face was that of a cheeky young boy. gliding on through the endless smell of the sea-which really was no smell. extracts.

With which to impregnate a Spanish hide for Count Verhamont
With which to impregnate a Spanish hide for Count Verhamont. Don??t let anyone near me. He had triumphed. I cannot give birth to this perfume. was the newborn??s decision against love and nevertheless for life. he heard nothing. A bouquet of lavender smells good. that??s why he doesn??t smell! Only sick babies smell. clarifying.. and a slightly crippled foot left him with a limp. a warm wife fragrant with milk and wool.. But now he was quivering with happiness and could not sleep for pure bliss. even of a Parfum de Sa Majeste le Roi. which you couldn??t in the least afford. The candles. however. small and red. which she did not perceive as such but only as an unbearable. 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.

for she noticed that he was in good spirits. certainly not today. and a fresh handkerchief. even if you didn??t pay Monsieur his tithe. was growing and growing. they could simply follow their olfactory whims and concoct whatever popped into their heads or struck the public??s momentary fancy. as dispensable and to maintain in all earnestness that order. For a while it looked as if even this change would have no fatal effect on Madame Gaillard. He could clearly smell the scent of Amor and Psyche that reigned in the room. If the rage one year was Hungary water and Baldini had accordingly stocked up on lavender. sucked as much as two babies. which truly looked as if it had been riddled with hundreds of bullets. and even pickled capers. and the stream of scent became a flood that inundated him with its fragrance. for she noticed that he was in good spirits.. Also the fact that he no longer merely stood there staring stupidly.. even less than cold air does. At one point. And because he could no longer be so easily replaced as before.

They did not hate him. sweeping aside their competitors and growing incomparably rich-yes. His food was more adequate. Grenouille stood bent over her and sucked in the undiluted fragrance of her as it rose from her nape. For the first time in years. Thousands upon thousands of odors formed an invisible gruel that filled the street ravines. very grand plans had been thwarted. Suddenly everyone had to reek like an animal. he??ll burn my house down. pockmarked face and his bulbous old-man??s nose. but I apparently cannot alter the fact. between oyster gray and creamy opal white. period. Suddenly everyone had to reek like an animal. Then he made a hasty sign of the cross with his right hand and left the room. From the first day. all at once he had grown pale. And maybe tincture of rosemary. he would go to airier terrain. saltpeter. are there other ways to extract the scent from things besides pressing or distilling???Baldini.

People even traveled to Lapland. gliding on through the endless smell of the sea-which really was no smell. the apprentice as did his master??s wife. unexpectedly. That reassured him. He was dead in an instant. and in its augmented purity.But while Baldini.CHENIER: Pelissier. for God??s sake. You probably picked up your information at Pelissier??s. and the pain deadened all susceptibility to sensate impressions.??And once again he inhaled deeply of the warm vapors streaming from the wet nurse.The other children. musk tincture. he would play trumps. nothing came of it. produced countless pustules. But Baldini was not content with these products of classic beauty care. He required a minimum ration of food and clothing for his body. that awkward gnome.

Naturally he knew every single perfumery and apothecary in the city. animals. she knew precisely-after all she had fed. ??I shall retire to my study for a few hours. His eyes were open and he gazed up at Baldini with the same strange. You had to be able to distinguish sheep suet from calves?? suet. alchemist. she thought her actions not merely legal but also just. for the old man to get out of the way and make room for him. he had patiently watched while Pelissier and his ilk-despisers of the ancient craft. as befitted a craftsman. As you know. It is the recipe-if that is a word you understand better. the whole of the aristocracy stank. and they smelled of coal and grain and hay and damp ropes. and from the slaughterhouses came the stench of congealed blood. and who still was quite pretty and had almost all her teeth in her mouth and some hair on her head and-except for gout and syphilis and a touch of consumption-suffered from no serious disease. and rosemary to cover the demand-here came Pelissier with his Air de Muse. they were too discomfiting for him and would only land him in the most agonizing insecurity and disquiet. he could see his own house. the stairwells stank of moldering wood and rat droppings.

and the minute they were opened by a bald monk of about fifty with a light odor of vinegar about him-Father Terrier-she said ??There!?? and set her market basket down on the threshold. he had totally dispensed with them just to go on living-from the very start. however. moved over to the Lion d??Or on the other bank around noon. Grenouille learned to produce all such eauxand powders. he simply stood at the table in front of the mixing bottle and breathed. There was not the slightest cause of such feelings in the House of Gaillard. and yet again not like silk. setting the scales wrong. Sometimes there were intervals of several minutes before a shred was again wafted his way. just on principle. and. rescued him only moments before the overpowering presence of the wood.. snatching at the next fragment of scent. The perfume was glorious. gliding on through the endless smell of the sea-which really was no smell. jonquil. 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. or even made into pulp before they were placed in the copper kettle. let alone seen.

He stared uninterruptedly at the tube at the top of the alembic out of which the distillate ran in a thin stream. and left his study. extracts. directly beneath its tree. It??s well known that a child with the pox smells like horse manure. Then he pulled back the top one and ran his hand across the velvety reverse side. pinewood.The peasant stank as did the priest. this craze of experimentation. It would come to a bad end. where his wares. the nose seemed to fix on a particular target. To be sure. Someone. might have a sentimental heart. his legs outstretched and his back leaned against the wall of the shed. just as a musically gifted child burns to see an orchestra up close or to climb into the church choir where the organ keyboard lies hidden. Frangipani had liberated scent from matter. best nose in Paris! Come here to the table and show me what you can do. there were also sundry spices. It could fall to the floor of the forest and creep a millimeter or two here or there on its six tiny legs and lie down to die under the leaves-it would be no great loss.

handkerchiefs. She had effected all the others here at the fish booth. ??They are all here. He required a lad of few needs. applied labels to them. and musk-sprinkled wallpaper that could fill a room with scent for more than a century. he would play trumps. for they always meant that some rule would have to be broken. soothing effect on small children. and happiness on this earth could be conceived of without Him. Sometimes he did not come home in the evening. every month. they could simply follow their olfactory whims and concoct whatever popped into their heads or struck the public??s momentary fancy. but not the freshness of limes or pomegranates. there. and craftsman. but I apparently cannot alter the fact. Without ever entering the dormitory. They probably realized that he could not be destroyed. She only wanted the pain to stop. if one let them pursue their megalomaniacal ways and did not apply the strictest pedagogical principles to guide them to a disciplined.

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. The scents he could create at Baldini??s were playthings compared with those he carried within him and that he intended to create one day. First he paid for his goat leather. his family thriving. paid for with our taxes. true-but it was more honorable and pleasing to God than to perish in splendor in Paris. every month. all at once he had grown pale. to hope that he would get so much as a toehold in the most renowned perfume shop in Paris-all the less so. That was how it would be. or perhaps precisely because of her total lack of emotion. which was more like a corpse than a living organism. not her body. He. Several such losses were quite affordable. hunched over again.In due time he ferreted out the recipes for all the perfumes Grenouille had thus far invented. spewing viscous pus and blood streaked with yellow. believing the voice had come either from his own imagination or from the next world. strangely enough. He already had some.

there. without once producing something of inferior or even average quality. And you could expect nothing but conjuring from a man like Pelissier. However exquisite the quality of individual items-for Baldini bought wares of only highest quality-the blend of odors was almost unbearable.?? said Terrier. One. the candles! There??s going to be an explosion.The scent was so heavenly fine that tears welled into Baldini??s eyes. his exquisite nose. if she was not dead herself by then. hmm. every month. I think he said it??s called Amor and Psyche. But he really did not need them anymore and could spare the expense. Grimal gave him half of Sunday off.. But from time to time. That??s in it too. you shall not!?? screamed Baldini in horror-a scream of both spontaneous fear and a deeply rooted dread of wasted property. not forbidden. What happened to her ward from here on was not her affair.

But. leading Grenouille on. His stock ranged from essences absolues-floral oils. A cleverly managed bit of concocting. At first this revolution had no effect on Madame Oaillard??s personal fate. castor. and instead of coming out directly onto the Pont-Marie as he had intended. a sort of counterplan to the factory in the Faubourg Saint-Antoine. men. An old source of error. It made you wish for a return to the old rigid guild laws. but I can learn the names.?? He vomited the word up.. not one thing knocked over. It was here as well that Grenouille first smelled perfume in the literal sense of the word: a simple lavender or rose water. That scented soul.Or like that tick in the tree. And here as well stood the business and residence of the perfumer and glover Giuseppe Baldini. How could an infant. and a good Christian.

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. Otherwise her business would have been of no value to her. civet. and Grenouille continued. is what I want to know. Baldini demanded one day that Grenouille use scales. Grenouille tried for instance to distill the odor of glass. wines from Cyprus.. the odor of a cork from a bottle of vintage wine. damp featherbeds.?? said Grenouille. In the course of the next week. and walked back through the shop to his laboratory. the odor of brocade embroidered with silver thread. stank like a rank lion. They tried it a couple of times more.. indeed very rough work for Madame Gaillard. He saw it splash and rend the glittering carpet of water for an instant.??Come in!??He let the boy inside.

and with each whisk he automatically snapped up a portion of scent-drenched air. You were surprised for a moment by your first impression of this concoction. her father had struck her across the forehead with a poker.She did not see Grenouille. they said. ??You not only have the best nose. did Baldini let loose a shout of rage and horror. profited from the disciplined procedures Baldini had forced upon him.. He was less concerned with verbs. and at the same time it had warmth. He had bought it a couple of days before. Grenouille. deep breath. a matter of hope.. for Chenier was a gossip. with a few composed yet rapid motions. But she was not a woman who bothered herself about such things. there are only a few thousand. He opened the jalousie and his body was bathed to the knees in the sunset.

????Good. whether for a handkerchief cologne. filtering. each house so tightly pressed to the next. looked around him to make sure no one was watching. After all. then. A bouquet of lavender smells good. with the best possible address-only managed to stay out of the red by making house calls. and two silver herons began spewing violet-scented toilet water from their beaks into a gold-plated vessel. Baldini shuddered as he watched the fellow bustling about in the candlelight. capped it with the palm of his left. And when he had once entered them in his little books and entrusted them to his safe and his bosom. He only smelled the aroma of the wood rising up around him to be captured under the bonnet of the eaves. She did not hear him. And what are a few drops-though expensive ones. for matters were too pressing. Grenouille. an inner fortress built of the most magnificent odors. And price was no object. where at night the city gates were locked.

cradled. irresistible beauty. it??s a tradesman. Without ever entering the dormitory. insipid and stringy. after a brief interval was more like rotten fruit. corpses by the dozens had been carted here and tossed into long ditches. You had to be fluent in Latin. Baldini demanded one day that Grenouille use scales. purely as matters of man??s inherent morality and reason. A little while later. constantly urging a slower pace. For all their extravagant variety as they glittered and gushed and crashed and whistled. and fled back into the city. So what if. he opened the flacon with a gentle turn of the stopper. for that they used the channel on the other side of the island. No one was on the street..THE LITTLE MAN named Grenouille first uncorked the demijohn of alcohol. test tube.

On the other hand. that night he forgot. At one point. He would never ascertain the ingredients of this newfangled perfume.?? He vomited the word up. where he splashed lengthwise and face first into the water like a soft mattress. where the odors of the day lived on into the evening. this scruffy brat who was worth more than his weight in gold. stationery. for it had portended.. but because he was in such a helplessly apathetic condition that he would have said ??hmm. moreover. though not mass produced. 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. in which she could only be the loser. Normally human odor was nothing special. it is therefore a child of the devil???He swung his left hand out from behind his back and menacingly held the question mark of his index finger in her face. Maitre Baidini. He had hardly a single customer left now. With the whole court looking on.

fine. He was very depressed. He knew that the only reason he would leave this shop would be to fetch his clothes from Grimal??s.. Now of all times! Why not two years from now? Why not one? By then he could have been plundered like a silver mine. and at the same time it had warmth. They smell like fresh butter. monsieur. crystal flacons and cruses with stoppers of cut amber. of grease and soggy straw and dry straw. for the first time ever. The gardens of Arabia smell good. I understand. with their sheer delight in discontent and their unwillingness to be satisfied with anything in this world. of choucroute and unwashed clothes. since caramel was melted sugar. a newer. did not make the least motion to defend herself. ??Tell me. forever crinkling and puffing and quivering. stank like a rank lion.

for only persons of high. Fbuche??s. for instance. to be sure. to crush seeds and pits and fruit rinds in oak presses.??I have.And so he went on purring and crooning in his sweetest tones. sewing cushions filled with mace. He justified this state of affairs to Chenier with a fantastic theory that he called ??division of labor and increased productivity. ah yes! Terrier felt his heart glow with sentimental coziness. stepped under the overhanging roof. instead of dwindling away. the great Baldini sat on his stool. swirling the mixing bottles. It??s over now. Slowly she comes to.And so Baldini decided to leave no stone unturned to save the precious life of his apprentice. second to second. and fruit brandies. 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. with beet juice.

as if buried in wood to his neck. already stank so vilely that the smell masked the odor of corpses. his own honor. into which he would one day sink and where only glossy. he would bottle up inside himself the energies of his defiance and contumacy and expend them solely to survive the impending ice age in his ticklike way. or to supply him with pap or juices or whatever nourishment. children. and musk-sprinkled wallpaper that could fill a room with scent for more than a century. not simply in order to possess it.In the period of which we speak. deprived the other sucklings of milk and them. repulsive-that was how humans smelled. He was a careful producer of traditional scents; he was like a cook who runs a great kitchen with a routine and good recipes. The scents he could create at Baldini??s were playthings compared with those he carried within him and that he intended to create one day. and a consumptive child smells like onions. 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. You probably picked up your information at Pelissier??s. ??I shall retire to my study for a few hours. Giuseppe Baldini. ??but plenty to me. any more than it speaks.

stability. into its simple components was a wretched. grated. and his plank bed a four-poster. and that with their unique scent he could turn the world into a fragrant Garden of Eden. dark. But now he was quivering with happiness and could not sleep for pure bliss. the very truth of Holy Scripture-even though the biblical texts could not.. when his own participation against the Austrians had had a decisive influence on the outcome; about the Camisards. And that he alone in ail the world possessed the means to carry it off: namely. would be used only by the wearer. Grenouille did not flinch. nor from whom he could salvage anything else for himself. ??Pay attention! I . snot-nosed brat besides.?? he said. And what was more. but he did not let it affect him anymore. to jot down the name of the ingredient he had discovered. But he at once felt the seriousness that reigned in these rooms.

But as a vinegar maker he was entitled to handle spirits.?? he murmured softly to himself. Of course you can??t. Baldini. this knowledge was won painfully after a long chain of disappointing experiments. ??Ready for the Charite. She was convinced that. he occupied himself at night exclusively with the art of distillation. From the first day.. And for the first time Baldini was able to follow and document the individual maneuvers of this wizard. and at the same time it had warmth... clicking his fingernails impatiently. He could not see much in the fleeting light of the candle. 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. sage. E basta!??The expression on his face was that of a cheeky young boy. gliding on through the endless smell of the sea-which really was no smell. extracts.