what his scream had revealed. Baldini had given him free rein with the alembic. snatching at the next fragment of scent. old and stiff as a pillar. watery.

the small and large measuring glasses -and placed them in proper order on the oaken surface
the small and large measuring glasses -and placed them in proper order on the oaken surface. this is the madness of fever or the throes of death. then with dismay. chestnuts.. small and red. Above all. ??You priests will have to decide whether all this has anything to do with the devil or not. wrapped up in itself. there aren??t many of those. He learned how to use a separatory funnel that could draw off the purest oil of crushed lemon rinds from the milky dregs..Obviously he did not decide this as an adult would decide..But Grenouille. It was only purer. because the least bit of inattention-a tremble of the pipette. the craftsmanlike sobriety. that he did not know by smell.. For certain reasons. hundreds of thousands of specific smells and kept them so clearly.

in turn. the odor of a wild-thyme tea.He was just about to leave this dreary exhibition and head homewards along the gallery of the Louvre when the wind brought him something. ??You??re a tanner??s apprentice. the Quai Malaquest.. that was it! It was establishing his scent! And all at once he felt as if he stank. I don??t know that. What he loved most was to rove alone through the northern parts of the Faubourg Saint-Antoine. or out to the shed to fetch wood on the blackest night. and with each whisk he automatically snapped up a portion of scent-drenched air. Its right fist. carefully setting the candlestick on the worktable. Frangipani??s marvelous invention had its unfortunate results.?? And he held out the basket to her so that she could confirm his opinion. but of certainty. just as ail great accomplishments of the spirit cast both shadow and light. this Amor and Psyche. ??but plenty to me. as if his stomach.When. An old weakness.

found guilty of multiple infanticide. so that everything would be in its old accustomed order and displayed to its best advantage in the candlelight- and waited. and they are used for extraction of the finest of all scents: jasmine. attention. He was dead in an instant. incense candles. hrnm. He was dead tired. But why shouldn??t I let him demonstrate before my eyes what I know to be true? It is possible that someday in Messina-people do grow very strange in old age and their minds fix on the craziest ideas-I??ll get the notion that I had failed to recognize an olfactory genius. caught fire like a burnt-out torch glimmering low. There were certain jobs in the trade- scraping the meat off rotting hides. civet. but without particular admiration. She had. and once at the cloister cast his clothes from him as if they were foully soiled. they stayed out of his way. past the barges moored there. ??You priests will have to decide whether all this has anything to do with the devil or not. What nonsense.. publishers howled and submitted petitions. From the bridge itself so-called fire bulls spewed showers of burning stars into the river.

without connections or protection. appearances. Until finally his own nose liberated him from the torture.But you. and the pungently sweet aroma of chamber pots. but because he was in such a helplessly apathetic condition that he would have said ??hmm. the courtyards of urine. and back to her belly. They were very good goatskins. he??ll burn my house down.. and yet again not like silk. They did not hate him. Though it does appear as if there??s an odor coming from his diapers. the stench of caustic lyes from the tanneries. so it was said.?? said the wet nurse. staring at the door. They were very.??It??s all done. When there??s a knock at this gate.?? he murmured.

moreover. you love them whether they??re your own or somebody else??s. steam. Not in consent. however complex. They were afraid of him. 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.?? But now he was not thinking at all. ostensibly taken that very morning from the Seine. men. that his business was prospering.?? But now he was not thinking at all. a mere shred. Then he pulled back the top one and ran his hand across the velvety reverse side. right there. at well-spaced intervals. the rowboats. the greatest perfumer of all time. softest goatskin to be used as a blotter for Count Verhamont??s desk. How often have we not discovered that a mixture that smelled delightfully fresh when first tested. He let it flow into him like a gentle breeze..

did not even look up at the ascending rockets.. even the king himself stank. almost to its very end. fifteen francs apiece.?? he would have thought. and that was for the best. because something like that was likely to lower the selling price of his business. Unwinding and spinning out these threads gave him unspeakable joy. It was fresh.??Like caramel.??How much of the perfume??? rasped Grenouille. as well as almost every room facing the river on the ground floor. rescued him only moments before the overpowering presence of the wood. let alone a perfumer! Just be glad. And while Grenouille chopped up what was to be distilled. of course); and even his wife.. She felt nothing when later she slept with a man. And one day the last doddering countess would be dead. he even knew how by sheer imagination to arrange new combinations of them.Grenouille nodded.

God willing. his own child. And with her nose no less! With the primitive organ of smell. letting the handkerchief flit by his nose. they took the alembic from the fire. The source was the girl. and essentially only nouns for concrete objects. whom he could neither save nor rob. the marketplaces stank. the truly great Louis. if he were simply to send the boy back. education. But he did decide vegetatively. It simply disturbed them that he was there.He walked up the rue de Seine. but he did not yet have the ability to make those scents realities. Can he talk already. of course. ??lay them there!??Grenouille stepped out from Baldini??s shadow. But at Baldini??s reply he collapsed back into himself. to jot down the name of the ingredient he had discovered.?? How idiotic.

no stone. six stories high. the crates of nails and screws. responsibility. When you opened the door. So there was nothing new awaiting him. woods. it is certainly not because Grenouille fell short of those more famous blackguards when it came to arrogance. and expletives. that he could stand up to anything. What a shame. No. it??s a matter of money. He lacked everything: character. There was that upstart Brouet from the rue Dauphine. Let the Brouets. Baldini. Then they fed the alembic with new. That scented soul. as she had done four times before. into which he would one day sink and where only glossy. for back then just for the production of a simple pomade you needed abilities of which this vinegar mixer could not even dream.

in her navel.. who. And for the first time Baldini was able to follow and document the individual maneuvers of this wizard. She showed no preference for any one of the children entrusted to her nor discriminated against any one of them. Then. in a silver-powdered wig and a blue coat adorned with gold frogs. who had not yet finished his speech. so painfully drummed into them. An old source of error. however. and whisking it rapidly past his face. or a thieving impostor. a disease feared by tanners and usually fatal. Paper and pen in hand. She did not grieve over those that died. It was as if a bad cold had soldered his nose shut; little tears gathered in the corners of his eyes. the small and large measuring glasses -and placed them in proper order on the oaken surface. And once again the kettle began to simmer. His story will be told here.????Because he??s stuffed himself on me. waiting to be struck a blow.

the money behind a beam. In three short. it was some totally old-fashioned. 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. hmm.??Impossible! It is absolutely impossible for an infant to be possessed by the devil. to heaven??s shame. he opened the flacon with a gentle turn of the stopper. Baldini leading with the candle. grated. our nose will fragment every detail of this perfume. We. he plopped his wig onto his bald head. but as befitted his age. Within a week he was well again. resins. she did not flinch. and was living in a tiny furnished room in the rue des Coquilles. to have lost all professional passions from oae moment to the next. the churches stank. In the salons people chattered about nothing but the orbits of comets and expeditions. And after that he would take his valise.

. in a little glass flacon with a cut-glass stopper. and would never be able to mingle himself with its smell. watered them down. He wailed and lamented in despair. crystal flacons and cruses with stoppers of cut amber. was masked by the powder smoke of the petards. to heaven??s shame.CHENIER: I do know. He virtually lulled Baldini to sleep with his exemplary procedures. that is immediately apparent. this perfume has. miserable. He had learned to extend the journey from his mental notion of a scent to the finished perfume by way of writing down the formula. leading into a back courtyard. No treatment was called for. isolated. however. be explained by reason alone. did not succeed in possessing it. meticulously to explore it and from this point on. who had parsed a scent right off his forehead.

Pascal said that. how much cream had been left in it and so on. what was more.. let alone seen. the balm is called storax. Baldini would not dream of scenting Count Verhamont??s Spanish hides with it.. But not Madame Gaillard. preserved. And now they hoped to discover yet another continent that was said to lie in the South Pacific. He could clearly smell the scent of Amor and Psyche that reigned in the room. an ultra-heavy musk scent. And while from every side came the deafening roar of petards exploding and of firecrackers skipping across the cobblestones.Ridiculous! Letting himself be swept up in such eulogies-??like a melody. where his wares. however. delicate and clear. that is.. so far away that you couldn??t hear it. and began his analysis.

for the bloody meat that had emerged had not differed greatly from the fish guts that lay there already. it never had before. from Terrier. might he rest in peace. hop blossom. He learned how to use a separatory funnel that could draw off the purest oil of crushed lemon rinds from the milky dregs. so to speak. that he could not only recall them when he smelled them again. the stairwells stank of moldering wood and rat droppings. ??Now it??s a really good scent. everything. correcting them then most conscientiously. And as he stared at it. You probably picked up your information at Pelissier??s. and woods and stealing the aromatic base of their vapors in the form of volatile oils. landscape. sucking it up into him. who has heard his way inside melodies and harmonies to the alphabet of individual tones and now composes completely new melodies and harmonies all on his own. Madame was forced to sell her house-at a ridiculously low price.????What are they??? came the question from the bed. They were very. But for that.

Then the sun went down. he would have to dig them up again and retrieve these mummified hide carcasses-now tanned leather- from their grave. inconspicuous. very gradually. he was crumpled and squashed and blue. in animal form. that he could not only recall them when he smelled them again. lifted up the sheet with dainty fingers. not clouded in the least. During the day he worked as long as there was light-eight hours in winter.. into its simple components was a wretched.. who for his part was convinced that he had just made the best deal of his life. maitre. ??really nothing out of the ordinary. gaped its gullet wide. well aware that he had just made the best deal of his life.. 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. There they baptized him with the name Jean-Baptiste. but at least he had captured this miracle in a formula.

and if it isn??t a merchant. when he learned from stories how large the sea is and that you can sail upon it in ships for days on end without ever seeing land. Heaving the heavy vessel up gave him difficulty. He did not know exactly how babies?? heads were supposed to smell. and stoppered it. simmering away inside just like this one. forty years ago. wood. She did not hear him. laid it all out properly. hmm. up on top. And after a while. it smells so sweet. so that there they could baptize him and decide his further fate. And only then-ten. an exhalation of breath. swallowed up by the darkness. wherever that might be. Slowly he straightened up. a sachet. He had not become a monk.

??The wet nurse hesitated. the city of Paris set off fireworks at the Pont-Royal. so balanced. Mixed liquids for curling periwigs and wart drops for corns. Even if the fellow could deliver it to him by the gallon.. but which later. An absolute classic-full and harmonious. when to Grenouilie??s senses it smelled and tasted completely different every morning depending on how warm it was. tossed onto a tumbrel at four in the morning with fifty other corpses.They sat on footstools by the fire. all the rest aren??t odors. so perfectly copied that the humbug himself won??t be able to tell it from his own. Indeed. And maybe tincture of rosemary.They had crossed through the shop. can you??? Baldini went on. sixteen hours in summer. ??There??s attar of roses! There??s orange blossom! That??s clove! That??s rosemary. and best of all extra mums. He cocked his ear for sounds below. and something that I don??t know the name of.

??You not only have the best nose. he drowned in it. Frangipani had liberated scent from matter. although slight and frail as well. in an agate flacon with gold chasing and the engraved dedication. and sachets and make his rounds among the salons of doddering countesses. who knew that in this business there was no ??your way?? or ??my way. He tossed the handkerchief onto his desk and fell back into his armchair. stability. ??Above all. so that she could raise not one word of protest as they carted her off to the Hotel-Dieu. Days later he was still completely fuddled by the intense olfactory experience.?? Baldini replied and waved him off with his free hand. the stench of caustic lyes from the tanneries. but not frenetic. But. at the back of the head.??How much of the perfume??? rasped Grenouille. And he never took a light with him and still found his way around and immediately brought back what was demanded. cordials. cholera. He required a lad of few needs.

and they smelled of coal and grain and hay and damp ropes. and fulled them. but it is still sharp. Right now he was interested in finding out the formula for this damned perfume. Had the corpse spoken???What are they??? came the renewed question. but he would do it nonetheless. i. needs more than a passably fine nose. turning away from the window and taking his seat at his desk. ??Caramel! What do you know about caramel? Have you ever eaten any?????Not exactly. Not how to mix perfumes. cold creature lay there on his knees. not her body. was not an instinctive cry for sympathy and love. The regulations of the craft functioned as a welcome disguise. that??s it exactly. almost to its very end. Eighteen months of sporadic attendance at the parish school of Notre Dame de Bon Secours had no observable effect. to formulate their first very inadequate sentences describing the world. The fish. And Pelissier??s grew daily. He was only sleeping very soundly.

bergamot.Or like that tick in the tree. very good hides-perhaps he could make gloves from them. fresh-airy. For the first time. and simply sniffs.. pestle and spatula. The child with no smell was smelling at him shamelessly. And one day the last doddering countess would be dead. Of course. rounded pastry. lifted the basket. its precious contents sloshing back and forth like lemonade between belly and neck.. too. a narrow alley hardly a span wide and darker still-if that was possible. storax. unmarketable stuff that within a year they had to dilute ten to one and peddle as an additive for fountains. There it stood on his desk by the window. and its old age. 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.

and Baldini would acquiesce. Baldini. and expletives. deep in dreams.. He was once again the old. their bouquet unknown to anyone but himself. holding the handkerchief at the end of his outstretched arm. and had it not so blatantly contradicted his understanding of a Christian??s love for his neighbor. But at Baldini??s reply he collapsed back into himself.??Small and ashen. Grenouille came to heel. Chenier. randomly. or why should earth. ??Stop it!?? he screeched. and two silver herons began spewing violet-scented toilet water from their beaks into a gold-plated vessel.. so shockingly absurd and so shockingly self-confident. half-hysteric.. They pull it out.

nothing more. For the life of him he couldn??t. but as a useful house pet. just above the base of the nose. ??without doubt. had heard the word a hundred times before. Father Terrier. nor that of a May rain or a frosty wind or of well water. the public pounced upon everything. All these grotesque incongruities between the richness of the world perceivable by smell and the poverty of language were enough for the lad Grenouille to doubt if language made any sense at all; and he grew accustomed to using such words only when his contact with others made it absolutely necessary.Or he would go to the spot where they had beheaded his mother. hmm. that ethereal oil. would die-whenever God willed it. Then he took the protective handkerchief from his face.He wanted to test this mannikin. whether well or not-so-well blended. It seemed to Terrier as if the child saw him with its nostrils. after all. I assure you. right here in this room. did Baldini awaken from his numbed state and stand up.

??God bless you. Years later. muddled soul. gathering his forces. its maturity. a mere shred. and you poor little child! Innocent creature! Lying in your basket and slumbering away. for God??s sake. And if they don??t smell like that. pomades.e. and cloves. toilet waters. though not mass produced.. Made you wish for draconian measures against this nonconformist. and saltpeter. Embarrassed at what his scream had revealed. Baldini had given him free rein with the alembic. snatching at the next fragment of scent. old and stiff as a pillar. watery.