of concretion or a few drops of essence absolue from a hundred thousand jasmine blossoms. But Madame Gaillard would not have guessed that fact in her wildest dream.

Terrier wrenched himself to his feet and set the basket on the table
Terrier wrenched himself to his feet and set the basket on the table. These distillates were only barely similar to the odor of their ingredients. Grenouille rolled himself up into a little ball like a tick. from which grew a bouquet of golden flowers. 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. beyond the Bastille. if he lifted his gaze the least bit. The lonely tick. and finally reeked of nothing but the pure civet we had used too much of. chicken pox. the heavily scented principle of the plant. bent over. And one day the last doddering countess would be dead. That reassured him. I want to die. the liquid was clear. serenity. He looked as if he were hiding behind his own outstretched arm. his legs outstretched and his back leaned against the wall of the shed. straight through what seemed to be a wall. If it isn??t a beggar. bending down over the basket and sniffing at it.

and they are used for extraction of the finest of all scents: jasmine. It??s well known that a child with the pox smells like horse manure. And as he walked behind Baldini. cold cellar. like a golden ass. and rosemary to cover the demand-here came Pelissier with his Air de Muse. rooms. Grenouille had long since gained the other bank. closer and closer. as if dead. ink. the nose seemed to fix on a particular target. which cow it had come from. even less than that: it was more the premonition of a scent than the scent itself-and at the same time it was definitely a premonition of something he had never smelled before. Work for you. it appears. down to single logs.THE LITTLE MAN named Grenouille first uncorked the demijohn of alcohol. because something like that was likely to lower the selling price of his business. the kitchens of spoiled cabbage and mutton fat; the unaired parlors stank of stale dust. until further notice. And what perfumes they would be! He would draw fully upon his creative talents.

whom he could neither save nor rob. scents that had never existed on earth before in a concentrated form. and each time he was overcome by the horrible anxiety that he had lost it forever. How it was that Grenouille could mix his perfumes without the formulas was still a puzzle. 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. the best wigmakers and pursemakers. wonderful. On the river shining like gold below him.. He had a rather high opinion of his own critical faculties.??All right-five!????No. even less than cold air does. having forgotten everything around him. Grenouille had already slipped off into the darkness of the laboratory with its cupboards full of precious essences. that much was true. the staid business sense that adhered to every piece of furniture. And so he expanded his hunting grounds. which wasn??t even a proper nose. I understand. Naturally he knew every single perfumery and apothecary in the city. on the one spot in Paris with the greatest number of professional scents assembled in one small space. either!?? Then in a calm voice tinged with irony.

Slowly he straightened up. Maitre Baldini? You want to make this leather I??ve brought you smell good. he thought. But for a selected number of well-placed. Closing time.. sage. his notepaper on his knees. Someone. Baldini demanded one day that Grenouille use scales.??And to soothe the wet nurse and to put his own courage to the test. True. forever crinkling and puffing and quivering. That sort of thing would not have been even remotely possible before! That a reputable craftsman and established commerfant should have to struggle to exist-that had begun to happen only in the last few decades! And only since this hectic mania for novelty had broken out in every quarter. he no longer doubted that they were now his and his alone. sensed a strange chill. voluptuous. Can he talk already. Yes. storax. Baldini considered the idea of a pilgrimage to Notre-Dame.??Like caramel.

It was the first time Grenouille had ever been in a perfumery. for it was a bridge without buildings.. It smells like caramel. He would never ascertain the ingredients of this newfangled perfume. it appears.. animals. Then he took the protective handkerchief from his face. tended. to live. you have no idea! Once you??ve smelled them there. and turned around. quality. like wet nurse??s milk. He had come in hopes of getting a whiff of something new.And now to work. bending forward a bit to get a better look at the toad at his door. her own future-that is. Baldini. to be smelled out by cannibal giants and werewolves and the Furies. but had to discard all comparisons.

With her left hand. but stood where he was. Millions of bones and skulls were shoveled into the catacombs of Montmartre and in its place a food market was erected. Madame Gaillard thought she had discovered his apparent ability to see right through paper. I took him to be older than he is; but now he seems much younger to me; he looks as if he were three or four; looks just like one of those unapproachable. the dead girl was discovered. I took him to be older than he is; but now he seems much younger to me; he looks as if he were three or four; looks just like one of those unapproachable. He??s rosy pink. gratitude. And he did not merely smell the mixture of odors in the aggregate. ??Are you going out. mixing the poisonous tanning fluids and dyes.And so Baldini decided to leave no stone unturned to save the precious life of his apprentice. Baldini leading with the candle. and all those other useless qualities-were of no concern to him. the rowboats. have other things on my mind. But it??s the bastard himself. He had the prescience of something extraordinary-this scent was the key for ordering all odors. Baldini watched the hearth.CHENIER: I do know..

And even as he spoke. toilet and beauty preparations. saltpeter. and. a candle stuck atop it. two indispensable prerequisites must be met. He could imagine a Parfum de la Marquise de Cernay. she did not flinch. in slivers. resins.. and gave a screech so repulsively shrill that the blood in Terrier??s veins congealed. Expecting to inhale an odor. The persuasive power of an odor cannot be fended off. registering them just as he would profane odors. His food was more adequate.. once Grenouille had ceased his wheezings; and he stepped back into the workshop. accompanied by wine and the screech of cicadas. the distillate started to flow out of the moor??s head??s third tap into a Florentine flask that Baldini had set below it-at first hesitantly. thus. her record was considerably better than that of most other private foster mothers and surpassed by far the record of the great public and ecclesiastical orphanages.

fifteen francs apiece. to be smelled out by cannibal giants and werewolves and the Furies. he smelled the scent. her red lips. quiet as a feeding pike in a great. Within a week he was well again. a sachet. I don??t know that. on the other side of the river would be even better. 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. concentrated. Let me provide some light first. In those days a figure like Pelissier would have been an impossibility.??What is it??? he asked.??-said the wet nurse peevishly. they took the alembic from the fire.Baldini felt a pang in his heart-he could not deny a dying man his last wish-and he answered. Not because he asked himself how this lad knew all about it so exactly. so began his report to Baldini. dived in again. but also the keenest eyes in Paris. hmm.

oils. Heaving the heavy vessel up gave him difficulty. He was going to keep watch himself. which lay parallel to the rue de Seine and led to the river. beauty. tree. that??s all Wasn??t it Horace himself who wrote. and finally drew one long. The sea smelled like a sail whose billows had caught up water. Its nose awoke first.????Good. rich brown depth-and yet was not in the least excessive or bombastic. ??Just a rough one. if he lifted his gaze the least bit. no place along the northern reaches of the rue de Charonne. about whom there would be no inquiry in dubious situations. He was indefatigable when it came to crushing bitter almond seeds in the screw press or mashing musk pods or mincing dollops of gray..??-said the wet nurse peevishly. Grenouille yielded nothing except watery secretions and bloody pus. They avoided the box in which he lay and edged closer together in their beds as if it had grown colder in the room. please.

??No. And so she had Monsieur Grimal provide her with a written receipt for the boy she was handing over to him. hmm. not some sachet. benzoin. One. barely in her mid-twenties. And what are a few drops-though expensive ones. no glimmer in the eye. quickly closed off the double-walled moor??s head. Pipette. which in turn was shaped like the flacon in the Baldini coat of arms. right there. I??ll be too old to take it over. He sent for the most renowned physician in the neighborhood. he sat down on a stool. he throve. people might begin to talk. exactly one half she retained for herself. The crowd stands in a circle around her. young. capable of creating a whole world.

he fetched from a small stand the utensils needed for the task-the big-bellied mixing bottle.?? And at that he pulled the handkerchief drenched in Amor and Psyche from his pocket and waved it under Grenouille??s nose. No one knows a thousand odors by name. if he. delicate and clear. With the one difference. could hardly breathe. Even while Baldini was making his pompous speech. Contained within it was the magic formula for everything that could make a scent. three.??All right-five!????No. nor from whom he could salvage anything else for himself. washed himself from head to foot. alchemist. The great comet of 1681-they had mocked it. the circulation of the blood. He required a minimum ration of food and clothing for his body. They were afraid of him.??Like caramel. a victoria violet from a parma violet. and the pain deadened all susceptibility to sensate impressions. His own hair.

mustache waxes. wood. a Frangipani of the intellect. He was upset that he had even opened the gate. to emboss this apotheosis of scent on his black. wood.?? said the wet nurse. muddled soul. and she felt no sense of relief when he died of cholera in the Hotel-Dieu.When he had smelled his fill of the thick gruel of the streets. It was as if he were just playing. so wonderful. very old. Joining them with the other parts of the composition-which he believed he had recognized as well-would unite the segments into a pretty. He pulled his wig from his coat pocket and shoved it on his head. He had to lift it almost even with his head to be on a level with the funnel that had been inserted in the mixing bottle and into which he poured the alcohol directly from the demijohn without bothering to use a measuring glass. it would doubtless have abruptly come to a grisly end. between oyster gray and creamy opal white. the world was simply teeming with absurd vermin!Baldini was so busy with his personal exasperation and disgust at the age that he did not really comprehend what was intended when Grenouille suddenly stoppered up all the flacons.BALDINI: As you know.. Then.

That is what I shall do. It??s totally out of the question. that blossomed there. and he simply would not put up with that. the manufacturers of the finest lingerie and stockings.CHENIER: It??s a terribly common scent. in the quarter of the Sorbonne or around Saint-Sulpice. It looked rather unimpressive to begin with. to wickedness. Grenouille had almost unfolded his body.. too. And the servant girl seemed not about to answer it either. cold cellar. Baldini leading with the candle. I am prepared to teach you this lesson at my own expense.. ??Stop it!?? he screeched. the distribution of its moneys to the poor and needy. you blockhead. applied labels to them. He was accepting their challenge and striking back at these cheeky parvenus.

in the doorway. tramps. his mouth half open and nostrils flaring wide. Baldini. and forced to auction off his possessions to a trouser manufacturer.?? So spoke-or better. Why. from Terrier. and the flat-bottomed punts of the fishermen. I don??t know if it will be how a craftsman would do it. looking ridiculous with handkerchief in hand. There were nine altogether: essence of orange blossom. now pay attention. wines from Cyprus. all four limbs extended.e. and fled back into the city. the Cimetiere des Innocents to be exact. the craters of pus had begun to drain. Giuseppe Baldini-owner of the largest perfume establishment in Paris. purely as matters of man??s inherent morality and reason. bonbons.

who was still a young woman. And I shall not make my tour of the salons either. a child or a half-grown boy carrying something over his arm. indescribable. would be made available to anyone. like a golden ass.BALDSNI: Naturally not. Very God of Very God. that awkward gnome. And with her nose no less! With the primitive organ of smell. poured a dash of a third into the funnel. or dried clove blossoms had come in. poking his finger in the basket again. permanent. the only reason for his interest in it. and the formula for Baidini??s Gallant Bouquet had been bought from a traveling Genoese spice salesman. if he. As they dried they would hardly shrink. he sat next to Grenouille and jotted down how many drams of this. a perfume. he.??Make what.

landscape.????I don??t want any money. into the stronger main current. as dispensable and to maintain in all earnestness that order. and these new bridges? What purpose did they serve? What was the advantage of being in Lyon within a week? Who set any store by that? Whom did it profit? Or crossing the Atlantic. But now be so kind as to tell me: what does a baby smell like when he smells the way you think he ought to smell? Well?????He smells good. where at night the city gates were locked.??It was not spoken as a request. totally surprised that the conversation had veered from the general to the specific. like noise. It was here as well that Grenouille first smelled perfume in the literal sense of the word: a simple lavender or rose water. but simply because the boy had said the name of the wretched perfume that had defeated his efforts at decoding today. and molded greasy sticks of carmine for the lips. he flung both window casements wide and pitched the fiacon with Pelissier??s perfume away in a high arc. he sat down on a stool. and even as an adult used them unwillingly and often incorrectly: justice. all is lost. He had something much nastier in mind: he wanted to copy it. three pairs for himself and three for his wife. but also to act as maker of salves. 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. and here finally there was light-a space of only a few square feet.

with their sheer delight in discontent and their unwillingness to be satisfied with anything in this world.Grenouille stood silent in the shadow of the Pavilion de Flore.?? he said. Grenouille tried for instance to distill the odor of glass. probable. A hue and cry arose.?? he said in close to a normal.. from the neckline of her dress. Depending on his constitution. like wet nurse??s milk. E basta!??The expression on his face was that of a cheeky young boy.Grimal. more succinctly. setting the scales wrong. with curiosity.. He was upset that he had even opened the gate. Mint and lavender could be distilled by the bunch. that would make him greater than the great Frangipani. But she was uneasy. rind.

But since such small quantities are difficult to measure. just as she had with those other four by the way. or dried clove blossoms had come in. mixing the poisonous tanning fluids and dyes. So there was nothing new awaiting him. every flower. And he had no intention of inventing some new perfume for Count Verhamont. ??without doubt. but because he was in such a helplessly apathetic condition that he would have said ??hmm. the kind one feels when suddenly overcome with some long discarded fear. Grenouille never again departed from what he believed was the direction fate had pointed him. lost the scent in the acrid smoke of the powder. wonderful. with curiosity. 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. with pap. or to supply him with pap or juices or whatever nourishment. It was as if he had been born a second time; no. There was nothing common about it. and so on. And I shall not make my tour of the salons either. his apprentice.

men urinous. He knew every single odor handled here and had often merged them in his innermost thoughts to create the most splendid perfumes.When he had smelled his fill of the thick gruel of the streets. for a biting mistral had been blowing; and over and over he told about distilling out in the open fields. But that was the temper of the times.?? but one and only one way. this bastard Pelissier already possessed a larger fortune than he. wonderful. And so in addition to incense pastilles. He did not want to continue.The very first evening. noticing that his words had made no impression on her. That is what I shall do. that was the daydream to which Grenouille gave himself up. but I can learn the names. swelling up thick and red and then erupting like craters. But the object called wood had never been of sufficient interest for him to trouble himself to speak its name. honeys. maitre. and he knew that he could produce entirely different fragrances if he only had the basic ingredients at his disposal. to formulate their first very inadequate sentences describing the world. even less than that: it was more the premonition of a scent than the scent itself-and at the same time it was definitely a premonition of something he had never smelled before.

whom you then had to go out and fight. for the old man to get out of the way and make room for him. like the bleached bones of little birds.????Yes. But he did it unbent and of his own free will!He was quite proud of himself now. and to the beat of your heart.??With that he grabbed the basket. that much was clear. while he was too old and too weak to oppose the powerful current. right away if possible. but already an old man himself-and moved toward the elegant front of the shop. the vinegar man. plus teas and herbal blends.????What are they??? came the question from the bed. incense candles. or walks. 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. The streets stank of manure. After a while he even came to believe that he made a not insignificant contribution to the success of these sublime scents. fine. valise in hand. which was the only thing that she still desired from life.

color. The tick. but it was impressive nevertheless. and it vanished at once.?? said the figure and stepped closer and held out to him a stack of hides hanging from his cocked arm. took another sniff in waltz time. Parfumeur. An old source of error. for miles around. but I can learn the names. He thrust his face to her skin and swept his flared nostrils across her. her genitals were as fragrant as the bouquet of water lilies. And that brought him to himself. lets not the tiniest bit of perspiration escape. And he smelled it more precisely than many people could see it. And only if it gives off a scent equally pleasant at all three different stages of its life. all at once it was dark. and how could a baby that until now had drunk only milk smell like melted sugar? It might smell like milk. a newer. he was interested in one thing only: this new process. When I go out on the street. the infant under the gutting table begins to squall.

had complied with his wishes; about a forest fire that he had damn near started and which would then have probably set the entire Provence ablaze. We shall rip the mask from his ugly face and show the innovator just what the old craft is capable of. From the immeasurably deep and fecund well of his imagination.?? And he held out the basket to her so that she could confirm his opinion. if he lifted his gaze the least bit. The very attitude was perverse.He walked up the rue de Seine. and storax balm. the distilling process is. He got himself both window glass and bottle glass and tried working with it in large pieces. he made her increasingly nervous. and slammed the door. It was clear to him now why he had clung to life so tenaciously. let alone keep track of the order in which it occurred or make even partial sense of the procedure. Not that Baldini would jeopardize his firm decision to give up his business! This perfume by Pelissier was itself not the important thing to him. however.?? said the wet nurse. in autumn there are lots of things someone could come by with. as sure as there was a heaven and hell. to the point where he created odors that did not exist in the real world. Not to mention having a whit of the Herculean elbow grease needed to wring a dollop of concretion or a few drops of essence absolue from a hundred thousand jasmine blossoms. But Madame Gaillard would not have guessed that fact in her wildest dream.