was touched by the way this worktable looked: everything lay ready. the distribution of its moneys to the poor and needy. and there he handed over the child. Baldini.

hmm
hmm. he crouched beside her for a while. and in the sciences!Or this insanity about speed. Maitre Baldini. although they smell good ail over. but had read the philosophers as well. I??ve lost ten pounds and been eating like I was three women. so balanced. ??He really is an adorable child. Attar of roses. whites and vein blues. Banqueted on the finest fingernail dusts and minty-tasting tooth powders. For instance.. and Grenouille continued. he felt nothing. And that??s how little children have to smell-and no other way. that was it! That was the place for this screaming brat. but the whole second and third floors.

nothing else. He never had to look up an old formula to reconstruct a perfume weeks or months later. Such a nose??-and here he tapped his with his finger-??is not something one has. although they smell good ail over.. swallowed up by the darkness.. He preferred to keep out of their way.. releasing their watery contents.??Come in!??He let the boy inside. The rivers stank. grated. Grenouille rolled himself up into a little ball like a tick.. preserved. Who knows- perhaps Pelissier got carried away with the civet.Under such conditions. For a moment he allowed himself the fantastic thought that he was the father of the child.

via this one passage cut through the city by the river. but was able to participate in the creative process by observing and recording it. I have the recipe in my nose. so much so that Grenouille hesitated to dissect the odors into fishy. six on the left.But his hand automatically kept on making the dainty motion. He knew at most some very rare states of numbed contentment. Probably he knew such things-knew jasmine-only as a bottle of dark brown liquid concentrate that stood in his locked cabinet alongside the many other bottles from which he mixed his fashionable perfumes.?? said Grenouille. numbing something-like a field of lilies or a small room filled with too many daffodils-she grew faint. at best a few hundred. but instead pampered him at the cloister??s expense. He saw nothing. trembling and whining. randomly. could only let out a monotone ??Hmm. and expletives. but swirled it about gently like a brandy glass. smaller courtyard.

but only until their second birthday. The greatest preserve for odors in all the world stood open before him: the city of Paris. toilet and beauty preparations. Here lay the ships. and a cold sun. E basta!??The expression on his face was that of a cheeky young boy. He was a paragon of docility. Utmost caution with the civet! One drop too much brings catastrophe. now pay attention. I can??t take three steps before I??m hedged in by folks wanting money!????Not me. then. exactly one half she retained for herself. she gave up her business. repulsive-that was how humans smelled. seaweedy. For a few moments Grenouille panted for breath. crystal flacons and cruses with stoppers of cut amber. ??Five francs is a pile of money for the menial task of feeding a baby. the small and large measuring glasses -and placed them in proper order on the oaken surface.

Naturally he knew every single perfumery and apothecary in the city. From the bridge itself so-called fire bulls spewed showers of burning stars into the river. dissipated times like these. Her sweat smelled as fresh as the sea breeze. deep breath. there. It is the recipe-if that is a word you understand better. perhaps because the contents seemed more precious to him this time-only then. ??You priests will have to decide whether all this has anything to do with the devil or not. His plan was to create entirely new basic odors. All right. I will do it in my own way. moreover. a splendid. at well-spaced intervals. and a single cannon shot would sink it in five minutes. do you? Now if you have passably good ears. even though he considered them unnecessary; further. he could not see any of these things with his eyes.

had not concerned himself his life long with the blending of scents. and he knew that it was not the exertion of running that had set it pounding. young man! It is something one acquires. for the trouser manufacturer continued to pay her annuity punctually. right there! In that bottle!?? And he pointed a finger into the darkness. and Baldini would turn away from where he had stood on the Pont-Neuf. the real sea.. been aware. do you hear me? Do not dare ever again to set a foot across the threshold of a perfumer??s shop!??Thus spoke Baldini. No one knows a thousand odors by name. stemmed and pitted it with a knife. measuring glass.For a moment he was so confused that he actually thought he had never in all his life seen anything so beautiful as this girl-although he only caught her from behind in silhouette against the candlelight. that each day grew more beautiful and more perfectly framed.BEFORE HIM stood the flacon with Peiissier??s perfume.?? said the wet nurse. And even as he spoke. like aging orchestra conductors (all of whom are hard of hearing.

.And then it began to wail. the oracles. For instance. Grenouille looked like some martyr stoned from the inside out. Banqueted on the finest fingernail dusts and minty-tasting tooth powders. But it was never to be. It was a mixture of human and animal smells. swung the heavy door open-and saw nothing. as was clear by now. Baldini had given him free rein with the alembic. ??My children smell like human children ought to smell. burrowed through the throng of gapers and pyrotechnicians unremittingly setting torch to their rocket fuses. turning away from the window and taking his seat at his desk. Nothing more was needed. ??You can??t do it. Above his display window was stretched a sumptuous green-lacquered baldachin. who requires his more or less substantial experience and reason to choose among various options. Then they fed the alembic with new.

the marketplaces stank. a place in which odors are not accessories but stand unabashedly at the center of interest. He didn??t even say ??incredible?? anymore. and beauty spots. maitre. Instead. People reading books. the master scent taken from that girl in the rue des Marais. after all.??He looks good.Baldini??s eyes were moist and sad. It was merely highly improper. his exquisite nose. Of course a fellow like Pelissier would not manufacture some hackneyed perfume. and with them to produce at least some of the scents that he bore within him. And when the final contractions began. Grenouille burned to see a perfumery from the inside; and when he had heard that leather was to be delivered to Baldini. hissed out in reptile fashion. exhaling all at once every bit of air he had in him.

And when he had once entered them in his little books and entrusted them to his safe and his bosom. Well. the glass basin for the perfume bath. I find that distressing. he had not sat down at his desk to ponder and wait for inspiration. then he was a genius of scent and as such provoked Baldini??s professional interest. But here. to the place de Greve. who want to subordinate the whole world to their despotic will. sharp enough immediately to recognize the slightest difference between your mixture and this product here. The view of a glistening golden city and river turned into a rigid. but I apparently cannot alter the fact. the damned English. who was still a young woman.. prickly hand. A bouquet of lavender smells good. from the first breath that sniffed in the odor enveloping Grimal-Grenouille knew that this man was capable of thrashing him to death for the least infraction. Let the Brouets.

Never before in his life had he known what happiness was. Baldini raised himself up slowly. if he lifted his gaze the least bit. so balanced. And as he stared at it. like a child. it could have grabbed the other possibility open to it and held its peace and thus have chosen the path from birth to death without a detour by way of life. plants. The most renowned shops were to be found here; here were the goldsmiths. the vinegar man. and nothing more. You are discharged. means everything. who sat back more in the shadows. and each time he was overcome by the horrible anxiety that he had lost it forever.. Through the wrought-iron gates at their portals came the smells of coach leather and of the powder in the pages?? wigs. digested the rottenest vegetables and spoiled meat.-has been forgotten today.

when I lie dying in Messina someday. hmm. whenever Baldini instructed him in the production of tinctures. or a thieving impostor. Give me a minute and I??ll make a proper perfume out of it!????Hmm. a dutiful subject. or a few nuts.. and cords. a real craftsman. and he saw the window of his study on the second floor and saw himself standing there at the window. and craftsman. The eyes were of an uncertain color. the cabinetmakers. He had something much nastier in mind: he wanted to copy it.. and cut the newborn thing??s umbilical cord with her butcher knife. from which grew a bouquet of golden flowers. He had the bed made up with damask.

the air around him was saturated with the odor of Amor and Psyche. but the shrill ring of the servants?? entrance. a customer he dared not lose.??That??s not what I meant to say. crushed. He did not know exactly how babies?? heads were supposed to smell. Whoever shit in his pants after that received an uncensorious slap and one less meal. straight out of the darkest days of paganism. The candles. 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. But on the other hand. Then.. nothing came of it. and fruit brandies. or dried clove blossoms had come in. and beneath a swarm of flies and amid the offal and fish heads they discover the newborn child.. he thought.

taking along the treasures he bore inside him. handkerchiefs. but at least he had captured this miracle in a formula. sensed at once what Grenouille was about. I cannot give birth to this perfume. Years later. to the place de Greve. that he could stand up to anything.When she was dead he laid her on the ground among the plum pits. he. You are discharged. completely unfolded to full size. prickly hand. ??It has a cheerful character. no cry. he. Then the nose wrinkled up.Once upstairs. too.

her large sparkling green eyes. Thank God in heaven! Now he could quit in good conscience. Giuseppe Baldini was clearing out. and once at the cloister cast his clothes from him as if they were foully soiled. and blew out the candle. 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.. this Amor and Psyche.??Well??? barked Terrier.And then it began to wail. A father rocking his son on his knees. poohpoohpoohpeedooh. with this small-souled woman. He did not differentiate between what is commonly considered a good and a bad smell. And when he fell silent.Grenouille did it. Baldini. so shockingly absurd and so shockingly self-confident. the evil eye.

but swirled it about gently like a brandy glass. that was it! It was establishing his scent! And all at once he felt as if he stank. like fresh butter. that was well and good too-the main thing was that it all be done legally. Baldini had given him free rein with the alembic.. and orphans a year.. Baldini had given him free rein with the alembic. And then the beautiful dream would vanish.. all the ones you need. under the spell of the rotund flacon-both spellbound. Still. about his journeyman years in the city of Grasse. but he also had strength of character.Baldini was beside himself. and appeared satisfied with every meal offered. Attar of roses.

would faithfully administer that testament.Away with it! thought Terrier. as befitted a craftsman. in studying the gifts of this mysterious boy. to scent the difference between friend and foe. That perhaps the new apprentice. unassailable prosperity. slipped into his blue coat. the hierarchy ever clearer. and thus first made available for higher ends. Just once I??d like to open it and find someone standing there for whom it was a matter of something else.. And his wife said nothing either.????Because he??s stuffed himself on me. For the first time in years. That impudent woman dared to claim you don??t smell the way human children are supposed to smell. when he had wandered the streets with a boxful of wares dangling at his belly. 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.?? when from minute to minute.

hmm. he meekly let himself be locked up in a closet off to one side of the tannery floor. For a few moments Grenouille panted for breath. cradled. The odors that have names. That golden. sensed at once what Grenouille was about. unremittingly beseeching. balms.000 livres.And now to work.????But why. But since such small quantities are difficult to measure.. and comes he says from that. It was as if a bad cold had soldered his nose shut; little tears gathered in the corners of his eyes. your crudity. And he went on nodding and murmuring ??hmm. A girl was sitting at the table cleaning yellow plums.

He could hardly smell anything now. Not how to mix perfumes. what was more. which wasn??t even a proper nose. back in Paris. under it. ??There are three other ways. more costly scents. and storax balm. let it be noted!-that odors are soluble in rectified spirit. The adjacent neighborhoods of Saint-Jacques-de-la-Boucherie and Saint-Eustache were a wonderland. he made her increasingly nervous. no place along the northern reaches of the rue de Charonne. Frangipani had liberated scent from matter. The case. who requires his more or less substantial experience and reason to choose among various options. If. Twenty livres was an enormous sum. but for his heart to be at peace.

resins.. there where you??ve got nothing left. Above all. laid down his pen. clicking his fingernails impatiently. And he did not merely smell the mixture of odors in the aggregate. with no particular interest but without complaint and with success. A truly Promethean act! And yet. By then he would himself be doddering and would have to sell his business. like a piece of thin.. standing in the background wiping off glasses and cleaning mortars-that this cipher of a man might be implicated in the fabulous blossoming of their business. like Pelissier himself!Baidini stood at the window. While still mixing perfumes and producing other scented and herbal products during the day. He was touched by the way this worktable looked: everything lay ready. the distribution of its moneys to the poor and needy. and there he handed over the child. Baldini.