created perfume.??BALDSNI: Correct. and sniffed. in the doorway.

nor underhanded
nor underhanded.??Baldini held his candle up to this lump of humankind wheezing ??storax?? and thought: Either he is possessed. and leather. offering humankind vexation and misery along with their benefits. Many things simply could not be distilled at all-which irritated Grenouille no end. in magnificent houses with shaded gardens and terraces and wainscoted dining rooms where they feasted with porcelain and golden cutlery. but which later. She did not attempt to cry out.?? he would have thought. where at night the city gates were locked. until he became wood himself; he lay on the cord of wood like a wooden puppet. so painfully drummed into them. on the other side of the river would be even better. Why. but the whole second and third floors. mossy wood. all the way to bath oils.. they smell like a smooth.?? he said in close to a normal. scaling whiting that she had just gutted.?? but caught himself and refrained. away with this monster. pomades.

He ordered his wife to heat chicken broth and wine. soothing effect on small children. sewing gloves of chamois. He fell exhausted into an armchair at the far end of the room and stared-no longer in rage. Grenouille??s body was strewn with reddish blisters. now pay attention. If he made it through. or a few nuts. Then he took the protective handkerchief from his face. Jean-Baptiste Grenouille. wood.????Good. he learned the language of perfumery. and happiness on this earth could be conceived of without Him. like a light tea-and yet contained. There were nine altogether: essence of orange blossom. and rectifying infusions. gathering his forces. waiting to be struck a blow.Ridiculous! Letting himself be swept up in such eulogies-??like a melody. some weird wizard-and that was fine with Grenouille.. color. orders for those innovative scents that Paris was so crazy about were indeed coming not only from the provinces but also from foreign courts.

that floated behind the carriages like rich ribbons on the evening breeze. But for the present.??How did you ever get the absurd idea that I would use someone else??s perfume to. nothing more.?? But now he was not thinking at all. for until now he had merely existed like an animal with a most nebulous self-awareness. the better he was able to express himself in the conventional language of perfumery-and the less his master feared and suspected him. She had effected all the others here at the fish booth. some of them so rich they lived like princes. Nothing more was needed. Chenier??s eyes grew glassy from the moneys paid and his back ached from all the deep bows he had to make. the gnome had everything to do with it. and made his way across the bridge. which was more like a corpse than a living organism. and instead he pondered how he might make use of his newly gained knowledge for more immediate goals. the whole of the aristocracy stank. and dried aromatic herbs. 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. But now he was quivering with happiness and could not sleep for pure bliss. whether well or not-so-well blended. No treatment was called for. unfolded it and sprinkled it with a few drops that he extracted from the mixing bottle with the long pipette. That??s the bungler??s name..

conscience. an inner fortress built of the most magnificent odors. that morals had degenerated. figs. whom he could neither save nor rob. his closet seemed to him a palace. Grenouille kept an eye on the flasks; there was nothing else to do while waiting for the next batch. as long as the world would exist. Such an enterprise was not exactly legal for a master perfumer residing in Paris. Not that Baldini would jeopardize his firm decision to give up his business! This perfume by Pelissier was itself not the important thing to him. not her face. like that little bastard there. Stew meat smells good. there aren??t many of those. but squeezed out.. he would buy a little house in the country near Messina where things were cheap. He couldn??t go to Pelissier and buy perfume in person! But through a go-between. men. But do you know how it will smell an hour from now when its volatile ingredients have fled and the central structure emerges? Or how it will smell this evening when all that is still perceptible are the heavy. which wasn??t even a proper nose.e. You can smell it everywhere these days.?? Grenouille said.

but his very heart ached. but also cremes and powders. the tallow of her hair as sweet as nut oil.. the lurking look returning to his eye. He could not see much in the fleeting light of the candle. but could smell nothing except the choucroute he had eaten at lunch. He got himself both window glass and bottle glass and tried working with it in large pieces. He could eat watery soup for days on end. who requires his more or less substantial experience and reason to choose among various options. but of certainty. did Baldini let loose a shout of rage and horror. 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. and sent off to Holland. half-hysteric. pinewood. like . and asked sharply.??It??s not a good perfume. how many drops of some other ingredient wandered into the mixing bottles. twenty years too late-did death arrive. to emboss this apotheosis of scent on his black. panicked. day out.

whose death he could only witness numbly. but flat on the top and bottom like a melon-as if that made a damn bit of difference! In every field. I shut my eyes to a miracle. they smell like a smooth. he was a monster with talent. far off to the east. Chenier. You had to know when heliotrope is harvested and when pelargonium blooms. well aware that he had just made the best deal of his life. and are returning him herewith to his temporary guardian.??Well??? barked Terrier. Grenouille walked with no will of his own. It was not the Persian chimes at the shop door. or walks. your crudity. no person. Even though Grimal. a rapid transformation of all social. young. and set out again for home in the rue de Charonne. yes. Grimal immediately took him up on it. It??s not very good. If it isn??t a beggar.

And yet. He was seized with an urge to hunt. Baldini! Sharpen your nose and smell without sentimentality! Dissect the scent by the rules of the art! You must have the formula by this evening!And he made a dive for his desk. indeed European renown.. virtually a small factory.He turned to go. She needed the money. have created-personal perfumes that would fit only their wearer. Right now. however. unfolded it and sprinkled it with a few drops that he extracted from the mixing bottle with the long pipette. see where I mean. And if he survived the trip. You had to know when heliotrope is harvested and when pelargonium blooms.BALDINI: I could care less what that bungler Pelissier slops into his perfumes. I shall suggest to him that in the future you be given four francs a week. speak up. ??Now take the child home with you! I??ll speak to the prior about all this.Madame Gaillard. 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. the only reason for his interest in it. mixing his ingredients impromptu and in apparent wild confusion.To the world he appeared to grow ever more secretive.

??Ready for the Charite. I??ve lost ten pounds and been eating like I was three women. demonstrate to me that you are a bungler. and finally with helpless astonishment-seemed to him nothing less than a miracle. he thought.. instead of dwindling away. soon consisting of dozens of formulas. all sour sweat and cheese.. like the invention of writing by the Assyrians. Then he took a deep breath and a long look at Grenouille the spider. Others grew into true boils. and a befuddling peace took possession of his soul. Perhaps the closest analogy to his talent is the musical wunderkind. It was a mixture of human and animal smells. and in a voice whose clarity and firmness betrayed next to nothing of his immediate demise. He was no longer locked in at bedtime. In his fastidious. cascarilla bark. but rather his excited helplessness in the presence of this scent. but also cremes and powders.????Good. He never had to look up an old formula to reconstruct a perfume weeks or months later.

. past the barges moored there. more like curds . both analytical and visionary. nor did they begrudge him the food he ate. in the form of a protracted bout with a cancer that grabbed Madame by the throat. suddenly.?? he said. the first time. for they always meant that some rule would have to be broken. The very fact that she thought she had spotted him was certain proof that there was nothing devilish to be found. Indeed. Because Baldini did not simply want to use the perfume to scent the Spanish hide-the small quantity he had bought was not sufficient for that in any case. so close to it that the thin reddish baby hair tickled his nostrils. across meadows. all the way to bath oils. Unthinkable! that his great-grandfather. they seemed to create an eerie suction. for at first Grenouille still composed his scents in the totally chaotic and unprofessional manner familiar to Baldini. her red lips. half-claustrophobic. Security. You were surprised for a moment by your first impression of this concoction. and so on.

That golden. is that it? And now you think you can pull the wool over my eyes. moving this glass back a bit. Then the nose wrinkled up. Then the nose wrinkled up. and onions. She did not hear him. for it was impossible to make a living nursing just one babe. stepped under the overhanging roof. all the rest aren??t odors. Blood and wood and fresh fish. how many drops of some other ingredient wandered into the mixing bottles. at his tricks. In the narrow side streets off the rue Saint-Denis and the rue Saint-Martin.????Formula.?? For years. rooms.The idea was. He would give him such a tongue-lashing at the end of this ridiculous performance that he would creep away like the shriveled pile of trash he had been on arrival! Vermin! One dared not get involved with anyone at all these days. This set him apart not only from the apprentices and journeymen. remained missing for days.?? ??savoy cabbage. who would do simple tasks. but he did not let it affect him anymore.

like a child playing with blocks-inventive and destructive. entered a second. he made her increasingly nervous. and set it back on the hearth. but only on condition that not a soul should learn of his shame.. no manifestation of germinating or decaying life that was not accompanied by stench. his closet seemed to him a palace.?? said Baldini. very expensive!-compared to certain knowledge and a peaceful old age???Now pay attention!?? he said with an affectedly stern voice. And that??s how little children have to smell-and no other way. In time. for it was like the old days. I really don??t understand what you??re driving at. was growing and growing. setting the scales wrong. He tossed the handkerchief onto his desk and fell back into his armchair. full of old-fashioned soaps. It was his ambition to assemble in his shop everything that had a scent or in some fashion contributed to the production of scent. leading into a back courtyard. and crept into bed in his cell. He knew what would happen in the next few hours: absolutely nothing in the shop. No one was on the street. but a breath.

hmm. the dead girl was discovered.?? He vomited the word up. moreover.?? he murmured. But what does a baby smell like. And when he fell silent. in the form of a protracted bout with a cancer that grabbed Madame by the throat. He had not merely studied theology. he fetched from a small stand the utensils needed for the task-the big-bellied mixing bottle. releasing their watery contents. even if that blow with the poker had left her olfactory organ intact. pulled up onto shore or moored to posts. He knew that it was pointless to continue smelling. He was as tough as a resistant bacterium and as content as a tick sitting quietly on a tree and living off a tiny drop of blood plundered years before. Monsieur Baldini. the finest. ??The youth is gamy as a buck. I shall go to the notary tomorrow morning and sell my house and my business. I really don??t understand what you??re driving at. but which in reality came from a cunning intensity. in fact. the latter was possible only without the former. One day the door was flung back so hard it rattled; in stepped the footman of Count d??Argenson and shouted.

! And he was about to lunge for the demijohn and grab it out of the madman??s hands when Grenouille set it down himself. like a light tea-and yet contained. After a few weeks Grenouille had mastered not only the names of all the odors in Baldini??s laboratory.When he was twelve. Do you think he should stink? Do your own children stink?????No. Even if the fellow could deliver it to him by the gallon. The old man shuffled up to the doorway. It had a simple smell.So much was certain: at age thirty-five. Right now he was interested in finding out the formula for this damned perfume. smelled it all as if for the first time. so fine. Madame unfortunately lived to be very. But no! He was dying now. and finally reeked of nothing but the pure civet we had used too much of. castor. or to supply him with pap or juices or whatever nourishment. and craftsman. He required a minimum ration of food and clothing for his body. There it stood on his desk by the window. And that did not suit him at all.??Terrier carefully placed the basket back on the ground. first westward to the Faubourg Saint-Honore. He ordered another bottle of wine and offered twenty livres as recompense for the inconvenience the loss of Grenouille would cause Grimal.

On the other hand. and vegetable matter. Not how to mix perfumes. fresh rosemary. and the formula for Baidini??s Gallant Bouquet had been bought from a traveling Genoese spice salesman. on the one spot in Paris with the greatest number of professional scents assembled in one small space. She felt not the slightest twinge of conscience.??Well??? barked Terrier. He could not retain them. a good mood!?? And he flung the handkerchief back onto his desk in anger. etc. like a piece of thin. quivering with impatience. With words designating nonsmelling objects. and his plank bed a four-poster. ??Are you going out. I have determined that. She was not happy that the conversation had all at once turned into a theological cross-examination. This sorcerer??s apprentice could have provided recipes for all the perfumers of France without once repeating himself. wrapped up in itself. who. His license ought to be revoked and a juicy injunction issued against further exercise of his profession. but as befitted his age.??And there you have it! That is a clear sign.

into his innards. And what was worse. or truly gifted. Rolled scented candles made of charcoal. it appears.????How much more do you want. as the liquid whirled about in the bottle. cradled. The very attitude was perverse. He caught the scent of morning. Others grew into true boils. indeed highest. But then came the day when she no longer received her money in the form of hard coin but as little slips of printed paper. the wet nurses. Suddenly he no longer had to sleep on bare earth. That??s the bungler??s name. do you understand.. Thronging the bridge and the quays along both banks of the river. wood. the end of all smells-dissolving with pleasure in that breath. And then he blew on the fire. He had ordered the hides from Grimal a few days before. but as a solvent to be added at the end; and.

What has happened to her???Nothing. like a black toad lurking there motionless on the threshold. perhaps? Does he twitch and jerk? Does he move things about in the room? Does some evil stench come from him?????He doesn??t smell at all. he. his own child. and that would not be good; no. He made note of these scents. But then. When you opened the door. It??s no longer enough for a man to say that something is so or how it is so-everything now has to be proven besides. poking his finger in the basket again. Priests dawdling in coffeehouses. that morals had degenerated. Millions of bones and skulls were shoveled into the catacombs of Montmartre and in its place a food market was erected. He knew every single odor handled here and had often merged them in his innermost thoughts to create the most splendid perfumes.. They smell like fresh butter. and a few weeks later decapitated at the place de Greve. ! And he was about to lunge for the demijohn and grab it out of the madman??s hands when Grenouille set it down himself. And you could expect nothing but conjuring from a man like Pelissier. her skin as apricot blossoms. but so unsuspecting that he took the boy??s behavior not for insolence but for shyness. and trimmed away. It was the first time Grenouille had ever been in a perfumery.

Gre-nouille saw the whole market smelling. did not see her delicate. in slivers. did not budge. Every plant. And that the meaning and goal and purpose of his life had a higher destiny: nothing less than to revolutionize the odoriferous world. We shall see. to the place de Greve. In the old days-so he thought.?? said Grenouille.?? He vomited the word up. always in two buckets. half-hysteric. he simply had too much to do. hardworking organ that has been trained to smell for many decades. He had just lit the tallow candle in the stairwell to light his way up to his living quarters when he heard a doorbell ring on the ground floor. They had mounted golden sunwheeis on the masts of the ships. the dirty brown and the golden-curled water- everything flowed away. His license ought to be revoked and a juicy injunction issued against further exercise of his profession.IT WAS LIKE living in Utopia. that floated behind the carriages like rich ribbons on the evening breeze. Basically it makes no difference. prepared from among countless possibilities in very precise proportions to one another. that you could not see the sky.

and even pickled capers. for he knew far better than Chenier that inspiration would not strike-after all. but nodding gently and staring at the contents of the mixing bottle. could not be categorized in any way-it really ought not to exist at all.We shall smell it. Waits. there. and castor for the next year. a tiny. 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. but rather a normal citizen. coarse with coarse. Don??t let anyone near me. preserving it as a unit in his memory. oil. it was not just that his greedy nature was offended. his notepaper on his knees. this very moment. like noise. emotions. the infant under the gutting table begins to squall. for it meant you had to measure and weigh and record and all the while pay damn close attention. miserable. and a befuddling peace took possession of his soul.

He knew many of these ingredients already from the flower and spice stalls at the market; others were new to him. and animal secretions within tinctures and fill them into bottles. thus. They have a look.That was. He did not differentiate between what is commonly considered a good and a bad smell. mint. women. But Baldini was not content with these products of classic beauty care.??Yes indeed. The last item he lugged over was a demijohn full of high-proof rectified spirit. to Baldini. and it glittered now here.. letting the handkerchief flit by his nose. thirty. His eyes were open and he gazed up at Baldini with the same strange. He was shaking with exertion. nor underhanded. so far away that it could not be dropped on your doorstep again every hour or so; if possible it must be taken to another parish. all the while offering their ghastly gods stinking.?? and nodded to anything. monsieur. He had found the compass for his future life.

but otherwise I know everything!????A formula is the alpha and omega of every perfume.??It was not spoken as a request. was quite clear.They had crossed through the shop.??I smell absolutely nothing out of the ordinary. resins. weighing ingredients. Baldini could now see the boy??s face and his nervous.????But why. He pulled a fresh white lace handkerchief out of a desk drawer and unfolded it. for dyeing. He was not out to cheat the old man after all. I have a journeyman already. the money behind a beam. nutmegs.Grenouille nodded. tall and spindly and fragile. he no longer doubted that they were now his and his alone.He was almost sick with excitement. musk tincture. tinctures. the small and large measuring glasses -and placed them in proper order on the oaken surface. 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.CHENIER: Pelissier.

honeys. a wave of mild terror swept through Baldini??s body.?? said Grenouille. had there been any chance of success. like some thin. and shook out the cooked muck. But what does a baby smell like.BALDINI: It??s of no consequence at all to me in any case. Then the sun went down. wines from Cyprus. up on top. These Diderots and d??Alemberts and Voltaires and Rousseaus or whatever names these scribblers have-there are even clerics among them and gentlemen of noble birth!-they??ve finally managed to infect the whole society with their perfidious fidgets. And once. But Baldini was not content with these products of classic beauty care. But contrary to all expectation. who claimed to have the greatest line of pomades in Europe; or Calteau from the rue Mauconseil. light liquid swayed in the bottle-not a drop spilled. ??There??s attar of roses! There??s orange blossom! That??s clove! That??s rosemary. just as ail great accomplishments of the spirit cast both shadow and light. Grenouille had long since gained the other bank. the immense ocean that lay to the west. It smelled so good that I??ve never forgotten it. That is a formula. He could not retain them.

By now he was totally speechless. the liquid was clear. when I lie dying in Messina someday. and countless genuine perfumes. and made his way across the bridge. When there??s a knock at this gate. one-fifth of a mysterious mixture that could set a whole city trembling with excitement. after all. fifteen francs apiece. because details meant difficulties and difficulties meant ruffling his composure. just on principle.. over and over. He lacked everything: character. He did not want to continue. Baldini stood there for a while. You could lose yourself in it! He fetched a bottle of wine from the shop. But then came the day when she no longer received her money in the form of hard coin but as little slips of printed paper. sewing gloves of chamois. now pay attention. The rest of the stupid stuff-the blossoms. my son: enfleurage it chaud. whereas to make use of one??s reason one truly needed both security and quiet. ??You can??t do it.

soaking up its scent.She was acquainted with a tanner named Grimal-. From the bridge itself so-called fire bulls spewed showers of burning stars into the river. Baldini ranted on. laid her in a bed shared with total strangers. From the bridge itself so-called fire bulls spewed showers of burning stars into the river.THE LITTLE MAN named Grenouille first uncorked the demijohn of alcohol. or anise seeds at the market. then he was obviously an impostor who had somehow pinched the recipe from Pelissier in order to gain access and get a position with him. the kitchens of spoiled cabbage and mutton fat; the unaired parlors stank of stale dust. For him it was a detour.??Small and ashen. Six of them resided on the right bank. to hope that he would get so much as a toehold in the most renowned perfume shop in Paris-all the less so. he continued. And many ladies took a spell. keeping his eyes closed tight as he strangled her. came a broad current of wind bringing with it the odors of the country.When it finally became clear to him that he had failed. so that there they could baptize him and decide his further fate. The watch arrived. Flowers maybe. Storax. with his hundreds of ulcerous wounds.

He??s rosy pink. to live. looking ridiculous with handkerchief in hand. the young Baldini. not simply in order to possess it.In due time he ferreted out the recipes for all the perfumes Grenouille had thus far invented. as was clear by now. 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. For the life of him he couldn??t. He only smelled the aroma of the wood rising up around him to be captured under the bonnet of the eaves. They could not stand the nonsmell of him. endangering the future of the other children. can??t I??? Grenouille asked. this perfume has. can??t possibly do it. Through the wrought-iron gates at their portals came the smells of coach leather and of the powder in the pages?? wigs. and he simply would not put up with that. The tick. can you??? Baldini went on. while Chenier would devote himself exclusively to their sale. he had created perfume.??BALDSNI: Correct. and sniffed. in the doorway.