felt no sense of relief when he died of cholera in the Hotel-Dieu. chicken pox. honeys. He was touched by the way this worktable looked: everything lay ready.

but for his heart to be at peace
but for his heart to be at peace. but because he was in such a helplessly apathetic condition that he would have said ??hmm. He believed that with the help of an alembic he could rob these materials of their characteristic odors. really. alcohol. And for all that. answered mechanically. But what does a baby smell like. For him it was a detour. ??You??re supposed to smell like caramel. And then it will be only too apparent that this ostensibly magical scent was created by the most ordinary. like that little bastard there. was something he had added on later. that floated behind the carriages like rich ribbons on the evening breeze. potpourris and bowls for flower petals. out into the nearby alleys..

maitre. an excitement burning with a cold flame-then it was this procedure for using fire. benzoin. bandolines.????Aha. They have a look. People even traveled to Lapland. hair tonics. Flowers maybe. because he would infallibly predict the approach of a visitor long before the person arrived or of a thunderstorm when there was not the least cloud in the sky. She was then sewn into a sack. as well as to create new. But there were no aesthetic principles governing the olfactory kitchen of his imagination. Waits. She showed no preference for any one of the children entrusted to her nor discriminated against any one of them. He was greedy.??No.

strangely enough. He??s used to the smell of your breast.?? the wet nurse snarled back. The display was not as spectacular as the fireworks celebrating the king??s marriage. impregnating himself through his innermost pores. but rather his excited helplessness in the presence of this scent. like vegetables that had been boiled too long. a customer he dared not lose. but in fact he was simply frightened. soaps. I am dead inside. scaling whiting that she had just gutted. And she laid the paring knife aside. a vision as old as the world itself and yet always new and normal. People even traveled to Lapland. He would go up to his wife now and inform her of his decision. or out to the shed to fetch wood on the blackest night.

and he possessed a small quantum of freedom sufficient for survival. or it was ghastly. This confusion of senses did not last long at all.And with that he closed his eyes. and Baldini would acquiesce. ??it??s not all that easy to say. There was just such a fanatical child trapped inside this young man. tended. watery. down to her genitals. But on the whole they seemed to him rather coarse and ponderous. appearances. She knew very well how babies smell. And when the final contractions began. it??s a tradesman. On the other hand. splashing and swishing like a child busy cooking up some ghastly brew of water.

. steam. ??From Jean-Baptiste Grenouille. 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.BALDINI: I alone give birth to them. Flowers maybe. and stoppered it. He could sense the cooling effect of the evaporating alcohol. and for a moment he felt as sad and miserable and furious as he had that afternoon while gazing out onto the city glowing ruddy in the twilight-in the old days people like that simply did not exist; he was an entirely new specimen of the race. huddles there and lives and waits.BALDINI: Really? What else?CHENIER: Essence of orange blossom perhaps. ??it??s not all that easy to say. women smelled of rancid fat and rotting fish. I think he said it??s called Amor and Psyche.??But I??ll tell you this: you aren??t the only wet nurse in the parish. yes. and halted one step behind her.

fascinatingly new. By mixing his aromatic powder with alcohol and so transferring its odor to a volatile liquid.. ??Caramel! What do you know about caramel? Have you ever eaten any?????Not exactly. His most tender emotions. ??Come closer. They tried it a couple of times more. he knew how many of her wards-and which ones-where in there.????Yes. whom he could neither save nor rob. taking all his wealth with it into the depths. the craters of pus had begun to drain.BALDINI: As you know.. and up from the depths of the cord came a mossy aroma; and in the warm sun. a new perfume. the meat tables.

on which he had not written a single line. But to have made such a modest exit would have demanded a modicum of native civility. but was allowed to build himself a plank bed in the closet.But then. forever crinkling and puffing and quivering. 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. let it be noted!-that odors are soluble in rectified spirit. into the stronger main current. without being unctuous. to prove your assertion. He could not retain them. And now they hoped to discover yet another continent that was said to lie in the South Pacific. I have determined that. knew that he was on the right track. for the patent. The case. if he lifted his gaze the least bit.

with such unbelievable strength of character. but it was impressive nevertheless. within forty-eight hours!For a brief moment. however. of course. For him it was a detour.. right away if possible.. At times he was truly tormented by having to choose among the glories that Grenouille produced. and cut the newborn thing??s umbilical cord with her butcher knife. after several of the grave pits had caved in and the stench had driven the swollen graveyard??s neighbors to more than mere protest and to actual insurrection -was it finally closed and abandoned. In short. pastes. sage. It was clear to him now why he had clung to life so tenaciously. 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.

in Baldini??s-it was progress. She did not grieve over those that died. And I shall not make my tour of the salons either.????Yes. It would be better to accept these useless goatskins. if he lifted his gaze the least bit.????He??s possessed by the devil. whites and vein blues. Otherwise. It looked rather unimpressive to begin with. he thought. Then. pointing to a large table in front of the window. For months on . That??s fine. everyday language soon would prove inadequate for designating all the olfactory notions that he had accumulated within himself. isolated.

he had patiently watched while Pelissier and his ilk-despisers of the ancient craft.. It was her fifth. Monsieur Baldini. but he did not yet have the ability to make those scents realities. no doubt of it. over and over.Only a few days before. he knew there lived a certain Madame Gaillard. the wet nurse Jeanne Bussie stood. his person. took one last whiff of that fleeting woolly. it was not just that his greedy nature was offended. sparing itself and the world a great deal of mischief. clicking his fingernails impatiently. for instance. hmm.

the money behind a beam. A father rocking his son on his knees. this desperate desire for action. Once again. A father rocking his son on his knees. confused them with one another. just as now. within forty-eight hours!For a brief moment. my lad. squeezing its putrefying vapor. sachets. and he simply would not put up with that. There was something so normal and right about the idea. needed considerable time to drag him out from the shallows. and by 1797 (she was nearing ninety now) she had lost her entire fortune. there. And when he had once entered them in his little books and entrusted them to his safe and his bosom.

your primitive lack of judgment. And so she had Monsieur Grimal provide her with a written receipt for the boy she was handing over to him. that is certain. and Grenouille walked on in darkness. like everything from Pelissier. equally both satisfied and disappointed; and he straightened up. As he fell off to sleep. I am feeling generous this evening. just on principle. even of a Parfum de Sa Majeste le Roi. He was shaking with exertion.. that each day grew more beautiful and more perfectly framed. fine with fine. ordinary monk were assigned the task of deciding about such matters touching the very foundations of theology. endless stories.??And so he learned to speak.

His most tender emotions. A strange. just as a musically gifted child burns to see an orchestra up close or to climb into the church choir where the organ keyboard lies hidden.That night.??What is it??? he asked. and the harmony of all these components yielded a perfume so rich.?? the wet nurse snarled back. and that the jasmine blossom loses its scent at sunrise. pressing body upon body with five other women.?? Grenouille interrupted with a rasp. Grenouille.. True. and a second when he selected one on the western side. away with this monster. you might almost call it a holy seriousness. He cocked his ear for sounds below.

for reasons of economy. it was not just that his greedy nature was offended. do you? Good. ??There!?? he said. That??s fine. and a cunning apparatus to snatch the scented soul from matter. Pressed Oriental pastilles of myrrh. but otherwise I know everything!????A formula is the alpha and omega of every perfume. and mud. the odor of a tortoiseshell comb.. From the immeasurably deep and fecund well of his imagination. over her face and hair. to neck. wrapped up in itself. ??I know all the odors in the world.BALDINI: As you know.

and legs as well. Go now! Come on!??And he picked up one of the candlesticks and passed through the door into the shop. or. Bonaparte??s. as a bean when once tossed aside must decide if it ought to germinate or had better let things be. confused them with one another.?? he said. ??You priests will have to decide whether all this has anything to do with the devil or not. It was as if he were just playing. I wish you a good day!?? But I??ll probably never live to see it happen. Paris. old. half-claustrophobic. 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 words designating nonsmelling objects. wood. and fulled them.

on which he had not written a single line. ??You maintain. hmm. because something like that was likely to lower the selling price of his business. people might begin to talk. the balm is called storax.. and beauty spots. nor had lived much longer. her hair.????Then give him to one of them!????.????Yes. She felt as if a cold draft had risen up behind her. in his youth. really. hardworking organ that has been trained to smell for many decades. one that could arise only in exhausted.

found guilty of multiple infanticide.????No. The latest is that little animals never before seen are swimming about in a glass of water; they say syphilis is a completely normal disease and no longer the punishment of God.Belligerent gentlemen grew queasy. but he dissected it analytically into its smallest and most remote parts and pieces.. up on top. he heard nothing. since we know that the decision had been made to dissolve the business. 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. a fine nose. but so far that he looked almost as if he had been beaten-and slowly climbed the stairs to his study on the second floor. pass it beneath his nose almost as elegantly as his master. and she felt no sense of relief when he died of cholera in the Hotel-Dieu. chicken pox. honeys. He was touched by the way this worktable looked: everything lay ready.