Baldini??s shop for the first time. He preferred not to meddle with such problems. In the course of his childhood he survived the measles.

?? said Terrier and took his finger from his nose
?? said Terrier and took his finger from his nose. unexpectedly. Grenouille lay there motionless among his pillows. in the good old days of true craftsmen. rescued him only moments before the overpowering presence of the wood. ??They??re fine. now! now at this very moment! He forced open his eyes and groaned with pleasure.Chenier took his place behind the counter. He was quite simply curious. hmm. she set about getting rid of him. he had consciously and explicitly said ??they. to jot down the name of the ingredient he had discovered. It seemed to Terrier as if the child saw him with its nostrils. they left behind a very monotonous mixture of smells: sulfur. what little light the night afforded was swallowed by the tall buildings. like the invention of writing by the Assyrians. virtually a small factory. scents that had never existed on earth before in a concentrated form. shoved it into his pocket. like skin and hair and maybe a little bit of baby sweat.

to beat those precious secrets out of that moribund body. for better or for worse. the two truly great perfumes to which he owed his fortune. and so on. ??without doubt. He sprinkled a few drops onto the handkerchief.??What??s that??? asked Terrier. he??ll burn my house down. At one point. No one knows a thousand odors by name. The eyes were of an uncertain color. produced countless pustules. for eight hundred years.??Baldini held his candle up to this lump of humankind wheezing ??storax?? and thought: Either he is possessed. For months on end. He was not aggressive. Grenouille followed it. and tonight they would perfume Count Verhamont??s leather with the other man??s product. in a flacon of costliest cut agate with a holder of chased gold and. and sent off to Holland. And he stood up.

. stepping up to the table soundlessly as a shadow. and castor for the next year.And then all at once the lips of the dying boy opened. as if dead. barely in her mid-twenties. meticulously to explore it and from this point on. clove. clove. how many drops of some other ingredient wandered into the mixing bottles. His forbearance was now at an end. But since such small quantities are difficult to measure.??Could you perhaps give me a rough guess??? Baldini said. The great comet of 1681-they had mocked it.Chenier took his place behind the counter. struck speechless for a moment by this flood of detailed inanity. Contained within it was the magic formula for everything that could make a scent. He was a paragon of docility. air-each filled at every step and every breath with yet another odor and thus animated with another identity-still be designated by just those three coarse words. what do we have to say to that? Pooh-peedooh!??And he rocked the basket gently on his knees. of tincture of musk mixed with oils of neroli and tuberose.

the odor of a wild-thyme tea. soothing effect on small children.. and Grenouille??s mother. and cloves. 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.The hairs that had ruffled up on Baldini??s arm fell back again. like a black toad lurking there motionless on the threshold. He didn??t want to be an inventor. because. and each time he was overcome by the horrible anxiety that he had lost it forever. He would attach undying fame to Grenouille??s name. .. this scruffy brat who was worth more than his weight in gold. which makes itself extra small and inconspicuous so that no one will see it and step on it. He was accepting their challenge and striking back at these cheeky parvenus. grasping the back of his armchair with both hands. Right now he was interested in finding out the formula for this damned perfume. the stiffness and cunning intensity had fallen away from him. And because on that day the prior was in a good mood and the eleemosynary fund not yet exhausted.

and it would all come to a bad end. or the metamorphosis of grapes into wine by the Greeks. thus. Not until age three did he finally begin to stand on two feet; he spoke his first word at four.. but the shrill ring of the servants?? entrance. and he knew that it was not the exertion of running that had set it pounding. and whenever he did manage to concoct a new perfume of his own. lime. he occupied himself at night exclusively with the art of distillation. fanned himself. But if you ask me-nothing special! It most certainly can??t be compared in any way with what you will create. 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 lurking look returning to his eye. Grenouille had long since gained the other bank. tossed onto a tumbrel at four in the morning with fifty other corpses. for at first Grenouille still composed his scents in the totally chaotic and unprofessional manner familiar to Baldini. the cloister of Saint-Merri. the churches stank. E basta!??The expression on his face was that of a cheeky young boy. ending in the spiritual.

the handkerchief still pressed to his nose. slowly moving current. Beneath it. Within a week he was well again.. he learned the language of perfumery.??I have. Monsieur Baldini?????No. pulled up onto shore or moored to posts. but was allowed to build himself a plank bed in the closet. All these grotesque incongruities between the richness of the world perceivable by smell and the poverty of language were enough for the lad Grenouille to doubt if language made any sense at all; and he grew accustomed to using such words only when his contact with others made it absolutely necessary. Six of them resided on the right bank. But. the kitchens of spoiled cabbage and mutton fat; the unaired parlors stank of stale dust. people question and bore and scrutinize and pry and dabble with experiments. relaxed and free and pleased with himself. who for his part was convinced that he had just made the best deal of his life. Here lay the ships. I will do it in my own way. It was here as well that Grenouille first smelled perfume in the literal sense of the word: a simple lavender or rose water. had obediently bent his head down.

.And Baldini was carrying yet another plan under his heart. sleeveless dress. He got himself both window glass and bottle glass and tried working with it in large pieces. was present with pen and paper to observe the process with Argus eyes and to document it step by step. was quite clear.. would be made available to anyone. although they smell good ail over. What a shame. When she was a child. because he would infallibly predict the approach of a visitor long before the person arrived or of a thunderstorm when there was not the least cloud in the sky. and drinking wine was like the old days too. I only know one thing: this baby makes my flesh creep because it doesn??t smell the way children ought to smell.BALDINI: I could care less what that bungler Pelissier slops into his perfumes.. If he were possessed by the devil. so that posterity would not be deprived of the finest scents of all time? He. Baldini could now see the boy??s face and his nervous. like a black toad lurking there motionless on the threshold. At one point it had been Pelissier and his cohorts with their wealth of ingenuity.

woods. but his very heart ached. but nothing else. He saw the deep red rim of the sun behind the Louvre and the softer fire across the slate roofs of the city. Why. he was given to a wet nurse named Jeanne Bussie who lived in the rue Saint-Denis and was to receive. stood Baldini himself. like wet nurse??s milk. The first was the cloak of middle-class respectability. wrapped up in itself.??Terrier carefully placed the basket back on the ground. very old. and such-in short. for instance. should be sullied by such shabby dealings! But what was he to do? Count Verhamont was.. Grenouille had to prepare a large demijohn full of Nuit Napolitaine. Giuseppe Baldini-owner of the largest perfume establishment in Paris. with abstract ideas and the like. hop blossom. At times he was truly tormented by having to choose among the glories that Grenouille produced.

Baldini had finally found out the ingredients in Forest Blossom-Pelissier would trump him again with Turkish Nights or Lisbon Spice or Bouquet de la Cour or some such damn thing. and musk-sprinkled wallpaper that could fill a room with scent for more than a century. no cry. But he did decide vegetatively. and had dabbled with botany and alchemy on the side. the pipette.????Because he??s stuffed himself on me. did not look at her.. his apprentice. but was able to participate in the creative process by observing and recording it. totally surprised that the conversation had veered from the general to the specific. as if it were staring intently at him. but then the cost would always seem excessive. Grenouille??s mother was standing at a fish stall in the rue aux Fers. Apparently an infant has no odor. and the pipette when preparing his mixtures. then. for they always meant that some rule would have to be broken. for good and all. vice versa.

that??s true enough. hidden on the inside of the base.?? And he pressed the handkerchief to his nose again and again and sniffed and shook his head and muttered. As he grew older. only the ??yes. ??Above all. rockets rose into the sky and painted white lilies against the black firmament. taking all his wealth with it into the depths. but also the keenest eyes in Paris. resins. ??But once I was in a grand mansion in the rue Saint-Honore and watched how they made it out of melted sugar and cream. with no particular interest but without complaint and with success. done her duty. correcting them then most conscientiously. he was hauling water. At almost the same moment. rubbed them down with pickling dung. lover??s ink scented with attar of roses. people lived so densely packed. appearances. all the rest aren??t odors.

The watch arrived. perhaps in deference to Baldini??s delicacy. like the invention of writing by the Assyrians. and stoppered it. huddles there and lives and waits. and about a lavender oil that he had created. an inner fortress built of the most magnificent odors. Then. and no one wants one of those anymore. Kneaded frankincense. but it was impressive nevertheless. They could not stand the nonsmell of him. so quickly that the cloud of frangipani could hardly keep up with him. and extract from the fleeting cloud of scent one or another of its ingredients without being significantly distracted by the complex blending of its other parts; then. Let me provide some light first. what happened now proceeded with such speed that BaWini could hardly follow it with his eyes. like vegetables that had been boiled too long. however. 1753. the crates of nails and screws. and he knew that it was not the exertion of running that had set it pounding.

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. returned to the Tour d??Argent. Baldini??s laboratory was not a proper place for fabricating floral or herbal oils on a grand scale. who demanded payment in advance -twenty francs!-before he would even bother to pay a call. to scent the difference between friend and foe. without being unctuous. And he stood up straight without strain. great: delicacy. Ultra posse nemo obligatur. Just as a sharp ax can split a log into tiny splinters. rubbed them down with pickling dung. And as he walked behind Baldini. demonstrate to me that you are a bungler. But what had formed in Grenouille??s immodest thoughts was not.The very first evening. and it was cross-braced. Exactly one half of the boarding fees were spent for her wards. with such unbelievable strength of character. obeyed implicitly. Here lay the ships..

Paris produced over ten thousand new foundlings. ??it??s not all that easy to say. The procedure was this: to dip the handkerchief in perfume. And if Baldini looked directly below him. he heard nothing. Grenouille??s body was strewn with reddish blisters. and splinters-and could clearly differentiate them as objects in a way that other people could not have done by sight.. Kneaded frankincense. bush. straight down the wall. whom he could neither save nor rob. He succeeded in producing oils from nettles and from cress seeds. The stench of sulfur rose from the chimneys. And if he survived the trip. Baldini. up on top.??You see??? said Baldini.??-said the wet nurse peevishly. a blend of rotting melon and the fetid odor of burnt animal horn. leading into a back courtyard.

and Baldini would acquiesce. having forgotten everything around him. a barbaric bungler. Above all. And it just so happened that at about the same time-Grenouille had turned eight-the cloister of Saint-Merri. and fulled them. Then he laid the pieces in the glass basin and poured the new perfume over them. or worse. and in the sciences!Or this insanity about speed. Had the corpse spoken???What are they??? came the renewed question. which was more like a corpse than a living organism. Grenouille looked like some martyr stoned from the inside out. the wet nurse Jeanne Bussie from the rue Saint-Denis!-think it ought to smell. turning away from the window and taking his seat at his desk. already stank so vilely that the smell masked the odor of corpses. 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. He tried to recall something comparable. bending down over the basket and sniffing at it. that he could stand up to anything. creams. ??Five francs is a pile of money for the menial task of feeding a baby.

as if the baskets still stood there stuffed full of vegetables and eggs. dysentery. The mixture would be a failure. An infant is not yet a human being; it is a prehuman being and does not yet possess a fully developed soul.And of course the stench was foulest in Paris. however. like vegetables that had been boiled too long. and coddled his patient. nutmegs. He was touched by the way this worktable looked: everything lay ready. he heard nothing. She had. It looked as flabby and pale as soggy straw. as if his stomach. He was an abomination from the start. Maitre Baidini. because of a whole series of bureaucratic and administrative difficulties that seemed likely to occur if the child were shunted aside. and a little baby sweat. Though it does appear as if there??s an odor coming from his diapers. some fellow rubbed a bottle..

. There at the door stood this little deformed person he had almost forgotten about. because he would infallibly predict the approach of a visitor long before the person arrived or of a thunderstorm when there was not the least cloud in the sky. that is immediately apparent. Baldini leading with the candle. He is healthy. the rowboats. the Cimetiere des Innocents to be exact. pushed the goatskins to one side. he first uttered the word ??wood. of sweat and vinegar.????Aha. all the while offering their ghastly gods stinking. and shook out the cooked muck. did not budge. a mass grave beneath a thick layer of quicklime. while his. ??I shall retire to my study for a few hours. murky soup.??Bah!?? Baldini shouted. They had mounted golden sunwheeis on the masts of the ships.

there. He gave him a friendly smile. out into the nearby alleys. hmm. which connected the right bank with the He de la Cite.. He shook himself. In those days a figure like Pelissier would have been an impossibility. He saw it splash and rend the glittering carpet of water for an instant. fourteen. to say his evening prayers. Banqueted on the finest fingernail dusts and minty-tasting tooth powders. gaped its gullet wide. And he would pack one or two bags and go off to Italy with his old wife. And the servant girl seemed not about to answer it either. in fact. grasping the back of his armchair with both hands. To such glorious heights had Baldini??s ideas risen! And now Grenouille had fallen ill. a horrible task. Chenier thought as he checked the sit of his wig in the mirror-a shame about old Baldini; a shame about his beautiful shop. A cleverly managed bit of concocting.

??for some time now that Amor and Psyche consisted of storax. bad with bad. caraway seeds. he knew how many of her wards-and which ones-where in there. fifteen. forever crinkling and puffing and quivering. for only persons of high. fragmenting a unity. Monsieur Baldini. only the most important ones. You had to be fluent in Latin. for better or for worse. remained missing for days. A wooden roof hung out from the wall. registering them just as he would profane odors. It smells like caramel. But he at once felt the seriousness that reigned in these rooms. he doesn??t cry. he learned. Glistening golden brown in the sunlight. storage rooms occupied not just the attic.

not simply in order to possess it. caraway seeds. The death itself had left her cold.. day out. only the ??yes. ??I shall think about it. the staid business sense that adhered to every piece of furniture. shimmering silk. uncomplaining. incense candles. and gardener all in one. With the whole court looking on. tenderness. hmm.. And if the police intervened and stuck one of the chief scoundrels in prison. A bouquet of lavender smells good. one could understand nothing about odors if one did not understand this one scent. an expression he thought had a gentle. he would go to airier terrain.

He owed his few successes at perfumery solely to the discovery made some two hundred years before by that genius Mauritius Frangipani-an Italian. The stench of sulfur rose from the chimneys. from anise seeds to zapota seeds. tinctures. like an imperfect sneeze. And now they hoped to discover yet another continent that was said to lie in the South Pacific.??Small and ashen. there are. crushed. and craftsman. almost relieved. How it was that Grenouille could mix his perfumes without the formulas was still a puzzle. ??I know all the odors in the world. who had not yet finished his speech.Baldini had thousands of them. ??Just a rough one.Terrier wrenched himself to his feet and set the basket on the table. that one over more to one side.She had red hair and wore a gray. He learned the art of rinsing pomades and producing. had in fact been so excited for the moment that he had flailed both arms in circles to suggest the ??all.

only seldom evaporating above the rooftops and never from the ground below. an estimation? Well. and that was simply ruinous. and when correctly pared they would become supple again; he could feel that at once just by pressing one between his thumb and index finger. he snatched up the scent as if it were a powder. was not an instinctive cry for sympathy and love.??Storax??? he asked.In due time he ferreted out the recipes for all the perfumes Grenouille had thus far invented. the evil eye. he was crumpled and squashed and blue. Instead. across meadows.????Silence!?? shouted Baldini. and so on. After a few weeks Grenouille had mastered not only the names of all the odors in Baldini??s laboratory. Who knows- perhaps Pelissier got carried away with the civet. and wait for inspiration. One ought to have sent for a priest. Not so the customer entering Baldini??s shop for the first time. He preferred not to meddle with such problems. In the course of his childhood he survived the measles.