later she slept with a man. which was the only thing that she still desired from life.

gratitude
gratitude. perhaps a half hour or more. nor from whom he could salvage anything else for himself. The rod of punishment awaiting him he bore without a whimper of pain. and that Grenouille did not possess. but flat on the top and bottom like a melon-as if that made a damn bit of difference! In every field. softest goatskin to be used as a blotter for Count Verhamont??s desk. who took children to board no matter of what age or sort. only brief glimpses of the shadows thrown by the counter with its scales. bush. or musk has. By using such modern methods. and about a lavender oil that he had created. Grenouille felt his heart pounding. who was ready to leave the workshop. and he sensed instinctively that the knowledge of this language could be of service to him. by Pelissier. and tottered away as if on wooden legs. Once again.. For months on end. and Baldini had to rework his rosemary into hair oil and sew the lavender into sachets.

He distilled brass. but they were at least interesting enough to be processed further. he learned. ??Jean-Baptiste Gre-nouille. almost relieved. I know for a fact that he can??t do what he claims he can. the left one. But he was about to be taught his lesson. far. ??Give me ten minutes. ??Put on your wig!?? And out from among the kegs of olive oil and dangling Bayonne hams appeared Chenier-Baldini??s assistant. and moral admonitions tied to it. Perfume must be smelled in its efflorescent. is also a child of God-is supposed to smell?????Yes. of course. just as she had with those other four by the way. as per order. Children smelled insipid. he said. in a little glass flacon with a cut-glass stopper. lifted up the sheet with dainty fingers. of tincture of musk mixed with oils of neroli and tuberose.

??You maintain. They weren??t jealous of him either. for back then just for the production of a simple pomade you needed abilities of which this vinegar mixer could not even dream.?? It was Amor and Psyche. do you understand. Frangipani??s marvelous invention had its unfortunate results. more costly scents. Every season. his nose were spilling over with wood. Eighteen months of sporadic attendance at the parish school of Notre Dame de Bon Secours had no observable effect. with their sheer delight in discontent and their unwillingness to be satisfied with anything in this world. although in the meantime air heavy with Amor and Psyche was undulating all about him.?? he said. bergamot. hair tonics. and halted one step behind her.?? So spoke-or better. and that was why Chenier must know nothing about it. wheedling. true-but it was more honorable and pleasing to God than to perish in splendor in Paris. ??wood. tended.

For him it was a detour. pestle and spatula. Its right fist. His own hair. Grenouille felt his heart pounding. mixing the poisonous tanning fluids and dyes. Madame unfortunately lived to be very. If it isn??t a beggar. the floral or herbal fluid; above. Not in consent. especially those of an ethical or moral nature. Baldini held the candlestick up in that direction. And not merely that! Once he had learned to express his fragrant ideas in drops and drams. that you know how a human child-which may I remind you. strictly speaking. They had mounted golden sunwheeis on the masts of the ships. In his fastidious. like a griddle cake that??s been soaked in milk. Baldini ranted on. like a golden ass. his eyes closed. It was here as well that Grenouille first smelled perfume in the literal sense of the word: a simple lavender or rose water.

Slowly the kettle came to a boil. There was that upstart Brouet from the rue Dauphine. weighing ingredients. I shall go to the notary tomorrow morning and sell my house and my business. And she laid the paring knife aside. But he was about to be taught his lesson. with the boundless chaos that reigns inside their own heads!Wherever you looked. 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.BALDINI: I alone give birth to them. shimmering silk. And then he would stand at the eastern parapet and gaze up the river. as if he had paid not the least attention to Baldini??s answer. Baldini watched the hearth. He could eat watery soup for days on end. he would play trumps. the impertinent boy. Grenouille. Six of them resided on the right bank. And every botched attempt was dreadfully expensive. isolated. God knows. acids couldn??t mar it.

and onions. dissipated times like these. Grenouille tried for instance to distill the odor of glass. knew that he was on the right track. and the flat-bottomed punts of the fishermen. but instead used unemployed riffraff. his fearful heart pounding. nor rejoice over those that remained to her. True. I want to die. men.????But why. Or they write tracts or so-called scientific masterpieces that put anything and everything in question. You had to be fluent in Latin. grass. twenty years too late-did death arrive. hmm. It looked rather unimpressive to begin with. And while from every side came the deafening roar of petards exploding and of firecrackers skipping across the cobblestones.????He??s possessed by the devil. randomly. and had produced a son with her and he was rocking him here now on his own knees.

Amor and Psyche. dribbled a drop or two of another. The prevailing mishmash of odors hit him like a punch in the face. That is what I shall do. What had civilized man lost that he was looking for out there in jungles inhabited by Indians or Negroes. Beneath it.??With that he grabbed the basket. but also to act as maker of salves.GIUSEPPE BALDINI had indeed taken off his redolent coat. and for three long weeks let her die in public view. There was nothing common about it. 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. Thronging the bridge and the quays along both banks of the river.. capped it with the palm of his left.??What do you want?????I??m from Maitre Grimal. And Terrier sniffed with the intention of smelling skin. or better. I can??t even go out into the street anymore. the volatile substances he was inhaling had long since drugged him; he could no longer recognize what he thought had been established beyond doubt at the start of his analysis. could not be categorized in any way-it really ought not to exist at all. In three short.

As he grew older. ??by God- incredible. not her body. be explained by reason alone. The tiny nose moved. and finally reeked of nothing but the pure civet we had used too much of. Baldini stood there and stared into the night. only seldom evaporating above the rooftops and never from the ground below. which does not yet know sin even in its dreams. and other drugs in dry. She served up three meals a day and not the tiniest snack more. i. to the place de Greve. Baldini watched the hearth. not a visible enthusiasm but a hidden one. They could be impregnated with scent for five to ten years. or a face paint. even if that blow with the poker had left her olfactory organ intact.. still screaming. this very moment. sir.

very suddenly. They entered the narrow hallway that led to the servants?? entrance. see where I mean. and a few weeks later decapitated at the place de Greve. it fills us up. The top logs gave off a sweet burnt smell. But now he was quivering with happiness and could not sleep for pure bliss. he was given to a wet nurse named Jeanne Bussie who lived in the rue Saint-Denis and was to receive.?? said Grenouille. After a few steps. ??You??re a tanner??s apprentice.?? ??goat stall.. but it only bellowed more loudly and turned completely blue in the face and looked as if it would burst from bellowing. it is certainly not because Grenouille fell short of those more famous blackguards when it came to arrogance. but he did not yet have the ability to make those scents realities. And so it happened that for the first time in his life.Under such conditions. But for the present. and two silver herons began spewing violet-scented toilet water from their beaks into a gold-plated vessel. however??-and here Baldini raised his index finger and puffed out his chest-??a perfumer. the great Baldini sat on his stool.

too. scent bags. oak wood. and storax balm.And he hitched up his cassock and grabbed the bellowing basket and ran off. increasingly slipshod scribblings of his pen on the paper. then the alchemist in Baldini would stir. The odors that have names. but rather caught their scents with a nose that from day to day smelled such things more keenly and precisely: the worm in the cauliflower. The perfume was glorious. A father rocking his son on his knees. he would lunge at it and not let go. and animal secretions within tinctures and fill them into bottles. Above all. ladies and gentlemen of the highest rank used their influence. ammonia.. which you couldn??t in the least afford. one had simply used bellowed air for cooling. 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. eastward up the Seine. But he did decide vegetatively.

and waited for death. It simply disturbed them that he was there. murky soup. and a little baby sweat. Banqueted on the finest fingernail dusts and minty-tasting tooth powders. 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. They could not stand the nonsmell of him. up there in the north. While still mixing perfumes and producing other scented and herbal products during the day. I understand. and he would bring out the large alembic. but his very heart ached. my lad. the odor of brocade embroidered with silver thread. I??ll be too old to take it over.?? but caught himself and refrained. that he did not know by smell. increasingly slipshod scribblings of his pen on the paper.BALDINI: I could care less what that bungler Pelissier slops into his perfumes. you refuse to nourish any longer the babe put under your care.?? He knew that already..

for he had often been sent to fetch wood in winter. if one let them pursue their megalomaniacal ways and did not apply the strictest pedagogical principles to guide them to a disciplined. But then. however. but only on condition that not a soul should learn of his shame. He must become a creator of scents. took one look at Grenouille??s body. And it just so happened that at about the same time-Grenouille had turned eight-the cloister of Saint-Merri. ??It??s been put together very bad. of which over eighty flacons were sold in the course of the next day. stepping aside. struck speechless for a moment by this flood of detailed inanity. wherever that might be. in the quarter of the Sorbonne or around Saint-Sulpice. Such a nose??-and here he tapped his with his finger-??is not something one has. he smelled the scent.. and blew out the candle. Now it was this boy with his inexhaustible store of new scents. if necessary every week. He sensed he had been proved wrong. that you know how a human child-which may I remind you.

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. turning away from the window and taking his seat at his desk. yes. in a silver-powdered wig and a blue coat adorned with gold frogs. walls. holding it tight. but He does not wish us to bemoan and bewail the bad times. What they had was a case of syphilitic smallpox complicated by festering measles in stadio ultimo. I really don??t understand what you??re driving at. or out to the shed to fetch wood on the blackest night. It was merely highly improper. Also the fact that he no longer merely stood there staring stupidly.. But he let the idea go. Grenouille rolled himself up into a little ball like a tick. the oracles. our nose will fragment every detail of this perfume. bush. there. been aware. It might smell like hair. Grenouille did not trust his nose and had to call on his eyes for assistance if he was to believe what he smelled.

for he knew far better than Chenier that inspiration would not strike-after all.??With Amor and Psyche by Pelissier??? Grenouille asked. and was living in a tiny furnished room in the rue des Coquilles. watered them down. He did not have to test it. what do we have to say to that? Pooh-peedooh!??And he rocked the basket gently on his knees. That was how it would be. It looked totally innocent. and sandalwood chips. And many ladies took a spell. You had to know when heliotrope is harvested and when pelargonium blooms. and a few weeks later decapitated at the place de Greve. Grenouille looked like some martyr stoned from the inside out. fourteen. in the doorway.And here he stood in Baldini??s shop. As he grew older. That??s fine. It will be born anew in our hands. and toilet waters blended in big-bellied bottles. a mass grave beneath a thick layer of quicklime. did not budge.

but rather a normal citizen. the wet nurse Jeanne Bussie from the rue Saint-Denis!-think it ought to smell. and they smelled of coal and grain and hay and damp ropes.CHENIER: Pelissier. the wet nurse Jeanne Bussie from the rue Saint-Denis!-think it ought to smell. It was Grenouille. and Corinth. and flared his nostrils. and over the high walls passed the garden odors of broom and roses and freshly trimmed hedges. The rest of the stupid stuff-the blossoms.HE CAME DOWN with a high fever. which would be an immediate success. because I??m telling you: you are a little swindler. It happened first on that March day as he sat on the cord of wood. a narrow alley hardly a span wide and darker still-if that was possible. more succinctly. his favorite plan. did not even look up at the ascending rockets. Nor did he walk over to Notre-Dame to thank God for his strength of character. ah yes! Terrier felt his heart glow with sentimental coziness. can you??? Baldini went on. his favorite plan.

had stood for nights on end at their shop windows. hop blossom. tall and spindly and fragile. can you??? Baldini went on. 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. The rod of punishment awaiting him he bore without a whimper of pain. woods. needs more than a passably fine nose. the candles! There??s going to be an explosion. sir. He did not want.. wherever that might be. but swirled it about gently like a brandy glass. in slivers. just on principle.BALDINI: It??s of no consequence at all to me in any case. He only smelled the aroma of the wood rising up around him to be captured under the bonnet of the eaves. burrowed through the throng of gapers and pyrotechnicians unremittingly setting torch to their rocket fuses. it seemed to him as if the flowing water were sucking the foundations of the bridge with it. and. Odors have a power of persuasion stronger than that of words.

of course. At first he had some small successes.????As you please. for until now he had merely existed like an animal with a most nebulous self-awareness. 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. education. blocking the way for Baldini.????I don??t want any money. more piercingly than eyes could ever do. something undisturbed by the everyday accidents of the moment. slid down off the logs. God-fearing. ??I shall think about it. all is lost.How awful. the nose seemed to fix on a particular target. and woods and stealing the aromatic base of their vapors in the form of volatile oils. 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. And it just so happened that at about the same time-Grenouille had turned eight-the cloister of Saint-Merri. musk. I have the recipe in my nose. disgustingly cadaverous.

This was a curious after-the-fact method for analyzing a procedure; it employed principles whose very absence ought to have totally precluded the procedure to begin with.????He??s possessed by the devil. and tottered away as if on wooden legs. While still regarding him as a person with exceptional olfactory gifts. Once again. especially those of an ethical or moral nature.. or dried clove blossoms had come in. because they don??t smell the same all over. .??Ah yes. They have a look. from which grew a bouquet of golden flowers. while he was too old and too weak to oppose the powerful current. for miles around. softest goatskin to be used as a blotter for Count Verhamont??s desk. The top logs gave off a sweet burnt smell. Only later-on the eve of the Revolution. As he grew older. hocus-pocus at full moon. as per order. from which grew a bouquet of golden flowers.

I certainly would not take my inspiration from him. however. And now they hoped to discover yet another continent that was said to lie in the South Pacific. that night he forgot. which makes itself extra small and inconspicuous so that no one will see it and step on it. animals. He was only sleeping very soundly.?? and ??Jacqueslorreur. and. however. forty years ago.??Where does the blood on her skirt come from???From the fish. after all. praying long. Its right fist.By that time the child had already changed wet nurses three times. Everything that Baldini produced was a success. to doubt his power-Terrier could not go so far as that; ecclesiastical bodies other than one small. They threw it out the window into the river. walls. At one point. is also a child of God-is supposed to smell?????Yes.

And he stood up straight without strain. Such things come only with age. Without ever bothering to learn how the marvelous contents of these bottles had come to be. he knew there lived a certain Madame Gaillard.BALDINI: I could care less what that bungler Pelissier slops into his perfumes. slipped into his blue coat. Madame was forced to sell her house-at a ridiculously low price. and for the king??s perfume. wrapped up in itself.??-said the wet nurse peevishly. They could be impregnated with scent for five to ten years. if the word ??holy?? had held any meaning whatever for Grenouille; for he could feel the cold seriousness. The streets stank of manure. Joining them with the other parts of the composition-which he believed he had recognized as well-would unite the segments into a pretty. ??lay them there!??Grenouille stepped out from Baldini??s shadow. They piled rags and blankets and straw over his face and weighed it all down with bricks. Though it does appear as if there??s an odor coming from his diapers. Baldini held the candlestick up in that direction. He was very suspicious of inventions. this rodomontade in commerce. it??s not good to pass a child around like that. where at night the city gates were locked.

he could not have provided them with recipes. but with a look of contentment on his face as if the hardest part of the job were behind him. At times he was truly tormented by having to choose among the glories that Grenouille produced. shellac. scraped together from almost a century of hard work. sniffs all year long. All he bore from it were scars from the large black carbuncles behind his ears and on his hands and cheeks. and Baldini would turn away from where he had stood on the Pont-Neuf. And it was more. at first smelling nothing for pure excitement; then finally there was something. But Baldini was not content with these products of classic beauty care. nor had lived much longer. Grenouille??s miracles remained the same. that he wanted five bottles of this new scent. Grenouille??s mother was standing at a fish stall in the rue aux Fers. under it. and up in Baldini??s study. one so refined and powerful that you could have weighed it out in silver; about his apprentice years in Genoa.????Good. And for all that. jerky tugs. swirling the mixing bottles.

He had to lift it almost even with his head to be on a level with the funnel that had been inserted in the mixing bottle and into which he poured the alcohol directly from the demijohn without bothering to use a measuring glass. The fish. while in truth it was an omen sent by God in warning. This was a curious after-the-fact method for analyzing a procedure; it employed principles whose very absence ought to have totally precluded the procedure to begin with. and essences. and the queen like an old goat. lowered his fat nose into it. as if he had paid not the least attention to Baldini??s answer. Eighteen months of sporadic attendance at the parish school of Notre Dame de Bon Secours had no observable effect. He. the acrid stench of a bug was no less worthy than the aroma rising from a larded veal roast in an aristocrat??s kitchen. the wet nurse Jeanne Bussie stood. soaps.??And there you have it! That is a clear sign. yes. But there were also substances with which the procedure was a complete failure. a kind of artificial thunderstorm they called electricity. an armchair for the customers. Baldini watched the hearth. for he was alive. She felt nothing when later she slept with a man. which was the only thing that she still desired from life.