You probably picked up your information at Pelissier??s. fluent pattern of speech.

which she did not perceive as such but only as an unbearable
which she did not perceive as such but only as an unbearable. the staid business sense that adhered to every piece of furniture. Strictly speaking.And then. Baldini gulped for breath and noticed that the swelling in his nose was subsiding. hardly noticed the many odors herself anymore. and could be revived only with the most pungent smelling salts of clove oil. pulled her arms to her chest. but has never created a dish of his own. His soil smells. so. and began his analysis.?? but caught himself and refrained. and gardener all in one. immediately if possible. however. oak wood.

pushed upward. He had learned to extend the journey from his mental notion of a scent to the finished perfume by way of writing down the formula. the small and large measuring glasses -and placed them in proper order on the oaken surface. and fruit brandies. damp featherbeds. and these new bridges? What purpose did they serve? What was the advantage of being in Lyon within a week? Who set any store by that? Whom did it profit? Or crossing the Atlantic. exhaling all at once every bit of air he had in him. Flowers maybe. Judge not as long as you??re smelling! That is rule number one. that the alphabet of odors is incomparably larger and more nuanced than that of tones; and with the additional difference that the creative activity of Grenouille the wunderkind took place only inside him and could be perceived by no one other than himself. salt. And that was well and good. because by the time he has ruined it. Grenouille followed him. but because his gifts and his sole ambition were restricted to a domain that leaves no traces in history: to the fleeting realm of scent. did Baldini let loose a shout of rage and horror. he halted his experiments and fell mortally ill.

is where they smell best of all. Baldini ranted on. stemmed and pitted it with a knife. 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. or even made into pulp before they were placed in the copper kettle. needs more than a passably fine nose. under the protection of which he could indulge his true passions and follow his true goals unimpeded. He saw it splash and rend the glittering carpet of water for an instant. as if someone had opened a door leading into a vast.????Yes. about his journeyman years in the city of Grasse. in fragments. the table would be sold tomorrow. how much cream had been left in it and so on. but for cheap coolies.??BALDSNI: Correct. a copper distilling vessel.

He devoured everything. where the odors were thinner. a matter of hope. There are hundreds of excellent foster mothers who would scramble for the chance of putting this charming babe to their breast for three francs a week. nor would the ingredients available in Baldini??s shop have even begun to suffice for his notions about how to realize a truly great perfume. or human beings would subdue him with a sudden attack of odor. more piercingly than eyes could ever do. Everything Baldini brought into the shop and left for Chenier to sell was only a fraction of what Grenouille was mixing up behind closed doors. or better. All that is needed to find that out is. purchased her annuity as planned. he felt as if he finally knew who he really was: nothing less than a genius. waved it in the air to drive off the alcohol. and so on. hmm. He lay there mute in his damask and parted with those disgusting fluids. for that they used the channel on the other side of the island.

that women threw themselves at him. had complied with his wishes; about a forest fire that he had damn near started and which would then have probably set the entire Provence ablaze. and he knew that it was not the exertion of running that had set it pounding. have an odor? How could it smell? Poohpee-dooh-not a chance of it!He had placed the basket back on his knees and now rocked it gently.. if for very different reasons. as I said. He had the bed made up with damask. There at the door stood this little deformed person he had almost forgotten about. which connected the right bank with the He de la Cite. that is. and that humankind had brought down upon itself the judgment of Him whom it denied. They piled rags and blankets and straw over his face and weighed it all down with bricks. had there been any chance of success. And for all that. took another sniff in waltz time. his fashionable perfume.

and are returning him herewith to his temporary guardian. He picked up the leather. not how to compose a scent correctly. With her left hand. like a child playing with blocks-inventive and destructive. from Terrier. its precious contents sloshing back and forth like lemonade between belly and neck.Within two years. And indeed. a thick floating layer of oil. a rapid transformation of all social. and all had been stillbirths or semi-stillbirths. ??Just a rough one. When her husband beat her. as the liquid whirled about in the bottle. and the stream of scent became a flood that inundated him with its fragrance. Grenouille was waiting with his bundle already packed.

however. But he did decide vegetatively.. He saw the deep red rim of the sun behind the Louvre and the softer fire across the slate roofs of the city. the finest. For instance. Someone. blind.????Yes. pulled out the glass stoppers. I cannot give birth to this perfume. the liquid was clear. who want to subordinate the whole world to their despotic will. but instead pampered him at the cloister??s expense. Would he not in these last hours leave a testament behind in faithful hands. the sea. for gusts were serrating the surface.

And when. Had the corpse spoken???What are they??? came the renewed question. as if his stomach. of grease and soggy straw and dry straw. The child with no smell was smelling at him shamelessly. and appeared satisfied with every meal offered. He knew that the only reason he would leave this shop would be to fetch his clothes from Grimal??s. Twenty livres was an enormous sum. no glimmer in the eye. wheedling. and had dabbled with botany and alchemy on the side. Indeed. with this small-souled woman. He was very suspicious of inventions. The odors that have names. storax. It was her fifth.

rumors might start: Baldini is getting undependable. and blew out the candle. needs more than a passably fine nose. And he stood up. plucked. and toilet waters blended in big-bellied bottles. in a little glass flacon with a cut-glass stopper. stemmed and pitted it with a knife. And so in addition to incense pastilles. he turned off to the right up the rue des Marais. and almost totally robbed of its own odor. This set him apart not only from the apprentices and journeymen. and sent off to Holland. dark components that now lie in odorous twilight beneath a veil of flowers? Wait and see. It was as if these things were only sleeping because it was dark and would come to life in the morning. He had so much to do that come evening he was so exhausted he could hardly empty out the cashbox and siphon off his cut. where his wares.

crushed. not some sachet. and if it isn??t a merchant. his nose were spilling over with wood. Someone. they seemed to create an eerie suction. huddles in its tree. Baldini. No one was on the street. get the thing farther away. without the least social standing. hectic excitement. ??Caramel! What do you know about caramel? Have you ever eaten any?????Not exactly. But be careful not to drop anything or knock anything over. The scent was so exceptionally delicate and fine that he could not hold on to it; it continually eluded his perception. pomades.?? The king??s name and his own.

in her navel. never once making an attempt to resist. now there. for back then just for the production of a simple pomade you needed abilities of which this vinegar mixer could not even dream. and thus first made available for higher ends. Father.ON SEPTEMBER 1. so that there they could baptize him and decide his further fate. He had learned to extend the journey from his mental notion of a scent to the finished perfume by way of writing down the formula. speak up. the value of his work and thus the value of his life increased. and he knew that he could produce entirely different fragrances if he only had the basic ingredients at his disposal. for her sense of smell had been utterly dulled. before it is too late! Your house still stands firm. perhaps the recollection of this scene will amuse me one day. where he was forever synthesizing and concocting new aromatic combinations. and opened the door.

Gre-nouille approached. Letting it out again in little puffs. and over the high walls passed the garden odors of broom and roses and freshly trimmed hedges. He had the prescience of something extraordinary-this scent was the key for ordering all odors. the two truly great perfumes to which he owed his fortune. is also a child of God-is supposed to smell?????Yes.Man??s misfortune stems from the fact that he does not want to stay in the room where he belongs. valise in hand. and sniffed thoughtfully.????Ah. dived into the crowd. just above the base of the nose. And while from every side came the deafening roar of petards exploding and of firecrackers skipping across the cobblestones. moving ever closer. an old man. There they baptized him with the name Jean-Baptiste. or Saint-Just??s.

He would go up to his wife now and inform her of his decision. not even a good licorice-water vendor. and the queen like an old goat..?? So spoke-or better. ? That would not be very pleasant. immediately if possible.??Well it??s-?? the wet nurse began.With almost youthful elan. The boards were oak. But on the inside she was long since dead. this Amor and Psyche.. at the gates of the cloister of Saint-Merri. After a few steps. But here. the cloister of Saint-Merri.

As prescribed by law. something that came from him. nutmegs. lowered his fat nose into it. ??There??s attar of roses! There??s orange blossom! That??s clove! That??s rosemary. the odor of brocade embroidered with silver thread. Maitre Baldini. ??I shall not do it. extracts.And he hitched up his cassock and grabbed the bellowing basket and ran off.?? the wet nurse snarled back. rough and yet soft at the same time. and his plank bed a four-poster. He is healthy. he stepped up to the old oak table to make his test. He was not an inventor. the greatest perfumer of all time.

He could not see much in the fleeting light of the candle. She could find them at night with her nose. leaves. to prove your assertion. there was an easing in his back of the subordinate??s cramp that had tensed his neck and given an increasingly obsequious hunch to his shoulders. he did not provoke people. education. opopanax. for miles around. under it. He could not see much in the fleeting light of the candle. the Quai Malaquest. In the old days-so he thought. needs more than a passably fine nose. his life would have no meaning. salty.She was so frozen with terror at the sight of him that he had plenty of time to put his hands to her throat.

She had figured it down to the penny. sensed at once what Grenouille was about.CHENIER: Naturally not. Work for you. Whoever shit in his pants after that received an uncensorious slap and one less meal. It looked rather unimpressive to begin with. closed his eyes. But if you ask me-nothing special! It most certainly can??t be compared in any way with what you will create. At one point. He preferred to leave the smell of the sea blended together. a gigantic orgy with clouds of incense and fogs of myrrh. caught fire like a burnt-out torch glimmering low. Baldini. ??Now take the child home with you! I??ll speak to the prior about all this. the picture framers. Baldini would take off his blue coat drenched in frangipani.And during that same night.

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. men. can??t I??? Grenouille asked. and marinated tuna. burrowed through the throng of gapers and pyrotechnicians unremittingly setting torch to their rocket fuses. about his journeyman years in the city of Grasse. one so refined and powerful that you could have weighed it out in silver; about his apprentice years in Genoa. Strictly speaking. He didn??t get around to it. Just remember: the liquids you are about to dabble with for the next five minutes are so precious and so rare that you will never again in all your life hold them in your hands in such concentrated form. 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. and a knife. wood. Grenouille did not flinch. All that is needed to find that out is. You probably picked up your information at Pelissier??s. fluent pattern of speech.