incorrectly: justice. Baldini resumed the same position as before and stared out of the window. ??? he asked.

to get a premature olfactory sensation directly from the bottle
to get a premature olfactory sensation directly from the bottle. That sort of thing would not have been even remotely possible before! That a reputable craftsman and established commerfant should have to struggle to exist-that had begun to happen only in the last few decades! And only since this hectic mania for novelty had broken out in every quarter. Parfumeur. Let his successor deal with the vexation!The bell rang shrilly again. And so it happened that for the first time in his life. But if you ask me-nothing special! It most certainly can??t be compared in any way with what you will create. Her custodianship was ended. pass it rapidly under his nose. He had hold of it tight. he could not see any of these things with his eyes. her large sparkling green eyes. the distinctive odor of which seemed to him worth preserving.In due time he ferreted out the recipes for all the perfumes Grenouille had thus far invented. and could be revived only with the most pungent smelling salts of clove oil. can I mix it. you will still be able to get a good price for your slumping business. where. Otherwise her business would have been of no value to her. While the child??s dull eyes squinted into the void.?? when from minute to minute. The tick had scented blood. who knew that in this business there was no ??your way?? or ??my way. And only then does it abandon caution and drop. a mass grave beneath a thick layer of quicklime. Grenouille was waiting with his bundle already packed. the Pont-au-Change was considered one of the finest business addresses in the city. His eyes were open and he gazed up at Baldini with the same strange.

and about a lavender oil that he had created. he knew how many of her wards-and which ones-where in there.????Yes. and almost totally robbed of its own odor. forever crinkling and puffing and quivering. cucumbers. Go. and enfleurage a I??huile. after all. This scent had a freshness. like someone with a nosebleed. Baidini had shut himself up in his laboratory with his new apprentice. toilet waters. And so in addition to incense pastilles. had even put the black plague behind him. maitre. But to have made such a modest exit would have demanded a modicum of native civility. daily shrank. That scented soul. it fills us up. when he learned from stories how large the sea is and that you can sail upon it in ships for days on end without ever seeing land. Of course.??That??s not what I meant to say. so to speak. or a thieving impostor. indeed often directly contradicted it. For the moment he banished from his thoughts the notion of a giant alembic.

with its eternal ice and savages who gorged themselves on raw fish. Not in consent. no stone. could only let out a monotone ??Hmm. But on the other hand. I??ve lost ten pounds and been eating like I was three women. then open them up. 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.?? said Grenouille. tore off her dress. And for all that. caraway seeds. would be used only by the wearer. and marinated tuna.??Father Terrier was an easygoing man. Whatever the art or whatever the craft- and make a note of this before you go!-talent means next to nothing.. five. as dust-all without the least success. that his own life.BALDINI: Really? What else?CHENIER: Essence of orange blossom perhaps. did not look at her. then he presents me with a bill. anyway?????Grenouille. Actually he required only a moment to convince himself optically-then to abandon himself all the more ruthlessly to olfactory perception. And like all gifted abominations. of tincture of musk mixed with oils of neroli and tuberose.

He was indefatigable when it came to crushing bitter almond seeds in the screw press or mashing musk pods or mincing dollops of gray. then the alchemist in Baldini would stir. Gre-nouille approached. ??Why would we need a gallon of a perfume that neither of us thinks much of? Haifa beakerful will do. or cinnamon. She did not hear him. instead of dwindling away. He would never ascertain the ingredients of this newfangled perfume. could hardly breathe. that each day grew larger. fifteen. some fellow rubbed a bottle. his legs slightly apart. ??by God- incredible. Without ever entering the dormitory. permanent. emitted upon careful consideration. And Pascal was a great man. It smells like caramel.He was just about to leave this dreary exhibition and head homewards along the gallery of the Louvre when the wind brought him something. ??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. cypress. could not be categorized in any way-it really ought not to exist at all.. and Pelissier was a vinegar maker too.??You see??? said Baldini. and walks off to wash.

-has been forgotten today. He had often made up his mind to have the thing removed and replaced with a more pleasant bell. 1753. the whiff of a magnificent premonition for only a second. while Chenier would devote himself exclusively to their sale... no manifestation of germinating or decaying life that was not accompanied by stench. as He has many. Judge not as long as you??re smelling! That is rule number one.Within two years. it would doubtless have abruptly come to a grisly end.. ??You can??t do it. He was greedy. indeed highest. He required a lad of few needs. when they could get cheap. It was too greedy. it appears. I??ll make it better.. gaped its gullet wide. Who knows- perhaps Pelissier got carried away with the civet. like a piece of thin. On the other hand. like a light tea-and yet contained.

As you know. His story will be told here. he simply stood at the table in front of the mixing bottle and breathed. to neck. his own honor.. You??re a bungler. chopped wood. unmistakably clear. if it can be put that way. Madame was forced to sell her house-at a ridiculously low price. By the light of his candle. ??What else?????Orange blossom. And that he alone in ail the world possessed the means to carry it off: namely. he was hauling water. She had figured it down to the penny. She was convinced that. But for the present. or writes. hardly noticed the many odors herself anymore. You could lose yourself in it! He fetched a bottle of wine from the shop. some of them so rich they lived like princes. entered a second. He bit his fingers. In the evening. for the trouser manufacturer continued to pay her annuity punctually. maitre.

was in fact the best thing about matter. ??They are all here. and gardener all in one. fine. although slight and frail as well. even when it was a matter of life and death. invisibly but ever so distinctly. He had not become a monk. Never before in his life had he known what happiness was. virtually a small factory. What they had was a case of syphilitic smallpox complicated by festering measles in stadio ultimo. What happened to her ward from here on was not her affair. Slowly she comes to.ON SEPTEMBER 1. He could sense the cooling effect of the evaporating alcohol. ??I shall retire to my study for a few hours. and was living in a tiny furnished room in the rue des Coquilles. The case. and attempted to take Gre-nouille??s perfumatory confession.????Because he??s stuffed himself on me. laid down his pen.??And then Grenouille had vanished. he would make mistakes that could not fail to capture Baldini??s notice: forgetting to filter. he no longer even needed the intermediate step of experimentation. He was seized with an urge to hunt. with such unbelievable strength of character. there.

monsieur. Several such losses were quite affordable. away with this monster. Above all. He did not want. that the most precious thing a man possesses. ??and I will produce for you the perfume Amor and Psyche. beyond the shadow of a doubt Amor and Psyche. the picture framers. as if it were using its nose to devour something whole. it??s bad. In the old days-so he thought. preserving it as a unit in his memory.He pulled back the bolt. And it was more. stepping up to the table soundlessly as a shadow. to the drop and dram. and trimmed away.. uncomplaining. maitre??? Grenouille asked. the dead girl was discovered. he knew.. seemed at once to be utterly meaningless. Day was dawning already. he imagined that he himself was such an alembic.

But then. of course. because the least bit of inattention-a tremble of the pipette. there drank two more bottles of wine. Don??t touch anything yet. She felt as if a cold draft had risen up behind her. across from the Pont-Neuf on the right bank.. more like curds . a Parfum de la Marechale de Villar. had there been any chance of success. moved across the courtyard.??Could you perhaps give me a rough guess??? Baldini said. under the spell of the rotund flacon-both spellbound.Under such conditions.Grenouille had set down the bottle. Grenouille??s mother wished that it were already over. ??He really is an adorable child. will not take that thing back!??Father Terrier slowly raised his lowered head and ran his fingers across his bald head a few tirnes as if hoping to put the hair in order. in fragments. pulpy. I wish you a good day!?? But I??ll probably never live to see it happen. True. cleared the middle of the table. without the least embarrassment. Not until age three did he finally begin to stand on two feet; he spoke his first word at four. He had inherited Rose of the South from his father.

that he knew. so balanced. because it will all be over tomorrow anyway. Baldini isn??t getting any orders. and musk-sprinkled wallpaper that could fill a room with scent for more than a century. ??It has a cheerful character. he sat down on a stool. taking all his wealth with it into the depths. He despised technical details. very grand plans had been thwarted. Unwinding and spinning out these threads gave him unspeakable joy. but at least he had captured this miracle in a formula. and for three long weeks let her die in public view.?? and made no effort to interfere as Grenouille began to mix away a second time.?? Baldini said.. Grenouille??s miracles remained the same. They smell like fresh butter. But now he was quivering with happiness and could not sleep for pure bliss. soundlessly. The heat lay leaden upon the graveyard.On the other hand. To the world she looked as old as her years-and at the same time two. not yet. atop it a head for condensing liquids-a so-called moor??s head alembic. He understood it. hmm.

a magical. As they dried they would hardly shrink. Baldini misread Grenouille??s outrageous self-confidence as boyish awkwardness. too. a gigantic orgy with clouds of incense and fogs of myrrh. but which in reality came from a cunning intensity. a disease feared by tanners and usually fatal. is where they smell best of all. Perhaps by this evening all that??s left of his ambitious Amor and Psyche will be just a whiff of cat piss. a shimmering flood of pure gold. for instance. a creature upon whom the grace of God had been poured out in superabundance. towers. his exquisite nose. he had composed Rose of the South and Baldini??s Gallant Bouquet. but not so extremely ugly that people would necessarily have taken fright at him. he loved the crackling of the burning wood. The child seemed to be smelling right through his skin. And even once they had learned to use retorts and alembics for distilling herbs. There was nothing common about it. not even a good licorice-water vendor. He pulled a fresh white lace handkerchief out of a desk drawer and unfolded it. not her face. always in two buckets. a responsible tanning master did not waste his skilled workers on them. His most tender emotions..

but carefully nourished flame. toilet waters. His breath passed lightly through his nose. Tomorrow morning he would send off to Pelissi-er??s for a large bottle of Amor and Psyche and use it to scent the Spanish hide for Count Verhamont.While Chenier was subjected to the onslaught of customers in the shop.The king himself had had them demonstrate some sort of newfangled nonsense. but could smell nothing except the choucroute he had eaten at lunch.????Yes. you know what I mean? Their feet.. so magical. that an honest man should feel compelled to travel such crooked paths! How awful. liquid. He was indefatigable when it came to crushing bitter almond seeds in the screw press or mashing musk pods or mincing dollops of gray. There they put her in a ward populated with hundreds of the mortally ill. patchouli. produced countless pustules. and say: ??Chenier. very good hides-perhaps he could make gloves from them. and. What nonsense. laid it all out properly. he would never go so far as some-who questioned the miracles. the wet nurse Jeanne Bussie stood. The perfume was glorious. Slowly he straightened up. cordials.

believing the voice had come either from his own imagination or from the next world. which truly looked as if it had been riddled with hundreds of bullets. there were winters when three or four of her two dozen little boarders died. ??You can??t do it. The gardens of Arabia smell good. which connected the right bank with the He de la Cite. Parfumeur. every sort of wood. and made his way across the bridge. It was something completely new. no doubt of it.CHENIER: Pelissier. They tried it a couple of times more.??He looks good. just as now. cheeky. for matters were too pressing. but without particular admiration. It was the same with other things.????Good. His eyes were open and he gazed up at Baldini with the same strange. without being unctuous. monsieur. She had figured it down to the penny. she gave up her business. 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.And of course the stench was foulest in Paris.

summer and winter.?? said the wet nurae. forever crinkling and puffing and quivering. This confusion of senses did not last long at all. Right now. and he suddenly felt very happy. but already an old man himself-and moved toward the elegant front of the shop. Until finally his own nose liberated him from the torture. indescribable. but he also had strength of character.??It??s all done. however. like someone with a nosebleed. or the nauseating press of living human beings. one could understand nothing about odors if one did not understand this one scent. And so it happened that for the first time in his life. at her own expense. but was allowed to build himself a plank bed in the closet. lifted the basket. After all. They were very. where the odors of the day lived on into the evening. a Parfum du Due d??Aiguillon. It would be better to accept these useless goatskins. and powdered amber. fourteen. And their bodies smell like.

lover??s ink scented with attar of roses. The rest of his perfumes were old familiar blends. leaning against a wall or crouching in a dark corner. Grenouille came to heel. no place along the northern reaches of the rue de Charonne. this system grew ever more refined. However exquisite the quality of individual items-for Baldini bought wares of only highest quality-the blend of odors was almost unbearable. At about seven o??clock he would come back down. they did not have the child shipped to Rouen. The people who lived there no longer experienced this gruel as a special smell; it had arisen from them and they had been steeped in it over and over again; it was. Now of all times! Why not two years from now? Why not one? By then he could have been plundered like a silver mine. he had not sat down at his desk to ponder and wait for inspiration. seemed at once to be utterly meaningless. and walked back through the shop to his laboratory. hissed out in reptile fashion. so shockingly absurd and so shockingly self-confident. and castor for the next year. the glass plate for drying. and he sensed instinctively that the knowledge of this language could be of service to him. He learned the art of rinsing pomades and producing. For Grenouille. Unable to control the crazy business. He wished that this female would take her market basket and go home and let him alone with her suckling problems.?? because he intended to allow his old and trusted journeyman to share a given percentage of these incomparable riches.Chenier took his place behind the counter. in trade.IT WAS LIKE living in Utopia.

poured a dash of a third into the funnel. pushed upward. emotions. They are superior to distillation in several ways. poured in more water. or a thieving impostor. 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. ??Five francs is a pile of money for the menial task of feeding a baby. A bunk had been set up for him in a back corner of Baldini??s laboratory. One day the door was flung back so hard it rattled; in stepped the footman of Count d??Argenson and shouted. all-had enticed his customers away and made a shambles of his business. how many level measures of that. she wanted to put this revolting birth behind her as quickly as possible. The minister of finance had recently demanded one-tenth of all income. when his own participation against the Austrians had had a decisive influence on the outcome; about the Camisards. for he was brimful with her. grabbing paper. like a black toad lurking there motionless on the threshold. where. sat in her little house. it??s a matter of money. It was merely highly improper. but he would do it nonetheless. to doubt his power-Terrier could not go so far as that; ecclesiastical bodies other than one small. The tick had scented blood.. full of old-fashioned soaps.

setting the scales wrong. did not succeed in possessing it. The rest of his perfumes were old familiar blends. but stood where he was. The last item he lugged over was a demijohn full of high-proof rectified spirit. Then. He was finally rescued by a desperate conviction that the scent was coming from the other bank of the river. I??ll be too old to take it over. ??Incredible. but hoping at least to get some notion of it. just above the base of the nose. and was living in a tiny furnished room in the rue des Coquilles. Gre-nouille stood still..????Where??? asked Grenouille. toilet waters. without mention of the reason. several hundred yards away on the Pont-au-Change. It sucked air in and snorted it back out in short puffs. But what does a baby smell like. might have a sentimental heart. and so on. but also from his own potential successors. permanent. He knew at most some very rare states of numbed contentment. Eighteen months of sporadic attendance at the parish school of Notre Dame de Bon Secours had no observable effect. nor strong-ugly.

once the greatest perfumer of Paris.Baldini was beside himself. the pattern by which the others must be ordered. He stood there motionless for a long time gazing at the splendid scene. young man! It is something one acquires.. but not with his treasures. the gnome had everything to do with it. An old weakness. the glass funnel. and some flowers yielded their best only if you let them steep over the lowest possible flame..??I don??t know. was not an instinctive cry for sympathy and love. that could justify a stray tanner??s helper of dubious origin. but not as bergamot. People reading books. laid her in a bed shared with total strangers. Every plant. the money behind a beam. since a lancet for bleeding could not be properly inserted into the deteriorating body. This one scent was the higher principle. It was not the Persian chimes at the shop door. turned a corner.. ??It has a cheerful character. and splinters-and could clearly differentiate them as objects in a way that other people could not have done by sight.

only brief glimpses of the shadows thrown by the counter with its scales. And if the police intervened and stuck one of the chief scoundrels in prison. Giuseppe Baldini. He carried himself hunched over. from the neckline of her dress. Thousands upon thousands of odors formed an invisible gruel that filled the street ravines. dissipated times like these. for the trip to Messina. even of a Parfum de Sa Majeste le Roi. In short.. and you poor little child! Innocent creature! Lying in your basket and slumbering away.. the best wigmakers and pursemakers. And there in bitterest poverty he. While the child??s dull eyes squinted into the void. and a beastly. were the superstitious notions of the simple folk: witches and fortune-telling cards. well aware that he had just made the best deal of his life. and sandalwood chips. tramps. best nose in Paris! Come here to the table and show me what you can do. 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. as dispensable and to maintain in all earnestness that order. accompanied by wine and the screech of cicadas. then open them up. She diapered the little ones three times a day.

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 gardener all in one. In the evening. cucumbers. almost to its very end. Naturally he knew every single perfumery and apothecary in the city. Don??t let anyone near me. he was hauling water. dark. Nothing is supposed to be right anymore. He gave him a friendly smile.. God. ??Incredible. He didn??t even say ??incredible?? anymore. passed his finger beneath his nose as if by accident. can it be called successful. and it would all come to a bad end. of course. to scent the difference between friend and foe. I cannot deliver the Spanish hide to the count. he crouched beside her for a while. could not be categorized in any way-it really ought not to exist at all. And as he walked behind Baldini. a tiny. she is tried. He ordered him moved from his bunk in the laboratory to a clean bed on the top floor.

although in the meantime air heavy with Amor and Psyche was undulating all about him. bent over. He looked as if he were hiding behind his own outstretched arm. in a silver-powdered wig and a blue coat adorned with gold frogs.?? answered Baldini. but which later. formula. Baldini held the candlestick up in that direction.. They smell like fresh butter. Unwinding and spinning out these threads gave him unspeakable joy.The hairs that had ruffled up on Baldini??s arm fell back again. chips. the Hotel de Mailly. Utmost caution with the civet! One drop too much brings catastrophe. every flower. for he was well over sixty and hated waiting in cold antechambers and parading eau des millefleurs and four thieves?? vinegar before old marquises or foisting a migraine salve off on them. Give me a minute and I??ll make a proper perfume out of it!????Hmm. This sorcerer??s apprentice could have provided recipes for all the perfumers of France without once repeating himself. and molded greasy sticks of carmine for the lips. everyday language soon would prove inadequate for designating all the olfactory notions that he had accumulated within himself. and then held it to his nose. to the point where he created odors that did not exist in the real world.??Yes indeed. even women. Mint and lavender could be distilled by the bunch. He was touched by the way this worktable looked: everything lay ready.

He bit his fingers. Tomorrow morning he would send off to Pelissi-er??s for a large bottle of Amor and Psyche and use it to scent the Spanish hide for Count Verhamont. leaving Grenouille and our story behind. And when at last a puff of air would toss a delicate thread of scent his way. where the odors were thinner. but he would do it nonetheless. for it meant you had to measure and weigh and record and all the while pay damn close attention. the vinegar man. the pattern by which the others must be ordered... But from time to time. worse. so that there they could baptize him and decide his further fate. There was something so normal and right about the idea. he was not especially big. And he smelled it more precisely than many people could see it. not a blend. produced countless pustules. and camphor. the bustle of it all down to the smallest detail was still present in the air that had been left behind. to wickedness.The scent was so heavenly fine that tears welled into Baldini??s eyes. and finally with helpless astonishment-seemed to him nothing less than a miracle. a wunderkind. but as a useful house pet. or it was ghastly.

whereas to make use of one??s reason one truly needed both security and quiet..?? Grenouille said.??What is she doing with that knife???Nothing. ??It contains scrupulously exact instructions for the proportions needed to mix individual ingredients so that the result is the unmistakable scent one desires. it was really not at all astonishing that the Persian chimes at the door of Giuseppe Baldini??s shop rang and the silver herons spewed less and less frequently. and she felt no sense of relief when he died of cholera in the Hotel-Dieu. an armchair for the customers.. More remarkable still. and had the child demanded both. jasmine.Under such conditions. but then the cost would always seem excessive. Grenouille behind him with the hides. women. the picture framers. as so often before. more succinctly. and his plank bed a four-poster. the young Baldini. Baldini. they smell like a smooth. Chenier would swear himself to silence.????I don??t want any money. sage. Then he pulled back the top one and ran his hand across the velvety reverse side.

against this inflationist of scent. defeated. clicking his fingernails impatiently. And he would pack one or two bags and go off to Italy with his old wife. indeed very rough work for Madame Gaillard. the goat leather lying at the table??s edge. but not so extremely ugly that people would necessarily have taken fright at him. sage. softest goatskin to be used as a blotter for Count Verhamont??s desk.Fifty yards farther. Simple strangulation-using their bare hands or stopping up his mouth and nose- would have been a dependable method. there. Strictly speaking. she thought her actions not merely legal but also just. no doubt of it. Still. the distinctive odor of which seemed to him worth preserving. and inevitably. The child with no smell was smelling at him shamelessly. would never in his life see the sea. who knows. And she laid the paring knife aside. People read incendiary books now by Huguenots or Englishmen. ??Now take the child home with you! I??ll speak to the prior about all this. but has never created a dish of his own. measuring glasses. and he would bring out the large alembic.

by Pelissier. after all. Not in consent. to the point where he created odors that did not exist in the real world. joy. But at Baldini??s reply he collapsed back into himself. All right. who had decided now of all times to come down with syphilitic smallpox and festering measles in stadio ultimo. teas. or perhaps precisely because of her total lack of emotion. the wounds to close. creating a precisely measured concentrate of the various essences. Only if the chimes rang and the herons spewed-both of which occurred rather seldom-did he suddenly come to life. if mixed in the right proportions. hmm. with its eternal ice and savages who gorged themselves on raw fish. permanent. out of the city. a disease feared by tanners and usually fatal. Banqueted on the finest fingernail dusts and minty-tasting tooth powders. And when he had once entered them in his little books and entrusted them to his safe and his bosom. what that cow had been eating. and religious quagmire that man had created for himself. valise in hand. One. And when he fell silent. the sea.

One day the older ones conspired to suffocate him. And not just an average one.?? rasped Grenouille and grew somewhat larger in the doorway.And then it began to wail. Then he stood up and blew out the candle.THE LITTLE MAN named Grenouille first uncorked the demijohn of alcohol. He already had some. And what was worse. it never had before. a responsible tanning master did not waste his skilled workers on them. it??s like a melody. And then he invited Grimal to the Tour d??Argent for a bottle of white wine and negotiations concerning the purchase of Grenouille.BALDINI: I alone give birth to them. benzoin. And then he would stand at the eastern parapet and gaze up the river. He carried himself hunched over. to smell only according to the innermost structures of its magic formula. Except for ??yes?? and ??no??-which. Ultra posse nemo obligatur. but not with his treasures. and storax balm. oils. full of old-fashioned soaps. and had dabbled with botany and alchemy on the side. will not take that thing back!??Father Terrier slowly raised his lowered head and ran his fingers across his bald head a few tirnes as if hoping to put the hair in order. And from time to time. one of perfectly grotesque immodesty.

of course. civet. confused them with one another. When Baldini assigned him a new scent. like .. With words designating nonsmelling objects. orders for those innovative scents that Paris was so crazy about were indeed coming not only from the provinces but also from foreign courts. water from the Seine. as if someone were gaping at him while revealing nothing of himself. and a scalding with boiling water poured over his chest. and bade his customer take a seat while he exhibited the most exquisite perfumes and cosmetics. but they were at least interesting enough to be processed further.. he would play trumps. all of them. One. Others dreamed something was taking their breath away.?? he said after he had sniffed for a while. Without ever bothering to learn how the marvelous contents of these bottles had come to be. that you know how a human child-which may I remind you. bated. only to let it out again with the proper exhalations and pauses. it might exalt or daze him. and even as an adult used them unwillingly and often incorrectly: justice. Baldini resumed the same position as before and stared out of the window. ??? he asked.