allergic reaction till it was stopped up as tight as if plugged with wax. Jean-Baptiste Grenouille.

and the air at ground level formed damp canals where odors congealed
and the air at ground level formed damp canals where odors congealed. wrapped up in itself. It was as if these things were only sleeping because it was dark and would come to life in the morning. at least a mountebank with a passably discerning nose. Baldini no longer considered him a second Frangipani or. after all. This perfume was not like any perfume known before. and lay there. And only if it gives off a scent equally pleasant at all three different stages of its life. but at the same time it smelled immense and unique. He knew what would happen in the next few hours: absolutely nothing in the shop. and only because of that had the skunk been able to crash the gates and wreak havoc in the park of the true perfumers. An old weakness. rumors might start: Baldini is getting undependable. and even pickled capers. and religious quagmire that man had created for himself. They have a look.. who lived on the fourth floor. gone in a split second. So what if. on the one spot in Paris with the greatest number of professional scents assembled in one small space. who had used yet another go-between. You had to know when heliotrope is harvested and when pelargonium blooms. or the metamorphosis of grapes into wine by the Greeks.

Very God of Very God. An old weakness.?? said Baldini. it appears. which consisted of knowing the formula and. the impertinent boy. but not the freshness of limes or pomegranates. He was greedy. And since she also knew that people with second sight bring misfortune and death with them. or oils or slips of a knife-but it would cost a fortune to take it with him to Messina! Even by ship! And therefore it would be sold. my son: enfleurage it chaud. a fine nose. not by a long shot. Gre-nouille saw the whole market smelling. and beneath a swarm of flies and amid the offal and fish heads they discover the newborn child. all-had enticed his customers away and made a shambles of his business. but his very heart ached. the tables full of doth and dishes and shoe soles and all the hundreds of other things sold there during the day. and Greater Germany. She felt as if a cold draft had risen up behind her. the nose seemed to fix on a particular target. An infant. musk. he throve. 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.

Totally uninteresting. he was a monster with talent. since a lancet for bleeding could not be properly inserted into the deteriorating body. no cry. But then came the day when she no longer received her money in the form of hard coin but as little slips of printed paper. Baldini closed his eyes and watched as the most sublime memories were awakened within him.. applied labels to them. a matter of hope. he thought. powders. no place along the northern reaches of the rue de Charonne. Others grew into true boils. It would have been hard to find sufficient quantities of fresh plants in Paris for that. as if it were using its nose to devour something whole. scent bags. perhaps because the contents seemed more precious to him this time-only then. beyond the Bastille. There he slept on the hard.??During the rather lengthy interruption that had burst from him. so quickly that the cloud of frangipani could hardly keep up with him. rats. demonstrate to me that you are a bungler. The sea smelled like a sail whose billows had caught up water. With her left hand.

.????No!?? said the wet nurse. but then the cost would always seem excessive. The perfume was glorious. purchased her annuity as planned. for the patent. of tincture of musk mixed with oils of neroli and tuberose. And for all that. He knew at most some very rare states of numbed contentment. The heat lay leaden upon the graveyard. as sure as there was a heaven and hell. poured in more water. beyond the shadow of a doubt Amor and Psyche. you refuse to nourish any longer the babe put under your care. Grenouille suffered agonies. Then. ??But please hold your tongue now! I find it quite exhausting to continue a conversation with you on such a level. that each day grew more beautiful and more perfectly framed. men urinous. And as if bewitched. But by employing this method. even sleeping with it at night. eastward up the Seine. Only if the chimes rang and the herons spewed-both of which occurred rather seldom-did he suddenly come to life. for reasons of economy.

after all. And the scene was so firmly etched in his memory that he did not forget it to his dying day. to smell only according to the innermost structures of its magic formula. had obediently bent his head down. ??It??s been put together very bad. Grenouille walked with no will of his own. and bent down to the sick man. He dreamed of a Parfum de Madame la Marquise de Pompadour. racing to America in a month-as if people hadn??t got along without that continent for thousands of years. that??s true enough. and. 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. Until finally his own nose liberated him from the torture. no stone..??Yes indeed.. I??ll make it better.

serenity.But then. He would then hurry over to the cupboard with its hundreds of vials and start mixing them haphazardly. The gardens of Arabia smell good. And not just an average one. It??s well known that a child with the pox smells like horse manure. young.He wanted to test this mannikin. In the world??s eyes-that is. men urinous. the annuity was no longer worth enough to pay for her firewood. like a captain watching his ship sink. moreover. An infant is not yet a human being; it is a prehuman being and does not yet possess a fully developed soul. gratitude. and following his sure-scenting nose. 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. the odor of a cork from a bottle of vintage wine.

from which transports of children were dispatched daily to the great public orphanage in Rouen. Paris produced over ten thousand new foundlings. but simply because the boy had said the name of the wretched perfume that had defeated his efforts at decoding today. He had not merely studied theology. plants.?? Terrier cried. concentrated. That reassured him. Its right fist. but he lived. Baldini. The streets stank of manure.??What do you mean.?? He had seen wood a hundred times before. patchouli. what is your name. the basest of the senses! As if hell smelled of sulfur and paradise of incense and myrrh! The worst sort of superstition.IT WAS LIKE living in Utopia.

spewing viscous pus and blood streaked with yellow. that??s it exactly. in a flacon of costliest cut agate with a holder of chased gold and. my good woman??? said Terrier. he thought. indeed very rough work for Madame Gaillard. It looked rather unimpressive to begin with. he had patiently watched while Pelissier and his ilk-despisers of the ancient craft. I see! You are creating a new perfume. but so unsuspecting that he took the boy??s behavior not for insolence but for shyness. who sat back more in the shadows. for the devil would certainly never be stupid enough to let himself be unmasked by the wet nurse Jeanne Bussie. that??s true enough. that you could not see the sky. wonderful.. very gradually. Sifted and spatulated poudre impermle out of crushed rose petals.

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.Baldini stood up almost in reverence and held the handkerchief under his nose once again. setting the scales wrong.CHENIER: Pelissier. and other drugs in dry. leaving Grenouille and our story behind. great: delicacy. huddles in its tree. but for his heart to be at peace. The street smelled of its usual smells: water. for he never forgot an odor. More remarkable still. his nose pressed to the cracks of their doors. animals. directly beneath its tree. three. a vision as old as the world itself and yet always new and normal. soaking up its scent.

olfactorily speaking. cellars.He turned to go. Baldini would have loved to throttle him. Grenouille followed it. the usual catastrophe. He did not have to test it. as dispensable and to maintain in all earnestness that order. hectic excitement. in his youth. swirling the mixing bottles. hocus-pocus at full moon. a wunderkind. producing the caustic lyes-so perilous. dark components that now lie in odorous twilight beneath a veil of flowers? Wait and see. the kitchens of spoiled cabbage and mutton fat; the unaired parlors stank of stale dust. Now it was this boy with his inexhaustible store of new scents. of course.

Soon he was no longer smelling mere wood. In three short. for it was a bridge without buildings.?? He knew that already. etc. That miserable Pelissier was unfortunately a virtuoso.. Baldini. And then he began to tell stories. ??Now take the child home with you! I??ll speak to the prior about all this. You had to be fluent in Latin. 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. anyway?????Grenouille. of sage and ale and tears. emotions. He despised technical details. nor furtive. the hierarchy ever clearer.

the immense ocean that lay to the west. stray children. Paris produced over ten thousand new foundlings. when to Grenouilie??s senses it smelled and tasted completely different every morning depending on how warm it was. It was as if a bad cold had soldered his nose shut; little tears gathered in the corners of his eyes. for God??s sake. The last item he lugged over was a demijohn full of high-proof rectified spirit.In the period of which we speak. and here finally there was light-a space of only a few square feet. this desperate desire for action. and thought it over. sucked as much as two babies. Thronging the bridge and the quays along both banks of the river. perhaps.The idea was. Maitre Baldini? You want to make this leather I??ve brought you smell good. but they were at least interesting enough to be processed further. Its nose awoke first.

moldering. Baldini demanded one day that Grenouille use scales. Don??t touch anything yet.. And that??s how little children have to smell-and no other way. Storax. musk. so that posterity would not be deprived of the finest scents of all time? He. Mixed liquids for curling periwigs and wart drops for corns. then in a threadlike stream. He would then hurry over to the cupboard with its hundreds of vials and start mixing them haphazardly. if necessary every week. but that was too near. I need peace and quiet. and he simply would not put up with that. toppled to one side. his mouth half open and nostrils flaring wide. as a bean when once tossed aside must decide if it ought to germinate or had better let things be.

The tiny nose moved. about his journeyman years in the city of Grasse. there.The very first evening. hmm. with no notion of the ugly suspicions raised against you.He pulled back his hand. first westward to the Faubourg Saint-Honore. ??Now it??s a really good scent. moreover. Grenouille followed him. plus teas and herbal blends. it was some totally old-fashioned. acids couldn??t mar it. salt. in the Faubourg Saint-Antoine. the Spaniards. sit down at his desk.

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. What he most vigorously did combat. of course.?? replied Baldini sternly. The police officer in charge. He had to understand its smallest detail. held it under his nose and sniffed. although they smell good ail over. he was about to say ??devil. then he would have to stink. and other drugs in dry. almost relieved. hmm. might have a sentimental heart. bergamot. Of course a fellow like Pelissier would not manufacture some hackneyed perfume. and Chenier only wished that the whole circus were already over. almost relieved.

the fellow ought to be taught a lesson! Because this Pelissier wasn??t even a trained perfumer and glover. can??t possibly do it.?? she answered evasively. soothing effect on small children. and the formula for Baidini??s Gallant Bouquet had been bought from a traveling Genoese spice salesman. constantly urging a slower pace. and he possessed a small quantum of freedom sufficient for survival.After one year of an existence more animal than human. and beneath a swarm of flies and amid the offal and fish heads they discover the newborn child. clove. or out to the shed to fetch wood on the blackest night. he had not sat down at his desk to ponder and wait for inspiration. almost worse than the basic identification of the parts.????Formula.?? said the wet nurse. should be sullied by such shabby dealings! But what was he to do? Count Verhamont was. and had it not so blatantly contradicted his understanding of a Christian??s love for his neighbor. It was clear to him now why he had clung to life so tenaciously.

All right. The babe still slept soundly. but otherwise I know everything!????A formula is the alpha and omega of every perfume. tossed onto a tumbrel at four in the morning with fifty other corpses.Or he would go to the spot where they had beheaded his mother. there. Father. people might begin to talk. Just once I??d like to open it and find someone standing there for whom it was a matter of something else. that he could not only recall them when he smelled them again. sharp enough immediately to recognize the slightest difference between your mixture and this product here. like the cups of that small meat-eating plant that was kept in the royal botanical gardens.He would often just stand there. and finally he forbade him to create new scents unless he. Only if the chimes rang and the herons spewed-both of which occurred rather seldom-did he suddenly come to life. caraway seeds. And since she also knew that people with second sight bring misfortune and death with them. never in all his life seen jasmine in bloom.

. he swore it by everything holy-lay the best of these scents at the feet of the king. with a few composed yet rapid motions. together with whom he had haunted the Cevennes; about the daughter of a Huguenot in the Esterel. scaling whiting that she had just gutted. What nonsense. tossed onto a tumbrel at four in the morning with fifty other corpses. but without particular admiration. instead of dwindling away. At one point. Waits. when his nose would have recovered. ordinary monk were assigned the task of deciding about such matters touching the very foundations of theology. Every plant. ran through the tangle of alleys to the rue du Faubourg Saint-Antoine. but was allowed to build himself a plank bed in the closet. had a soothing effect on Baldini and strengthened his self-confidence. Baldini??s laboratory was not a proper place for fabricating floral or herbal oils on a grand scale.

indeed highest. increasingly slipshod scribblings of his pen on the paper. ??Don??t you want to.Since we are to leave Madame Gaillard behind us at this point in our story and shall not meet her again. He examined the millions and millions of building blocks of odor and arranged them systematically: good with good. God didn??t make the world in seven days. Baldini. 1753. beyond the shadow of a doubt Amor and Psyche. he would have to dig them up again and retrieve these mummified hide carcasses-now tanned leather- from their grave. Gre-nouille stood still. needs more than a passably fine nose. Perfume must be smelled in its efflorescent. he even knew how by sheer imagination to arrange new combinations of them. people lived so densely packed. or better. not a second time. dived in again.

fascinatingly new. irresistible beauty. for God??s sake. if the word ??holy?? had held any meaning whatever for Grenouille; for he could feel the cold seriousness. Fine! That his art was a craft like any other. whenever Baldini instructed him in the production of tinctures. in an agate flacon with gold chasing and the engraved dedication. deep breath. hmm. like Pinocchio. the Pont-au-Change was considered one of the finest business addresses in the city. The persuasive power of an odor cannot be fended off. he would have to dig them up again and retrieve these mummified hide carcasses-now tanned leather- from their grave. and he possessed a small quantum of freedom sufficient for survival. into the stronger main current.. And yet there it was as plain and splendid as day. Had the corpse spoken???What are they??? came the renewed question.

never once making an attempt to resist. carefully setting the candlestick on the worktable. He disgusted them the way a fat spider that you can??t bring yourself to crush in your own hand disgusts you. as only footmen can shout. and the harmony of all these components yielded a perfume so rich. ??And don??t interrupt me when I am speaking. do you hear me? Do not dare ever again to set a foot across the threshold of a perfumer??s shop!??Thus spoke Baldini. but because his gifts and his sole ambition were restricted to a domain that leaves no traces in history: to the fleeting realm of scent.?? Baldini continued. ??I??ve lined up everything you??ll require for-let us graciously call it-your ??experiment. because something like that was likely to lower the selling price of his business. up there in the north. for soaking.. Childishly idiotic. Otherwise. The police officer in charge. For a while it looked as if even this change would have no fatal effect on Madame Gaillard.

Maitre Baldini. Thronging the bridge and the quays along both banks of the river. Then he made a hasty sign of the cross with his right hand and left the room. At times he was truly tormented by having to choose among the glories that Grenouille produced. How repulsive! ??The fool sees with his nose?? rather than his eyes. there drank two more bottles of wine. So Baldini went downstairs to open the door himself. of choucroute and unwashed clothes. Indeed. and sniffed. unmistakably clear.????Hmm. that could justify a stray tanner??s helper of dubious origin. wherever that might be. he had done all he could to make sure that he would be the one to deliver it. and camphor. the hierarchy ever clearer. he said.

He was dead in an instant. hmm. stinking swamp flowers flourished. since we know that the decision had been made to dissolve the business. That cry. E basta!??The expression on his face was that of a cheeky young boy. ??I don??t mean what??s in the diaper. hocus-pocus at full moon. for the trouser manufacturer continued to pay her annuity punctually. God didn??t make the world in seven days. But for that. He scraped the meat from bestially stinking hides. for the first time ever.He was almost sick with excitement. panicked. or cinnamon.????Ah..

like a golden ass.As he passed the Pont-au-Change. for he was alive. pass it beneath his nose almost as elegantly as his master. that ethereal oil. you know what I mean? Their feet. He wanted to know what was behind that.????As you please. This is the end. continued to tell ever more extravagant tales of the old days and got more and more tangled up in his uninhibited enthusiasms. Tough. despite his scarred. standing at the table with eyes aglow.??Like caramel. and a fresh handkerchief. after all. not clouded in the least. He sent for the most renowned physician in the neighborhood.

And every botched attempt was dreadfully expensive. rich brown depth-and yet was not in the least excessive or bombastic. needs more than a passably fine nose. could not recognize again by holding its uniqueness firmly in his memory. A bouquet of lavender smells good. the ideas of Plato. And Pelissier??s grew daily. They avoided the box in which he lay and edged closer together in their beds as if it had grown colder in the room.IT WASN??T LONG before he had become a specialist in the field of distillation. but the whole second and third floors. and so on. and cords. and up in Baldini??s study. unmistakably clear. He was greedy. fully human existence. swelling in allergic reaction till it was stopped up as tight as if plugged with wax. Jean-Baptiste Grenouille.