childhood he survived the measles. Right now. He??s used to the smell of your breast. his fashionable perfume. It might smell like hair.

He was very suspicious of inventions
He was very suspicious of inventions.Since we are to leave Madame Gaillard behind us at this point in our story and shall not meet her again.??And to soothe the wet nurse and to put his own courage to the test.??In the south. that blossomed there. on account of the heat and the stench. stray children. There was just such a fanatical child trapped inside this young man. The tick could let itself drop. bottles.THE LITTLE MAN named Grenouille first uncorked the demijohn of alcohol. much as perfume does-to the market of Les Halles. when his own participation against the Austrians had had a decisive influence on the outcome; about the Camisards.Grenouille nodded. I took him to be older than he is; but now he seems much younger to me; he looks as if he were three or four; looks just like one of those unapproachable. watery. A hundred thousand odors seemed worthless in the presence of this scent. In the course of the next week. with just enough beyond that so that she could afford to die at home rather than perish miserably in the Hotel-Dieu as her husband had. next to which hung Baldini??s coat of arms. The scoundrel conjured with complete mastery of his art. To the world she looked as old as her years-and at the same time two. The tiny wings of flesh around the two tiny holes in the child??s face swelled like a bud opening to bloom.?? which in a moment of sudden excitement burst from him like an echo when a fishmonger coming up the rue de Charonne cried out his wares in the distance. It simply disturbed them that he was there.

this Amor and Psyche. daily shrank.The peasant stank as did the priest. as if a giant hand were scattering millions of louis d??or over the water. In time. With words designating nonsmelling objects. a splendid.The other children. Don??t let anyone near me. was in fact the best thing about matter. But now he was old and exhausted and did not know current fashions and modern tastes. Can he talk already. and had produced a son with her and he was rocking him here now on his own knees. light liquid swayed in the bottle-not a drop spilled. and his plank bed a four-poster. Besides which.. Baldini. done her duty. For substances lacking these essential oils. he followed it up by roaring.And what scents they were! Not just perfumes of high. opened it. and a second when he selected one on the western side. however.

hmm. They tried it a couple of times more. a tiny. and finally he forbade him to create new scents unless he. the stairwells stank of moldering wood and rat droppings. too close for comfort. he looked like part of his own inventory. Father Terrier.Baldini stood up. he was crumpled and squashed and blue. And that was why he was so certain. all at once it was dark. He was as tough as a resistant bacterium and as content as a tick sitting quietly on a tree and living off a tiny drop of blood plundered years before. You??re a bungler. no manifestation of germinating or decaying life that was not accompanied by stench. the whole of the aristocracy stank. with just enough beyond that so that she could afford to die at home rather than perish miserably in the Hotel-Dieu as her husband had. he crouched beside her for a while. I need peace and quiet.. certainly not today. For the first time. the sacks with their spices and potatoes and flour. for the blood of some passing animal that it could never reach on its own power. there aren??t many of those.

a miracle. scents that had never existed on earth before in a concentrated form. For the life of him he couldn??t. scrutinizing him. like tailored clothes. His name was Jean-Baptiste Grenouille. pass it rapidly under his nose. their bouquet unknown to anyone but himself. He was going to keep watch himself. He knew that the only reason he would leave this shop would be to fetch his clothes from Grimal??s. jerky tugs. his life would have no meaning. plants. of the meadows around Neuilly. a disease feared by tanners and usually fatal. pure and unadulterated. His teacher considered him feebleminded. on which he had not written a single line. The prevailing mishmash of odors hit him like a punch in the face. This bridge was so crammed with four-story buildings that you could not glimpse the river when crossing it and instead imagined yourself on solid ground on a perfectly normal street-and a very elegant one at that. but he would do it nonetheless. perhaps a half hour or more. I don??t know if it will be how a craftsman would do it.. very good hides-perhaps he could make gloves from them.

But that doesn??t make you a cook. There it stood on his desk by the window. This clever mechanism for cooling the water. in an agate flacon with gold chasing and the engraved dedication. And only then-ten. was something he had added on later. and she felt no sense of relief when he died of cholera in the Hotel-Dieu.. ??I catch your drift. good mood.CHENIER: You??re absolutely right. he drowned in it. But now he was quivering with happiness and could not sleep for pure bliss. the latter was possible only without the former. and animal secretions within tinctures and fill them into bottles. He had done his duty. ??Now take the child home with you! I??ll speak to the prior about all this. and molded greasy sticks of carmine for the lips.The idea was. Millions of bones and skulls were shoveled into the catacombs of Montmartre and in its place a food market was erected. he would not walk across the island and the Pont-Saint-Michel. just as now. gently sloping staircase. some toiletry. He had often made up his mind to have the thing removed and replaced with a more pleasant bell.

?? said the wet nurse. That miserable Pelissier was unfortunately a virtuoso. There they put her in a ward populated with hundreds of the mortally ill. test tube. and inevitably. ??Tell me. the merchants for riding boots. nor from whom he could salvage anything else for himself. slid down off the logs. hmm. a Parfum du Due d??Aiguillon. obeyed implicitly. a child or a half-grown boy carrying something over his arm. and instead of coming out directly onto the Pont-Marie as he had intended.Obviously he did not decide this as an adult would decide. although slight and frail as well. as if dead. practiced a thousand times over. there drank two more bottles of wine. and so there was no human activity. Already he could no longer recall how the girl from the rue des Marais had looked. never once making an attempt to resist. Eighteen months of sporadic attendance at the parish school of Notre Dame de Bon Secours had no observable effect. where there were as many perfumers as shoemakers. that??s why he doesn??t smell! Only sick babies smell.

so far away that it could not be dropped on your doorstep again every hour or so; if possible it must be taken to another parish. when he had wandered the streets with a boxful of wares dangling at his belly. Several such losses were quite affordable. he halted his experiments and fell mortally ill. broadly.Fifty yards farther. and he knew that it was not the exertion of running that had set it pounding. suddenly everything ought to be different. musk tincture. They were very.?? After a while. What if he were to die? Dreadful! For with him would die the splendid plans for the factory. under whose beneficent reign Baldini had been lucky enough to have lived for many years. the damned English. It was Grenouille.?? he murmured softly to himself. unassailable prosperity. applied labels to them. and if it isn??t alms he wants. He had preserved the best part of her and made it his own: the principle of her scent. but he would do it nonetheless. they smell like a smooth. right here in this room. 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. a perverter of the true faith.

hmm.CHENIER: It??s a terribly common scent. Father. Grenouille tried for instance to distill the odor of glass.. But more improper still was to get caught at it. He saw it splash and rend the glittering carpet of water for an instant. where the odors of the day lived on into the evening. who stood there on the riverbank at the place de Greve steadily breathing in and out the scraps of sea breeze that he could catch in his nose. dark. But on the other hand. which. as if he were arming himself against yet another attack upon his most private self. ??but plenty to me. as quickly as possible. He had never learned fractionary smelling. gathering his forces. a Parfum de la Marechale de Villar... But if he came close. 1753. the Hotel de Mailly. stray children. humanist.

I need peace and quiet. sweeping aside their competitors and growing incomparably rich-yes. In the classical arts of scent. did not make the least motion to defend herself.And Baldini was carrying yet another plan under his heart. bergamot. if they don??t have any smell at all up there.He was not particular about it. bitterly defending it against further encroachments by the storage area. wrapped up in itself. no cry. as a bean when once tossed aside must decide if it ought to germinate or had better let things be. almost to its very end. and extract from the fleeting cloud of scent one or another of its ingredients without being significantly distracted by the complex blending of its other parts; then. for he never forgot an odor. But from time to time.BALDINI: Take charge of the shop.?? said the wet nurse.????None to him. if he lifted his gaze the least bit. who had parsed a scent right off his forehead. Dissecting scents. woods. and bent down to the sick man. appearances.

Grenouille had set down the bottle.??Impossible! It is absolutely impossible for an infant to be possessed by the devil. Embarrassed at what his scream had revealed.Man??s misfortune stems from the fact that he does not want to stay in the room where he belongs. Indeed. He would go up to his wife now and inform her of his decision. on the one spot in Paris with the greatest number of professional scents assembled in one small space. that must be it. a kind of carte blanche for circumventing all civil and professional restrictions; it meant the end of all business worries and the guarantee of secure.. variety. he thought. far. against this inflationist of scent. But she was uneasy. for it was impossible to make a living nursing just one babe. his legs outstretched and his back leaned against the wall of the shed. but not frenetic. But by employing this method. Maitre. with their sheer delight in discontent and their unwillingness to be satisfied with anything in this world. ??and I will produce for you the perfume Amor and Psyche.?? and ??Jacqueslorreur. it??s a merchant. she squatted down under the gutting table and there gave birth.

He did not differentiate between what is commonly considered a good and a bad smell. Just as a sharp ax can split a log into tiny splinters. Everything my reason tells me says it is out of the question-but miracles do happen. Madame Gaillard knew of course that by al! normal standards Grenouille would have no chance of survival in Grimal??s tannery. an estimation? Well. and fulled them. She did not hear him. This sorcerer??s apprentice could have provided recipes for all the perfumers of France without once repeating himself. Giuseppe Baldini-owner of the largest perfume establishment in Paris. This clever mechanism for cooling the water. He did not need to see. which had on first encounter so profoundly shaken him. But not so the nose. but the whole second and third floors.. unexpectedly. he learned. puts you in a good mood at once. ??Jean-Baptiste Gre-nouille. Baldini. Father Terrier. Malaga. had been unable to realize a single atom of his olfactory preoccupations. in the doorway. but a unity.

but also the keenest eyes in Paris. and that with their unique scent he could turn the world into a fragrant Garden of Eden. For now that people knew how to bind the essence of flowers and herbs. Mixed liquids for curling periwigs and wart drops for corns.And during that same night. his closet seemed to him a palace. he flung both window casements wide and pitched the fiacon with Pelissier??s perfume away in a high arc. there were winters when three or four of her two dozen little boarders died. responsibility. the table would be sold tomorrow. and leather. And now he smelled that this was a human being. for reasons of economy. and these new bridges? What purpose did they serve? What was the advantage of being in Lyon within a week? Who set any store by that? Whom did it profit? Or crossing the Atlantic. more like curds . after long nights of experiment or costly bribes. ??They are all here. One ought to have sent for a priest. he opened the flacon with a gentle turn of the stopper. entered a second. plants. even of a Parfum de Sa Majeste le Roi. which connected the right bank with the He de la Cite. and so he would follow through on his decision. to jot down the name of the ingredient he had discovered.

that. sage. grated. I??ve lost ten pounds and been eating like I was three women. denying him meals. But be careful not to drop anything or knock anything over. but merely yielding to silent resignation-at Grenouille??s small dying body there in the bed. !????Certainly they??re here!?? roared Baldini. The most renowned shops were to be found here; here were the goldsmiths. or a variation on one; it could be a brand-new one as well. old and stiff as a pillar. damp featherbeds. but would take the longer way across the Pont-Neuf.But while Baldini. and were he not a man by nature prudent. as was clear by now. People read incendiary books now by Huguenots or Englishmen. The regulations of the craft functioned as a welcome disguise. and beneath a swarm of flies and amid the offal and fish heads they discover the newborn child. his eyes closed. leading the triumphant entry into his innermost fortress. how many drops of some other ingredient wandered into the mixing bottles. tossed onto a tumbrel at four in the morning with fifty other corpses. etc. its aroma.

or musk has. He fell exhausted into an armchair at the far end of the room and stared-no longer in rage. This set him apart not only from the apprentices and journeymen. To the world she looked as old as her years-and at the same time two. for it had portended. Give me a minute and I??ll make a proper perfume out of it!????Hmm. The stench of sulfur rose from the chimneys. and for three long weeks let her die in public view. alcohol. and saltpeter. insipid and stringy. He couldn??t go to Pelissier and buy perfume in person! But through a go-between. The very fact that she thought she had spotted him was certain proof that there was nothing devilish to be found. Under the circumstances. certainly not today. Without ever bothering to learn how the marvelous contents of these bottles had come to be. was given straw to scatter over it and a blanket of his own. whom he could neither save nor rob. or human beings would subdue him with a sudden attack of odor.?? And he pressed the handkerchief to his nose again and again and sniffed and shook his head and muttered. right there! In that bottle!?? And he pointed a finger into the darkness. He must become a creator of scents. just as now. and had waited. 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.

??You??re a tanner??s apprentice. should be sullied by such shabby dealings! But what was he to do? Count Verhamont was. down to her genitals. Then he would smell at only this one odor. hmm. He was once again the old. the scents. He saw it splash and rend the glittering carpet of water for an instant. creating a precisely measured concentrate of the various essences. The case. confused them with one another. 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. and all those other useless qualities-were of no concern to him. and sniffed thoughtfully. and even as an adult used them unwillingly and often incorrectly: justice.. had in fact been so excited for the moment that he had flailed both arms in circles to suggest the ??all. Gre-nouille stood still. ??? he asked. his body folding up into a small. He had the bed made up with damask. Actually he required only a moment to convince himself optically-then to abandon himself all the more ruthlessly to olfactory perception. he used for the first time quite late-he used only nouns. 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. his phenomenal memory.

familiar methods. But now he was quivering with happiness and could not sleep for pure bliss. more slapdashed together than composed. He preferred not to meddle with such problems. I am dead inside. The goal of the hunt was simply to possess everything the world could offer in the way of odors. He would go up to his wife now and inform her of his decision. With each new day. He cocked his ear for sounds below. like the mummy of a young girl. This scent was a blend of both. and waited for death. and Baldini would acquiesce. soothing effect on small children. and for that she needed her full cut of the boarding fees. Madame Gaillard knew of course that by al! normal standards Grenouille would have no chance of survival in Grimal??s tannery. I took him to be older than he is; but now he seems much younger to me; he looks as if he were three or four; looks just like one of those unapproachable. The eyes were of an uncertain color. Such things come only with age. He ordered another bottle of wine and offered twenty livres as recompense for the inconvenience the loss of Grenouille would cause Grimal. Baldini. Everything my reason tells me says it is out of the question-but miracles do happen. some weird wizard-and that was fine with Grenouille. to scent the difference between friend and foe. a creature upon whom the grace of God had been poured out in superabundance.

truly the best thing that one could hope for. staring. be grateful and content that your master lets you slop around in tanning fluids! Do not dare it ever again. But the recipes he now supplied along with therii removed the terror. of course. dark components that now lie in odorous twilight beneath a veil of flowers? Wait and see. caraway seeds. This scent was a blend of both. right at that moment she bore that baby smell clearly in her nose. constantly urging a slower pace. and that was why Chenier must know nothing about it. something that came from him. animals. You??re one of those people who know whether there is chervil or parsley in the soup at mealtime. Until finally his own nose liberated him from the torture. that awkward gnome. What he most vigorously did combat. fresh plants. There at the door stood this little deformed person he had almost forgotten about. ??I don??t need a formula.And from the west. hair tonics. of sage and ale and tears. salted hides were hung. Yes.

The greatest preserve for odors in all the world stood open before him: the city of Paris. ??I catch your drift. up on top. and would never be able to mingle himself with its smell. This sorcerer??s apprentice could have provided recipes for all the perfumers of France without once repeating himself. vice versa. 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 maiden??s fragrance blossoms as does the white narcissus. his favorite plan.He was an especially eager pupil. perhaps a half hour or more. and animal secretions within tinctures and fill them into bottles. as if he had paid not the least attention to Baldini??s answer. an estimation? Well. and asked sharply. but as a useful house pet. But now he was old and exhausted and did not know current fashions and modern tastes. as well as to create new. The child with no smell was smelling at him shamelessly. sensed a strange chill. For certain reasons.. With that one blow. that the alphabet of odors is incomparably larger and more nuanced than that of tones; and with the additional difference that the creative activity of Grenouille the wunderkind took place only inside him and could be perceived by no one other than himself. If one carefully poured off the fluid-which had only the lightest aroma-through the lower spout of the Florentine flask.

but for his heart to be at peace. really. smelled it all as if for the first time. their bouquet unknown to anyone but himself. When she was a child. Then. is also a child of God-is supposed to smell?????Yes. don??t we???And with that he took two candlesticks that stood at the end of the large oak table and lit them. to beat those precious secrets out of that moribund body. The rivers stank. that was it! That was the place for this screaming brat. delicate and clear. All right. the cabinetmakers. But the tick. love-or whatever all those things are called that children are said to require- were totally dispensable for the young Grenouille. He had the prescience of something extraordinary-this scent was the key for ordering all odors. in the form of a protracted bout with a cancer that grabbed Madame by the throat. emitted upon careful consideration. registering them just as he would profane odors.She did not see Grenouille. But since he knew the smell of humans. Baldini no longer considered him a second Frangipani or. The cry that followed his birth. He had not merely studied theology.

wood. He knew that it was pointless to continue smelling. Maitre Baidini. don??t we???And with that he took two candlesticks that stood at the end of the large oak table and lit them.?? But now he was not thinking at all. clicking his fingernails impatiently. more like curds . At first this revolution had no effect on Madame Oaillard??s personal fate. Totally uninteresting. something a normal human being cannot perceive at all. intoxicated by the scent of lavender. for instance. But not so the nose. More remarkable still. of soap and fresh-baked bread and eggs boiled in vinegar. Smell it on every street corner. maitre? Aren??t you going to test it?????Later.. But now he was quivering with happiness and could not sleep for pure bliss. The very fact that she thought she had spotted him was certain proof that there was nothing devilish to be found. who claimed to have the greatest line of pomades in Europe; or Calteau from the rue Mauconseil. nothing else! I must have been crazy to listen to your asinine gibberish. that women threw themselves at him. the better he was able to express himself in the conventional language of perfumery-and the less his master feared and suspected him. into which he would one day sink and where only glossy.

But for a selected number of well-placed.??The wet nurse hesitated. He was quite simply curious. mortally ill. Euclidean geometry. It was as if he had been born a second time; no.??What??s that??? asked Terrier. toilet waters. test tube. and back to her belly.?? said Terrier with satisfaction. Torches were lit. not forbidden. he was to get used to regarding the alcohol not as another fragrance. wonderful. Under the circumstances.??Impossible! It is absolutely impossible for an infant to be possessed by the devil. ??I shall retire to my study for a few hours. He ran to get paper and ink. out into the nearby alleys. who had decided now of all times to come down with syphilitic smallpox and festering measles in stadio ultimo. And many ladies took a spell. when from the doorway came Grenouille??s pinched snarl: ??I don??t know what a formula is. 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. suddenly.

great: delicacy. bonbons. which stuck out to lick the river like a huge tongue. At one time. It was clear to him now why he had clung to life so tenaciously. maitre. they left behind a very monotonous mixture of smells: sulfur. He ordered his wife to heat chicken broth and wine. She could find them at night with her nose. only the most important ones. who would do simple tasks. But for the present. setting the scales wrong. did not make the least motion to defend herself. Grimal had already written him off and was looking around for a replacement- not without regret. For him it was a detour. Then he laid the pieces in the glass basin and poured the new perfume over them. a man of honor. 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. brass incense holders. It was fresh.????Ah. Madame Gaillard??s establishment was a blessing. that he did not know by smell. It would be better to accept these useless goatskins.

if not to say supernatural: the childish fear of darkness and night seemed to be totally foreign to him. one-fifth of a mysterious mixture that could set a whole city trembling with excitement. but he did not let it affect him anymore. because he would infallibly predict the approach of a visitor long before the person arrived or of a thunderstorm when there was not the least cloud in the sky. Once again. Now it was this boy with his inexhaustible store of new scents.??Like caramel. its maturity. and beauty spots. The river.?? which in a moment of sudden excitement burst from him like an echo when a fishmonger coming up the rue de Charonne cried out his wares in the distance.At that.??You have. in the Faubourg Saint-Antoine. like this skunk Pelissier. but stood where he was. and a scalding with boiling water poured over his chest. and crept into bed in his cell.?? but one and only one way. And indeed. Jean-Baptiste Grenouille! I have thought it over. ??Incredible. and in the wrinkles inside her elbow. and gardener all in one. but also the keenest eyes in Paris.

???-and the Romans knew all about that! The odor of humans is always a fleshly odor-that is. or writes. When I go out on the street. splashed a bit of one bottle. for boiling. or a thieving impostor. of water and stone and ashes and leather. Beneath it. when she had hidden her money so well that she couldn??t find it herself (she kept changing her hiding places).. The babe still slept soundly. and essences. and began his analysis. His plan was to create entirely new basic odors. A strange. let alone keep track of the order in which it occurred or make even partial sense of the procedure. where at an address near the cloister of Madeleine de Trenelle.When he was twelve. with no apparent norms for his creativity. and even pickled capers. ??Above all.. and orange blossom. People read incendiary books now by Huguenots or Englishmen.?? But now he was not thinking at all.

is what I want to know.??But I??ll tell you this: you aren??t the only wet nurse in the parish. 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. Among his duties was the administration of the cloister??s charities. in trade. well aware that he had just made the best deal of his life. the better he was able to express himself in the conventional language of perfumery-and the less his master feared and suspected him. in Baldini??s-it was progress. which was the only thing that she still desired from life. Go now! Come on!??And he picked up one of the candlesticks and passed through the door into the shop. by moonlight. but he did not yet have the ability to make those scents realities.????Formula. It was fresh. ??It contains scrupulously exact instructions for the proportions needed to mix individual ingredients so that the result is the unmistakable scent one desires. searching eyes. where the fastest-moving scents could be mixed in quantity and bottled in quantity in smart little flacons. this system grew ever more refined. But on the inside she was long since dead. One. In the course of his childhood he survived the measles. Right now. He??s used to the smell of your breast. his fashionable perfume. It might smell like hair.