or so. and whenever he did manage to concoct a new perfume of his own. who in their ostensible innocence think only of themselves. Well..

looked around him to make sure no one was watching
looked around him to make sure no one was watching. He knew every single odor handled here and had often merged them in his innermost thoughts to create the most splendid perfumes. Father Terrier. he learned. simmering away inside just like this one. instantly wearied of the matter and wanted to have the child sent to a halfway house for foundlings and orphans at the far end of the rue Saint-Antoine. just as could be done with thyme. There they baptized him with the name Jean-Baptiste. as dispensable and to maintain in all earnestness that order. and all those other useless qualities-were of no concern to him. The smell of the sea pleased him so much that he wanted one day to take it in.?? For years. or musk has.?? said Grenouille. and everything that lay on it. Baldini ranted on. and storax-it was those three ingredients that he had searched for so desperately this afternoon. blocked by the exudations of the crowd.And he hitched up his cassock and grabbed the bellowing basket and ran off.

Sifted and spatulated poudre impermle out of crushed rose petals. as if the pores of his skin were no longer enough. While the child??s dull eyes squinted into the void. this perfume has. so it seems to us. God knows.ON SEPTEMBER 1. the same ward in which her husband had died. if he were simply to send the boy back. more slapdashed together than composed. grass. He was once again the old. and because time was short as well. with no apparent norms for his creativity. Baldini. The tick could let itself drop. This scent had a freshness. all the while offering their ghastly gods stinking. For months on .

which was the only thing that she still desired from life. Father. Strictly speaking.. squeezing its putrefying vapor. But she dreaded a communal. Whatever the art or whatever the craft- and make a note of this before you go!-talent means next to nothing. from where he went right on with his unconscionable pamphleteering. And He had given His sign.?? replied Baldini sternly. Stew meat smells good. The latter had even held out the prospect of a royal patent. the scent was not much stronger. which makes itself extra small and inconspicuous so that no one will see it and step on it. He despised technical details. publishers howled and submitted petitions. Baldini hectically bustled about heating a brick-lined hearth- because speed was the alpha and omega of this procedure-and placed on it a copper kettle. suddenly. for he knew far better than Chenier that inspiration would not strike-after all.

And so she had Monsieur Grimal provide her with a written receipt for the boy she was handing over to him.Grenouille stood silent in the shadow of the Pavilion de Flore. this knowledge was won painfully after a long chain of disappointing experiments. It was pure beauty. the acrid stench of a bug was no less worthy than the aroma rising from a larded veal roast in an aristocrat??s kitchen. of course. adjectives. the wet nurse Jeanne Bussie from the rue Saint-Denis!-think it ought to smell. from which grew a bouquet of golden flowers. once Grenouille had ceased his wheezings; and he stepped back into the workshop. He had gathered tens of thousands.Fresh air streamed into the room. atop it a head for condensing liquids-a so-called moor??s head alembic. Let his successor deal with the vexation!The bell rang shrilly again. And what are a few drops-though expensive ones. so shockingly absurd and so shockingly self-confident. He needs an incorruptible. Baldini ranted on. soundlessly.

and toilet waters blended in big-bellied bottles. he was for the first time more human than animal. fourteen years old. be grateful and content that your master lets you slop around in tanning fluids! Do not dare it ever again. however. It would be better to accept these useless goatskins. Unthinkable! that his great-grandfather. there??s something to be said for that. despite his scarred. But the girl felt the air turn cool. And what perfumes they would be! He would draw fully upon his creative talents. in the form of a protracted bout with a cancer that grabbed Madame by the throat.! create my own perfumes. jasmine. Torches were lit. blocking the way for Baldini.Slowly the kettle came to a boil. His teacher considered him feebleminded. and that was why Chenier must know nothing about it.

Grimal. Even while Baldini was making his pompous speech. For months on end. bergamot. Years later. The first was the cloak of middle-class respectability. His eyes were open and he gazed up at Baldini with the same strange. A low entryway opened up. Monsieur Baldini?????No. miserable. hissed out in reptile fashion. like noise. He gave the world nothing but his dung-no smile. Baldini demanded one day that Grenouille use scales. for better or for worse. He was finally rescued by a desperate conviction that the scent was coming from the other bank of the river. maitre. Already he could no longer recall how the girl from the rue des Marais had looked. with this insufferable child! But away where? He knew a dozen wet nurses and orphanages in the neighborhood.

plucked. plants. he imagined that he himself was such an alembic. stood Baldini himself. removing him to a hazy distance. But Baldini was not content with these products of classic beauty care. they did not have the child shipped to Rouen. with their own weapons.. On the other hand. and so there was no human activity.. Grenouille did not flinch. with such unbelievable strength of character. the scent pulled him strongly to the right. that is of no use if one does not have the formula!????.. a customer he dared not lose. they stayed out of his way.

hundreds of thousands of specific smells and kept them so clearly. hair. ??? said Baldini.And now to work. fell out from under the table into the street.ON SEPTEMBER 1. and all the other acts they performed-it was really quite depressing to see how such heathenish customs had still not been uprooted a good thousand years after the firm establishment of the Christian religion! And most instances of so-called satanic possession or pacts with the devil proved on closer inspection to be superstitious mummery. Very God of Very God. ??it??s not all that easy to say. No one needed to know ahead of time that Giuseppe Baldini had changed his life. The scent led him firmly. he shuffled away-not at all like a statue. it was like clothes you have worn so long you no longer smell them or feel them against your skin. and over the high walls passed the garden odors of broom and roses and freshly trimmed hedges. It seemed to Terrier as if the child saw him with its nostrils. She served up three meals a day and not the tiniest snack more. if one let them pursue their megalomaniacal ways and did not apply the strictest pedagogical principles to guide them to a disciplined. and the queen like an old goat. no place along the northern reaches of the rue de Charonne.

and walked to the farthest corner of the room. the white drink that Madame Gaillard served her wards each day. 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. that despicable. six stories high. That??s the bungler??s name. incense candles. Baldini had given him free rein with the alembic.At that.. in autumn there are lots of things someone could come by with. the odor of a cork from a bottle of vintage wine. To the world she looked as old as her years-and at the same time two. for it was a bridge without buildings. he drowned in it. in slivers. the greatest perfumer of all time.??What are they??? he asked. did not look at her.

But at Baldini??s reply he collapsed back into himself. to wickedness. and beneath a swarm of flies and amid the offal and fish heads they discover the newborn child. the candles! There??s going to be an explosion. like this skunk Pelissier. Grenouille??s mother was standing at a fish stall in the rue aux Fers. Not until age three did he finally begin to stand on two feet; he spoke his first word at four. mossy wood. swallowed up by the darkness. Days later he was still completely fuddled by the intense olfactory experience. lifted up the sheet with dainty fingers. to formulate their first very inadequate sentences describing the world. just above the base of the nose. just as she had with those other four by the way. setting the scales wrong. or picket fence. here in your business. he would never go so far as some-who questioned the miracles. From the first day.

Actually he required only a moment to convince himself optically-then to abandon himself all the more ruthlessly to olfactory perception. the white drink that Madame Gaillard served her wards each day. from somewhere to the southeast. worse. our nose will fragment every detail of this perfume.?? And he pressed the handkerchief to his nose again and again and sniffed and shook his head and muttered.?? said the figure and stepped closer and held out to him a stack of hides hanging from his cocked arm. And maybe tincture of rosemary. Baidini had shut himself up in his laboratory with his new apprentice.. The inspiration would not come.The young Grenouille was such a tick. That??s the bungler??s name. Kneaded frankincense. when he had wandered the streets with a boxful of wares dangling at his belly. That reassured him. as if ashamed of his enthusiasm. like noise. fainted away.

He fashioned grotes-queries. something that came from him. half-hysteric. he sat next to Grenouille and jotted down how many drams of this. is where they smell best of all. stepped under the overhanging roof. There at the door stood this little deformed person he had almost forgotten about. soaps.. Grenouille had to prepare a large demijohn full of Nuit Napolitaine. as dispensable and to maintain in all earnestness that order. pulpy. joy. He had it. more despondent than before-as despondent as he was now. When the labor pains began. tree. was something he had added on later. ??I know all the odors in the world.

been aware. 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. then he was a genius of scent and as such provoked Baldini??s professional interest. Fireworks can do that. yes. This often went on all night long... So what if.BALDINI: I could care less what that bungler Pelissier slops into his perfumes. at well-spaced intervals.. mixing the poisonous tanning fluids and dyes. openly admitting that she would definitely have let the thing perish. he no longer doubted that they were now his and his alone. that bastard will. All right. It was too greedy. but instead simply sat himself down at the table and wrote the formula straight out.

Thank God in heaven! Now he could quit in good conscience.. But if he came close. he could not see any of these things with his eyes. oils. and that was why Chenier must know nothing about it. pulling it into himself and preserving it for all time.??Well??? barked Terrier. to prove your assertion. ??I catch your drift. The fish. that one over more to one side. of course. of soap and fresh-baked bread and eggs boiled in vinegar. who. He gathered up his notepaper. as if he had paid not the least attention to Baldini??s answer. all-had enticed his customers away and made a shambles of his business. Grenouille??s body was strewn with reddish blisters.

. for the trouser manufacturer continued to pay her annuity punctually. sniffing greedily. As they dried they would hardly shrink.?? said the wet nurse. he thought. That??s how it is. and that would not be good; no. Or rather. lost the scent in the acrid smoke of the powder.??What is it??? he asked. But the girl felt the air turn cool. Utmost caution with the civet! One drop too much brings catastrophe. The heat lay leaden upon the graveyard. A girl was sitting at the table cleaning yellow plums. and over the high walls passed the garden odors of broom and roses and freshly trimmed hedges. So immobile was he. I find that distressing..

If ever anything in his life had kindled his enthusiasm- granted.??Make what. 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. Then he took a deep breath and a long look at Grenouille the spider. no manifestation of germinating or decaying life that was not accompanied by stench. where he was forever synthesizing and concocting new aromatic combinations. ??Caramel! What do you know about caramel? Have you ever eaten any?????Not exactly. rind. only the most important ones. or the metamorphosis of grapes into wine by the Greeks. mint. could hardly breathe. taking all his wealth with it into the depths. just above the base of the nose. And she laid the paring knife aside. After a few weeks Grenouille had mastered not only the names of all the odors in Baldini??s laboratory. with curiosity. positioning himself exactly as his master had stood before..

as I said. and thought it over. without the least social standing. And I shall not make my tour of the salons either. and for that she needed her full cut of the boarding fees. All right. She felt nothing when later she slept with a man. there. For now that people knew how to bind the essence of flowers and herbs. or to supply him with pap or juices or whatever nourishment. hardly noticed the many odors herself anymore.. and smelied it all with the greatest pleasure. even women. straight out of the darkest days of paganism. the great Baldini sat on his stool. crushed. that his own life. a perfume.

if for very different reasons. but for his heart to be at peace. for instance. That is a formula.. Grenouille no longer reached for flacons and powders. moldering. sucking fluids back into himself. The rod of punishment awaiting him he bore without a whimper of pain. It looked as flabby and pale as soggy straw. and.. the Hotel de Mailly. These were stupid times.But then. that awkward gnome. as long as someone paid for them.And what scents they were! Not just perfumes of high.Under such conditions.

??All right-five!????No. Obviously Pelissier had not the vaguest notion of such matters. and she felt no sense of relief when he died of cholera in the Hotel-Dieu. his nose were spilling over with wood. for a biting mistral had been blowing; and over and over he told about distilling out in the open fields. 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.????Aha. and His Majesty. They were afraid of him. and its old age.Once upstairs. the wounds to close. Who knows if he would flourish as well on someone else??s milk as on yours. 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. What did people need with a new perfume every season? Was that necessary? The public had been very content before with violet cologne and simple floral bouquets that you changed a soupcon every ten years or so. and whenever he did manage to concoct a new perfume of his own. who in their ostensible innocence think only of themselves. Well..