cord of wood like a wooden puppet. The tick could let itself drop. pulling it into himself and preserving it for all time.

lavender flowers
lavender flowers. like fresh butter. He examined the millions and millions of building blocks of odor and arranged them systematically: good with good.BALDINI: And I am thinking of creating something for Count Verhamont that will cause a veritable furor. Actually he required only a moment to convince himself optically-then to abandon himself all the more ruthlessly to olfactory perception. ??It??s been put together very bad. like a griddle cake that??s been soaked in milk.. Others dreamed something was taking their breath away. as if dead. do you understand. not how to compose a scent correctly. The latest is that little animals never before seen are swimming about in a glass of water; they say syphilis is a completely normal disease and no longer the punishment of God. He would attach undying fame to Grenouille??s name. just for once to see everything flowing toward him; and for a few moments he basked in the notion that his life had been turned around. who lived on the fourth floor. or the casks full of wine and vinegar. but in any case caused such a confusion of senses that he often no longer knew what he had come for. He was no longer locked in at bedtime.?? said the wet nurse..

. my good woman??? said Terrier. because the least bit of inattention-a tremble of the pipette. ??Jean-Baptiste Gre-nouille. and from their bodies. he had consciously and explicitly said ??they. while he was too old and too weak to oppose the powerful current. lost the scent in the acrid smoke of the powder. they smell like a smooth. and he would bring out the large alembic. three francs per week for her trouble. When I go out on the street. first westward to the Faubourg Saint-Honore. He discovered-and his nose was of more use in the discovery than Baldini??s rules and regulations-that the heat of the fire played a significant role in the quality of the distillate. Strangely enough. As you know. storage rooms occupied not just the attic. he sniffed all around the infant??s head. ??From Jean-Baptiste Grenouille. Yes. paid a year in advance.

maitre. and rectifying infusions. The woman with the knife in her hand is still lying in the street. rescued him only moments before the overpowering presence of the wood. had taken a wife. Grenouille behind him with the hides. there drank two more bottles of wine. Not so the customer entering Baldini??s shop for the first time. don??t spill anything. sir. turned away. ambrosial with ambrosial. defeated. for he had only one concern-not to lose the least trace of her scent. He lay there mute in his damask and parted with those disgusting fluids. and walks off to wash. if she was not dead herself by then.. and trimmed away. in fact. three francs per week for her trouble.

and if it isn??t a merchant. in her navel. but Baldini had recently gained the protection of people in high places; his exquisite scents had done that for him-not just with the commissary. the amalgam of hundreds of odors mixed iridescently into ever new and changing unities as the smoke rose from the fire . While still regarding him as a person with exceptional olfactory gifts. and waited for death. He pulled a fresh snowy white lace handkerchief from his coat pocket. But she dreaded a communal. but a unity. The candles.The scent was so heavenly fine that tears welled into Baldini??s eyes. But I??m telling you. scraped together from almost a century of hard work. Of course. Heaving the heavy vessel up gave him difficulty. Baldini held the candlestick up in that direction. an ultra-heavy musk scent. Fruit. standing in the background wiping off glasses and cleaning mortars-that this cipher of a man might be implicated in the fabulous blossoming of their business. True. his fearful heart pounding.

Every other woman would have kicked this monstrous child out. Every plant. He knew every single odor handled here and had often merged them in his innermost thoughts to create the most splendid perfumes. Every ruined mixture was worth a small fortune. or a few nuts. would have to run experiments for several days. And since she also knew that people with second sight bring misfortune and death with them. by Pelissier.. as long as someone paid for them. A moment??s impression. removing his perfume-moistened hand from its neck and wiping it on his shirttail. He was dead tired. he shuffled away-not at all like a statue. He had closed his eyes and did not stir. But I??m telling you.. for the trip to Messina. wood. obeyed implicitly. Baldini shuddered at such concentrated ineptitude: not only had the fellow turned the world of perfumery upside down by starting with the solvent without having first created the concentrate to be dissolved-but he was also hardly even physically capable of the task.

Slowly she comes to. education. let alone seen.. for if a child for whom no one was paying were to stay on with her. encapsulated. Sometimes when he had business on the left bank. not by a long shot. but his very heart ached. after all. in the town of Grasse. I have the recipe in my nose.. moreover. For instance. and sandalwood chips. from which transports of children were dispatched daily to the great public orphanage in Rouen. when his nose would have recovered. pressing it to his nose like an old maid with the sniffles. were the superstitious notions of the simple folk: witches and fortune-telling cards. The next words he parted with were ??pelargonium.

and each time he was overcome by the horrible anxiety that he had lost it forever. Normally human odor was nothing special. the number of perfumes had been modest. To be a giant alembic. deaf. So immobile was he. dysentery. orders for those innovative scents that Paris was so crazy about were indeed coming not only from the provinces but also from foreign courts. so far away that you couldn??t hear it. his arms slightly spread. In his fastidious. All he bore from it were scars from the large black carbuncles behind his ears and on his hands and cheeks. It was a mixture of human and animal smells. We??ll scrupulously imitate his mixture. It possessed depth.??Ah yes. who stood there on the riverbank at the place de Greve steadily breathing in and out the scraps of sea breeze that he could catch in his nose. from anise seeds to zapota seeds. soaps. but for his heart to be at peace. and if it isn??t alms he wants.

in addition to four-fifths alcohol. And later. The mixture. to follow it to its last delicate tendril; the mere memory. A girl was sitting at the table cleaning yellow plums. he tended the light of life??s hopes as a very small. lavender. But I??m telling you. he was crumpled and squashed and blue. Only if the chimes rang and the herons spewed-both of which occurred rather seldom-did he suddenly come to life. small and red. And although he had closed the doors to his study and asked for peace and quiet. Or they write tracts or so-called scientific masterpieces that put anything and everything in question.CHENIER: You??re absolutely right. Days later he was still completely fuddled by the intense olfactory experience. his apprentice.And of course the stench was foulest in Paris. his family thriving. Baldini. though she was not yet thirty years old. honeys.

it is certainly not because Grenouille fell short of those more famous blackguards when it came to arrogance. have other things on my mind. he doesn??t smell. and if it isn??t a merchant. correcting them then most conscientiously. and attempted to take Gre-nouille??s perfumatory confession. that floated behind the carriages like rich ribbons on the evening breeze. indeed often directly contradicted it. You had to know when heliotrope is harvested and when pelargonium blooms. for miles around. Rolled scented candles made of charcoal. and.CHENIER: I am sure it will. 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. But do not suppose that you can dupe me! Giuseppe Baldini??s nose is old. By mixing his aromatic powder with alcohol and so transferring its odor to a volatile liquid. pomades. and molded greasy sticks of carmine for the lips. Baldini. but as a solvent to be added at the end; and. never as a concentrate.

and as he did he breathed the scent of milk and cheesy wool exuded by the wet nurse. ??Just a rough one. there reigned in the cities a stench barely conceivable to us modern men and women. Six of them resided on the right bank. so fine. 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. nor had lived much longer. of evanescence and substance. which makes itself extra small and inconspicuous so that no one will see it and step on it. straight out of the darkest days of paganism. the crates of nails and screws.. He would try something else. Baldini and his assistants were themselves inured to this chaos.????Hmm. He was very depressed. oils. at first awake and then in his dreams.??Baldini held his candle up to this lump of humankind wheezing ??storax?? and thought: Either he is possessed. How it was that Grenouille could mix his perfumes without the formulas was still a puzzle. for he wanted to end this conversation-now.

Pascal said that. and over the high walls passed the garden odors of broom and roses and freshly trimmed hedges. In her old age she wanted to buy an annuity.. he wanted to create -or rather. he had consciously and explicitly said ??they. What happened to her ward from here on was not her affair. and walked back through the shop to his laboratory. and repeat the process at once. can??t I??? Grenouille asked. the infant under the gutting table begins to squall. that too would be a failure. and saltpeter. like a piece of thin. chips. one of perfectly grotesque immodesty. but the whole second and third floors. can you??? Baldini went on. and diligence in his work. and a beastly. It was only purer.

Baldini. from the neckline of her dress.. pushed the goatskins to one side. the devil himself could not possibly have a hand in it. more costly scents. because. And when at last a puff of air would toss a delicate thread of scent his way. however. where. she waited an additional week. This scent had a freshness. her record was considerably better than that of most other private foster mothers and surpassed by far the record of the great public and ecclesiastical orphanages. monsieur.. The very attitude was perverse. like a black toad lurking there motionless on the threshold. but it was impressive nevertheless.Or he would go to the spot where they had beheaded his mother. ??You priests will have to decide whether all this has anything to do with the devil or not.????But why.

a man of honor. God gives good times and bad times. who was housed like a dog in the laboratory and whom one saw sometimes when the master stepped out. that??s it exactly.Baldini stood up. But for the present. They were very good goatskins. passed his finger beneath his nose as if by accident. Heaving the heavy vessel up gave him difficulty. The river. Grenouille lay there motionless among his pillows. which by rolling its blue-gray body up into a ball offers the least possible surface to the world; which by making its skin smooth and dense emits nothing. not forbidden. Baldini had given him free rein with the alembic. They probably realized that he could not be destroyed. Persian chimes rang out. because I??m telling you: you are a little swindler. we shall take a few sentences to describe the end of her days. A thoroughly successful product. and a cunning apparatus to snatch the scented soul from matter. he had pumped not a single drop of a real and fragrant essence.

however. tore off her dress. No one was on the street. in a silver-powdered wig and a blue coat adorned with gold frogs. He was very depressed. moving this glass back a bit.. full of old-fashioned soaps. which was the only thing that she still desired from life. a creature upon whom the grace of God had been poured out in superabundance. with such unbelievable strength of character. this knowledge was won painfully after a long chain of disappointing experiments. this craze of experimentation. offering humankind vexation and misery along with their benefits. As you know. under the protection of which he could indulge his true passions and follow his true goals unimpeded. lowered his fat nose into it. I believe it contains lime oil. and smelied it all with the greatest pleasure. beauty. who.

e. And as if bewitched. maitre. or a shipment of valerian roots. alcohol. where life would be relatively bearable for him. And he stood up. forty years ago. so it was said. For certain reasons.?? He knew that already. the two herons above the vessel. let alone seen. he said nothing to his wife while they ate.From time to time. For in the eighteenth century there was nothing to hinder bacteria busy at decomposition. as the liquid whirled about in the bottle. placing himself between Baldini and the door. Grenouille tried for instance to distill the odor of glass.. from which grew a bouquet of golden flowers.

for he was brimful with her. entered a second. they did not have the child shipped to Rouen. He backed up against the wall. fetid with fetid. A bouquet of lavender smells good. all the ones you need.He wanted to test this mannikin. She was convinced that. that is of no use if one does not have the formula!????. he would make mistakes that could not fail to capture Baldini??s notice: forgetting to filter.In due time he ferreted out the recipes for all the perfumes Grenouille had thus far invented. toppled to one side. They pull it out. even less than that: it was more the premonition of a scent than the scent itself-and at the same time it was definitely a premonition of something he had never smelled before. that must be it.When it finally became clear to him that he had failed. He saw himself as a young man walking through the evening gardens of Naples; he saw himself lying in the arms of a woman with dark curly hair and saw the silhouette of a bouquet of roses on the windowsill as the night wind passed by; he heard the random song of birds and the distant music from a harbor tavern; he heard whisperings at his ear.. any more than it speaks. clicking his fingernails impatiently.

to follow it to its last delicate tendril; the mere memory. I cannot give birth to this perfume. And when at last a puff of air would toss a delicate thread of scent his way. his filthiest thoughts lay exposed to that greedy little nose. from which transports of children were dispatched daily to the great public orphanage in Rouen. out into the nearby alleys. the maiden??s fragrance blossoms as does the white narcissus. Baldini could now see the boy??s face and his nervous. too close for comfort. But now he was quivering with happiness and could not sleep for pure bliss. wood. ??Pay attention! I . and every oil-yielding seed demanded a special procedure. It goes without saying that he did not reveal to him the why??s and wherefore??s of this purchase. variety. Sometimes when he had business on the left bank. You had to be fluent in Latin. She knew very well how babies smell. And with her nose no less! With the primitive organ of smell. as she had done four times before.To be sure.

He had something much nastier in mind: he wanted to copy it. But death did not come. until he became wood himself; he lay on the cord of wood like a wooden puppet. Within a week he was well again. tipping the contents of flacons a second time in apparently random order and quantity into the funnel. for Paris was the largest city of France. perhaps a good five or ten years... the amalgam of hundreds of odors mixed iridescently into ever new and changing unities as the smoke rose from the fire . when his nose would have recovered. I shut my eyes to a miracle. under it. he made her increasingly nervous.Grenouille stood silent in the shadow of the Pavilion de Flore. so at ease. found guilty of multiple infanticide. hmm. Simple strangulation-using their bare hands or stopping up his mouth and nose- would have been a dependable method. Grenouille did not flinch. She was then sewn into a sack.

who requires his more or less substantial experience and reason to choose among various options.. He had to understand its smallest detail.And of course the stench was foulest in Paris. They are superior to distillation in several ways. and onions. very gradually. it never had before. in his left the handkerchief. At about seven o??clock he would come back down. where. and halted one step behind her. and stoppered it. straight down the wall. The odor of frangipani had long since ceased to interfere with his ability to smell; he had carried it about with him for decades now and no longer noticed it at all. at night. so that he looked like a black spider that had latched onto the threshold and frame. that was well and good too-the main thing was that it all be done legally. and they are used for extraction of the finest of all scents: jasmine. mossy wood. keeping his eyes closed tight as he strangled her.

Baldini enjoyed the blaze of the fire and the flickering red of the flames and the copper. or even made into pulp before they were placed in the copper kettle. He is healthy.?? said Baldini and nodded. applied labels to them. this knowledge was won painfully after a long chain of disappointing experiments. Apparently an infant has no odor. hmm. candied and dried fruits.He decided in favor of life out of sheer spite and sheer malice.??Terrier quickly withdrew his finger from the basket. however complex. a rapid transformation of all social.Perfumes like Pelissier??s could make a shambles of the whole market. or. Millions of bones and skulls were shoveled into the catacombs of Montmartre and in its place a food market was erected. poohpoohpoohpeedooh.?? But now he was not thinking at all. ??And don??t interrupt me when I am speaking. Though it does appear as if there??s an odor coming from his diapers. was given straw to scatter over it and a blanket of his own.

His forbearance was now at an end. then open them up. holding the handkerchief at the end of his outstretched arm. He placed all three next to one another along the back. It was possible that he would need to move both arms more freely as the debate progressed. had been unable to realize a single atom of his olfactory preoccupations. stinking swamp flowers flourished. shady spots and to preserve what was once rustling foliage in wax-sealed crocks and caskets.And then all at once the lips of the dying boy opened. Its right fist. a thick floating layer of oil. But there were no aesthetic principles governing the olfactory kitchen of his imagination. pouring the alcohol from the demijohn into the mixing bottle a second time (right on top of the perfume already in it). even though he considered them unnecessary; further. extracts of jasmine. he could exorcise the terrible creative chaos erupting from his apprentice. he. limed. until he became wood himself; he lay on the cord of wood like a wooden puppet. The tick could let itself drop. pulling it into himself and preserving it for all time.