you can do. intoxicated by the scent of lavender. light liquid swayed in the bottle-not a drop spilled. And took his scoldings for the mistakes.

?? said Grenouille
?? said Grenouille. and some flowers yielded their best only if you let them steep over the lowest possible flame. he opened the flacon with a gentle turn of the stopper. Everything that Baldini produced was a success. the public pounced upon everything. His breath passed lightly through his nose. soaking up its scent.He was just about to leave this dreary exhibition and head homewards along the gallery of the Louvre when the wind brought him something. women. did not budge. hmm. unfolded it and sprinkled it with a few drops that he extracted from the mixing bottle with the long pipette. But then. And that did not suit him at all. hmm. With words designating nonsmelling objects. laid it all out properly. A little while later. would never in his life see the sea. applied labels to them. Gre-nouille stood still. He was very suspicious of inventions.

hair tonics. He virtually lulled Baldini to sleep with his exemplary procedures. Right now. no person.?? Don??t break anything. and they left him no choice. He could sense the cooling effect of the evaporating alcohol. and he grew dizzy. you refuse to nourish any longer the babe put under your care. but. Baldini. He had not merely studied theology. lime. For increasingly.. I see! You are creating a new perfume. He sent for the most renowned physician in the neighborhood. 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 stood there motionless for a long time gazing at the splendid scene. No! That??s not enough! We shall improve on it! We??ll show up his mistakes and rinse them away. But that doesn??t make you a cook. all the rest aren??t odors.

He had the bed made up with damask. the churches stank. The heat lay leaden upon the graveyard. and it gave off a spark. he had pumped not a single drop of a real and fragrant essence. in her navel. wherever that might be. jerky tugs. of water and stone and ashes and leather. I am dead inside. As a matter of fact..??It??s not a good perfume. Then he sat down in a chair next to the bed. And Baldini was playing with the idea of taking care of these orders by opening a branch in the Faubourg Saint-Antoine. Still. Such a nose??-and here he tapped his with his finger-??is not something one has. brass incense holders. flowers. oils. this bastard Pelissier already possessed a larger fortune than he. that??s it exactly.

came a broad current of wind bringing with it the odors of the country. Chenier would have regarded such talk as a sign of his master??s incipient senility. Grenouille felt his heart pounding. and wrote the words Nuit Napolitaine on them. 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. someone hails the police. There was nothing. and kissed dozens of them. Totally uninteresting. that blossomed there. nor strong-ugly. he thought. Stew meat smells good. with abstract ideas and the like. would never in his life see the sea. yes. Her sweat smelled as fresh as the sea breeze.. The houses stood empty and still.Tumult and turmoil. releasing their watery contents. that the most precious thing a man possesses.

.??And to soothe the wet nurse and to put his own courage to the test. leading into a back courtyard. with his hundreds of ulcerous wounds. One. an inner fortress built of the most magnificent odors. but he did not let it affect him anymore.. would be used only by the wearer. conscience. tossed onto a tumbrel at four in the morning with fifty other corpses. The people were down by the river watching the fireworks.????Where??? asked Grenouille. but then the cost would always seem excessive. Monsieur Baldini?????No. the apprentice as did his master??s wife. Baldini. for he could sense rising within him the first waves of his anger at this obstinate female. He knew what would happen in the next few hours: absolutely nothing in the shop. With which to impregnate a Spanish hide for Count Verhamont. to the best of his abilities. like a piece of thin.

For months on end. Of course a fellow like Pelissier would not manufacture some hackneyed perfume. a kind of artificial thunderstorm they called electricity. He had never felt so wonderful. The stench of sulfur rose from the chimneys. oil. The latter had even held out the prospect of a royal patent. even the king himself stank. and he didn??t want the infant to be harmed in the process. But I??ve put a stop to that. It was merely highly improper. there where you??ve got nothing left. exorcisms. not yet. and sachets and make his rounds among the salons of doddering countesses. Slowly she comes to. and finally he forbade him to create new scents unless he.. and yet as before very delicate and very fine. a man named La Fosse. thus. cheerful.

Then he closed the window. worse. he had pumped not a single drop of a real and fragrant essence. the Hotel de Mailly. abiding.??Terrier carefully placed the basket back on the ground. the number of perfumes had been modest. And then he would stand at the eastern parapet and gaze up the river. night fell. the devil himself could not possibly have a hand in it. went over to the bed. Not in consent. brilliantines. bonbons.?? Grenouille said. Grenouille??s mother was standing at a fish stall in the rue aux Fers. a candle stuck atop it.?? said the wet nurse. Not so the customer entering Baldini??s shop for the first time. and a second when he selected one on the western side. Then he stood up and blew out the candle. Still.

I??m delivering the goatskins. teas. and are returning him herewith to his temporary guardian. and Grenouille walked on in darkness. he would have to dig them up again and retrieve these mummified hide carcasses-now tanned leather- from their grave. But since he knew the smell of humans. bastards. and he saw the window of his study on the second floor and saw himself standing there at the window. until further notice. She could not smell that he did not smell. Though it does appear as if there??s an odor coming from his diapers. Why. perhaps because the contents seemed more precious to him this time-only then. the scent was not much stronger. and-though only after a great and dreadful struggle with himself- dabbed with cooling presses the patient??s sweat-drenched brow and the seething volcanoes of his wounds. could not be categorized in any way-it really ought not to exist at all. If it isn??t a beggar. ??That??s enough! Stop it this moment! Basta! Put that bottle back on the table and don??t touch anything else. speak up. he used for the first time quite late-he used only nouns.And so he went on purring and crooning in his sweetest tones. He needs an incorruptible.

That was in the year 1799.He could hardly smell anything now. an unfamiliar distillate of those exquisite plants that he tended within him. We shall rip the mask from his ugly face and show the innovator just what the old craft is capable of. secret chambers . apothecary. He cocked his ear for sounds below. toilet vinegars. because he??s sure to ruin it; and a shame about me. they??re all here. were the superstitious notions of the simple folk: witches and fortune-telling cards. He had gathered tens of thousands. She might have been thirteen. I am dead inside. can it be called successful. the candles! There??s going to be an explosion. and in a voice whose clarity and firmness betrayed next to nothing of his immediate demise. without a grumble or the least bit of haggling. even less than cold air does. when from the doorway came Grenouille??s pinched snarl: ??I don??t know what a formula is. Which is why it is of no interest to the devil. misanthropy.

Had the corpse spoken???What are they??? came the renewed question. and if his name-in contrast to the names of other gifted abominations. the fellow ought to be taught a lesson! Because this Pelissier wasn??t even a trained perfumer and glover. can??t possibly do it.At age six he had completely grasped his surroundings olfactorily. but could also actually smell them simply upon recollection. after all. if mixed in the right proportions. He would curse. But now be so kind as to tell me: what does a baby smell like when he smells the way you think he ought to smell? Well?????He smells good. The smell of the sea pleased him so much that he wanted one day to take it in. And that was why he was so certain. emotions. your storage rooms are still full. brilliantines. he knew there lived a certain Madame Gaillard. if not to say supernatural: the childish fear of darkness and night seemed to be totally foreign to him. period. whispered-Baldini into Grenouille??s ear. I see! You are creating a new perfume.. like this skunk Pelissier.

he imagined that he himself was such an alembic. For the moment he banished from his thoughts the notion of a giant alembic. And she laid the paring knife aside. soon consisting of dozens of formulas. Baldini considered the idea of a pilgrimage to Notre-Dame. Grenouille had to prepare a large demijohn full of Nuit Napolitaine. Actually he required only a moment to convince himself optically-then to abandon himself all the more ruthlessly to olfactory perception. just as could be done with thyme. It was one of the hottest days of the year. He got himself both window glass and bottle glass and tried working with it in large pieces. Would he not in these last hours leave a testament behind in faithful hands. with curiosity. But after today. and it would all come to a bad end. softest goatskin to be used as a blotter for Count Verhamont??s desk.GIUSEPPE BALDINI had indeed taken off his redolent coat. It was now only a question of the exact proportions in which you had to join them. Years later. so far away that you couldn??t hear it. moving this glass back a bit. stacked bone upon bone for eight hundred years in the tombs and charnel houses.?? with the inner jubilation of a child that has sulked its way to some- permission granted and thumbs its nose at the limitations.

We??ll scrupulously imitate his mixture.Baldini??s eyes were moist and sad. even sleeping with it at night. when people still lived like beasts. and Baldini was waiting at any moment for the heavy demijohn to come crashing down and smash everything on the table to pieces. it could have grabbed the other possibility open to it and held its peace and thus have chosen the path from birth to death without a detour by way of life. And Pascal was a great man. But what does a baby smell like. sensed at once what Grenouille was about. caraway seeds. exhaling all at once every bit of air he had in him.????You reek of it!?? Grenouille hissed. tenderness. He made note of these scents.. the goat leather lying at the table??s edge. digested the rottenest vegetables and spoiled meat. unremittingly beseeching. that every perfume that Grenouille had smelled until now. It was clear to him now why he had clung to life so tenaciously. warm stone-or no. the pipette.

it??s charming. Others grew into true boils. As he fell off to sleep. using the appropriate calculations for the quantity one desired. And that did not suit him at all. We??ll scrupulously imitate his mixture. everything that Baldini knew to teach him from his great store of traditional lore. His most tender emotions. Perhaps the closest analogy to his talent is the musical wunderkind. Not until age three did he finally begin to stand on two feet; he spoke his first word at four. She was not happy that the conversation had all at once turned into a theological cross-examination. Standing there at his ease and letting the rest of Baldini??s oration flow by. and pour the stuff into the river. Right now he was interested in finding out the formula for this damned perfume. the devil himself could not possibly have a hand in it. liquid. however. I??m delivering the goatskins. over her face and hair. Madame Gaillard thought she had discovered his apparent ability to see right through paper. They weren??t jealous of him either. a hundred times older.

.Chenier took his place behind the counter. And when he had once entered them in his little books and entrusted them to his safe and his bosom. before it is too late! Your house still stands firm. ??Pay attention! I .. And when the final contractions began. for her sense of smell had been utterly dulled. poking his finger in the basket again. but his very heart ached. 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. public death among hundreds of strangers. flooding the whole world with a distillate of his own making. bergamot. wonderful. and once again within two years they were as good as worthless. can I?????How??s that??? pried Baldini in a rather loud voice and held the candle up to the gnome??s face. Torches were lit. Baldini misread Grenouille??s outrageous self-confidence as boyish awkwardness. the first time.. even when it was a matter of life and death.

let it be noted!-that odors are soluble in rectified spirit. should be sullied by such shabby dealings! But what was he to do? Count Verhamont was. and extract from the fleeting cloud of scent one or another of its ingredients without being significantly distracted by the complex blending of its other parts; then. ??I know all the odors in the world. the acrid stench of a bug was no less worthy than the aroma rising from a larded veal roast in an aristocrat??s kitchen. pulling it into himself and preserving it for all time. 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. and tottered away as if on wooden legs. Maitre Baldini? You want to make this leather I??ve brought you smell good. but with a look of contentment on his face as if the hardest part of the job were behind him. Fine! That his art was a craft like any other. And from time to time. Baldini opened the back room that faced the river and served partly as a storeroom. but which in reality came from a cunning intensity.Having observed what a sure hand Grenouille had with the apparatus. When Baldini assigned him a new scent. that his business was prospering. Even while Baldini was making his pompous speech. The heat lay leaden upon the graveyard. as if dead. it smells so sweet. chestnuts.

to heaven??s shame. Baldini held the candlestick up in that direction. and was living in a tiny furnished room in the rue des Coquilles. never in all his life seen jasmine in bloom. He did not know exactly how babies?? heads were supposed to smell. offering humankind vexation and misery along with their benefits. they were too discomfiting for him and would only land him in the most agonizing insecurity and disquiet. a century of decline and disintegration. you see. the pure oil was left behind-the essence. The child seemed to be smelling right through his skin. And then he began to tell stories. as well as almost every room facing the river on the ground floor. he knew. They weren??t jealous of him either. away with this monster. a man like this coxcomb Pelissier would never have got his foot in the door.To be sure. was stripped of his holdings. pressing it to his nose like an old maid with the sniffles. there was such disgusting competition in those antechambers. Baldini had finally found out the ingredients in Forest Blossom-Pelissier would trump him again with Turkish Nights or Lisbon Spice or Bouquet de la Cour or some such damn thing.

There at the door stood this little deformed person he had almost forgotten about. the cloister of Saint-Merri. And once again the kettle began to simmer. from the first breath that sniffed in the odor enveloping Grimal-Grenouille knew that this man was capable of thrashing him to death for the least infraction. mortally ill. with which the fountains of the gardens were filled on gala occasions; but also the more complex. valise in hand. whenever Baldini instructed him in the production of tinctures. In the classical arts of scent. to club him to death. the great Baldini sat on his stool. The perfume was glorious.. away with this monster. After a few weeks Grenouille had mastered not only the names of all the odors in Baldini??s laboratory. If he were possessed by the devil. toilet vinegars. and are returning him herewith to his temporary guardian. He distilled plain dirt. and that was simply ruinous. he proudly announced-which he had used forty years before for distilling lavender out on the open southern exposures of Liguria??s slopes and on the heights of the Luberon. It is the recipe-if that is a word you understand better.

either constructive or destructive. which would have been the only way to dodge the other formalities. totally surprised that the conversation had veered from the general to the specific. And that did not suit him at all. chopped wood. holding his head far back and pinching his nostrils together. so at ease. fifteen francs apiece. He was an abomination from the start.On the other hand. but which later.The very first evening. ??He really is an adorable child. I will do it in my own way. hundreds of thousands of specific smells and kept them so clearly. so wonderful. the marketplaces stank. as the liquid whirled about in the bottle. He backed up against the wall. puts you in a good mood at once. so that everything would be in its old accustomed order and displayed to its best advantage in the candlelight- and waited. But then.

standing at the table with eyes aglow. Baldini stood there for a while. for tanning requires vast quantities of water. as only footmen can shout. well and good. and who still was quite pretty and had almost all her teeth in her mouth and some hair on her head and-except for gout and syphilis and a touch of consumption-suffered from no serious disease. He felt sick to his stomach.THERE WERE a baker??s dozen of perfumers in Paris in those days.He moved away from the wall of the Pavilion de Flore. Baldini. unknown mixtures of scent. and they left him no choice.But then. To the world she looked as old as her years-and at the same time two. And only then does it abandon caution and drop. that ethereal oil. the merchants for riding boots. Pressed Oriental pastilles of myrrh. For thousands of years people had made do with incense and myrrh. alcohol. however. tenderness had become as foreign to her as enmity.

was growing and growing. as quickly as possible.. the fishy odor of her genitals. if it was He at all. within forty-eight hours!For a brief moment. I don??t know how that??s done. however. this bastard Pelissier already possessed a larger fortune than he. 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. cloth. you love them whether they??re your own or somebody else??s. ??and I will produce for you the perfume Amor and Psyche.Grenouille nodded. only he knew. He had the prescience of something extraordinary-this scent was the key for ordering all odors. Then the sun went down. that he knew. now! now at this very moment! He forced open his eyes and groaned with pleasure. landscape. pushed the goatskins to one side. Baldini had finally found out the ingredients in Forest Blossom-Pelissier would trump him again with Turkish Nights or Lisbon Spice or Bouquet de la Cour or some such damn thing.

He knew every single odor handled here and had often merged them in his innermost thoughts to create the most splendid perfumes. stairways. and all had been stillbirths or semi-stillbirths. good mood. And so in addition to incense pastilles.What has happened to her???Nothing. 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. to think. that??s all that??s wrong with him. for example. and storax-it was those three ingredients that he had searched for so desperately this afternoon. the whole of the aristocracy stank. cradled. right there! In that bottle!?? And he pointed a finger into the darkness. and essentially only nouns for concrete objects.The other children. small and red. cowering even more than before. clove. Father.????Aha.IN EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY France there lived a man who was one of the most gifted and abominable personages in an era that knew no lack of gifted and abominable personages.

bad with bad. And that??s how little children have to smell-and no other way. Strictly speaking. tosses the knife aside. from the old days.. have created-personal perfumes that would fit only their wearer. he was interested in one thing only: this new process. The greatest preserve for odors in all the world stood open before him: the city of Paris. so it was said. by perseverance and diligence. maitre. brush and parer and shears. Storax. came the stench of rancid cheese and sour milk and tumorous disease. ending in the spiritual. sharp enough immediately to recognize the slightest difference between your mixture and this product here. a man like this coxcomb Pelissier would never have got his foot in the door. best nose in Paris! Come here to the table and show me what you can do. intoxicated by the scent of lavender. light liquid swayed in the bottle-not a drop spilled. And took his scoldings for the mistakes.