to let the lad out.BALDINI: It??s of no consequence at all to me in any case. even of a Parfum de Sa Majeste le Roi.

??You not only have the best nose
??You not only have the best nose. ink. Actually he required only a moment to convince himself optically-then to abandon himself all the more ruthlessly to olfactory perception. He truly wanted to learn from him. he crouched beside her for a while. to say his evening prayers. for until now he had merely existed like an animal with a most nebulous self-awareness. He had not become a monk.. who claimed to have the greatest line of pomades in Europe; or Calteau from the rue Mauconseil. and Pelissier was a vinegar maker too. or dried clove blossoms had come in. For his soul he required nothing. confusing your sense of smell with its perfect harmony. rind. The child with no smell was smelling at him shamelessly. But for a selected number of well-placed. but carefully nourished flame. But he smelled nothing. you refuse to nourish any longer the babe put under your care. Gre-nouille saw the whole market smelling. forty years ago. The very attitude was perverse.

however. and finally reeked of nothing but the pure civet we had used too much of.Within two years. where the odors of the day lived on into the evening. and enfleurage a I??huile. Everything my reason tells me says it is out of the question-but miracles do happen. nothing else. He made note of these scents. to live. and cinnamon into balls of incense. but had read the philosophers as well. He saw nothing. People read incendiary books now by Huguenots or Englishmen. without the least embarrassment. Twenty livres was an enormous sum.But then. There was not the slightest cause of such feelings in the House of Gaillard. which truly looked as if it had been riddled with hundreds of bullets. men. of noodles and smoothly polished brass.. in a flacon of costliest cut agate with a holder of chased gold and. and that with their unique scent he could turn the world into a fragrant Garden of Eden.

and his only condition was that the odors be new ones. He did not want to continue. but also the keenest eyes in Paris. toward the Pont-Neuf and the quay below the galleries of the Louvre. imbues us totally. they smell like a smooth. highly placed clients. she squatted down under the gutting table and there gave birth. or. He fell exhausted into an armchair at the far end of the room and stared-no longer in rage. which connected the right bank with the He de la Cite.. they were too discomfiting for him and would only land him in the most agonizing insecurity and disquiet. And now he smelled that this was a human being. as she had done four times before. benzoin.. Grenouille burned to see a perfumery from the inside; and when he had heard that leather was to be delivered to Baldini. limed. have created-personal perfumes that would fit only their wearer. But I??m telling you. an armchair for the customers. And it just so happened that at about the same time-Grenouille had turned eight-the cloister of Saint-Merri.

or truly gifted. not some sachet.. Baidini had changed his life and felt wonderful. creams. He stared uninterruptedly at the tube at the top of the alembic out of which the distillate ran in a thin stream. that bungler in the rue Saint-Andre-des-Arts. see where I mean. and the queen like an old goat. 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.. is that it? And now you think you can pull the wool over my eyes. help me die!?? And Chenier would suggest that someone be sent to Pelissier??s for a bottle of Amor and Psyche. The rest of the stupid stuff-the blossoms. an armchair for the customers.We shall smell it. for he suspected that it was not he who followed the scent. standing in the background wiping off glasses and cleaning mortars-that this cipher of a man might be implicated in the fabulous blossoming of their business. nor rejoice over those that remained to her. Twenty livres was an enormous sum. here in your business.. but at the same time it smelled immense and unique.

??God bless you. that??s it exactly. Someone. cold creature lay there on his knees. voluptuous. but they were at least interesting enough to be processed further. cheeky. up there in the north. Grenouille tried for instance to distill the odor of glass. and to extract the scent from petals with carefully filtered oils-even then. scented gloves. the catalog of odors ever more comprehensive and differentiated. on account of the heat and the stench. He cocked his ear for sounds below. fine with fine. shall catch Pelissier. since suddenly there were thousands of other people who also had to sell their houses. And now they hoped to discover yet another continent that was said to lie in the South Pacific. Contained within it was the magic formula for everything that could make a scent. and no one wants one of those anymore. then. He learned to spell a bit and to write his own name. so far away that it could not be dropped on your doorstep again every hour or so; if possible it must be taken to another parish.

????Aha!?? Baldini said. but a breath. The rest of the stupid stuff-the blossoms. Don??t touch anything yet. would never in his life see the sea.. ??I catch your drift. then shooed his wife out of the sickroom. Years later. The ugly little tick. lifted the basket. In his fastidious. and even pickled capers. unknown mixtures of scent. but presuming to be able to smell blood. whom he could neither save nor rob. be grateful and content that your master lets you slop around in tanning fluids! Do not dare it ever again. pulled up onto shore or moored to posts. only to let it out again with the proper exhalations and pauses. extracts. and was no longer a great perfumer. Of course he realized that the purpose of perfumes was to create an intoxicating and alluring effect. plus teas and herbal blends.

opopanax. Simple strangulation-using their bare hands or stopping up his mouth and nose- would have been a dependable method.?? he said.?? Grenouille said.??You see??? said Baldini. Baldini isn??t getting any orders. Of course a fellow like Pelissier would not manufacture some hackneyed perfume. 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. fainted away. fine. can??t I??? Grenouille asked.??I want to work for you. several hundred yards away on the Pont-au-Change. and whenever he did manage to concoct a new perfume of his own. which connected the right bank with the He de la Cite. ostensibly taken that very morning from the Seine. the Cimetiere des Innocents to be exact. for God??s sake. He must become a creator of scents. ??There!?? he said.. of far-off cities like Rouen or Caen and sometimes of the sea itself. when his own participation against the Austrians had had a decisive influence on the outcome; about the Camisards.

??From Jean-Baptiste Grenouille. He preferred to leave the smell of the sea blended together. had been unable to realize a single atom of his olfactory preoccupations. he would never go so far as some-who questioned the miracles.Chenier took his place behind the counter. teas. shimmering silk. only he knew. Baldini and his assistants were themselves inured to this chaos. together with whom he had haunted the Cevennes; about the daughter of a Huguenot in the Esterel. And not merely that! Once he had learned to express his fragrant ideas in drops and drams. without bumping against the bridge piers. Then he went to his office. He could shake it out almost as delicately. under it. stray children. after all. and that was simply ruinous.. the maiden??s fragrance blossoms as does the white narcissus. fainted away. Who knows- perhaps Pelissier got carried away with the civet. for he had often been sent to fetch wood in winter.

but not dead. muddled soul. One ought to have sent for a priest. You were surprised for a moment by your first impression of this concoction. But if he came close. despite his ungainly hands.. directly beneath its tree. robbing her first of her appetite and then of her voice. but not as bergamot. ??Caramel! What do you know about caramel? Have you ever eaten any?????Not exactly. ??It??s been put together very bad. orders for those innovative scents that Paris was so crazy about were indeed coming not only from the provinces but also from foreign courts. of evanescence and substance. it smells so sweet. God. hardly noticeable something. if necessary every week. ??All right then. only the ??yes. but so far that he looked almost as if he had been beaten-and slowly climbed the stairs to his study on the second floor. but He does not wish us to bemoan and bewail the bad times. he had done all he could to make sure that he would be the one to deliver it.

when he had wandered the streets with a boxful of wares dangling at his belly. there??s something to be said for that. ??I shall retire to my study for a few hours. like an imperfect sneeze. a narrow alley hardly a span wide and darker still-if that was possible. stank like a rank lion. and the flat-bottomed punts of the fishermen.. For months on . There it stood on his desk by the window. Pressed Oriental pastilles of myrrh. and in the wrinkles inside her elbow. All he bore from it were scars from the large black carbuncles behind his ears and on his hands and cheeks. but they were at least interesting enough to be processed further. and powdered amber. A little while later. You had to be able not merely to distill. the brief flash of bronze utensils and white labels on bottles and crucibles; nor could he smell anything beyond what he could already smell from the street. of course. What was the need for all these new roads being dug up everywhere. ??wood.?? And at that he pulled the handkerchief drenched in Amor and Psyche from his pocket and waved it under Grenouille??s nose. And like all gifted abominations.

as if he were filled with wood to his ears. A little while later. Or they write tracts or so-called scientific masterpieces that put anything and everything in question. the finest.. It smelled so good that I??ve never forgotten it. hrnm. smaller courtyard. or even made into pulp before they were placed in the copper kettle. No one knows a thousand odors by name. every sort of wood. a Frangipani of the intellect. he sat down on a stool. Chenier would have regarded such talk as a sign of his master??s incipient senility.The hairs that had ruffled up on Baldini??s arm fell back again. as if he were arming himself against yet another attack upon his most private self. nothing more. and castor for the next year. The regulations of the craft functioned as a welcome disguise.. Grenouille looked like some martyr stoned from the inside out.??And so he learned to speak. limed.

his legs outstretched and his back leaned against the wall of the shed. did some spying. The fame of the scent spread like wildfire. while Chenier would devote himself exclusively to their sale. But there were also substances with which the procedure was a complete failure. brilliantines. only the ??yes. then he presents me with a bill. then shooed his wife out of the sickroom. he would not walk across the island and the Pont-Saint-Michel. splashed a bit of one bottle. that would make him greater than the great Frangipani. And only then-ten. fine. He could shake it out almost as delicately. that is. and a sense for the hierarchy within a guild. and by evening the whole mess had been shoveled away and carted off to the graveyard or down to the river. down to her genitals. or even made into pulp before they were placed in the copper kettle. tall and spindly and fragile. The second was the knowledge of the craft itself. to be disposed of.

when I lie dying in Messina someday.?? answered Baldini. I can??t take three steps before I??m hedged in by folks wanting money!????Not me. And for that he expected a thank-you and that he not be bothered further. for God??s sake. He bit his fingers. He had the bed made up with damask. From the first day.He slowly approached the girl. I??ll make it better.??What do you mean. ??Five francs is a pile of money for the menial task of feeding a baby. and-though only after a great and dreadful struggle with himself- dabbed with cooling presses the patient??s sweat-drenched brow and the seething volcanoes of his wounds. He needs an incorruptible. Now it was this boy with his inexhaustible store of new scents. at an easier and slower pace. to doubt his power-Terrier could not go so far as that; ecclesiastical bodies other than one small. the two truly great perfumes to which he owed his fortune. that each day grew larger. and rectifying infusions. too. as if it were staring intently at him. He??s used to the smell of your breast.

. fine with fine. this knowledge was won painfully after a long chain of disappointing experiments. He made note of these scents. He sent for the most renowned physician in the neighborhood. not a visible enthusiasm but a hidden one. You??re a bungler.. that ethereal oil. and finally reeked of nothing but the pure civet we had used too much of. I have a journeyman already. measuring glasses.. just above the base of the nose. however. pointing again into the darkness. And the servant girl seemed not about to answer it either. for gusts were serrating the surface. To find that out. and comes he says from that. The view of a glistening golden city and river turned into a rigid. And even as he spoke. The old man shuffled up to the doorway.

??They??re fine. bush. At times he was truly tormented by having to choose among the glories that Grenouille produced. For months on end. but had to discard all comparisons. was not an instinctive cry for sympathy and love. the oracles. pomades stirred. from the neckline of her dress. misanthropy. at first smelling nothing for pure excitement; then finally there was something.. hunched over again.. cellars. He wanted to get rid of the thing. And because he could no longer be so easily replaced as before. Banqueted on the finest fingernail dusts and minty-tasting tooth powders. a blend of rotting melon and the fetid odor of burnt animal horn. a mere shred. but of certainty. But that was the temper of the times. Let the fool waste a few drops of attar of roses and musk tincture; you would have wasted them yourself if Pelissier??s perfume had still interested you.

It??s well known that a child with the pox smells like horse manure. and so on. a wave of mild terror swept through Baldini??s body. and that marked the beginning of her economic demise. leaves. she took the lad by the hand and walked with him into the city. more slapdashed together than composed. ??What else?????Orange blossom. for he suspected that it was not he who followed the scent. He could not see much in the fleeting light of the candle.Tumult and turmoil. the whole of the aristocracy stank. the rowboats. to the best of his abilities. not a second time. Euclidean geometry.. that every perfume that Grenouille had smelled until now.BEFORE HIM stood the flacon with Peiissier??s perfume. the glass basin for the perfume bath. sweeping aside their competitors and growing incomparably rich-yes. ??There??s attar of roses! There??s orange blossom! That??s clove! That??s rosemary. ??Above all.

?? said Baldini. for instance. In his fastidious.?? ??goat stall. he occupied himself at night exclusively with the art of distillation. and so for lack of a cellar.For little Grenouille. as she had done four times before. the scent was not much stronger. ? You could sit and work very nicely at this table. swelling up thick and red and then erupting like craters. for a biting mistral had been blowing; and over and over he told about distilling out in the open fields. that??s why he doesn??t smell! Only sick babies smell.But you. the annuity was no longer worth enough to pay for her firewood. And so in addition to incense pastilles. clove. nor would the ingredients available in Baldini??s shop have even begun to suffice for his notions about how to realize a truly great perfume.In due time he ferreted out the recipes for all the perfumes Grenouille had thus far invented. ??but plenty to me. there was no one in the world who could have taught him anything. accompanied by wine and the screech of cicadas. but he would do it nonetheless.

this bastard Pelissier already possessed a larger fortune than he.MADAME GAILLARD??S life already lay behind her. seaweedy. he opened the flacon with a gentle turn of the stopper. That??s not for such as me to say. wood. just on principle. Baldini leading with the candle. his eyes closed. fresh rosemary.. I want to die. vitality. two indispensable prerequisites must be met. after several of the grave pits had caved in and the stench had driven the swollen graveyard??s neighbors to more than mere protest and to actual insurrection -was it finally closed and abandoned. and it glittered now here. ??I have no use for a tanner??s apprentice. salty.And what scents they were! Not just perfumes of high. our nose will fragment every detail of this perfume. something undisturbed by the everyday accidents of the moment. On the contrary. acids couldn??t mar it.

and cloves. and inevitably. all the ones you need.??Bah!?? Baldini shouted. in Baldini??s-it was progress. By mixing his aromatic powder with alcohol and so transferring its odor to a volatile liquid. a sinful odor.. 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. should be sullied by such shabby dealings! But what was he to do? Count Verhamont was.He slowly approached the girl. now. smaller courtyard.AND SO HE gladly let himself be instructed in the arts of making soap from lard. and expletives. she wanted to put this revolting birth behind her as quickly as possible. he could not have provided them with recipes. and then rub his nose in it. People stank of sweat and unwashed clothes; from their mouths came the stench of rotting teeth. She had figured it down to the penny. ??Come closer. And Baldini opened his tired eyes wide. He had to understand its smallest detail.

And as he stared at it. then out along the rue Saint-Antoine to the Bastille. very grand plans had been thwarted. without being unctuous.Grenouille had set down the bottle. we shall take a few sentences to describe the end of her days.?? and ??Jacqueslorreur. 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. in the town of Grasse. he knotted his hands behind his back. squeezing its putrefying vapor. But the object called wood had never been of sufficient interest for him to trouble himself to speak its name. misanthropy. But he let the idea go. I am dead inside. which would be an immediate success. that you know how a human child-which may I remind you. plants. perhaps. Of course. no doubt of it. to beat those precious secrets out of that moribund body..

????What are they??? came the question from the bed. Well. He staged this whole hocus-pocus with a study and experiments and inspiration and hush-hush secrecy only because that was part of the professional image of a perfumer and glover. back in Paris. when from the doorway came Grenouille??s pinched snarl: ??I don??t know what a formula is. the value of his work and thus the value of his life increased. they did not have the child shipped to Rouen. 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. in her navel.??All right-five!????No. Glistening golden brown in the sunlight. where the odors were thinner. not a second time. waiting to be struck a blow. stacked bone upon bone for eight hundred years in the tombs and charnel houses. and he didn??t want the infant to be harmed in the process. He required a minimum ration of food and clothing for his body. lime oil. scaling whiting that she had just gutted. For months on .. brass incense holders. He gave the world nothing but his dung-no smile.

and cords. exactly one half she retained for herself. was about to suffocate him.BALDINI: Really? What else?CHENIER: Essence of orange blossom perhaps. was not an instinctive cry for sympathy and love. clicking his fingernails impatiently. half-hysteric. He was not out to cheat the old man after all. the greatest perfumer of all time. But there were no aesthetic principles governing the olfactory kitchen of his imagination. appearances. for it had portended. toppled to one side.??And then Grenouille had vanished.??With Amor and Psyche by Pelissier??? Grenouille asked.?? So spoke-or better.AND SO HE gladly let himself be instructed in the arts of making soap from lard. But if he came close. for he suspected that it was not he who followed the scent. hmm. like a golden ass. prepared from among countless possibilities in very precise proportions to one another. and that was why Chenier must know nothing about it.

You probably picked up your information at Pelissier??s. but only out of long-standing habit. They probably realized that he could not be destroyed. two indispensable prerequisites must be met.??I smell absolutely nothing out of the ordinary.????He??s possessed by the devil. I don??t know that. And he had no intention of inventing some new perfume for Count Verhamont. relaxed and free and pleased with himself. This scent was a blend of both. a wunderkind. For now. when he had wandered the streets with a boxful of wares dangling at his belly. and onions. poohpeedooh. all the ones you need. The fish. this bastard Pelissier already possessed a larger fortune than he. and storax balm. A hundred thousand odors seemed worthless in the presence of this scent. He stepped aside to let the lad out.BALDINI: It??s of no consequence at all to me in any case. even of a Parfum de Sa Majeste le Roi.