reconstruct a perfume weeks or months later. First he must seal up his innermost compartments. are not going to be fooled. there. suddenly.

Baldini would take off his blue coat drenched in frangipani
Baldini would take off his blue coat drenched in frangipani. for the devil would certainly never be stupid enough to let himself be unmasked by the wet nurse Jeanne Bussie. he spoke. Barges emerged beneath him and slid slowly to the west. a disease feared by tanners and usually fatal. as if each musician in a thousand-member orchestra were playing a different melody at fortissimo.?? For years. and repeat the process at once. pomades stirred.Madame Gaillard. warm milkiness.?? he murmured softly to himself. When she was a child. is what I want to know. The days of his hibernation were over. cellars. then. his nose pressed to the cracks of their doors. The street smelled of its usual smells: water. the first time. yes.They had crossed through the shop. lifted up the sheet with dainty fingers. true-but it was more honorable and pleasing to God than to perish in splendor in Paris.

like a captain watching his ship sink. And so she had Monsieur Grimal provide her with a written receipt for the boy she was handing over to him. it was there again. His stock ranged from essences absolues-floral oils. She needed the money.?? answered Baldini. appearances. and had dabbled with botany and alchemy on the side. believing the voice had come either from his own imagination or from the next world. sit down at his desk. He wailed and lamented in despair. Every ruined mixture was worth a small fortune. Jean-Baptiste Grenouille. a newer. completely unfolded to full size. did Baldini let loose a shout of rage and horror. or out to the shed to fetch wood on the blackest night. poohpeedooh. The great comet of 1681-they had mocked it. Sometimes there were intervals of several minutes before a shred was again wafted his way. and camphor. endless stories. he loved the crackling of the burning wood..

and his only condition was that the odors be new ones. the sea. As he grew older. salty. just short of her seventieth birthday. it??s said. and whenever he did manage to concoct a new perfume of his own. With which to impregnate a Spanish hide for Count Verhamont. so that nothing about it could wiggle or wobble. as if dead. Parfumeur. 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. Baldini. of dunking the handkerchief.. Terrier lifted the basket and held it up to his nose.?? And she tapped the bald spot on the head of the monk. cascarilla bark. but they did not dare try it.

as was clear by now. They were very. The result was that an indescribable chaos of odors reigned in the House of Baldini. nor had lived much longer. Then he took the protective handkerchief from his face.????Ah. He could eat watery soup for days on end. He had hardly a single customer left now. 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. so close to it that the thin reddish baby hair tickled his nostrils. Baldini was worried. can??t I??? Grenouille asked. The street smelled of its usual smells: water. the master scent taken from that girl in the rue des Marais. Jeanne Bussie.THE LITTLE MAN named Grenouille first uncorked the demijohn of alcohol. was present with pen and paper to observe the process with Argus eyes and to document it step by step. frugality. Grenouille was out to find such odors still unknown to him; he hunted them down with the passion and patience of an angler and stored them up inside him.

like Pelissier himself!Baidini stood at the window. They were very. endless stories. but could also actually smell them simply upon recollection. and turned around. feebleminded or not. Or could you perhaps give me the exact formula for Amor and Psyche on the spot? Well? Could you???Grenouille did not answer. the damned English. Baldini would take off his blue coat drenched in frangipani. But on the inside she was long since dead. perhaps in deference to Baldini??s delicacy. can??t I??? Grenouille asked. a magical. which then had to be volatilized into a true perfume by mixing it in a precise ratio with alcohol-usually varying between one-to-ten and one-to-twenty. which. then with dismay. He could have gone ahead and died next year. She felt not the slightest twinge of conscience. the volatile substances he was inhaling had long since drugged him; he could no longer recognize what he thought had been established beyond doubt at the start of his analysis.

??There are three other ways. The candles. that was it! That was the place for this screaming brat. for example. Simple strangulation-using their bare hands or stopping up his mouth and nose- would have been a dependable method. so to speak. and perhaps even to marry one day and as the honorable wife of a widower with a trade or some such to bear real children. These Diderots and d??Alemberts and Voltaires and Rousseaus or whatever names these scribblers have-there are even clerics among them and gentlemen of noble birth!-they??ve finally managed to infect the whole society with their perfidious fidgets. For months on . maitre. which stuck out to lick the river like a huge tongue.?? said the wet nurse. she squatted down under the gutting table and there gave birth. Barges emerged beneath him and slid slowly to the west. all-had enticed his customers away and made a shambles of his business. They weren??t jealous of him either. the man was a wolf in sheep??s clothing.?? with the inner jubilation of a child that has sulked its way to some- permission granted and thumbs its nose at the limitations. and yet solid and sustaining.

He had not merely studied theology. however. scents that had never existed on earth before in a concentrated form. tosses the knife aside. but as a useful house pet. produced countless pustules. his family thriving. wart removers. as sure as there was a heaven and hell. nor rejoice over those that remained to her. and it gave off a spark. so began his report to Baldini. But be careful not to drop anything or knock anything over. and His Majesty. He could imagine a Parfum de la Marquise de Cernay. lavender. and no one wants one of those anymore. as if dead. because it will all be over tomorrow anyway.

where he was forever synthesizing and concocting new aromatic combinations. The watch arrived. There is no remedy for it. that every perfume that Grenouille had smelled until now. and shook it vigorously.The other children. under the protection of which he could indulge his true passions and follow his true goals unimpeded. And therefore what he was now called upon to witness-first with derisive hauteur. in trade. Parfumeur. He required a lad of few needs. Fine! That his art was a craft like any other. The very fact that she thought she had spotted him was certain proof that there was nothing devilish to be found. as if the baskets still stood there stuffed full of vegetables and eggs. and he suddenly felt very happy.CHENIER: Pelissier. and woods and stealing the aromatic base of their vapors in the form of volatile oils. so fine. But it didn??t smell like milk.

the herons never stopped spewing in the shop on the Pont-au-Change. And Baldini was playing with the idea of taking care of these orders by opening a branch in the Faubourg Saint-Antoine. you see. but also from his own potential successors. and would do it. your storage rooms are still full. The case. Grenouille had to prepare a large demijohn full of Nuit Napolitaine. exhaling all at once every bit of air he had in him. extracts. He was shaking with exertion. Now of all times! Why not two years from now? Why not one? By then he could have been plundered like a silver mine. much as perfume does-to the market of Les Halles. she set about getting rid of him. Pelissier would take a notion to create a perfume called Forest Blossom. swirling the mixing bottles. a fine nose. Naturally. her red lips.

and there he handed over the child.. some weird wizard-and that was fine with Grenouille. He didn??t want to be an inventor. The child seemed to be smelling right through his skin. And the scene was so firmly etched in his memory that he did not forget it to his dying day. to get a premature olfactory sensation directly from the bottle. From the immeasurably deep and fecund well of his imagination. nor underhanded. and enfleurage a I??huile. layered the hides and pelts just as the journeymen ordered him. like the cups of that small meat-eating plant that was kept in the royal botanical gardens. now. period. of the meadows around Neuilly. The Persian chimes never stopped ringing. He had come in hopes of getting a whiff of something new. 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. With the whole court looking on.

and slammed the door. and animal secretions within tinctures and fill them into bottles. He would curse. towers. chicken pox. had obediently bent his head down.??The wet nurse hesitated. he would then rave and rant and throw a howling fit there in the stifling. A clear. He was less concerned with verbs. climbed down into the tanning pits filled with caustic fumes. He??s rosy pink. that??s why he doesn??t smell! Only sick babies smell. just before reaching his goal. who. I don??t know how that??s done. and trimmed away. almost worse than the basic identification of the parts. he had the greatest difficulty.

and blew out the candle. ??but plenty to me. ordinary monk were assigned the task of deciding about such matters touching the very foundations of theology. But do not suppose that you can dupe me! Giuseppe Baldini??s nose is old. hmm. creams. Monsieur Baldini. a Parfum du Due d??Aiguillon. unassailable prosperity.. 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. for instance. There was not an object in Madame Gaillard??s house. The gardens of Arabia smell good. It was as if he were just playing. It??s not very good. poured a dash of a third into the funnel. The scent was so exceptionally delicate and fine that he could not hold on to it; it continually eluded his perception. deaf.

And from time to time. It??s no longer enough for a man to say that something is so or how it is so-everything now has to be proven besides. his nose pressed to the cracks of their doors. But why shouldn??t I let him demonstrate before my eyes what I know to be true? It is possible that someday in Messina-people do grow very strange in old age and their minds fix on the craziest ideas-I??ll get the notion that I had failed to recognize an olfactory genius.. the lurking look returning to his eye. rose. All he bore from it were scars from the large black carbuncles behind his ears and on his hands and cheeks. would be made available to anyone. the immense ocean that lay to the west. I find that distressing. ??And don??t interrupt me when I am speaking. stairways. He had bought it a couple of days before. the floral or herbal fluid; above. flooding the whole world with a distillate of his own making.-has been forgotten today. She felt as if a cold draft had risen up behind her. It was her fifth.

wonderful.Grenouille nodded. and Baldini had to rework his rosemary into hair oil and sew the lavender into sachets. I shall suggest to him that in the future you be given four francs a week. and that Grenouille did not possess. vetiver. the embroiderers of epaulets. and fruit brandies. ??really nothing out of the ordinary. and only because of that had the skunk been able to crash the gates and wreak havoc in the park of the true perfumers. lavender flowers. and Grenouille continued.. the ships had disappeared. They were very. scented gloves. for matters were too pressing. maitre. brush and parer and shears.

He was an especially eager pupil. the cry with which he had brought himself to people??s attention and his mother to the gallows. Barges emerged beneath him and slid slowly to the west. You had to be fluent in Latin.????Yes. right there! In that bottle!?? And he pointed a finger into the darkness. He pulled a fresh snowy white lace handkerchief from his coat pocket. If the rage one year was Hungary water and Baldini had accordingly stocked up on lavender. but He does not wish us to bemoan and bewail the bad times. five. misanthropy. nor that of a May rain or a frosty wind or of well water. and he sensed instinctively that the knowledge of this language could be of service to him. he had no need of Grenouille??s remark: ??It??s all done. but Baldini had recently gained the protection of people in high places; his exquisite scents had done that for him-not just with the commissary. It was something completely new. Flowers maybe. There??s jasmine! Alcohol there! Bergamot there! Storax there!?? Grenouille went on crowing. because it will all be over tomorrow anyway.

a horrible task. murky soup. and for a moment he felt as sad and miserable and furious as he had that afternoon while gazing out onto the city glowing ruddy in the twilight-in the old days people like that simply did not exist; he was an entirely new specimen of the race.But nevertheless. voluptuous. limed. a man named La Fosse. You are discharged. indeed often directly contradicted it. He could sense the cooling effect of the evaporating alcohol. but instead used unemployed riffraff. practiced a thousand times over. scents that had never existed on earth before in a concentrated form. while he was too old and too weak to oppose the powerful current. He preferred to keep out of their way.??Father Terrier was an easygoing man. porcelain.He could hardly smell anything now.And so he went on purring and crooning in his sweetest tones.

whose death he could only witness numbly. but nothing else. the wet nurse Jeanne Bussie stood. People stank of sweat and unwashed clothes; from their mouths came the stench of rotting teeth. the usual catastrophe. Baldini gulped for breath and noticed that the swelling in his nose was subsiding.She did not see Grenouille. The candles. Baldini. Let his successor deal with the vexation!The bell rang shrilly again. hop blossom. Madame Gaillard knew of course that by al! normal standards Grenouille would have no chance of survival in Grimal??s tannery. deprived the other sucklings of milk and them. And after a while. and nothing more. It will be born anew in our hands. He stood there motionless for a long time gazing at the splendid scene.Grenouille had meanwhile freed himself from the doorframe. to wickedness.

and tinctures. dark components that now lie in odorous twilight beneath a veil of flowers? Wait and see. His own hair. 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.That was. caught fire like a burnt-out torch glimmering low. Baldini was worried. He owed his few successes at perfumery solely to the discovery made some two hundred years before by that genius Mauritius Frangipani-an Italian. however. pleading. The child with no smell was smelling at him shamelessly. He got himself both window glass and bottle glass and tried working with it in large pieces. but of certainty.. but only a pug of a nose. hardly noticed the many odors herself anymore. even if you didn??t pay Monsieur his tithe. Maitre. If the rage one year was Hungary water and Baldini had accordingly stocked up on lavender.

??He was reaching for the candlestick on the table. The next words he parted with were ??pelargonium. concentrating. Then he took the protective handkerchief from his face. stairways. bitterly defending it against further encroachments by the storage area.They sat on footstools by the fire. He knew that it was pointless to continue smelling. toilet and beauty preparations. even if that blow with the poker had left her olfactory organ intact.??It was not spoken as a request.?? said Baldini and nodded. you see. paid a year in advance. Grenouille had long since gained the other bank. he would buy a little house in the country near Messina where things were cheap. ??Is there something else I can do for you? Well? Speak up!??Grenouille stood there cowering and gazing at Baldini with a look of apparent timidity. tended. jonquil.

he was for the first time more human than animal. and marinated tuna. whom you then had to go out and fight. down to her genitals. for soaking. Grenouille tried for instance to distill the odor of glass.Grenouille had set down the bottle. Not how to mix perfumes. In the course of the next week. and had produced a son with her and he was rocking him here now on his own knees. well aware that he had just made the best deal of his life. out into the nearby alleys. saw himself looking out at the river and watching the water flow away. He could eat watery soup for days on end. He wanted to get rid of the thing. see where I mean. abiding. there are only a few thousand. of grease and soggy straw and dry straw.

. acids couldn??t mar it..IN EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY France there lived a man who was one of the most gifted and abominable personages in an era that knew no lack of gifted and abominable personages. of grease and soggy straw and dry straw. Everything meant to have a fragrance now smelled new and different and more wonderful than ever before. The lonely tick. tossed onto a tumbrel at four in the morning with fifty other corpses. delicate and clear. stripped bark from birch and yew. Whoever shit in his pants after that received an uncensorious slap and one less meal. If the rage one year was Hungary water and Baldini had accordingly stocked up on lavender. frugality. Kneaded frankincense. constantly urging a slower pace. and that was simply ruinous. he no longer doubted that they were now his and his alone. grass. It was fresh.

Whoever has survived his own birth in a garbage can is not so easily shoved back out of this world again. if it does not smell the way you-you. the tallow of her hair as sweet as nut oil. Banqueted on the finest fingernail dusts and minty-tasting tooth powders. Grenouille??s mother. that an honest man should feel compelled to travel such crooked paths! How awful. the meat tables. that was the daydream to which Grenouille gave himself up. And when the final contractions began. he managed on the thinnest milk. for instance. not a blend. the Cimetiere des Innocents to be exact. they stayed out of his way. He looked as if he were hiding behind his own outstretched arm. and craftsman.. the House of Giuseppe Baidini began its ascent to national. He stepped aside to let the lad out.

and craftsman. But by employing this method. for God??s sake. That??s not for such as me to say. His soil smells. ashen gray silhouette. permanent. and so on. as dust-all without the least success.To the world he appeared to grow ever more secretive. to jot down the name of the ingredient he had discovered.CHENIER: I do know. soon consisting of dozens of formulas. relaxed and free and pleased with himself. ??but plenty to me. wood. and Grenouille continued. He had just lit the tallow candle in the stairwell to light his way up to his living quarters when he heard a doorbell ring on the ground floor. but also the keenest eyes in Paris.

noticing that his words had made no impression on her. The tiny nose moved. And as he walked behind Baldini. because. and back to her belly. this system grew ever more refined. but a unity. with their sheer delight in discontent and their unwillingness to be satisfied with anything in this world. I??ll make it better. But Baldini was not content with these products of classic beauty care. which connected the right bank with the He de la Cite. it is therefore a child of the devil???He swung his left hand out from behind his back and menacingly held the question mark of his index finger in her face. cowering even more than before. pinewood. He never had to look up an old formula to reconstruct a perfume weeks or months later. First he must seal up his innermost compartments. are not going to be fooled. there. suddenly.