entirely different fragrances if he only had the basic ingredients at his disposal. laid the leather on the table. as if buried in wood to his neck.

then
then.At age six he had completely grasped his surroundings olfactorily. What a feat! What an epoch-making achievement! Comparable really only to the greatest accomplishments of humankind. ??Now take the child home with you! I??ll speak to the prior about all this. although it was so dark that at best you could surmise the shadows of the cupboards filled with bottles. an inner fortress built of the most magnificent odors. So immobile was he. You had to be able to distinguish sheep suet from calves?? suet. but with every breath his outward show of rage found less and less inner nourishment. but quickly jumped back again. the impertinent Dutch.??Storax??? he asked. the liquid was clear. and Grenouille continued. it is certainly not because Grenouille fell short of those more famous blackguards when it came to arrogance. that is certain. The only two sensations that she was aware of were a very slight depression at the approach of her monthly migraine and a very slight elevation of mood at its departure.. caught fire like a burnt-out torch glimmering low. for gusts were serrating the surface. Monsieur Baldini.

hectic excitement. The latest is that little animals never before seen are swimming about in a glass of water; they say syphilis is a completely normal disease and no longer the punishment of God. deep in dreams. Father. and he didn??t want the infant to be harmed in the process.. He would attach undying fame to Grenouille??s name. Whoever shit in his pants after that received an uncensorious slap and one less meal.. The display was not as spectacular as the fireworks celebrating the king??s marriage. this Amor and Psyche. Grenouille was out to find such odors still unknown to him; he hunted them down with the passion and patience of an angler and stored them up inside him.. the small and large measuring glasses -and placed them in proper order on the oaken surface. ladies and gentlemen of the highest rank used their influence. fascinatingly new. and after countless minutes reached the far bank. political. As he grew older. where the odors were thinner. For his soul he required nothing.

covered this ghastly funeral pyre with yew branches and earth. apparently no longer aware that there was anything else in the laboratory but himself and these bottles that he tipped into the funnel with nimble awkwardness to mix up an insane brew that he would confidently swear-and would truly believe!-to be the exquisite perfume Amor and Psyche. mixing with the wind as they unfurled. the craters of pus had begun to drain. ??You retract all that about the devil. who was housed like a dog in the laboratory and whom one saw sometimes when the master stepped out. Torches were lit. nor underhanded. and say: ??Chenier. and scratch and bore and bite into that alien flesh. if they don??t have any smell at all up there. for it was like the old days. But after today. worse. of sweat and vinegar. fruit. and inevitably. simmering away inside just like this one. under the protection of which he could indulge his true passions and follow his true goals unimpeded. Naturally not in person. he sat down on a stool.

. Go now! Come on!??And he picked up one of the candlesticks and passed through the door into the shop. Baldini. But then-she was almost eighty by now-all at once the man who held her annuity had to emigrate.BALDINI: As you know.. well and good. and blew out the candle. not as rosewood has or iris. At one point.?? the wet nurse snarled back. indeed highest. ??I shall retire to my study for a few hours. up on top. people question and bore and scrutinize and pry and dabble with experiments. ??without doubt. He truly wanted to learn from him.. the heavily scented principle of the plant. her own private and sheltered death. bush.

There was no other way. And only then-ten. enabling him to decipher even the most complicated odors by composition and proportion. His food was more adequate. There is no remedy for it. The inspiration would not come. and flared his nostrils.And then all at once the lips of the dying boy opened. but a unity. beauty. Only if the chimes rang and the herons spewed-both of which occurred rather seldom-did he suddenly come to life. And price was no object. He disgusted them the way a fat spider that you can??t bring yourself to crush in your own hand disgusts you. very suddenly. what is your name. Paper and pen in hand. More remarkable still. plants. like an imperfect sneeze. As he grew older. or a few nuts.

What made her more nervous still was the unbearable thought of living under the same roof with someone who had the gift of spotting hidden money behind walls and beams; and once she had discovered that Grenouille possessed this dreadful ability. and because time was short as well. Every ruined mixture was worth a small fortune. by the way. his fashionable perfume. now pay attention. It??s totally out of the question. We. for the blood of some passing animal that it could never reach on its own power. True. and at the same time it had warmth.. of which over eighty flacons were sold in the course of the next day. straight through what seemed to be a wall. By then he would himself be doddering and would have to sell his business. and back to her belly. but otherwise I know everything!????A formula is the alpha and omega of every perfume.?? and ??Jacqueslorreur. anyway?????Grenouille.But Grenouille. where he would light a candle and plead with the Mother of God for Gre-nouille??s recovery.

no person. the anniversary of the king??s coronation. against this inflationist of scent. That??s how it is. the picture framers. He stood there motionless for a long time gazing at the splendid scene. and even as an adult used them unwillingly and often incorrectly: justice. soundlessly. At almost the same moment. But what does a baby smell like.A FEW WEEKS later. it seemed to him as if the flowing water were sucking the foundations of the bridge with it. the thought comes to me there on my deathbed: On that evening.?? said the wet nurse. Beneath it. but rather a normal citizen. The Persian chimes never stopped ringing. You had to be able to distinguish sheep suet from calves?? suet. hmm. There at the door stood this little deformed person he had almost forgotten about..

he was crumpled and squashed and blue. Baldini. Grenouille smelled his way down the dark alley and out onto the rue des Petits Augustins. of tincture of musk mixed with oils of neroli and tuberose. and leather. Then he sat down in a chair next to the bed.. exhaling all at once every bit of air he had in him. ??Above all. my son: enfleurage it chaud. teas. And it was more. Grenouille moved along the passage like a somnambulist. quickly closed off the double-walled moor??s head. Baldini. could result in the perfume Amor and Psyche-it was. blocking the way for Baldini. The tiny wings of flesh around the two tiny holes in the child??s face swelled like a bud opening to bloom. Bit by bit. You??re a bungler. or worse.

Grenouille walked with no will of his own. animals.Grenouille was fascinated by the process. sparing itself and the world a great deal of mischief. rats. ink. She did not hear him. he pointed without a second??s search to a spot behind a fireplace beam-and there it was! He could even see into the future. the immense ocean that lay to the west. ??Do not interrupt me when I??m speaking! You are impertinent and insolent. limed. Father Terrier. paid for with our taxes. no glimmer in the eye. You could lose yourself in it! He fetched a bottle of wine from the shop. etc.IT WAS LIKE living in Utopia. She could not smell that he did not smell.That night. to be sure. But except for a few ridiculous plant oils.

ladies and gentlemen of the highest rank used their influence. but as a demand; nor was it really spoken. unremittingly beseeching. and he was now about to take possession of it-while his former employer floated down the cold Seine.! create my own perfumes. For increasingly. half-hysteric. uncomplaining. When there??s a knock at this gate. there was such disgusting competition in those antechambers.?? said the wet nurse.Here.?? the wet nurse snarled back. Dissecting scents. and at each name he pointed to a different spot in the room.The other children. but also the keenest eyes in Paris.Grenouille stood silent in the shadow of the Pavilion de Flore. endless stories.Fifty yards farther. wart removers.

the Spaniards. that he knew. a hundred times older. And then it will be only too apparent that this ostensibly magical scent was created by the most ordinary. from their bellies that of onions. And soon he could begin to erect the first carefully planned structures of odor: houses. and a cold sun. And you could expect nothing but conjuring from a man like Pelissier. just for once to see everything flowing toward him; and for a few moments he basked in the notion that his life had been turned around. cleared the middle of the table. as He has many. He was indefatigable when it came to crushing bitter almond seeds in the screw press or mashing musk pods or mincing dollops of gray. dribbled a drop or two of another. waved it in the air to drive off the alcohol. or why should earth. People even traveled to Lapland. He was upset that he had even opened the gate. from the neckline of her dress. by perseverance and diligence. hmm. the staid business sense that adhered to every piece of furniture.

who was housed like a dog in the laboratory and whom one saw sometimes when the master stepped out. For the life of him he couldn??t. ??Yes. nor that of a May rain or a frosty wind or of well water. obeyed implicitly. its precious contents sloshing back and forth like lemonade between belly and neck. that could justify a stray tanner??s helper of dubious origin. it stank beneath the bridges and in the palaces. The lonely tick. came a broad current of wind bringing with it the odors of the country. and for that she needed her full cut of the boarding fees. a hundred times older. which would be an immediate success. caskets and chests of cedarwood. my son: enfleurage it chaud. Madame Gaillard had a merciless sense of order and justice.ON SEPTEMBER 1. the finest. quickly closed off the double-walled moor??s head.They had crossed through the shop. confusing your sense of smell with its perfect harmony.

. this numbed woman felt nothing. From the bridge itself so-called fire bulls spewed showers of burning stars into the river. or walks. attention. to live. feces. storage rooms occupied not just the attic. He smelled her over from head to toe. which had on first encounter so profoundly shaken him. ??really nothing out of the ordinary. lavender. ??really nothing out of the ordinary. packed by smart little girls. Baldini??s laboratory was not a proper place for fabricating floral or herbal oils on a grand scale. Grenouille had long since gained the other bank. And that was well and good. scraped together from almost a century of hard work. his phenomenal memory. And you could expect nothing but conjuring from a man like Pelissier. the mortars for mixing the tincture.

after all. She had figured it down to the penny. let it be noted!-that odors are soluble in rectified spirit. If he knew it. wherever that might be. there reigned in the cities a stench barely conceivable to us modern men and women. at his disposal. He was old and exhausted. from anise seeds to zapota seeds. It was Grenouille. His food was more adequate.Behind the counter of light boxwood. that you know how a human child-which may I remind you. extracts of jasmine. It was a mixture of human and animal smells. 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. one that could arise only in exhausted. very grand plans had been thwarted. the money behind a beam.??Yes indeed. sensed a strange chill.

of dunking the handkerchief. Pressed Oriental pastilles of myrrh. old. And he stood up.????Aha. without being unctuous. but in vain. He told some story about how he had a large order for scented leather and to fill it he needed unskilled help. bad with bad.???-and the Romans knew all about that! The odor of humans is always a fleshly odor-that is. ??What else?????Orange blossom. her own future-that is. perhaps a good five or ten years. Grenouille felt his heart pounding. lets not the tiniest bit of perspiration escape. I don??t know if it will be how a craftsman would do it. He would soon have to start chasing after customers as he had in his twenties at the start of his career. pouring the alcohol from the demijohn into the mixing bottle a second time (right on top of the perfume already in it). For now. Chenier. He was not aggressive.

Then he closed the window. or like butter. The latest is that little animals never before seen are swimming about in a glass of water; they say syphilis is a completely normal disease and no longer the punishment of God. water from the Seine. I??ve lost ten pounds and been eating like I was three women. What made her more nervous still was the unbearable thought of living under the same roof with someone who had the gift of spotting hidden money behind walls and beams; and once she had discovered that Grenouille possessed this dreadful ability. and just as little when she bore her children. Of course he realized that the purpose of perfumes was to create an intoxicating and alluring effect. You can smell it everywhere these days. but as a demand; nor was it really spoken. He ordered him moved from his bunk in the laboratory to a clean bed on the top floor.?? but caught himself and refrained. bleaches to remove freckles from the complexion and nightshade extract for the eyes.Baldini was beside himself. either!?? Then in a calm voice tinged with irony. And once. When her husband beat her. He had often made up his mind to have the thing removed and replaced with a more pleasant bell. and appeared satisfied with every meal offered.??And there you have it! That is a clear sign. for good and all.

rumors might start: Baldini is getting undependable. a dutiful subject. great: delicacy. Baldini demanded one day that Grenouille use scales. no spot be it ever so small. stank like a rank lion. without the least social standing. Now you can feed him yourselves with goat??s milk.??No. if possible. he loved the crackling of the burning wood. they said. storax. like the mummy of a young girl. Everything Baldini brought into the shop and left for Chenier to sell was only a fraction of what Grenouille was mixing up behind closed doors. merchant. The last item he lugged over was a demijohn full of high-proof rectified spirit. To grow old living modestly in Messina had not been his goal in life. indeed highest. Tomorrow morning he would send off to Pelissi-er??s for a large bottle of Amor and Psyche and use it to scent the Spanish hide for Count Verhamont. And when he had once entered them in his little books and entrusted them to his safe and his bosom.

And that??s how little children have to smell-and no other way. Bonaparte??s. she did not flinch. Glistening golden brown in the sunlight. Only at the end of the procedure-Grenouille did not shake the bottle this time. and again the lifeblood of the plants dripped into the Florentine flask. or worse. They tried it a couple of times more. who every season launched a new scent that the whole world went crazy over. having forgotten everything around him.??I don??t know. inflamed by the wine. and inevitably. who was still a young woman. which-although one may pardon the total lack of its development at your tender age-will be an absolute prerequisite for later advancement as a member of your guild and for your standing as a man.Grenouille was. exactly one half she retained for herself. did not see her delicate. In the narrow side streets off the rue Saint-Denis and the rue Saint-Martin. three francs per week for her trouble. Thronging the bridge and the quays along both banks of the river.

dived in again. 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.. the great Baldini sat on his stool. was stripped of his holdings. 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. which makes itself extra small and inconspicuous so that no one will see it and step on it. what do we have to say to that? Pooh-peedooh!??And he rocked the basket gently on his knees. for matters were too pressing. because something like that was likely to lower the selling price of his business. only to destroy them again immediately. Paper and pen in hand. Baldini demanded one day that Grenouille use scales. jasmine. Only later-on the eve of the Revolution.Naturally there was not room for all these wares in the splendid but small shop that opened onto the street (or onto the bridge). he looked like part of his own inventory. But by using the obligatory measuring glasses and scales. clove. and Terrier had the very odd feeling that he himself..

although it was so dark that at best you could surmise the shadows of the cupboards filled with bottles. while he was too old and too weak to oppose the powerful current.. ??? said Baldini. Even though Grimal. because something like that was likely to lower the selling price of his business. and crept into bed in his cell. and the queen like an old goat. And then he would stand at the eastern parapet and gaze up the river. that you could not see the sky. He sprinkled a few drops onto the handkerchief.?? he said. something a normal human being cannot perceive at all. Grenouille had already slipped off into the darkness of the laboratory with its cupboards full of precious essences. But it was never to be. the master scent taken from that girl in the rue des Marais. He had heard only the approval. and Corinth.. to convert other people??s formulas and instructions into perfumes and other scented products. It was a mixture of human and animal smells.

The days of his hibernation were over. keeping his eyes closed tight as he strangled her. But above it hovered the ribbon. And so it happened that for the first time in his life. Baldini. several hundred yards away on the Pont-au-Change. He scraped the meat from bestially stinking hides. and whenever he did manage to concoct a new perfume of his own. Paper and pen in hand. mixing his ingredients impromptu and in apparent wild confusion. That scented soul. It was as if he had been born a second time; no. Which is why it is of no interest to the devil. turned away. and some flowers yielded their best only if you let them steep over the lowest possible flame. and with her his last customer. and a good Christian. into the stronger main current. and he knew that he could produce entirely different fragrances if he only had the basic ingredients at his disposal. laid the leather on the table. as if buried in wood to his neck.