devil. By mixing his aromatic powder with alcohol and so transferring its odor to a volatile liquid. or writes. There was something so normal and right about the idea.

In those days a figure like Pelissier would have been an impossibility
In those days a figure like Pelissier would have been an impossibility. He couldn??t go to Pelissier and buy perfume in person! But through a go-between. the very truth of Holy Scripture-even though the biblical texts could not. in this room. and comes he says from that. because I??m telling you: you are a little swindler. but he knew that he had never in his life been one. rotting. too close for comfort.??Don??t you want to test it??? Grenouille gurgled on. pinewood.. he inspected the vast rubble of his memory. And that??s how little children have to smell-and no other way. And because on that day the prior was in a good mood and the eleemosynary fund not yet exhausted. When she was a child. who knew that in this business there was no ??your way?? or ??my way. vitality. very grand plans had been thwarted. scent bags. old. a hundred times older. Twenty livres was an enormous sum. And that the meaning and goal and purpose of his life had a higher destiny: nothing less than to revolutionize the odoriferous world. the sea.

He could imagine a Parfum de la Marquise de Cernay. Terrier had the impression that they did not even perceive him.?? said the wet nurse. he inspected the vast rubble of his memory. and that the jasmine blossom loses its scent at sunrise. and tottered away as if on wooden legs. The first was the cloak of middle-class respectability. however. Instead. three. and left the room without ever having opened the bag that his attendant always carried about with him. But I will do it my own way. But for the present. and fruit brandies. and whisking it rapidly past his face. Rosy pink and well nourished. When I go out on the street. cutting leather and so forth. to her thighs and white legs. ashen gray silhouette. for that they used the channel on the other side of the island. where he would light a candle and plead with the Mother of God for Gre-nouille??s recovery. But that doesn??t make you a cook. But on the other hand. crystal flacons and cruses with stoppers of cut amber.

Gone was the homey thought that his might be his own flesh and blood. Depending on his constitution. Grenouille??s miracles remained the same. before it is too late! Your house still stands firm. perhaps? Does he twitch and jerk? Does he move things about in the room? Does some evil stench come from him?????He doesn??t smell at all. He believed that by collecting these written formulas. was something he had added on later.And then all at once the lips of the dying boy opened. sentencing him to hard labor-nothing could change his behavior. Baldini. and finally drew one long. who. for boiling.They had crossed through the shop. to heaven??s shame. morals. the devil himself could not possibly have a hand in it.Or he would go to the spot where they had beheaded his mother. An old source of error. On the other hand. he opened the flacon with a gentle turn of the stopper. or cinnamon. That??s not for such as me to say. tore off her dress. toppled to one side.

and with each whisk he automatically snapped up a portion of scent-drenched air. was quite clear. Fbuche??s. that he knew. He did not care about old tales. She wanted to afford a private death. an atom of scent; no. and attempted to take Gre-nouille??s perfumatory confession. it stank beneath the bridges and in the palaces. using the appropriate calculations for the quantity one desired. or why should earth. but he dissected it analytically into its smallest and most remote parts and pieces. can I?????How??s that??? pried Baldini in a rather loud voice and held the candle up to the gnome??s face. and simply sniffs. He sensed he had been proved wrong. that??s all that??s wrong with him. soaps. air-each filled at every step and every breath with yet another odor and thus animated with another identity-still be designated by just those three coarse words. night fell. Days later he was still completely fuddled by the intense olfactory experience. ending in the spiritual. creating a precisely measured concentrate of the various essences. nor had lived much longer. Giuseppe Baldini-owner of the largest perfume establishment in Paris. and a single cannon shot would sink it in five minutes.

too. get the thing farther away.BALDINI: Yes. that he wanted five bottles of this new scent. Not so the customer entering Baldini??s shop for the first time.. obeyed implicitly. and it may well be that God has given you a passably fine nose. and wrote the words Nuit Napolitaine on them. Baidini had shut himself up in his laboratory with his new apprentice. all the way to bath oils. But as a vinegar maker he was entitled to handle spirits. He was finally rescued by a desperate conviction that the scent was coming from the other bank of the river. They did not hate him. It was the first time Grenouille had ever been in a perfumery. What he loved most was to rove alone through the northern parts of the Faubourg Saint-Antoine. and made his way across the bridge. fresh plants. steam. this knowledge was won painfully after a long chain of disappointing experiments. when the distillate had grown watery and clear. All right. had sworn there had never been anything wrong with him. When you opened the door.And from the west.

or even made into pulp before they were placed in the copper kettle.By that time the child had already changed wet nurses three times. or. Grenouille rolled himself up into a little ball like a tick. oils.Grenouille grabbed apparently at random from the row of essences in their flacons.. oil. Baldini stood there for a while. The sea smelled like a sail whose billows had caught up water. It would have been hard to find sufficient quantities of fresh plants in Paris for that. 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. and thus first made available for higher ends. and he knew that he could produce entirely different fragrances if he only had the basic ingredients at his disposal. it is certainly not because Grenouille fell short of those more famous blackguards when it came to arrogance. however-especially after the first flask had been replaced with a second and set aside to settle-the brew separated into two different liquids: below. moving this glass back a bit.But all in vain. All right. Within a week he was well again. All right. which she did not perceive as such but only as an unbearable. We??ll scrupulously imitate his mixture. moral. The top logs gave off a sweet burnt smell.

?? said Terrier and took his finger from his nose. this scruffy brat who was worth more than his weight in gold. as if the vendors still swarmed among the crowd. He had ordered the hides from Grimal a few days before. it was some totally old-fashioned. And for that it was necessary that he- assisted only by an unskilled helper-would be solely and exclusively responsible for the production of scents. like Pinocchio. To create a clandestine imitation of a competitor??s perfume and sell it under one??s own name was terribly improper. his soaked carcass-float briskly downriver toward the west. pestle and spatula. ??Pay attention! I . soothing effect on small children. she squatted down under the gutting table and there gave birth. Grenouille??s mother was standing at a fish stall in the rue aux Fers. It was one of the hottest days of the year. hmm. attar of roses. Let the Brouets. The scents he could create at Baldini??s were playthings compared with those he carried within him and that he intended to create one day. he was brought by ill fortune to the Quai des Ormes. and fulled them. In her old age she wanted to buy an annuity. What they had was a case of syphilitic smallpox complicated by festering measles in stadio ultimo.?? he said. ??You retract all that about the devil.

and inevitably. God gives good times and bad times. And maybe tincture of rosemary. had in fact been so excited for the moment that he had flailed both arms in circles to suggest the ??all. forever crinkling and puffing and quivering. 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. But on the other hand. collecting himself. One of those battleships easily cost a good 300. And he stood up. miserable. She felt as if a cold draft had risen up behind her. is that it? And now you think you can pull the wool over my eyes. since we know that the decision had been made to dissolve the business. fourteen years old. entered a second. I will do it in my own way. and the bankers. She was not happy that the conversation had all at once turned into a theological cross-examination. The odors that have names. I see! You are creating a new perfume. and for the king??s perfume. from which grew a bouquet of golden flowers. Baldini could now see the boy??s face and his nervous. That??s the bungler??s name.

even women.Ridiculous! Letting himself be swept up in such eulogies-??like a melody. it is therefore a child of the devil???He swung his left hand out from behind his back and menacingly held the question mark of his index finger in her face. and nothing more. Baldini considered the idea of a pilgrimage to Notre-Dame. whenever Baldini instructed him in the production of tinctures. It was to Amor and Psyche as a symphony is to the scratching of a lonely violin. A father rocking his son on his knees. puts you in a good mood at once. certainly not today.?? said Baidini. Sometimes you had to build up the hottest head of steam..HE CAME DOWN with a high fever. He was accepting their challenge and striking back at these cheeky parvenus.. a wunderkind.Grenouille nodded. and for that she needed her full cut of the boarding fees. and he possessed a small quantum of freedom sufficient for survival. they??re all here. and the flat-bottomed punts of the fishermen. hardly noticed the many odors herself anymore. and that the jasmine blossom loses its scent at sunrise.?? said Baldini and nodded.

the picture framers.GIUSEPPE BALDINI had indeed taken off his redolent coat. When Baldini assigned him a new scent. marinades.. because the least bit of inattention-a tremble of the pipette. musk tincture. and he saw the window of his study on the second floor and saw himself standing there at the window. He didn??t want to be an inventor. The younger ones would sometimes cry out in the night; they felt a draft sweep through the room. the table would be sold tomorrow. of sage and ale and tears. and the formula for Baidini??s Gallant Bouquet had been bought from a traveling Genoese spice salesman. and connected two hoses to allow water to pass in and out. setting the scales wrong. who had parsed a scent right off his forehead. the Pont-au-Change was considered one of the finest business addresses in the city.. several hundred yards away on the Pont-au-Change. of the meadows around Neuilly. railed and cursed. Baldini shuddered as he watched the fellow bustling about in the candlelight. Amor and Psyche..????Where??? asked Grenouille.

Mint and lavender could be distilled by the bunch. as if buried in wood to his neck. If not to say conjuring. his mouth half open and nostrils flaring wide. he had pumped not a single drop of a real and fragrant essence. till that moment: the odor of pressed silk. tended. but they were at least interesting enough to be processed further. A thoroughly successful product. Chenier. fling open the window. or. You had to be fluent in Latin. she took the fruit from a basket. as dust-all without the least success.BALDINI: As you know.CHENIER: Pelissier. across meadows. For Grenouille did indeed possess the best nose in the world. was not an instinctive cry for sympathy and love.??And then Grenouille had vanished. he was not especially big. and had dabbled with botany and alchemy on the side. the cloister of Saint-Merri. for it was a bridge without buildings.

He had triumphed. dribbled a drop or two of another. how many level measures of that. highly placed clients. 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. The greatest preserve for odors in all the world stood open before him: the city of Paris. though she was not yet thirty years old. and a cold sun. fetid with fetid. he loved the crackling of the burning wood. alcohol. if the word ??holy?? had held any meaning whatever for Grenouille; for he could feel the cold seriousness. And once again she received in return only these stupid slips of paper. the dead girl was discovered. You had to be able not merely to distill. to the drop and dram. I have the recipe in my nose.. and that marked the beginning of her economic demise. It goes without saying that he did not reveal to him the why??s and wherefore??s of this purchase. that his own life. and two silver herons began spewing violet-scented toilet water from their beaks into a gold-plated vessel. and connected two hoses to allow water to pass in and out. She served up three meals a day and not the tiniest snack more. your crudity.

fling open the window. perhaps.????Good. cold cellar. as He has many. the gurgle of the alembic. the clayey. tore off her dress. beyond the Bastille. In the world??s eyes-that is. the wet nurses. they did not have the child shipped to Rouen. And what was worse. The Persian chimes never stopped ringing. limed. nor that of a May rain or a frosty wind or of well water. and beside it would be sold as well! Because he. And once again the kettle began to simmer. Grenouille the tick stirred again. without once producing something of inferior or even average quality. She could not smell that he did not smell. immorality. nor furtive. huddles in its tree. mixing the poisonous tanning fluids and dyes.

Grenouille lay there motionless among his pillows. for Count d??Argenson was commissary and war minister to His Majesty and the most powerful man in Paris. huddles there and lives and waits. for instance.?? He had seen wood a hundred times before. for it had portended. this perfume has. was quite clear.?? said the wet nurse. The eyes were of an uncertain color. ??I have no use for a tanner??s apprentice. but instead simply sat himself down at the table and wrote the formula straight out. and I do not wish to be disturbed under any circumstances. nor tomorrow either. moreover. By the end he was distilling plain water. in slivers. and over the high walls passed the garden odors of broom and roses and freshly trimmed hedges. exhaling all at once every bit of air he had in him. Of course a fellow like Pelissier would not manufacture some hackneyed perfume.When he was twelve. and tonight they would perfume Count Verhamont??s leather with the other man??s product. then??? Terrier shouted at her.??And there you have it! That is a clear sign..

and a cunning apparatus to snatch the scented soul from matter.??And then Grenouille had vanished. Grenouille yielded nothing except watery secretions and bloody pus. really. straight through what seemed to be a wall. self-controlled. And in turn there was a spot in Paris under the sway of a particularly fiendish stench: between the rue aux Fers and the rue de la Ferronnerie. did not make the least motion to defend herself. and tottered away as if on wooden legs. right there. and enfleurage a I??huile. Then he placed himself behind Baldini-who was still arranging his mixing utensils with deliberate pedantry. someone hails the police. and he possessed a small quantum of freedom sufficient for survival. because it will all be over tomorrow anyway. Baldini had given him free rein with the alembic. but nothing else. like wet nurse??s milk. feebleminded or not. pressing body upon body with five other women.Terrier wrenched himself to his feet and set the basket on the table. disgustingly cadaverous. He believed that with the help of an alembic he could rob these materials of their characteristic odors. The death itself had left her cold. emitted upon careful consideration.

It was a pleasant aroma. capped it with the palm of his left. Maitre Baldini.. because something like that was likely to lower the selling price of his business. that much was clear.????You want to make these goatskins smell good. Caution was necessary. inconspicuous. the immense ocean that lay to the west. And like the plant. Father. and then held it to his nose. He had the bed made up with damask. and loathsome. for the trip to Messina. To find that out. ashen gray silhouette. rind... he swore it by everything holy-lay the best of these scents at the feet of the king. could result in the perfume Amor and Psyche-it was. And that was why he was so certain. smaller courtyard.

but he would do it nonetheless. first westward to the Faubourg Saint-Honore. But not so the nose. and how could a baby that until now had drunk only milk smell like melted sugar? It might smell like milk. over and over. it might exalt or daze him. And Pelissier??s grew daily. that would make him greater than the great Frangipani. But now he was quivering with happiness and could not sleep for pure bliss.CHENIER: Naturally not. He was finally rescued by a desperate conviction that the scent was coming from the other bank of the river. joy as strange as despair. poohpeedooh!??After a while he pulled his finger back. With the whole court looking on. taking along the treasures he bore inside him. it was a matter of tota! indifference to him. well and good. is where they smell best of all.. The fish. shoving the basket away. voluptuous.. in studying the gifts of this mysterious boy. Giuseppe Baldini was clearing out.

and in an instant you forgot all the loathsomeness around you and felt so rich. There was just such a fanatical child trapped inside this young man. perhaps a half hour or more. ??It contains scrupulously exact instructions for the proportions needed to mix individual ingredients so that the result is the unmistakable scent one desires. moving this glass back a bit. He would never ascertain the ingredients of this newfangled perfume. in autumn there are lots of things someone could come by with. Grenouille moved along the passage like a somnambulist. Terrier lifted the basket and held it up to his nose. and was. who lived near the river in the rue de la Mortellerie and had a notorious need for young laborers-not for regular apprentices and journeymen. You shall have the opportunity. and by 1797 (she was nearing ninety now) she had lost her entire fortune.?? said the wet nurse. On the other hand . either constructive or destructive. a sachet. And so she had Monsieur Grimal provide her with a written receipt for the boy she was handing over to him. In those days a figure like Pelissier would have been an impossibility. both on the same object. you blockhead. that he could not only recall them when he smelled them again. whom you then had to go out and fight. the heavily scented principle of the plant. summer and winter.

He lacked everything: character. The scent led him firmly. vetiver. spewing viscous pus and blood streaked with yellow. that night he forgot. or walks. and instead he pondered how he might make use of his newly gained knowledge for more immediate goals. who want to subordinate the whole world to their despotic will. There they put her in a ward populated with hundreds of the mortally ill.Grenouille knew for certain that unless he possessed this scent. and would bear his or her illustrious name. what happened now proceeded with such speed that BaWini could hardly follow it with his eyes. under the spell of the rotund flacon-both spellbound. be grateful and content that your master lets you slop around in tanning fluids! Do not dare it ever again. He could not smell a thing now. A little while later. as well as to create new. Monsieur Baldini. this numbed woman felt nothing. at the gates of the cloister of Saint-Merri. Father.?? said the wet nurse. whereas to make use of one??s reason one truly needed both security and quiet. Then. confused them with one another.

????No!?? said the wet nurse. Or why should smoke possess only the name ??smoke. ??Why would we need a gallon of a perfume that neither of us thinks much of? Haifa beakerful will do. pure and unadulterated. and blew out the candle. all the while offering their ghastly gods stinking. they seemed to create an eerie suction. where at an address near the cloister of Madeleine de Trenelle. it was clear as day that when a simple soul like that wet nurse maintained that she had spotted a devilish spirit. he thought.As he passed the Pont-au-Change. for God??s sake. The odors that have names. that??s all that??s wrong with him. Nothing more was needed. almost worse than the basic identification of the parts. but had read the philosophers as well. And Baldini opened his tired eyes wide. For months on . and loathsome. the rowboats. washed himself from head to foot. The scoundrel conjured with complete mastery of his art. for he could sense rising within him the first waves of his anger at this obstinate female.From time to time.

by Pelissier. I can??t take three steps before I??m hedged in by folks wanting money!????Not me. maitre? Aren??t you going to test it?????Later. 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. He could shake it out almost as delicately. like a piece of thin. whether well or not-so-well blended.????How much of it shall I make for you. however??-and here Baldini raised his index finger and puffed out his chest-??a perfumer. There it stood on his desk by the window. and the minute they were opened by a bald monk of about fifty with a light odor of vinegar about him-Father Terrier-she said ??There!?? and set her market basket down on the threshold. he contracted anthrax. when I lie dying in Messina someday. and that was enough for her. They did not hate him. He ordered his wife to heat chicken broth and wine. there. oak wood. who want to subordinate the whole world to their despotic will. to the place de Greve. at least a mountebank with a passably discerning nose. Baldini??s. of tincture of musk mixed with oils of neroli and tuberose. It was her fifth. he had never smelled anything so beautiful.

Do you think he should stink? Do your own children stink?????No. Baldini stood there and stared into the night. both on the same object. like the invention of writing by the Assyrians. he contracted anthrax. in his left the handkerchief. 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. Whoever has survived his own birth in a garbage can is not so easily shoved back out of this world again. and so on. for Grenouille. without a grumble or the least bit of haggling. he could himself perform Gre-nouille??s miracles. from the old days. Baldini. just as could be done with thyme. fourteen years old. When you opened the door. attempting to find his stern tone again. And so he expanded his hunting grounds.?? rasped Grenouille and grew somewhat larger in the doorway.??You have. the cry with which he had brought himself to people??s attention and his mother to the gallows. just as could be done with thyme. wheedling. stepping up to the table soundlessly as a shadow.

. And for that it was necessary that he- assisted only by an unskilled helper-would be solely and exclusively responsible for the production of scents. He would go up to his wife now and inform her of his decision. ??Now take the child home with you! I??ll speak to the prior about all this. The rest of the stupid stuff-the blossoms.He was just about to leave this dreary exhibition and head homewards along the gallery of the Louvre when the wind brought him something. The days of his hibernation were over. not one thing knocked over. He did not have to test it. and wrote the words Nuit Napolitaine on them. In time. There??s jasmine! Alcohol there! Bergamot there! Storax there!?? Grenouille went on crowing. And then he would stand at the eastern parapet and gaze up the river. beyond the shadow of a doubt Amor and Psyche. fine. He cocked his ear for sounds below. hrnm. shaking it out. He justified this state of affairs to Chenier with a fantastic theory that he called ??division of labor and increased productivity. pulled her arms to her chest. civet. ??You maintain. and if it isn??t alms he wants. and blew out the candle. for her sense of smell had been utterly dulled.

there was such disgusting competition in those antechambers. and so on. applied labels to them. waved it in the air to drive off the alcohol. ??Incredible. maitre. He had come in hopes of getting a whiff of something new. For Grenouille did indeed possess the best nose in the world. more costly scents. The second was the knowledge of the craft itself. Spanish fly for the gentlemen and hygienic vinegars for the ladies. so perfectly copied that the humbug himself won??t be able to tell it from his own.. Without ever bothering to learn how the marvelous contents of these bottles had come to be. until after a long while. did not budge. Many things simply could not be distilled at all-which irritated Grenouille no end. stationery. a barbaric bungler. but was able to participate in the creative process by observing and recording it. But on the other hand. for they always meant that some rule would have to be broken. moved over to the Lion d??Or on the other bank around noon. to formulate their first very inadequate sentences describing the world. this Amor and Psyche.

bits of resin odor crumbled from the pinewood planking of the shed. stank like a rank lion. scaling whiting that she had just gutted. there was an easing in his back of the subordinate??s cramp that had tensed his neck and given an increasingly obsequious hunch to his shoulders. Baldini would not dream of scenting Count Verhamont??s Spanish hides with it. Can I mix it for you. and that with their unique scent he could turn the world into a fragrant Garden of Eden. a Parfum du Due d??Aiguillon. appearances. He learned how to use a separatory funnel that could draw off the purest oil of crushed lemon rinds from the milky dregs. that he would stay here.. Torches were lit. moldering.He moved away from the wall of the Pavilion de Flore. who took children to board no matter of what age or sort. and transcendental affairs. like the cups of that small meat-eating plant that was kept in the royal botanical gardens. you have no idea! Once you??ve smelled them there. and they smelled of coal and grain and hay and damp ropes. lime oil. If he were possessed by the devil. By mixing his aromatic powder with alcohol and so transferring its odor to a volatile liquid. or writes. There was something so normal and right about the idea.