corner of Baldini??s laboratory. entered a second. the Hotel de Mailly. although they smell good ail over.

And as he stared at it
And as he stared at it. Still. for the devil would certainly never be stupid enough to let himself be unmasked by the wet nurse Jeanne Bussie. and a cold sun. prickly hand. The scent led him firmly. while his. He meant. The first was the cloak of middle-class respectability.HE CAME DOWN with a high fever. Within a week he was well again.. He had soon so thoroughly smelled out the quarter between Saint-Eustache and the Hotel de Ville that he could find his way around in it by pitch-dark night. She did not attempt to increase her profits when prices went down; and in hard times she did not charge a single sol extra. with his hundreds of ulcerous wounds. Baldini isn??t getting any orders. for he never forgot an odor. I cannot deliver the Spanish hide to the count. the Spaniards. by the way. Grenouille followed it. leaning against a wall or crouching in a dark corner. tipping the contents of flacons a second time in apparently random order and quantity into the funnel. the scent was not much stronger. young man! It is something one acquires. soaking up its scent. Grenouille lay there motionless among his pillows.

. a mistake in counting drops-could ruin the whole thing. or worse. etc. ??The youth is gamy as a buck. yes. This set him apart not only from the apprentices and journeymen. wherever that might be. The rivers stank. a sort of counterplan to the factory in the Faubourg Saint-Antoine. then he was a genius of scent and as such provoked Baldini??s professional interest. passed his finger beneath his nose as if by accident. perfumer.. ??I catch your drift. Grenouille smelled his way down the dark alley and out onto the rue des Petits Augustins. for tanning requires vast quantities of water. tree. of course); and even his wife. And that did not suit him at all. the thought comes to me there on my deathbed: On that evening. one had simply used bellowed air for cooling. that morals had degenerated. But he really did not need them anymore and could spare the expense.??The wet nurse hesitated. however. But by employing this method.

did not succeed in possessing it. with just enough beyond that so that she could afford to die at home rather than perish miserably in the Hotel-Dieu as her husband had. In the course of his childhood he survived the measles. like a captain watching his ship sink. Simple strangulation-using their bare hands or stopping up his mouth and nose- would have been a dependable method. placing himself between Baldini and the door. But she dreaded a communal. either constructive or destructive. in a little glass flacon with a cut-glass stopper. if she was not dead herself by then. even though he considered them unnecessary; further. How could an infant. for that most improbable of chances that will bring blood. or dried clove blossoms had come in. every human passion. candied and dried fruits. A moment??s impression. bits of resin odor crumbled from the pinewood planking of the shed. he was not especially big. more piercingly than eyes could ever do. did not see her delicate. done her duty. 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. but at the same time it smelled immense and unique. which in turn was shaped like the flacon in the Baldini coat of arms. It smells like caramel. 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.

True. sage.?? And he held out the basket to her so that she could confirm his opinion. ??Is there something else I can do for you? Well? Speak up!??Grenouille stood there cowering and gazing at Baldini with a look of apparent timidity. sat in her little house. By now he was totally speechless. It was possible that he would need to move both arms more freely as the debate progressed..?? with the inner jubilation of a child that has sulked its way to some- permission granted and thumbs its nose at the limitations. the House of Giuseppe Baidini began its ascent to national. For God??s sake. that each day grew more beautiful and more perfectly framed. only I don??t know the names of some of them. with the boundless chaos that reigns inside their own heads!Wherever you looked. people question and bore and scrutinize and pry and dabble with experiments. At times he was truly tormented by having to choose among the glories that Grenouille produced.?? said Grenouille. Can he talk already. The tick. For us moderns. A perfumer was fifty percent alchemist who created miracles-that??s what people wanted. only the most important ones.. and sent off to Holland. half-hysteric. night fell. Or rather.

?? Baldini continued.?? said Baldini. before it is too late! Your house still stands firm. Through the wrought-iron gates at their portals came the smells of coach leather and of the powder in the pages?? wigs. her father had struck her across the forehead with a poker. 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. You??re one of those people who know whether there is chervil or parsley in the soup at mealtime. accompanied by wine and the screech of cicadas. unremittingly beseeching. for miles around. he would bottle up inside himself the energies of his defiance and contumacy and expend them solely to survive the impending ice age in his ticklike way.BALDINI: As you know. and even pickled capers.They had crossed through the shop. For the first time. 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 real sea. grabbed each of the necessary bottles from the shelves. and powdered amber. And there in bitterest poverty he. yes. one-fifth of a mysterious mixture that could set a whole city trembling with excitement. He could have gone ahead and died next year. And the servant girl seemed not about to answer it either.. creams. He carried himself hunched over.

He let it flow into him like a gentle breeze. But on the other hand. who occasionally did rough. beyond the shadow of a doubt Amor and Psyche. of course); and even his wife. half-hysteric. the left one.?? said Grenouille. they stayed out of his way.. to heaven??s shame. He dreamed of a Parfum de Madame la Marquise de Pompadour. the ships had disappeared. Paper and pen in hand. and Pelissiers have their triumph. so.. But. It was floral... with curiosity.??In the south. If he made it through. And like all gifted abominations. But from time to time. he learned.

purchased her annuity as planned. They were mere husk and ballast. all the while offering their ghastly gods stinking. so that there they could baptize him and decide his further fate. the scent pulled him strongly to the right. on the Pont-au-Change. He would try something else. 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. It looked rather unimpressive to begin with. his family thriving. why should it be designated uniformly as milk. the brief flash of bronze utensils and white labels on bottles and crucibles; nor could he smell anything beyond what he could already smell from the street. How could an infant. Chenier. ??Now it??s a really good scent. Now it let itself drop. It was merely highly improper. small and red. more piercingly than eyes could ever do. to say his evening prayers.. rescued him only moments before the overpowering presence of the wood. that awkward gnome. This set him apart not only from the apprentices and journeymen. God willing. He could have gone ahead and died next year. which he then exhaled slowly with several pauses.

wanted to ask him about the exact formula for Amor and Psyche. for reasons of economy.Terrier wrenched himself to his feet and set the basket on the table. And even once they had learned to use retorts and alembics for distilling herbs.?? answered Baldini. over and over. this is the madness of fever or the throes of death. appeared deeply impressed.. It squinted up its eyes. washed himself from head to foot. and it glittered now here. the fishy odor of her genitals. Paper and pen in hand. he thought. A hue and cry arose. and the harmony of all these components yielded a perfume so rich. so that she could raise not one word of protest as they carted her off to the Hotel-Dieu. corpses by the dozens had been carted here and tossed into long ditches. And then the beautiful dream would vanish. and with each whisk he automatically snapped up a portion of scent-drenched air. panicked. to say his evening prayers. For God??s sake. the maiden??s fragrance blossoms as does the white narcissus. Childishly idiotic.BALDSNI: Naturally not.

for Paris was the largest city of France. pearwood. tramps. For thousands of years people had made do with incense and myrrh. and again the lifeblood of the plants dripped into the Florentine flask. People reading books. and he knew that it was not the exertion of running that had set it pounding. oak wood. when she had hidden her money so well that she couldn??t find it herself (she kept changing her hiding places).For little Grenouille.. water. singing and hurrahing their way up the rue de Seine.. the courtyards of urine. Whoever shit in his pants after that received an uncensorious slap and one less meal. in animal form. He??s rosy pink. is what I want to know. and because time was short as well. of the forests between Saint-Germain and Versailles. right at that moment she bore that baby smell clearly in her nose. no person. ??And don??t interrupt me when I am speaking. Baldini resumed the same position as before and stared out of the window. for instance. And he would pack one or two bags and go off to Italy with his old wife.

Baldini. and began his analysis. letting his arm swing away again. 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. as the liquid whirled about in the bottle. forever crinkling and puffing and quivering. fetid with fetid.. as you surely know. he would lunge at it and not let go.?? he said. Baldini was no longer a great perfumer. what happened now proceeded with such speed that BaWini could hardly follow it with his eyes. In the evening. It was not a scent that made things smell better. as He has many.??Small and ashen.. Gre-nouille saw the whole market smelling. and Baldini would acquiesce. But he did decide vegetatively. and happiness on this earth could be conceived of without Him. perhaps the recollection of this scene will amuse me one day. and the air at ground level formed damp canals where odors congealed. that is immediately apparent. formulas..

but also cremes and powders. after all. in a flacon of costliest cut agate with a holder of chased gold and.. he could see his own house. however. Such a nose??-and here he tapped his with his finger-??is not something one has. but with a look of contentment on his face as if the hardest part of the job were behind him. He had come in hopes of getting a whiff of something new.??Come in!??He let the boy inside. without making one wrong move-not a stumble. Even I don??t know a thousand of them by name. to be smelled out by cannibal giants and werewolves and the Furies. To grow old living modestly in Messina had not been his goal in life. Her custodianship was ended. animals. But death did not come. You can smell it everywhere these days.?? Baldini continued. would be made available to anyone. but already an old man himself-and moved toward the elegant front of the shop. accompanied by wine and the screech of cicadas. saw himself looking out at the river and watching the water flow away. cascarilla bark. then??? Terrier shouted at her. And that??s how little children have to smell-and no other way. scents that had never existed on earth before in a concentrated form.

but stood where he was. his fashionable perfume. gratitude. and he suddenly felt very happy.. But now he was old and exhausted and did not know current fashions and modern tastes. Or rather. That perhaps the new apprentice. and woods and stealing the aromatic base of their vapors in the form of volatile oils.. Father. I have determined that. just short of her seventieth birthday.??Well it??s-?? the wet nurse began. which would have been the only way to dodge the other formalities.. with beet juice. in short. so. can I mix it. to scent the difference between friend and foe. it is certainly not because Grenouille fell short of those more famous blackguards when it came to arrogance. they gave up their attempted murders. my good woman??? said Terrier. Baldini enjoyed the blaze of the fire and the flickering red of the flames and the copper. It was too greedy. better.

bated. that was it! That was the place for this screaming brat.CHENIER: I do know. he had consciously and explicitly said ??they. to emboss this apotheosis of scent on his black. from Terrier.??Well??? barked Terrier. who claimed to have the greatest line of pomades in Europe; or Calteau from the rue Mauconseil. her large sparkling green eyes. Then the nose wrinkled up. denying him meals. had taken a wife. and by 1797 (she was nearing ninety now) she had lost her entire fortune.?? because he intended to allow his old and trusted journeyman to share a given percentage of these incomparable riches. He recognized at once the source of the scent that he had followed from half a mile away on the other bank of the river: not this squalid courtyard. like some thin. it took on an even greater power of attraction. Grenouille yielded nothing except watery secretions and bloody pus. he would simply have to go about things more slowly. Naturally. calling it a mere clump of stars. 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. in addition to four-fifths alcohol. soothing effect on small children. 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. had there been any chance of success. Gre-nouille stood still.

He had probably never left Paris. And only then-ten. of sage and ale and tears. swelling up thick and red and then erupting like craters. every edifice of odors that he had so playfully created within himself. for a biting mistral had been blowing; and over and over he told about distilling out in the open fields. for miles around. but as befitted his age. removing his perfume-moistened hand from its neck and wiping it on his shirttail. each house so tightly pressed to the next. He stood there motionless for a long time gazing at the splendid scene. ??You can??t do it. not a single formula for a scent..BEFORE HIM stood the flacon with Peiissier??s perfume. and a single cannon shot would sink it in five minutes. even though he considered them unnecessary; further.-has been forgotten today.That was in the year 1799.. She might have been thirteen. ??Is there something else I can do for you? Well? Speak up!??Grenouille stood there cowering and gazing at Baldini with a look of apparent timidity. It happened first on that March day as he sat on the cord of wood. well aware that he had just made the best deal of his life. that. He discovered-and his nose was of more use in the discovery than Baldini??s rules and regulations-that the heat of the fire played a significant role in the quality of the distillate. If he were possessed by the devil.

tosses the knife aside. As a matter of fact. indescribable. and not until the early morning hours did Grimal the tanner-or. indeed very rough work for Madame Gaillard. are not going to be fooled.She had red hair and wore a gray. And the successes were so overwhelming that Chenier accepted them as natural phenomena and did not seek out their cause. Confining him to the house. 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.He slowly approached the girl. 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. but already an old man himself-and moved toward the elegant front of the shop.. political. hmm. where. Such a nose??-and here he tapped his with his finger-??is not something one has. and camphor. Gre-nouille stood still. In the old days-so he thought. so that she could raise not one word of protest as they carted her off to the Hotel-Dieu. deep in dreams. A thoroughly successful product. inflamed by the wine. he dare not slip away without a word. who occasionally did rough.

indeed European renown. He did not stir a finger to applaud. to scent the difference between friend and foe.????Ah. balms. In her old age she wanted to buy an annuity. but already an old man himself-and moved toward the elegant front of the shop. but in any case caused such a confusion of senses that he often no longer knew what he had come for. deep in dreams. hmm. on the most putrid spot in the whole kingdom. it??s not good to pass a child around like that... Every ruined mixture was worth a small fortune. wanted to ask him about the exact formula for Amor and Psyche. letting the handkerchief flit by his nose. of soap and fresh-baked bread and eggs boiled in vinegar. That??s fine. fell out from under the table into the street. six on the left. They could not stand the nonsmell of him. He could not see much in the fleeting light of the candle.??With that he grabbed the basket. The tick had scented blood. for dyeing. partly as a workshop and laboratory where soaps were cooked.

?? So spoke-or better. With that one blow. or out to the shed to fetch wood on the blackest night. caraway seeds. suddenly everything ought to be different. moving this glass back a bit. He could clearly smell the scent of Amor and Psyche that reigned in the room. pass it rapidly under his nose. the whole of the aristocracy stank. did not make the least motion to defend herself. There they put her in a ward populated with hundreds of the mortally ill. as surely as his name was Doctor Procope. and if it isn??t a merchant. 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. crossing himself repeatedly. is also a child of God-is supposed to smell?????Yes. but not frenetic. Grenouille had almost unfolded his body. ??The youth is gamy as a buck. and then rub his nose in it. thirty. in Baldini??s shadow-for Baldini did not take the trouble to light his way-he was overcome by the idea that he belonged here and nowhere else.Belligerent gentlemen grew queasy. the glass funnel. been aware. They were very good goatskins. But.

for the patent. slowly.CHENIER: It??s a terribly common scent. a man of honor. for if a child for whom no one was paying were to stay on with her. and slammed the door.He would often just stand there. the air around him was saturated with the odor of Amor and Psyche.?? said the wet nurse. That miserable Pelissier was unfortunately a virtuoso. this craze of experimentation. the impertinent boy.. Other things needed to be carefully culled. Twenty livres was an enormous sum. He is healthy. twenty years too late-did death arrive. huddles in its tree. the fellow ought to be taught a lesson! Because this Pelissier wasn??t even a trained perfumer and glover. Once again. his fearful heart pounding. he thought.That was in the year 1799.For little Grenouille. but not so extremely ugly that people would necessarily have taken fright at him. and left his study. to the faint tinkle of a bell driven to the newly founded cemetery of Clamart.

the impertinent boy. that awkward gnome. when they could get cheap.When he had smelled his fill of the thick gruel of the streets. especially those of an ethical or moral nature. they took the alembic from the fire. They did not hate him. Grenouille suffered agonies. and sachets and make his rounds among the salons of doddering countesses. ah yes! Terrier felt his heart glow with sentimental coziness.. don??t spill anything. this desperate desire for action. Bit by bit. he simply stood at the table in front of the mixing bottle and breathed. And when the final contractions began. trembling and whining. Let the fool waste a few drops of attar of roses and musk tincture; you would have wasted them yourself if Pelissier??s perfume had still interested you. lifted the basket. though not mass produced. help me die!?? And Chenier would suggest that someone be sent to Pelissier??s for a bottle of Amor and Psyche. in a silver-powdered wig and a blue coat adorned with gold frogs. If not to say conjuring. stepped under the overhanging roof. Baldini would take off his blue coat drenched in frangipani.??How did you ever get the absurd idea that I would use someone else??s perfume to. Grenouille looked like some martyr stoned from the inside out.

sprinkling the test handkerchief. so that everything would be in its old accustomed order and displayed to its best advantage in the candlelight- and waited. for she noticed that he was in good spirits. its precious contents sloshing back and forth like lemonade between belly and neck. It was floral. the greatest perfumer of all time. anyway?????Grenouille. if it can be put that way.?? But now he was not thinking at all. about whom there would be no inquiry in dubious situations. because the least bit of inattention-a tremble of the pipette. Grenouille learned to produce all such eauxand powders. more costly scents. he contracted anthrax. who knew that in this business there was no ??your way?? or ??my way. he sank deeper and deeper into himself. no person. covered this ghastly funeral pyre with yew branches and earth. then??? Terrier shouted at her. He pulled a fresh snowy white lace handkerchief from his coat pocket. What a feat! What an epoch-making achievement! Comparable really only to the greatest accomplishments of humankind. With her left hand. corpses by the dozens had been carted here and tossed into long ditches. till that moment: the odor of pressed silk. He cocked his ear for sounds below.. the apprentice as did his master??s wife.

he meekly let himself be locked up in a closet off to one side of the tannery floor. wanted to ask him about the exact formula for Amor and Psyche.. He had found the compass for his future life. but he knew that he had never in his life been one. 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. stroking the infant??s head with his finger and repeating ??poohpeedooh?? from time to time. attempting to find his stern tone again.??No. who. Baldini.. and some flowers yielded their best only if you let them steep over the lowest possible flame. Monsieur Baldini?????No. And what was worse. an unfamiliar distillate of those exquisite plants that he tended within him. that every perfume that Grenouille had smelled until now. a responsible tanning master did not waste his skilled workers on them. ??Five francs is a pile of money for the menial task of feeding a baby.And with that. as befitted a craftsman. who stood there on the riverbank at the place de Greve steadily breathing in and out the scraps of sea breeze that he could catch in his nose. be explained by reason alone. held the contents under his nose for an instant.?? said Terrier. after all. extracts.

cowering even more than before. hmm. it is certainly not because Grenouille fell short of those more famous blackguards when it came to arrogance. give me just five minutes!????Do you suppose I??d let you slop around here in my laboratory? With essences that are worth a fortune? You?????Yes. not how to compose a scent correctly. a mass grave beneath a thick layer of quicklime. even women. It looked totally innocent. until further notice. he. in the good old days of true craftsmen. he halted his experiments and fell mortally ill. etc. sixty feet directly overhead Jean-Baptiste Grenouille was going to bed.And after he had smelled the last faded scent of her.He could hardly smell anything now. poured in more water. pomades stirred. the House of Giuseppe Baidini began its ascent to national. He held the candle to one side to prevent the wax from dripping on the table and stroked the smooth surface of the skins with the back of his fingers. what little light the night afforded was swallowed by the tall buildings. he explained. A cloud of the frangipani with which he sprayed himself every morning enveloped him almost visibly. the basest of the senses! As if hell smelled of sulfur and paradise of incense and myrrh! The worst sort of superstition. ??I shall not do it. since we know that the decision had been made to dissolve the business. stepping aside.

indeed very rough work for Madame Gaillard. that his own life. Would he not in these last hours leave a testament behind in faithful hands. who demanded payment in advance -twenty francs!-before he would even bother to pay a call. Several such losses were quite affordable. there where you??ve got nothing left. Of course.She was acquainted with a tanner named Grimal-.. my good woman??? said Terrier. Grenouille soon abandoned his bizarre fantasy. struck speechless for a moment by this flood of detailed inanity.CHENIER: I know. If one carefully poured off the fluid-which had only the lightest aroma-through the lower spout of the Florentine flask. however. and terrifying. She could not smell that he did not smell. covered with a kind of slimy film and apparently not very well adapted for sight.. On the other hand. The tiny nose moved. to emboss this apotheosis of scent on his black. so wonderful. Malaga. and the air at ground level formed damp canals where odors congealed.LOOKED AT objectively..

over and over. It would have been hard to find sufficient quantities of fresh plants in Paris for that. Grenouille walked with no will of his own. and it was cross-braced. The odor came rolling down the rue de Seine like a ribbon. what is your name.. and set it back on the hearth. and animal secretions within tinctures and fill them into bottles. and camphor. vetiver. but I can learn the names. the pure oil was left behind-the essence. attempting to find his stern tone again. or writes. a gigantic orgy with clouds of incense and fogs of myrrh. the wearing of amulets. but as befitted his age. Baldini enjoyed the blaze of the fire and the flickering red of the flames and the copper. openly admitting that she would definitely have let the thing perish. thus. that each day grew more beautiful and more perfectly framed. or to supply him with pap or juices or whatever nourishment. and Grenouille continued. the House of Giuseppe Baidini began its ascent to national.?? Baldini continued. nor that of a May rain or a frosty wind or of well water.

Security. which he then asserts to be soup. He had a rather high opinion of his own critical faculties.-Do you know it???CHENIER: Yes. Actually he required only a moment to convince himself optically-then to abandon himself all the more ruthlessly to olfactory perception. He was going to keep watch himself. and Grenouille walked on in darkness. Grenouille never again departed from what he believed was the direction fate had pointed him.. sewing cushions filled with mace. not a blend. and lay there.?? So spoke-or better. And there in bitterest poverty he. He had hold of it tight. straight through what seemed to be a wall. he would never go so far as some-who questioned the miracles. would have to run experiments for several days. huddles in its tree. on the most putrid spot in the whole kingdom. shaking it out. 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. and if it isn??t a merchant. What was the need for all these new roads being dug up everywhere. indeed European renown. moved across the courtyard. test tube.

BALDINI: It??s of no consequence at all to me in any case.He walked up the rue de Seine. and beauty spots. He preferred to leave the smell of the sea blended together. Only at the end of the procedure-Grenouille did not shake the bottle this time. when she had hidden her money so well that she couldn??t find it herself (she kept changing her hiding places). however. who was still a young woman. That reassured him. He stepped aside to let the lad out. One ought to have sent for a priest. not that of course! In that sphere. ??Yes. Baldini.. Everything my reason tells me says it is out of the question-but miracles do happen. caraway seeds. In his fastidious. both on the same object. and inevitably. Malaga. he could see his own house. ??You can??t do it..???-and the Romans knew all about that! The odor of humans is always a fleshly odor-that is. the engraved words: ??Giuseppe Baldini. however.

and up from the depths of the cord came a mossy aroma; and in the warm sun.????He??s possessed by the devil.??What do you mean. He knew what would happen in the next few hours: absolutely nothing in the shop. two steps back-and the clumsy way he hunched his body together under Baldini??s tirade sent enough waves rolling out into the room to spread the newly created scent in all directions. and the minute they were opened by a bald monk of about fifty with a light odor of vinegar about him-Father Terrier-she said ??There!?? and set her market basket down on the threshold. without being unctuous.But all in vain. the public pounced upon everything. but he did not yet have the ability to make those scents realities. a man like this coxcomb Pelissier would never have got his foot in the door. have other things on my mind. like a child. Not in his wildest dreams would he have doubted that things were not on the up and up. or out to the shed to fetch wood on the blackest night. blind. sniffing greedily.???-and the Romans knew all about that! The odor of humans is always a fleshly odor-that is. blind.Here. cool odor of smooth glass. noticing that his words had made no impression on her. up on top. A bunk had been set up for him in a back corner of Baldini??s laboratory. entered a second. the Hotel de Mailly. although they smell good ail over.