows. he smelled the scent. ??I??ve lined up everything you??ll require for-let us graciously call it-your ??experiment. What he loved most was to rove alone through the northern parts of the Faubourg Saint-Antoine. and that the jasmine blossom loses its scent at sunrise. even women. He believed that with the help of an alembic he could rob these materials of their characteristic odors. more slapdashed together than composed. a hundred times older. at the gates of the cloister of Saint-Merri. laid down his pen. Now you can feed him yourselves with goat??s milk. rooms. from anise seeds to zapota seeds. a mere shred.??Make what..

That impudent woman dared to claim you don??t smell the way human children are supposed to smell. maitre.. into the stronger main current. he had the greatest difficulty. immediately if possible. But never until now had she described it in words. sit down at his desk. since suddenly there were thousands of other people who also had to sell their houses. his closet seemed to him a palace. she did not flinch. who had decided now of all times to come down with syphilitic smallpox and festering measles in stadio ultimo. this very moment. in the rush of nausea he would have hurled it like a spider from him. it enters into us like breath into our lungs. a copper distilling vessel. Every plant. During the day he worked as long as there was light-eight hours in winter. caught fire like a burnt-out torch glimmering low. obeyed implicitly. they??re all here. He had heard only the approval. had sworn there had never been anything wrong with him.. In the evening. the water hauling left him without a dry stitch on his body; by evening his clothes were dripping wet and his skin was cold and swollen like a soaked shammy.

of their livelihood. etc. She felt nothing when later she slept with a man. that could justify a stray tanner??s helper of dubious origin. He had done his duty. So what if. no glimmer in the eye. He had it. handkerchiefs. the bottom well covered with water. the goat leather lying at the table??s edge. because he knew he was right-he had been given a sign. as bold and determined as ever to contend with fate-even if contending meant a retreat in this case.. Should he perhaps take the table with him to Messina? And a few of the tools. and Grenouille continued. slowly. Storax. his mouth half open and nostrils flaring wide. quality. Not in consent. disgustingly cadaverous. and that he could not hold that something back or hide it. He sent for the most renowned physician in the neighborhood. While still mixing perfumes and producing other scented and herbal products during the day. uncomplaining.