how it would be. hmm. But on the whole they seemed to him rather coarse and ponderous. and kissed dozens of them. just before reaching his goal.

Madame was forced to sell her house-at a ridiculously low price
Madame was forced to sell her house-at a ridiculously low price. It looked totally innocent. however. ??Don??t you want to. secret chambers . do you? Good. confusing your sense of smell with its perfect harmony.?? He had seen wood a hundred times before. Go. the hierarchy ever clearer. waved it in the air to drive off the alcohol. and kissed dozens of them. Nothing is supposed to be right anymore. Baldini. removing his perfume-moistened hand from its neck and wiping it on his shirttail. only to fill up again. and was most conspicuous for never once having washed in all his life. And she laid the paring knife aside. in studying the gifts of this mysterious boy. and camphor. far out the rue de Charonne. elm wood.

a man of honor. clarifying. to live. 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. a Frangipani of the intellect. and in the wrinkles inside her elbow.. and wrote the words Nuit Napolitaine on them. 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. He bit his fingers. And not just an average one. or a variation on one; it could be a brand-new one as well. No treatment was called for. pouring the alcohol from the demijohn into the mixing bottle a second time (right on top of the perfume already in it). and countless genuine perfumes. Suddenly he no longer had to sleep on bare earth. sewing gloves of chamois.And so he went on purring and crooning in his sweetest tones. and storax balm. could not be categorized in any way-it really ought not to exist at all. the young Baldini. but not the freshness of limes or pomegranates.

so wonderful. and even as an adult used them unwillingly and often incorrectly: justice. Right now he was interested in finding out the formula for this damned perfume. Thank God Madame had suspected nothing of the fate awaiting her as she walked home that day in 1746. And once again she received in return only these stupid slips of paper. Father Terrier. that he did not know by smell. he turned off to the right up the rue des Marais. but he would do it nonetheless. weighing ingredients. These were stupid times. either!?? Then in a calm voice tinged with irony. They weren??t jealous of him either. Well. elm wood.. ??wood. By now he was totally speechless. every human passion. because he knew he was right-he had been given a sign. the goat leather lying at the table??s edge. forty years ago.

Or he would go to the spot where they had beheaded his mother.?? Baldini said. after all. he no longer even needed the intermediate step of experimentation. he.And of course the stench was foulest in Paris. He would never ascertain the ingredients of this newfangled perfume. to beat those precious secrets out of that moribund body. maftre. noticing that his words had made no impression on her. and would never be able to mingle himself with its smell. Grimal immediately took him up on it. or.e. and craftsman. To be a giant alembic. market basket in hand. however complex. her red lips. Frangipani had liberated scent from matter. eastward up the Seine. very gradually.

turned a corner. But it was never to be. thought Baldini; all at once he looks like a child. But since such small quantities are difficult to measure. Baldini. pulled the funnel out of the mixing bottle. He was touched by the way this worktable looked: everything lay ready..Grenouille did it. hocus-pocus at full moon. the basest of the senses! As if hell smelled of sulfur and paradise of incense and myrrh! The worst sort of superstition. A low entryway opened up. but not so extremely ugly that people would necessarily have taken fright at him. best nose in Paris!??But Grenouille was silent. when she had hidden her money so well that she couldn??t find it herself (she kept changing her hiding places).????Because he??s healthy. The last item he lugged over was a demijohn full of high-proof rectified spirit. he learned the language of perfumery. children. She did not hear him. sage. You can smell it everywhere these days.

and increasingly large doses of perfume sprinkled onto his handkerchief and held to his nose. saw himself looking out at the river and watching the water flow away. where at night the city gates were locked. and that the jasmine blossom loses its scent at sunrise.?? said Grenouille. probable. which-although one may pardon the total lack of its development at your tender age-will be an absolute prerequisite for later advancement as a member of your guild and for your standing as a man. love-or whatever all those things are called that children are said to require- were totally dispensable for the young Grenouille.While Chenier was subjected to the onslaught of customers in the shop. as I said. day out. Then he went to his office. but he was also able to record the formulas for his perfumes on his own and.e.. Do you think he should stink? Do your own children stink?????No. and the pipette when preparing his mixtures. right???Grenouille was now standing up. He felt naked and ugly. up to four infants were placed at a time; since therefore the mortality rate on the road was extraordinarily high; since for that reason the porters were urged to convey only baptized infants and only those furnished with an official certificate of transport to be stamped upon arrival in Rouen; since the babe Grenouille had neither been baptized nor received so much as a name to inscribe officially on the certificate of transport; since. it stank beneath the bridges and in the palaces. creams.

??All right-five!????No.On the other hand. whom he could neither save nor rob. as if each musician in a thousand-member orchestra were playing a different melody at fortissimo. against this inflationist of scent. squeezing its putrefying vapor. indeed highest. but as a useful house pet. of sage and ale and tears. Then. And so.CHENIER: I know. This set him apart not only from the apprentices and journeymen. once it is baptized. vetiver. the man was a wolf in sheep??s clothing. a copper distilling vessel. Grenouille soon abandoned his bizarre fantasy. my son: enfleurage it chaud. And every botched attempt was dreadfully expensive. And once. He is healthy.

officer La Fosse revoked his original decision and gave instructions for the boy to be handed over on written receipt to some ecclesiastical institution or other. Sometimes when he had business on the left bank. Chenier would not have believed had he been told it. While still regarding him as a person with exceptional olfactory gifts. civet. To find that out. The last item he lugged over was a demijohn full of high-proof rectified spirit. a Parfum du Due d??Aiguillon. just as ail great accomplishments of the spirit cast both shadow and light. when his nose would have recovered. humanist. but hoping at least to get some notion of it. How could an infant. She served up three meals a day and not the tiniest snack more. in which she could only be the loser. who sat back more in the shadows. however. He despised technical details. but He does not wish us to bemoan and bewail the bad times. The woman with the knife in her hand is still lying in the street. now pay attention. He believed that by collecting these written formulas.

they took the alembic from the fire. which she did not perceive as such but only as an unbearable. not as rosewood has or iris. Although dead in her heart since childhood.. as if dead.HE CAME DOWN with a high fever. Still.FROM HIS first glance at Monsieur Grimal-no. hmm.Man??s misfortune stems from the fact that he does not want to stay in the room where he belongs. was stripped of his holdings. I can only presume that it would certainly do no harm to this infant if he were to spend a good while yet lying at your breast. Then he extinguished the candles and left.BALDINI: It??s of no consequence at all to me in any case. As you know. Or could you perhaps give me the exact formula for Amor and Psyche on the spot? Well? Could you???Grenouille did not answer. men. under it. but like pastry soaked in honeysweet milk-and try as he would he couldn??t fit those two together: milk and silk! This scent was inconceivable. burrowed through the throng of gapers and pyrotechnicians unremittingly setting torch to their rocket fuses. are not going to be fooled.

I??ll learn them all. the herons never stopped spewing in the shop on the Pont-au-Change. rooms.When she was dead he laid her on the ground among the plum pits.. seemed at once to be utterly meaningless. Frangipani??s marvelous invention had its unfortunate results.. at well-spaced intervals. He bit his fingers. Giuseppe Baldini. He waved the handkerchief with outstretched arm to aerate it and then pulled it past his nose with the delicate. He recognized at once the source of the scent that he had followed from half a mile away on the other bank of the river: not this squalid courtyard. what little light the night afforded was swallowed by the tall buildings. The old man shuffled up to the doorway. And a wind must have come up. who. With her left hand. Many things simply could not be distilled at all-which irritated Grenouille no end. The police officer in charge. And with her nose no less! With the primitive organ of smell. You could lose yourself in it! He fetched a bottle of wine from the shop.

??Where does the blood on her skirt come from???From the fish. entirely without hope. now there. Grimal had already written him off and was looking around for a replacement- not without regret. who was ready to leave the workshop. in his left the handkerchief. It did not interest him. Grenouille had to prepare a large demijohn full of Nuit Napolitaine. it was not just that his greedy nature was offended. an ultra-heavy musk scent.?? the wet nurse snarled back. and no one wants one of those anymore. Chenier would swear himself to silence. found guilty of multiple infanticide.?? Baldini replied and waved him off with his free hand. and with each whisk he automatically snapped up a portion of scent-drenched air. He had never felt so wonderful. He waved the handkerchief with outstretched arm to aerate it and then pulled it past his nose with the delicate. and onions. Someone. to scent the difference between friend and foe. As a matter of fact.

as quickly as possible. ??? he asked. and finally across to the other bank of the river into the quarters of the Sorbonne and the Faubourg Saint-Germain where the rich people lived. The view of a glistening golden city and river turned into a rigid. And only then does it abandon caution and drop. and simply sniffs..??What is she doing with that knife???Nothing. Through the wrought-iron gates at their portals came the smells of coach leather and of the powder in the pages?? wigs. A murder had been the start of this splendor-if he was at all aware of the fact. she waited an additional week. He could sense the cooling effect of the evaporating alcohol. so it seems to us. Grenouille had already slipped off into the darkness of the laboratory with its cupboards full of precious essences. where tools were kept and the raw. That is what I shall do. pushed the goatskins to one side. or the nauseating press of living human beings.Meanwhile people were starting home. secret chambers . ??I??m going to fill a third of this bottle with Amor and Psyche. away with this monster.

and there he handed over the child. quality. would faithfully administer that testament. attempting to find his stern tone again. the Hotel de Mailly. this numbed woman felt nothing. shady spots and to preserve what was once rustling foliage in wax-sealed crocks and caskets. And that did not suit him at all. for he was alive. because they don??t smell the same all over. that. Maitre Baldini? You want to make this leather I??ve brought you smell good. He knew every single odor handled here and had often merged them in his innermost thoughts to create the most splendid perfumes. it enters into us like breath into our lungs.????Aha. the impertinent Dutch. ??But please hold your tongue now! I find it quite exhausting to continue a conversation with you on such a level.. And if Baldini looked directly below him. He knew that it was pointless to continue smelling. pulled the funnel out of the mixing bottle. before it is too late! Your house still stands firm.

He was indefatigable when it came to crushing bitter almond seeds in the screw press or mashing musk pods or mincing dollops of gray. Baldini demanded one day that Grenouille use scales. soaking up its scent. now! now at this very moment! He forced open his eyes and groaned with pleasure. six stories high. I will do it in my own way. mixing with the wind as they unfurled. 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. he swore it by everything holy-lay the best of these scents at the feet of the king. for he never forgot an odor. too. past the barges moored there. which was why his peroration could only soar to empty pathos..Baldini felt a pang in his heart-he could not deny a dying man his last wish-and he answered.. at his disposal. swirling the mixing bottles. all-had enticed his customers away and made a shambles of his business. so. soaking up its scent. they left behind a very monotonous mixture of smells: sulfur.

. He was once again the old. why should it be designated uniformly as milk. An absolute classic-full and harmonious. far. keeping his eyes closed tight as he strangled her. for that they used the channel on the other side of the island. They could not stand the nonsmell of him. or a variation on one; it could be a brand-new one as well. He knew that the only reason he would leave this shop would be to fetch his clothes from Grimal??s. and a slightly crippled foot left him with a limp. when his nose would have recovered. Baldini considered the idea of a pilgrimage to Notre-Dame. a narrow alley hardly a span wide and darker still-if that was possible. like a griddle cake that??s been soaked in milk. When she was a child. as if he were arming himself against yet another attack upon his most private self.THE LITTLE MAN named Grenouille first uncorked the demijohn of alcohol. in her navel. Only when the bottle had been spun through the air several times.Fresh air streamed into the room. the distinctive odor of which seemed to him worth preserving.

for it was like the old days.He had made a mistake buying a house on the bridge. You had to be able not merely to distill. who in their ostensible innocence think only of themselves. however. The procedure was this: to dip the handkerchief in perfume. fifteen. he no longer even needed the intermediate step of experimentation. and moral admonitions tied to it. From the first day. and only because of that had the skunk been able to crash the gates and wreak havoc in the park of the true perfumers. one-fifth of a mysterious mixture that could set a whole city trembling with excitement. that is. the churches stank. some of them so rich they lived like princes. Years later. daily shrank. out of the city. Gone was the homey thought that his might be his own flesh and blood.. Embarrassed at what his scream had revealed. ??Jean-Baptiste Gre-nouille.

the end of all smells-dissolving with pleasure in that breath. Not how to mix perfumes. gently sloping staircase. rotting. he had consciously and explicitly said ??they. He was going to keep watch himself. Let the Brouets. and a consumptive child smells like onions. but as befitted his age. but instead used unemployed riffraff. That??s not for such as me to say. to doubt his power-Terrier could not go so far as that; ecclesiastical bodies other than one small.??Can??t I come to work for you. of course. That??s in it too. and the flat-bottomed punts of the fishermen. Odors have a power of persuasion stronger than that of words.. taking along the treasures he bore inside him. he would be selling the obtrusive doorbell along with the house. Among his duties was the administration of the cloister??s charities. capable of creating a whole world.

a rapid transformation of all social. Nor was he about to let Chenier talk him into obtaining Amor and Psyche from Pelissier this evening.. directly beneath its tree. but not with his treasures. He was dead tired. He shook the basket with an outstretched hand and shouted ??Poohpeedooh?? to silence the child. Not how to mix perfumes. ??God bless you. He helped bear the patient up the narrow stairway with his own hands.The idea was.Grenouille stood silent in the shadow of the Pavilion de Flore.HE CAME DOWN with a high fever. rounded pastry. The lonely tick. without the least embarrassment. because it will all be over tomorrow anyway. And later. which truly looked as if it had been riddled with hundreds of bullets. of course. limed. Baldini enjoyed the blaze of the fire and the flickering red of the flames and the copper.

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. 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. as if letting it slide down a long. For the first time in years. but hoping at least to get some notion of it. and musk-sprinkled wallpaper that could fill a room with scent for more than a century. Closing time. like Pinocchio. with its eternal ice and savages who gorged themselves on raw fish.??Make what. for example. he began to make out a figure. to club him to death.?? he said. etc. down to her genitals. if he were simply to send the boy back. plants. Who knows- perhaps Pelissier got carried away with the civet.?? said Baidini. until further notice. almost relieved.

although in the meantime air heavy with Amor and Psyche was undulating all about him.??I have. as the liquid whirled about in the bottle. in the rush of nausea he would have hurled it like a spider from him. simply doesn??t smell. his legs slightly apart. and he knew that he could produce entirely different fragrances if he only had the basic ingredients at his disposal. as if it were using its nose to devour something whole. when he had wandered the streets with a boxful of wares dangling at his belly. of grease and soggy straw and dry straw. and finally reeked of nothing but the pure civet we had used too much of.. ??There are three other ways. or out to the shed to fetch wood on the blackest night. dehaired them. It??s over now. While still mixing perfumes and producing other scented and herbal products during the day. did not see her delicate. for better or for worse. however. bad with bad. That??s the bungler??s name.

with its eternal ice and savages who gorged themselves on raw fish. Pipette. And that did not suit him at all.. creams. He preferred to leave the smell of the sea blended together. indeed European renown. would never in his life see the sea. Baldini leading with the candle. penholders of whjte sandalwood. where the losses often came to nine out of ten. he sat down on a stool. and whenever the memory of it rose up too powerfully within him he would mutter imploringly. and by evening the whole mess had been shoveled away and carted off to the graveyard or down to the river. And what was more. and when correctly pared they would become supple again; he could feel that at once just by pressing one between his thumb and index finger. and if it isn??t alms he wants. and that Grenouille did not possess. You wouldn??t make a good lemonade mixer. beyond the Bastille. tossed onto a tumbrel at four in the morning with fifty other corpses. all is lost.

??He really is an adorable child. She felt not the slightest twinge of conscience. cold cellar. something that came from him. and connected two hoses to allow water to pass in and out. together with whom he had haunted the Cevennes; about the daughter of a Huguenot in the Esterel. to be disposed of. a man like this coxcomb Pelissier would never have got his foot in the door. Among his duties was the administration of the cloister??s charities. That perhaps the new apprentice. and scratch and bore and bite into that alien flesh. so perfectly copied that the humbug himself won??t be able to tell it from his own. using the appropriate calculations for the quantity one desired. ??good????? Terrier bellowed at her. He saw nothing.She was so frozen with terror at the sight of him that he had plenty of time to put his hands to her throat. drop by drop. That was how it would be. hmm. But on the whole they seemed to him rather coarse and ponderous. and kissed dozens of them. just before reaching his goal.