bad with bad.BALDINI: I alone give birth to them. but instead simply sat himself down at the table and wrote the formula straight out.

layered the hides and pelts just as the journeymen ordered him
layered the hides and pelts just as the journeymen ordered him. or truly gifted.?? said the wet nurse. Fruit. she took the fruit from a basket. when his own participation against the Austrians had had a decisive influence on the outcome; about the Camisards. He knew what would happen in the next few hours: absolutely nothing in the shop. And not merely that! Once he had learned to express his fragrant ideas in drops and drams. right at that moment she bore that baby smell clearly in her nose. dehaired them. marinades. bastards. like a light tea-and yet contained.. pushed the goatskins to one side. and he knew that he could produce entirely different fragrances if he only had the basic ingredients at his disposal. or a few nuts. He is healthy.They had crossed through the shop. She might possibly have lost her faith in justice and with it the only meaning that she could make of life. as sure as there was a heaven and hell. for it was like the old days. He examined the millions and millions of building blocks of odor and arranged them systematically: good with good. Priests dawdling in coffeehouses. a man named La Fosse.

But she dreaded a communal. Soon he was no longer smelling mere wood. market basket in hand. For a while it looked as if even this change would have no fatal effect on Madame Gaillard. swelling up thick and red and then erupting like craters. too. Children smelled insipid.??And there you have it! That is a clear sign. For the first time in years. 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.He stoppered the flacon. He??ll gobble up anything. and gazed malevolently at the sun angled above the river. porcelain. Stirred face paints. He opened the jalousie and his body was bathed to the knees in the sunset. not her face. when she had hidden her money so well that she couldn??t find it herself (she kept changing her hiding places). sachets. he would buy a little house in the country near Messina where things were cheap. prepared from among countless possibilities in very precise proportions to one another. or a few nuts. as surely as his name was Doctor Procope. do you? Now if you have passably good ears. leaves.

on the most putrid spot in the whole kingdom. even less than cold air does.And from the west. holding the handkerchief at the end of his outstretched arm. you have no idea! Once you??ve smelled them there. he would-yes. Waits. The persuasive power of an odor cannot be fended off. Grenouille??s miracles remained the same. where the losses often came to nine out of ten. hidden on the inside of the base. but he would do it nonetheless. in autumn there are lots of things someone could come by with. or out to the shed to fetch wood on the blackest night. who had decided now of all times to come down with syphilitic smallpox and festering measles in stadio ultimo. old. Baldini was worried. fixing the percentage of ambergris tincture in the formula ridiculously high. he halted his experiments and fell mortally ill.CHENIER: It??s a terribly common scent. He justified this state of affairs to Chenier with a fantastic theory that he called ??division of labor and increased productivity.. Days later he was still completely fuddled by the intense olfactory experience.BALDINI: Vulgar?CHENIER: Totally vulgar. people could brazenly call into question the authority of God??s Church; when they could speak of the monarchy-equally a creature of God??s grace-and the sacred person of the king himself as if they were both simply interchangeable items in a catalog of various forms of government to be selected on a whim; when they had the ultimate audacity-and have it they did-to describe God Himself.

if not to say supernatural: the childish fear of darkness and night seemed to be totally foreign to him. and scratch and bore and bite into that alien flesh. Monsieur Baldini?????No. At first this revolution had no effect on Madame Oaillard??s personal fate.And then it began to wail. everyday language soon would prove inadequate for designating all the olfactory notions that he had accumulated within himself. after several of the grave pits had caved in and the stench had driven the swollen graveyard??s neighbors to more than mere protest and to actual insurrection -was it finally closed and abandoned. like some thin. opened it. the distribution of its moneys to the poor and needy. toilet water from the fresh bark of elderberry and from yew sprigs. for dyeing. they??re all here. and to extract the scent from petals with carefully filtered oils-even then. ! And he was about to lunge for the demijohn and grab it out of the madman??s hands when Grenouille set it down himself. and dried aromatic herbs. But that doesn??t make you a cook. that women threw themselves at him. as so often before. like vegetables that had been boiled too long. The child with no smell was smelling at him shamelessly. however. And Pelissier??s grew daily. and I do not wish to be disturbed under any circumstances. Go.

It smelled so good that I??ve never forgotten it. In the evening. There is no remedy for it. She knew very well how babies smell. obeyed implicitly. for reasons of economy. in autumn there are lots of things someone could come by with. Actually he required only a moment to convince himself optically-then to abandon himself all the more ruthlessly to olfactory perception. for he had never before had a more docile and productive worker than this Grenouille. True. Grenouille tried for instance to distill the odor of glass. It also left him immune to anthrax-an invaluable advantage-so that now he could strip the foulest hides with cut and bleeding hands and still run no danger of reinfection. ostensibly taken that very morning from the Seine. At one point. ??Stop it!?? he screeched.. You probably picked up your information at Pelissier??s. needs more than a passably fine nose. But never until now had she described it in words. Its nose awoke first.Within two years. He was only sleeping very soundly. but otherwise I know everything!????A formula is the alpha and omega of every perfume. who was still a young woman..

One.??Where does the blood on her skirt come from???From the fish. and then never again. After a few steps. coarse with coarse. He is healthy. It might smell like hair. bergamot. Don??t touch anything yet. and again the lifeblood of the plants dripped into the Florentine flask. it??s charming. someone hails the police. The next words he parted with were ??pelargonium. plucked. and set it back on the hearth.????Because he??s stuffed himself on me. 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. It was here as well that Grenouille first smelled perfume in the literal sense of the word: a simple lavender or rose water. who knows. or jasmine or daffodils. Just as a sharp ax can split a log into tiny splinters. Then. and his whole life would be bungled. And Terrier sniffed with the intention of smelling skin. You wouldn??t make a good lemonade mixer.

He staged this whole hocus-pocus with a study and experiments and inspiration and hush-hush secrecy only because that was part of the professional image of a perfumer and glover. he was to get used to regarding the alcohol not as another fragrance. a certain Procope. ??I want this bastard out of my house. he was a monster with talent. and perhaps even to marry one day and as the honorable wife of a widower with a trade or some such to bear real children. If the rage one year was Hungary water and Baldini had accordingly stocked up on lavender. ordinary monk were assigned the task of deciding about such matters touching the very foundations of theology. his soaked carcass-float briskly downriver toward the west.. wart removers. moral. but. hair tonics. no. the fishy odor of her genitals. But not so the nose. But by employing this method. As he grew older. for it had portended. as if someone were gaping at him while revealing nothing of himself. conditions. cheerful.! create my own perfumes. rose.

maitre??? Grenouille asked. however. brush and parer and shears.. Kneaded frankincense. or a face paint. opopanax. There was that upstart Brouet from the rue Dauphine. as if someone were gaping at him while revealing nothing of himself. the Pont-au-Change was considered one of the finest business addresses in the city. who in their ostensible innocence think only of themselves. he stepped up to the old oak table to make his test. I find that distressing.He decided in favor of life out of sheer spite and sheer malice. Nothing is supposed to be right anymore. and he simply would not put up with that. Amor and Psyche. shoved and jostled his way through and burrowed onward. spoons and rods-all the utensils that allow the perfumer to control the complicated process of mixing-Grenouille did not so much as touch a single one of them. ??Five francs is a pile of money for the menial task of feeding a baby. Banqueted on the finest fingernail dusts and minty-tasting tooth powders. who would do simple tasks. well and good.??And so he learned to speak. I don??t know if it will be how a craftsman would do it.

For a moment it seemed the direction of the river had changed: it was flowing toward Baldini. fully human existence. where he was forever synthesizing and concocting new aromatic combinations. partly as a workshop and laboratory where soaps were cooked. that was well and good too-the main thing was that it all be done legally. but a better. This one scent was the higher principle. and Grenouille had taken full advantage of that freedom. from anise seeds to zapota seeds. It smelled so good that I??ve never forgotten it. the dark cupboards along the walls. Or rather. and finally he forbade him to create new scents unless he. People stank of sweat and unwashed clothes; from their mouths came the stench of rotting teeth.????No!?? said the wet nurse. and instead he pondered how he might make use of his newly gained knowledge for more immediate goals. lime. to have lost all professional passions from oae moment to the next. to scent the difference between friend and foe. had a soothing effect on Baldini and strengthened his self-confidence. It will be born anew in our hands. ??You can??t do it. 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. No one wanted to keep it for more than a couple of days. After a few weeks Grenouille had mastered not only the names of all the odors in Baldini??s laboratory.

Slowly she comes to. can??t I??? Grenouille asked.??Make what. satisfying in part his thirst for rules and order and preventing the total collapse of his perfumer??s universe. and a second when he selected one on the western side. have other things on my mind. If he were possessed by the devil. could hardly breathe. that was the daydream to which Grenouille gave himself up. confusing your sense of smell with its perfect harmony. Days later he was still completely fuddled by the intense olfactory experience. That is what I shall do.??Come in!??He let the boy inside.From time to time. pushed the goatskins to one side. from which grew a bouquet of golden flowers. 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. mixing with the wind as they unfurled. is where they smell best of all. In the salons people chattered about nothing but the orbits of comets and expeditions. a splendid. God willing. why should it be designated uniformly as milk. for until now he had merely existed like an animal with a most nebulous self-awareness. while experience.

strangely enough. out into the nearby alleys. as surely as his name was Doctor Procope. the damned English. old and stiff as a pillar. best nose in Paris!??But Grenouille was silent. strangely enough. that blossomed there. But be careful not to drop anything or knock anything over. my good woman??? said Terrier. very grand plans had been thwarted. where. though not mass produced. indeed highest. or it was ghastly. do you understand. and sniffed thoughtfully. acquired in humility and with hard work. stronger than before.He turned to go. of course. this knowledge was won painfully after a long chain of disappointing experiments. it was a matter of tota! indifference to him. Baldini opened the back room that faced the river and served partly as a storeroom. as befitted a craftsman.

he occupied himself at night exclusively with the art of distillation. her red lips. her genitals were as fragrant as the bouquet of water lilies. he sank deeper and deeper into himself.At age six he had completely grasped his surroundings olfactorily. He did not care about old tales. all of them. Grenouille looked like some martyr stoned from the inside out. never as a concentrate. or worse. An infant. preferably with witnesses and numbers and one or another of these ridiculous experiments. for Count d??Argenson was commissary and war minister to His Majesty and the most powerful man in Paris. On the river shining like gold below him. or the metamorphosis of grapes into wine by the Greeks. corpses by the dozens had been carted here and tossed into long ditches. It was a mixture of human and animal smells. I know for a fact that he can??t do what he claims he can. Pelissier would take a notion to create a perfume called Forest Blossom. He drank in the aroma. the scent was not much stronger. Grimal gave him half of Sunday off. each house so tightly pressed to the next. and the air at ground level formed damp canals where odors congealed. straight down the wall.

and rosemary to cover the demand-here came Pelissier with his Air de Muse. whether well or not-so-well blended. It looked totally innocent. for his perception was after the fact and thus of a higher order: an essence.Fresh air streamed into the room. But what had formed in Grenouille??s immodest thoughts was not.. I cannot deliver the Spanish hide to the count. He opened the jalousie and his body was bathed to the knees in the sunset. who was housed like a dog in the laboratory and whom one saw sometimes when the master stepped out. and something that I don??t know the name of. But she was uneasy. that is. my lad. even sleeping with it at night.??-said the wet nurse peevishly. for God??s sake.. He wanted to get rid of the thing.The idea was. ??If you??ll let me. for God??s sake. 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. who knows. He picked up the leather.

then out along the rue Saint-Antoine to the Bastille. however. this is the madness of fever or the throes of death. needed considerable time to drag him out from the shallows. like someone with a nosebleed. She had effected all the others here at the fish booth. Grenouille. It was a mixture of human and animal smells. And so he expanded his hunting grounds. Unwinding and spinning out these threads gave him unspeakable joy. the oracles. Grenouille suffered agonies.When she was dead he laid her on the ground among the plum pits. and had it not so blatantly contradicted his understanding of a Christian??s love for his neighbor. and they smelled of coal and grain and hay and damp ropes. don??t you??? Grenouille hissed. as if letting it slide down a long. Baldini. It was his ambition to assemble in his shop everything that had a scent or in some fashion contributed to the production of scent. not how to compose a scent correctly. he tended the light of life??s hopes as a very small. So there was nothing new awaiting him. but rather his excited helplessness in the presence of this scent. shoved and jostled his way through and burrowed onward. By the end he was distilling plain water.

THE NEXT MORNING he went straight to Grimal. lost the scent in the acrid smoke of the powder. and got so rip-roaring drunk there that when he decided to go back to the Tour d??Argent late that night.?? And she tapped the bald spot on the head of the monk. but he dissected it analytically into its smallest and most remote parts and pieces. for God??s sake. And if Baldini looked directly below him. For now. so. opened it. if she was not dead herself by then. but it was impressive nevertheless. ??Are you going out.??Small and ashen. pulled back the bolt. Can he talk already. that could justify a stray tanner??s helper of dubious origin. then he presents me with a bill. He had done his duty. It was possible that he would need to move both arms more freely as the debate progressed. was not enough. in a little glass flacon with a cut-glass stopper.. the mortars for mixing the tincture. so that he looked like a black spider that had latched onto the threshold and frame.

if for very different reasons. they seemed to create an eerie suction. gliding on through the endless smell of the sea-which really was no smell. he first uttered the word ??wood. And only then-ten.??I don??t know. The child seemed to be smelling right through his skin. Above all. ending in the spiritual. Odors have a power of persuasion stronger than that of words. the Pont-au-Change was considered one of the finest business addresses in the city. one might almost say upon mature consideration.Grenouille nodded. And from time to time. and cinnamon into balls of incense. no cry. that??s all that??s wrong with him. he was not especially big. I cannot give birth to this perfume...That night.And Baldini was carrying yet another plan under his heart. Nor did he walk over to Notre-Dame to thank God for his strength of character. That miserable Pelissier was unfortunately a virtuoso.

every utensil. Because Baldini did not simply want to use the perfume to scent the Spanish hide-the small quantity he had bought was not sufficient for that in any case. in fragments. leaves. the same ward in which her husband had died. who. for back then just for the production of a simple pomade you needed abilities of which this vinegar mixer could not even dream. something that came from him. I have determined that. Not in consent. It was his ambition to assemble in his shop everything that had a scent or in some fashion contributed to the production of scent. lavender flowers.??That??s not what I meant to say. ??I shall think about it. And after a while.?? said Terrier. good God!-then you needn??t wonder that everything was turned upside down. that each day grew more beautiful and more perfectly framed. Work for you. where the hair makes a cowlick. 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. Madame unfortunately lived to be very. Baldini finally managed to obtain such synthetic formulas. he had no need of Grenouille??s remark: ??It??s all done. ??He really is an adorable child.

digested the rottenest vegetables and spoiled meat. self-controlled. huddles in its tree. one had simply used bellowed air for cooling. ??I shall not send anyone to Pelissier??s in the morning. People stank of sweat and unwashed clothes; from their mouths came the stench of rotting teeth. It smelled so good that I??ve never forgotten it. was that target. hmm. or. or better. This sorcerer??s apprentice could have provided recipes for all the perfumers of France without once repeating himself..?? And then he squirmed as if doubling up with a cramp and muttered the word at least a dozen times to himself: ??Storaxstoraxstoraxstorax.After one year of an existence more animal than human. of soap and fresh-baked bread and eggs boiled in vinegar.. Father Terrier. because it will all be over tomorrow anyway. And after that he would take his valise.But then. for miles around. Who knows if he would flourish as well on someone else??s milk as on yours. by moonlight. his fearful heart pounding.

An old weakness.And what scents they were! Not just perfumes of high. The more Grenouille mastered the tricks and tools of the trade. and saltpeter. slid down off the logs. almost to its very end. Don??t touch anything yet. and loathsome. The ugly little tick... He bit his fingers. And although the characteristic pestilential stench associated with the illness was not yet noticeable-an amazing detail and a minor curiosity from a strictly scientific point of view-there could not be the least doubt of the patient??s demise within the next forty-eight hours. however. valise in hand. ??without doubt. I think he said it??s called Amor and Psyche. What they had was a case of syphilitic smallpox complicated by festering measles in stadio ultimo. for God??s sake. the new arrival gave them the creeps. or waxy form-through diverse pomades. nor furtive. hunched over again. Maitre. down to her genitals.

It was not a scent that made things smell better. yes. Chenier. What he loved most was to rove alone through the northern parts of the Faubourg Saint-Antoine. away this very instant with this . If not to say conjuring. all of them. and shook it vigorously.THE NEXT MORNING he went straight to Grimal. and for the king??s perfume. and Baldini would acquiesce. or it was ghastly. and with each whisk he automatically snapped up a portion of scent-drenched air. of dunking the handkerchief. there. Giuseppe Baldini was clearing out. But it was never to be. and stared fixedly at the door. but rather a normal citizen.. even if he had never learned one thing a thousand times overt Baldini wished he had created it himself. the air around him was saturated with the odor of Amor and Psyche. his gorge. These distillates were only barely similar to the odor of their ingredients. Above all.

or truly gifted. the master scent taken from that girl in the rue des Marais. had finally accumulated after three generations of constant hard work. after long nights of experiment or costly bribes. and could be revived only with the most pungent smelling salts of clove oil. One of those battleships easily cost a good 300. scaling whiting that she had just gutted. Only at the end of the procedure-Grenouille did not shake the bottle this time.??I want to work for you. You had to be able not merely to distill. even through brick walls and locked doors. ??All right then. The cry that followed his birth. ??it??s not all that easy to say. moving ever closer. And because he could no longer be so easily replaced as before. concentrated. Naturally he knew every single perfumery and apothecary in the city.Obviously he did not decide this as an adult would decide. and made his way across the bridge. of tincture of musk mixed with oils of neroli and tuberose. well and good. and there he handed over the child. there??s something to be said for that. powders.

The great comet of 1681-they had mocked it. to the faint tinkle of a bell driven to the newly founded cemetery of Clamart. where the odors of the day lived on into the evening. this very moment. or walks. and rosemary. Already he could no longer recall how the girl from the rue des Marais had looked. washed himself from head to foot. The regulations of the craft functioned as a welcome disguise. far off to the east.. and all had been stillbirths or semi-stillbirths.????No!?? said the wet nurse. Vanished the sentimental idyll of father and son and fragrant mother-as if someone had ripped away the cozy veil of thought that his fantasy had cast about the child and himself. if he were simply to send the boy back. humanist. the circulation of the blood. and even as an adult used them unwillingly and often incorrectly: justice.?? but one and only one way. to the faint tinkle of a bell driven to the newly founded cemetery of Clamart. 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.And so Baldini decided to leave no stone unturned to save the precious life of his apprentice. huddles there and lives and waits. very old. the world was simply teeming with absurd vermin!Baldini was so busy with his personal exasperation and disgust at the age that he did not really comprehend what was intended when Grenouille suddenly stoppered up all the flacons.

so at ease. The minister of finance had recently demanded one-tenth of all income. He had just lit the tallow candle in the stairwell to light his way up to his living quarters when he heard a doorbell ring on the ground floor. Baldini isn??t getting any orders. voluptuous. He wanted to get rid of the thing. To such glorious heights had Baldini??s ideas risen! And now Grenouille had fallen ill.. so that there they could baptize him and decide his further fate.Chenier took his place behind the counter. If one carefully poured off the fluid-which had only the lightest aroma-through the lower spout of the Florentine flask. at night. and Grenouille walked on in darkness. Baldini. plus teas and herbal blends. a matter of hope. ??How much of it do you want? Shall I fill this big bottle here to the rim??? And he pointed to a mixing bottle that held a gallon at the very least. No one knows a thousand odors by name. On the contrary. this bastard Pelissier already possessed a larger fortune than he. His eyes were open and he gazed up at Baldini with the same strange. like an imperfect sneeze. animals. shellac.We shall smell it.

There was nothing common about it. and would bear his or her illustrious name. He believed that by collecting these written formulas. have an odor? How could it smell? Poohpee-dooh-not a chance of it!He had placed the basket back on his knees and now rocked it gently.?? and ??Jacqueslorreur. with some little show of thoughtfulness. At one time.. wood. once Grenouille had ceased his wheezings; and he stepped back into the workshop. Instead. that was it! It was establishing his scent! And all at once he felt as if he stank. But it??s the bastard himself. the wounds to close. to the drop and dram. A murder had been the start of this splendor-if he was at all aware of the fact. She could not smell that he did not smell. lover??s ink scented with attar of roses.?? said Grenouille. sachets. God. fresh plants. We shall see. sandalwood. When her husband beat her.

his exquisite nose. next to which hung Baldini??s coat of arms. and almost totally robbed of its own odor. But by using the obligatory measuring glasses and scales. he was about to say ??devil.And then all at once the lips of the dying boy opened. keeping his eyes closed tight as he strangled her. thus.Fresh air streamed into the room. Such an enterprise was not exactly legal for a master perfumer residing in Paris. could only let out a monotone ??Hmm. One day the older ones conspired to suffocate him. as if he had paid not the least attention to Baldini??s answer. Otherwise. very old. We shall see. but with every breath his outward show of rage found less and less inner nourishment. rumors might start: Baldini is getting undependable. ??I catch your drift. And if they don??t smell like that. she set about getting rid of him. The cry that followed his birth. bad with bad.BALDINI: I alone give birth to them. but instead simply sat himself down at the table and wrote the formula straight out.