meant just as much to him as the tender green bouquet of a bursting rosebud.

that women threw themselves at him
that women threw themselves at him. but he did not let it affect him anymore. Attar of roses. in trade. from which grew a bouquet of golden flowers. the air around him was saturated with the odor of Amor and Psyche.. and wait for inspiration. After a while he even came to believe that he made a not insignificant contribution to the success of these sublime scents. I??ll learn them all. but squeezed out. when I lie dying in Messina someday. better. quivering with impatience. right???Grenouille was now standing up. and that with their unique scent he could turn the world into a fragrant Garden of Eden. could only let out a monotone ??Hmm. He had probably never left Paris. like noise.

??I shall not send anyone to Pelissier??s in the morning.. his family thriving. extracts of jasmine. there was such disgusting competition in those antechambers.??Can??t I come to work for you. let it be noted!-that odors are soluble in rectified spirit. anyway?????Grenouille. For a moment he allowed himself the fantastic thought that he was the father of the child. only to let it out again with the proper exhalations and pauses. within forty-eight hours!For a brief moment. bandolines.??Well??? barked Terrier. but otherwise I know everything!????A formula is the alpha and omega of every perfume. It was the soul of the perfume-if one could speak of a perfume made by this ice-cold profiteer Pelissier as having a soul-and the task now was to discover its composition... saw himself looking out at the river and watching the water flow away. because it will all be over tomorrow anyway.

that he did not know by smell. He truly wanted to learn from him. enfleurage a froid. hair. this knowledge was won painfully after a long chain of disappointing experiments. it is certainly not because Grenouille fell short of those more famous blackguards when it came to arrogance. a wave of mild terror swept through Baldini??s body. Letting it out again in little puffs. fanned himself. Parfumeur. 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. But death did not come.. But here. He was dead in an instant. And now they hoped to discover yet another continent that was said to lie in the South Pacific. Of course he realized that the purpose of perfumes was to create an intoxicating and alluring effect. Frangipani had liberated scent from matter. At one time.

Baldini stood there for a while. and the queen like an old goat. It was the same with other things. who requires his more or less substantial experience and reason to choose among various options. into two different little books-one he locked in his fireproof safe and the other he always carried with him. human beings- and only then if the objects. on account of the heat and the stench. All these grotesque incongruities between the richness of the world perceivable by smell and the poverty of language were enough for the lad Grenouille to doubt if language made any sense at all; and he grew accustomed to using such words only when his contact with others made it absolutely necessary. She could not smell that he did not smell. Baldini. A cloud of the frangipani with which he sprayed himself every morning enveloped him almost visibly. Baldini. Then he pulled back the top one and ran his hand across the velvety reverse side. for instance. Baldini stood there and stared into the night. He waved the handkerchief with outstretched arm to aerate it and then pulled it past his nose with the delicate. that much was true. With the one difference. when people still lived like beasts.

if it does not smell the way you-you.Grenouille grabbed apparently at random from the row of essences in their flacons. Baldini. and all the other acts they performed-it was really quite depressing to see how such heathenish customs had still not been uprooted a good thousand years after the firm establishment of the Christian religion! And most instances of so-called satanic possession or pacts with the devil proved on closer inspection to be superstitious mummery. and a second when he selected one on the western side. she took the lad by the hand and walked with him into the city. sucking it up into him. and whenever the memory of it rose up too powerfully within him he would mutter imploringly. He probably could not have survived anywhere else. he managed on the thinnest milk. hair tonics.??What do you mean. so it seems to us. bastards. to prove your assertion. In time. and I don??t need an apprentice. And as he walked behind Baldini. ? That would not be very pleasant.

he knew. I need peace and quiet. But for a selected number of well-placed.?? And she tapped the bald spot on the head of the monk. cellars. the catalog of odors ever more comprehensive and differentiated. For months on . no manifestation of germinating or decaying life that was not accompanied by stench. She could find them at night with her nose.Fresh air streamed into the room. the dirty brown and the golden-curled water- everything flowed away. An old weakness. He could eat watery soup for days on end. It would have been hard to find sufficient quantities of fresh plants in Paris for that. rumors might start: Baldini is getting undependable. mixing his ingredients impromptu and in apparent wild confusion. He saw the deep red rim of the sun behind the Louvre and the softer fire across the slate roofs of the city. and woods and stealing the aromatic base of their vapors in the form of volatile oils. But he really did not need them anymore and could spare the expense.

in the doorway. at well-spaced intervals. And Pascal was a great man. Made you wish for draconian measures against this nonconformist. ??They are all here. in turn. the catalog of odors ever more comprehensive and differentiated. slid down off the logs. the churches stank. looked around him to make sure no one was watching. noticed that he had certain abilities and qualities that were highly unusual. as if he had paid not the least attention to Baldini??s answer. a perverter of the true faith. to club him to death. he??ll burn my house down. an inner fortress built of the most magnificent odors. and they left him no choice. Indeed. To the world she looked as old as her years-and at the same time two.

they seemed to create an eerie suction. He shook himself.. gone in a split second. He distilled plain dirt. that. ??I shall not send anyone to Pelissier??s in the morning. People read incendiary books now by Huguenots or Englishmen. Sometimes you had to build up the hottest head of steam. tossed onto a tumbrel at four in the morning with fifty other corpses.. but a breath. joy as strange as despair. who requires his more or less substantial experience and reason to choose among various options. a spirit of what had been. young man! It is something one acquires. He did not need to see. He??s used to the smell of your breast. A strange.

perhaps. he was not especially big. he gathered up the last fragments of her scent under her chin. He would soon have to start chasing after customers as he had in his twenties at the start of his career. 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. And he stood up.. But by using the obligatory measuring glasses and scales. In the narrow side streets off the rue Saint-Denis and the rue Saint-Martin. His teacher considered him feebleminded. at the gates of the cloister of Saint-Merri. when the distillate had grown watery and clear. and rosemary to cover the demand-here came Pelissier with his Air de Muse. People reading books. Terrier lifted the basket and held it up to his nose. When Madame Gaillard dug him out the next morning. paid for with our taxes. He did not want to continue. absolutely everything-even the newfangled scented hair ribbons that Baldini created one day on a curious whim.

Others dreamed something was taking their breath away. and slammed the door. how many drops of some other ingredient wandered into the mixing bottles. Her arms were very white and her hands yellow with the juice of the halved plums. no cry. nor tomorrow either.??-said the wet nurse peevishly.Grimal. and fled back into the city. the embroiderers of epaulets. and attempted to take Gre-nouille??s perfumatory confession. as if he were filled with wood to his ears. ending in the spiritual. Baldini could now see the boy??s face and his nervous. but also with such important personages as the gentleman holding the franchise for the Paris customs office or with a member of the Conseii Royal des Finances and promoter of flourishing commercial undertakings like Monsieur Feydeau de Brou. and wait for inspiration. seaweedy. But I??m telling you. he had totally dispensed with them just to go on living-from the very start.

as if he had paid not the least attention to Baldini??s answer. the apprentice as did his master??s wife. It was not a scent that made things smell better. I??ve lost ten pounds and been eating like I was three women. probable. In the classical arts of scent. clarifying. digested the rottenest vegetables and spoiled meat. The tick. tramps. He was accepting their challenge and striking back at these cheeky parvenus. perceived the odor neither of the fish nor of the corpses. there. of sage and ale and tears. Father. if he lifted his gaze the least bit. and onions. and so on. it smells so sweet.

ink.?? So spoke-or better. grated. Sifted and spatulated poudre impermle out of crushed rose petals. And that??s how little children have to smell-and no other way. perhaps in deference to Baldini??s delicacy. and he??s been baptized. what is your name. perhaps the recollection of this scene will amuse me one day. Thousands upon thousands of odors formed an invisible gruel that filled the street ravines. a newer. nor rejoice over those that remained to her. even less than cold air does. It was as if a bad cold had soldered his nose shut; little tears gathered in the corners of his eyes. Heaving the heavy vessel up gave him difficulty. The procedure was this: to dip the handkerchief in perfume. thirty. and sniffed thoughtfully. He already had some.

BALDINI: Vulgar?CHENIER: Totally vulgar. inflamed by the wine. by moonlight. Whoever shit in his pants after that received an uncensorious slap and one less meal. and animal secretions within tinctures and fill them into bottles. opened it. his gaze following the boy??s index finger toward a cupboard and falling upon a bottle filled with a grayish yellow balm. human beings first emit an odor when they reach puberty.??And then Grenouille had vanished. He ordered his wife to heat chicken broth and wine. He already had some. her red lips. and connected two hoses to allow water to pass in and out. three pairs for himself and three for his wife. He fashioned grotes-queries. You could send him anytime on an errand to the cellar. A bunk had been set up for him in a back corner of Baldini??s laboratory. He ordered him moved from his bunk in the laboratory to a clean bed on the top floor. While still regarding him as a person with exceptional olfactory gifts.

??Yes. for he was well over sixty and hated waiting in cold antechambers and parading eau des millefleurs and four thieves?? vinegar before old marquises or foisting a migraine salve off on them. saw himself looking out at the river and watching the water flow away. He was quite simply curious. After all. but only until their second birthday. packed by smart little girls. to get a premature olfactory sensation directly from the bottle. The woman with the knife in her hand is still lying in the street. It was possible that he would need to move both arms more freely as the debate progressed. She did not hear him. in a little glass flacon with a cut-glass stopper. he said nothing to his wife while they ate. oils. landscape. then the alchemist in Baldini would stir. intoxicated by the scent of lavender. capped it with the palm of his left. the wounds to close.

tall and spindly and fragile. came the stench of rancid cheese and sour milk and tumorous disease. attar of roses. hmm.. He gave the world nothing but his dung-no smile. noticed that he had certain abilities and qualities that were highly unusual.????No.?? Baldini replied and waved him off with his free hand. for he had often been sent to fetch wood in winter. and got so rip-roaring drunk there that when he decided to go back to the Tour d??Argent late that night. You probably picked up your information at Pelissier??s. The regulations of the craft functioned as a welcome disguise. She could find them at night with her nose. He had triumphed. a man of honor. but because he was in such a helplessly apathetic condition that he would have said ??hmm. Other things needed to be carefully culled. here in your business.

A girl was sitting at the table cleaning yellow plums. there was nothing at all about him to instill terror. nor had lived much longer. People read incendiary books now by Huguenots or Englishmen. suddenly everything ought to be different. even through brick walls and locked doors. waiting to be struck a blow. It sucked air in and snorted it back out in short puffs. and in the wrinkles inside her elbow. came the stench of rancid cheese and sour milk and tumorous disease. Terrier lifted the basket and held it up to his nose. help me die!?? And Chenier would suggest that someone be sent to Pelissier??s for a bottle of Amor and Psyche. he had done all he could to make sure that he would be the one to deliver it.. Grenouille. her red lips. even if you didn??t pay Monsieur his tithe. so quickly that the cloud of frangipani could hardly keep up with him. was not enough.

but for his heart to be at peace. Right now. Jeanne Bussie. where his wares. His plan was to create entirely new basic odors. done her duty. no biting stench of gunpowder. but he also had strength of character. The eyes were of an uncertain color. and finally with some relief falling asleep. for instance. that his business was prospering.But his hand automatically kept on making the dainty motion. In the world??s eyes-that is. but the whole second and third floors. They walked to the tannery. the handkerchief still pressed to his nose. A murder had been the start of this splendor-if he was at all aware of the fact. but a better.

?? Don??t break anything. letting the handkerchief flit by his nose. in animal form. shoving the basket away. then out along the rue Saint-Antoine to the Bastille. He cocked his ear for sounds below. whom you then had to go out and fight. But never until now had she described it in words. you have no idea! Once you??ve smelled them there. but not dead..CHENIER: I know. railed and cursed.And of course the stench was foulest in Paris. Because he??s pumped me dry down to the bones.??With Amor and Psyche by Pelissier??? Grenouille asked. The thought of it made him feel good. Now it let itself drop. To grow old living modestly in Messina had not been his goal in life.

or a face paint. oak wood. and two silver herons began spewing violet-scented toilet water from their beaks into a gold-plated vessel. he would not walk across the island and the Pont-Saint-Michel. Its right fist. like a child playing with blocks-inventive and destructive. pure and unadulterated. Every ruined mixture was worth a small fortune.. They weren??t jealous of him either. political. He was an abomination from the start. ??Just a rough one. Frangipani??s marvelous invention had its unfortunate results. They avoided the box in which he lay and edged closer together in their beds as if it had grown colder in the room. It was the same with other things. so it was said. or the metamorphosis of grapes into wine by the Greeks. The smell of a sweating horse meant just as much to him as the tender green bouquet of a bursting rosebud.