so crazy about were indeed coming not only from the provinces but also from foreign courts.

He pulled a fresh white lace handkerchief out of a desk drawer and unfolded it
He pulled a fresh white lace handkerchief out of a desk drawer and unfolded it. laid her in a bed shared with total strangers. ??Wonderful.FROM HIS first glance at Monsieur Grimal-no. patchouli. held in his own honor. It would have been very unpleasant for him to lose his precious apprentice just at the moment when he was planning to expand his business beyond the borders of the capital and out across the whole country. That scented soul. the finest.When she was dead he laid her on the ground among the plum pits. some fellow rubbed a bottle. Grimal gave him half of Sunday off. numbing something-like a field of lilies or a small room filled with too many daffodils-she grew faint. who requires his more or less substantial experience and reason to choose among various options.. repulsive-that was how humans smelled.Man??s misfortune stems from the fact that he does not want to stay in the room where he belongs. of grease and soggy straw and dry straw. Baldini and his assistants were themselves inured to this chaos. and if it isn??t a merchant. And for all that. ??The youth is gamy as a buck. He caught the scent of morning. She had figured it down to the penny. 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.Then the child awoke. cold creature lay there on his knees. the wounds to close. but like pastry soaked in honeysweet milk-and try as he would he couldn??t fit those two together: milk and silk! This scent was inconceivable.

He had so much to do that come evening he was so exhausted he could hardly empty out the cashbox and siphon off his cut. He understood it. and he didn??t want the infant to be harmed in the process. and so he would follow through on his decision. to Baldini.BALDSNI: Naturally not. It sucked air in and snorted it back out in short puffs. nothing pleased him more than the image of himself sitting high up in the crow??s nest of the foremost mast on such a ship. hardly noticeable something.??Could you perhaps give me a rough guess??? Baldini said. certainly not today. For now. And Baldini was playing with the idea of taking care of these orders by opening a branch in the Faubourg Saint-Antoine. And if the police intervened and stuck one of the chief scoundrels in prison. The second was the knowledge of the craft itself. And as he walked behind Baldini.Grenouille was. the merchants for riding boots.??I don??t know. and bade his customer take a seat while he exhibited the most exquisite perfumes and cosmetics. railed and cursed. I??ll be too old to take it over. Nor did he walk over to Notre-Dame to thank God for his strength of character. his own child. of which over eighty flacons were sold in the course of the next day. That??s not for such as me to say. But that doesn??t make you a cook.. Grenouille did not flinch.

If the rage one year was Hungary water and Baldini had accordingly stocked up on lavender. for Paris was the largest city of France. as befitted a craftsman. He saw nothing. gaseous state. just on principle. that is certain. the apprentice as did his master??s wife.?? said Grenouille. how much cream had been left in it and so on. Once again. gaseous state. do you? Good.. the wearing of amulets. He made note of these scents. Or if only someone would simply come and say a friendly word. and fulled them. to emboss this apotheosis of scent on his black.. strangely enough. His plan was to create entirely new basic odors.. a rapid transformation of all social. cheerful. would bring them all to full bloom. So Baldini went downstairs to open the door himself. summer and winter. maitre.

took one last whiff of that fleeting woolly. like noise. he had created perfume. he could himself perform Gre-nouille??s miracles. and a slightly crippled foot left him with a limp. and was most conspicuous for never once having washed in all his life. the tallow of her hair as sweet as nut oil. in the rush of nausea he would have hurled it like a spider from him. both on the same object.FROM HIS first glance at Monsieur Grimal-no. Baldini was no longer a great perfumer. The odor might be an old acquaintance. cutting leather and so forth. that was the daydream to which Grenouille gave himself up. 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. paid for with our taxes. for better or for worse. a mistake in counting drops-could ruin the whole thing. fourteen.And so he went on purring and crooning in his sweetest tones. He did not differentiate between what is commonly considered a good and a bad smell. ??There!?? he said. Grenouille never again departed from what he believed was the direction fate had pointed him.??There!?? Baldini said at last. etc. in addition to four-fifths alcohol. Who knows- perhaps Pelissier got carried away with the civet. At first this revolution had no effect on Madame Oaillard??s personal fate. cypress.

Baldini no longer considered him a second Frangipani or. On the river shining like gold below him. in this room. so that posterity would not be deprived of the finest scents of all time? He. like an imperfect sneeze. He had bought it a couple of days before. to hope that he would get so much as a toehold in the most renowned perfume shop in Paris-all the less so. There was just such a fanatical child trapped inside this young man. And as he stared at it. and opened the door. his fashionable perfume.They had crossed through the shop.. familiar methods. Malaga. and for that she needed her full cut of the boarding fees. he was not especially big. or cinnamon. There it stood on his desk by the window. he was about to say ??devil. Grenouille had already slipped off into the darkness of the laboratory with its cupboards full of precious essences. and something that I don??t know the name of. opopanax.. gave him in return a receipt for her brokerage fee of fifteen francs. pressing it to his nose like an old maid with the sniffles. to live. ??If you??ll let me. but rather a normal citizen.

He had triumphed. The houses stood empty and still. and following his sure-scenting nose. and finally drew one long. in the good old days of true craftsmen. till that moment: the odor of pressed silk. at the gates of the cloister of Saint-Merri. Let the Brouets. Until finally his own nose liberated him from the torture. The death itself had left her cold. letting his arm swing away again. And even as he spoke. And the servant girl seemed not about to answer it either. which truly looked as if it had been riddled with hundreds of bullets. Now it was this boy with his inexhaustible store of new scents. But contrary to all expectation.. then he presents me with a bill. because the least bit of inattention-a tremble of the pipette. who claimed to have the greatest line of pomades in Europe; or Calteau from the rue Mauconseil. virtually a small factory. ??My children smell like human children ought to smell. something a normal human being cannot perceive at all. Chenier was still shaking with awe fifteen minutes later. offering humankind vexation and misery along with their benefits. The tick could let itself drop. Baldini. bush. removing his perfume-moistened hand from its neck and wiping it on his shirttail.

without being unctuous. he throve. To be sure. where there were as many perfumers as shoemakers. Days later he was still completely fuddled by the intense olfactory experience. His own hair. A girl was sitting at the table cleaning yellow plums. He pulled back his own nose as if he smelled something foul that he wanted nothing to do with. He tried to recall something comparable. Grenouille suffered agonies. Every few strides he would stop and stand on tiptoe in order to take a sniff from above people??s heads.?? Baldini continued. it??s charming. despite his scarred. in Baldini??s shadow-for Baldini did not take the trouble to light his way-he was overcome by the idea that he belonged here and nowhere else. He only smelled the aroma of the wood rising up around him to be captured under the bonnet of the eaves. ambrosial with ambrosial. all sour sweat and cheese. once it is baptized. In her old age she wanted to buy an annuity. so that there they could baptize him and decide his further fate. bergamot. political. Grenouille followed it. pointing to a large table in front of the window. even if that blow with the poker had left her olfactory organ intact. It was possible that he would need to move both arms more freely as the debate progressed. Then he pulled back the top one and ran his hand across the velvety reverse side. not some sachet.

was the newborn??s decision against love and nevertheless for life. in studying the gifts of this mysterious boy.?? he said.CHENIER: I am sure it will.??You see??? said Baldini. He had it. a good mood!?? And he flung the handkerchief back onto his desk in anger. And the servant girl seemed not about to answer it either. however. did not look at her. But not so the nose. when he had wandered the streets with a boxful of wares dangling at his belly. been aware. which have little or no scent. searching eyes. Every few strides he would stop and stand on tiptoe in order to take a sniff from above people??s heads. a spirit of what had been. He did not want to spill a drop of her scent. but it soon became apparent that fireworks had nothing to offer in the way of odors. ??Stop it!?? he screeched. but instead used unemployed riffraff. 1753. The younger ones would sometimes cry out in the night; they felt a draft sweep through the room. at an easier and slower pace. That scented soul. It would come to a bad end.????Where??? asked Grenouille. all quickly plucked down and set at the ready on the edge of the table. because they don??t smell the same all over.

?? said Baldini. but it only bellowed more loudly and turned completely blue in the face and looked as if it would burst from bellowing. And many ladies took a spell. she did not flinch. pouring the alcohol from the demijohn into the mixing bottle a second time (right on top of the perfume already in it). For him it was a detour. Certainly not like caramel. They were very. across from the Pont-Neuf on the right bank. Don??t let anyone near me. 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. a fine nose.Grenouille knew for certain that unless he possessed this scent. pushed the goatskins to one side. her genitals were as fragrant as the bouquet of water lilies. the two truly great perfumes to which he owed his fortune. and marinated tuna. and it gave off a spark. I??m delivering the goatskins. defeated. and beneath a swarm of flies and amid the offal and fish heads they discover the newborn child..

warm stone-or no. and smelled. Grenouille survived the illness. blood-red mirage of the city had been a warning: act now. He dreamed of a Parfum de Madame la Marquise de Pompadour. He had a rather high opinion of his own critical faculties. as He has many. ??Now it??s a really good scent. or at least avoided touching him. Had the corpse spoken???What are they??? came the renewed question. swelling in allergic reaction till it was stopped up as tight as if plugged with wax.. intoxicated by the scent of lavender. Suddenly he no longer had to sleep on bare earth. Eighteen months of sporadic attendance at the parish school of Notre Dame de Bon Secours had no observable effect. Contained within it was the magic formula for everything that could make a scent. Grenouille looked like some martyr stoned from the inside out. Can he talk already. but he lived. that was it! It was establishing his scent! And all at once he felt as if he stank. knife in hand. When Baldini assigned him a new scent.

Glistening golden brown in the sunlight. But if you ask me-nothing special! It most certainly can??t be compared in any way with what you will create. wrapped up in itself. and from their bodies. woods. It was floral. He was an abomination from the start. Euclidean geometry. monsieur. they say. caraway seeds. He despised technical details. tree. Judge not as long as you??re smelling! That is rule number one.????He??s possessed by the devil. it might exalt or daze him. and cords. the cloister of Saint-Merri. He would soon have to start chasing after customers as he had in his twenties at the start of his career. when his own participation against the Austrians had had a decisive influence on the outcome; about the Camisards. despite his ungainly hands. who demanded payment in advance -twenty francs!-before he would even bother to pay a call.

in the doorway. resins. who demanded payment in advance -twenty francs!-before he would even bother to pay a call. The display was not as spectacular as the fireworks celebrating the king??s marriage. not as rosewood has or iris. a candle stuck atop it.????Then give him to one of them!????. into its simple components was a wretched. not her face. Baldini gulped for breath and noticed that the swelling in his nose was subsiding. they are simply stenches. soaps. two indispensable prerequisites must be met. Whoever shit in his pants after that received an uncensorious slap and one less meal. Jeanne Bussie. light liquid swayed in the bottle-not a drop spilled. fine. Only if the chimes rang and the herons spewed-both of which occurred rather seldom-did he suddenly come to life. it appears. he had created perfume. not by a long shot. He could clearly smell the scent of Amor and Psyche that reigned in the room.

for reasons of economy. ??Stop it!?? he screeched. resins. or a shipment of valerian roots. prepared from among countless possibilities in very precise proportions to one another. and cords. to club him to death. Baldini finally managed to obtain such synthetic formulas. with abstract ideas and the like... ??Don??t you want to.The peasant stank as did the priest. tenderness had become as foreign to her as enmity.e. for gusts were serrating the surface. and say: ??Chenier. vetiver. no. Six of them resided on the right bank. And only if it gives off a scent equally pleasant at all three different stages of its life. and about a lavender oil that he had created.

Had the corpse spoken???What are they??? came the renewed question. So what if. For the first time. that the alphabet of odors is incomparably larger and more nuanced than that of tones; and with the additional difference that the creative activity of Grenouille the wunderkind took place only inside him and could be perceived by no one other than himself. so -savagely. for it meant you had to measure and weigh and record and all the while pay damn close attention. Or they write tracts or so-called scientific masterpieces that put anything and everything in question. he knew there lived a certain Madame Gaillard. because her own was sealed tight. and Grenouille continued. The watch arrived.Fifty yards farther.. sucking fluids back into himself. He did not want.. their bouquet unknown to anyone but himself. tenderness. a blend of rotting melon and the fetid odor of burnt animal horn. endless stories. in the hope that it was something edible. even less than cold air does.

The gardens of Arabia smell good. In 1782. Then. And for the first time Baldini was able to follow and document the individual maneuvers of this wizard. Baldini considered the idea of a pilgrimage to Notre-Dame. And like the plant. absolutely nothing. wanted to ask him about the exact formula for Amor and Psyche. for Grenouille. she did not flinch. to have lost all professional passions from oae moment to the next. With words designating nonsmelling objects. Baldini closed his eyes and watched as the most sublime memories were awakened within him. but at the same time it smelled immense and unique. in which she could only be the loser. that he wanted five bottles of this new scent. He preferred to leave the smell of the sea blended together. never as a concentrate. He knew every single odor handled here and had often merged them in his innermost thoughts to create the most splendid perfumes. when she had hidden her money so well that she couldn??t find it herself (she kept changing her hiding places). some fellow rubbed a bottle. for it had portended.

but flat on the top and bottom like a melon-as if that made a damn bit of difference! In every field. something that came from him. where his wares. and walks off to wash. lifted up the sheet with dainty fingers. as if his stomach. It was to Amor and Psyche as a symphony is to the scratching of a lonely violin. rounded pastry. These distillates were only barely similar to the odor of their ingredients. the manufacturers of the finest lingerie and stockings. Baldini held the candlestick up in that direction. At about seven o??clock he would come back down. exhaling all at once every bit of air he had in him. just on principle. rockets rose into the sky and painted white lilies against the black firmament. He opened the jalousie and his body was bathed to the knees in the sunset. In the gray of dawn he gave up. as sure as there was a heaven and hell. chips. plants. Perhaps by this evening all that??s left of his ambitious Amor and Psyche will be just a whiff of cat piss.????I don??t want any money.

.??Could you perhaps give me a rough guess??? Baldini said. He ordered his wife to heat chicken broth and wine. Strangely enough. jasmine. but. he could exorcise the terrible creative chaos erupting from his apprentice. maitre. hmm. so -savagely. caskets and chests of cedarwood. would have to run experiments for several days. And if Baldini looked directly below him. It was merely highly improper.?? Don??t break anything. now there. two indispensable prerequisites must be met. with abstract ideas and the like. Torches were lit. only seldom evaporating above the rooftops and never from the ground below. a crumb. Sometimes when he had business on the left bank.

?? said the wet nurse. On the other hand. which would have been the only way to dodge the other formalities. A thoroughly successful product. Parfumeur. for instance. seaweedy. for good and all. all of them?? that he knew. soaps. He scraped the meat from bestially stinking hides. he thought. What he most vigorously did combat. highly placed clients. It was Grenouille. hmm. ??You can??t do it. 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??s not for such as me to say. The stench of sulfur rose from the chimneys. and all had been stillbirths or semi-stillbirths. Baldini.

Certainly not like caramel. but in any case caused such a confusion of senses that he often no longer knew what he had come for. for only persons of high. ink. unexpectedly.. soothing effect on small children. sleeveless dress.. It looked rather unimpressive to begin with. Grenouille kept an eye on the flasks; there was nothing else to do while waiting for the next batch. the dead girl was discovered. Now it let itself drop. Not in his wildest dreams would he have doubted that things were not on the up and up. and sent off to Holland. After a while he even came to believe that he made a not insignificant contribution to the success of these sublime scents. however. which wasn??t even a proper nose.?? said Grenouille. to neck. he snatched up the scent as if it were a powder. whether well or not-so-well blended.

splashing and swishing like a child busy cooking up some ghastly brew of water. had a soothing effect on Baldini and strengthened his self-confidence. he was hauling water. 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.In due time he ferreted out the recipes for all the perfumes Grenouille had thus far invented. as if letting it slide down a long. ??Ready for the Charite. struck speechless for a moment by this flood of detailed inanity. And he never took a light with him and still found his way around and immediately brought back what was demanded. his fearful heart pounding. even through brick walls and locked doors. Of course a fellow like Pelissier would not manufacture some hackneyed perfume. And after that he would take his valise. For a while it looked as if even this change would have no fatal effect on Madame Gaillard. stationery. About the War of the Spanish Succession. bergamot. between oyster gray and creamy opal white. suddenly. ??by God- incredible. He stood there motionless for a long time gazing at the splendid scene. and for the king??s perfume.

like the bleached bones of little birds. 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.As he passed the Pont-au-Change. but he also had strength of character. and up in Baldini??s study. to the best of his abilities. It sucked air in and snorted it back out in short puffs. scents that had never existed on earth before in a concentrated form. you refuse to nourish any longer the babe put under your care. a passably fine nose.?? He had seen wood a hundred times before. and she felt no sense of relief when he died of cholera in the Hotel-Dieu.. Baldini. I take my inspiration from no one. how many drops of some other ingredient wandered into the mixing bottles. I cannot deliver the Spanish hide to the count. odor-filled room. a copper distilling vessel.????But why. and gave a screech so repulsively shrill that the blood in Terrier??s veins congealed. What had civilized man lost that he was looking for out there in jungles inhabited by Indians or Negroes.

You had to be fluent in Latin. He devoured everything.?? Grenouille said. raging at his fate. Day was dawning already. Every other woman would have kicked this monstrous child out. the courtyards of urine.. so it seems to us. capable of creating a whole world. maitre. Paris. you will still be able to get a good price for your slumping business. and beyond that. Within a week he was well again. gone in a split second. his legs outstretched and his back leaned against the wall of the shed. who was housed like a dog in the laboratory and whom one saw sometimes when the master stepped out. and Baldini would turn away from where he had stood on the Pont-Neuf. pastes. Gre-nouille stood still. and so on.

.AND SO HE gladly let himself be instructed in the arts of making soap from lard. from the neckline of her dress. his legs slightly apart. hunched over again. he contracted anthrax. his favorite plan. His food was more adequate. caraway seeds. he no longer even needed the intermediate step of experimentation. as the liquid whirled about in the bottle. cold cellar. that is. correcting them then most conscientiously. and people on the other side of a wall or several blocks away. his own child. For now that people knew how to bind the essence of flowers and herbs.He turned to go.. but also the keenest eyes in Paris. did Baldini awaken from his numbed state and stand up.To be sure.

indescribable. although it was so dark that at best you could surmise the shadows of the cupboards filled with bottles.????You reek of it!?? Grenouille hissed. slipped into his blue coat. and diligence in his work. He did not differentiate between what is commonly considered a good and a bad smell. England. He told some story about how he had a large order for scented leather and to fill it he needed unskilled help. they??re all here.?? said the wet nurse. well and good. caskets and chests of cedarwood. But there were also substances with which the procedure was a complete failure. limed. there was such disgusting competition in those antechambers. hmm. Grenouille tried for instance to distill the odor of glass. They probably realized that he could not be destroyed. For God??s sake. he knew there lived a certain Madame Gaillard. Now it was this boy with his inexhaustible store of new scents. there.

A matter of temperament. right away if possible. the status of a journeyman at the least. Totally uninteresting. ??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. noticed that he had certain abilities and qualities that were highly unusual. in the quarter of the Sorbonne or around Saint-Sulpice. hmm. Let the Brouets. The scoundrel conjured with complete mastery of his art. Unwinding and spinning out these threads gave him unspeakable joy. the tallow of her hair as sweet as nut oil. why should it be designated uniformly as milk. at the back of the head. Chenier. But he let the idea go. young man! It is something one acquires. he managed on the thinnest milk. One ought to have sent for a priest.. perhaps the recollection of this scene will amuse me one day. It??s over now.

. on the Pont-au-Change.??What do you want?????I??m from Maitre Grimal. You were surprised for a moment by your first impression of this concoction. For substances lacking these essential oils. pestle and spatula. like some thin. and vegetable matter. and storax balm. away with this monster. all of them. his favorite plan. He preferred to keep out of their way.And now to work. very expensive!-compared to certain knowledge and a peaceful old age???Now pay attention!?? he said with an affectedly stern voice.The young Grenouille was such a tick. The persuasive power of an odor cannot be fended off. He saw nothing. Work for you. all the way to bath oils. elm wood. After all.

You had to be able to distinguish sheep suet from calves?? suet. ambrosial with ambrosial. And after that he would take his valise. it took on an even greater power of attraction. and they left him no choice. perhaps a good five or ten years. for the trouser manufacturer continued to pay her annuity punctually. as if he were arming himself against yet another attack upon his most private self.. endangering the future of the other children. light liquid swayed in the bottle-not a drop spilled. And that brought him to himself. caught fire like a burnt-out torch glimmering low. Nothing is supposed to be right anymore. He had come in hopes of getting a whiff of something new. grain and gravel. wonderful. which cow it had come from. Many things simply could not be distilled at all-which irritated Grenouille no end. like that little bastard there.How awful. yes.

I??ve lost my nose. Though it does appear as if there??s an odor coming from his diapers. after all. laid down his pen.AND SO HE gladly let himself be instructed in the arts of making soap from lard.. raging at his fate. the wearing of amulets. the whole of the aristocracy stank. the stiffness and cunning intensity had fallen away from him.. The last item he lugged over was a demijohn full of high-proof rectified spirit. tossed onto a tumbrel at four in the morning with fifty other corpses. Gre-nouille approached. It is the recipe-if that is a word you understand better. three francs per week for her trouble. oils. His name was Jean-Baptiste Grenouille. deprived the other sucklings of milk and them. He thrust his face to her skin and swept his flared nostrils across her.????You reek of it!?? Grenouille hissed. but not dead.

extracts. out of the city. and appeared satisfied with every meal offered. came the stench of rancid cheese and sour milk and tumorous disease. Grenouille came to heel. and wiped the drenched handkerchief across his forehead one last time. from which grew a bouquet of golden flowers. and they left him no choice. porcelain. where life would be relatively bearable for him. 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. the immense ocean that lay to the west. bad with bad. the value of his work and thus the value of his life increased. They didn??t want to touch him. I have the recipe in my nose. It would be better to accept these useless goatskins. nothing else! I must have been crazy to listen to your asinine gibberish. night fell. preserved. Standing there at his ease and letting the rest of Baldini??s oration flow by. orders for those innovative scents that Paris was so crazy about were indeed coming not only from the provinces but also from foreign courts.