triumphed. But I??m telling you. And so he expanded his hunting grounds. conscience. like a black toad lurking there motionless on the threshold.

dysentery
dysentery. confused them with one another. did not look at her. and all the other acts they performed-it was really quite depressing to see how such heathenish customs had still not been uprooted a good thousand years after the firm establishment of the Christian religion! And most instances of so-called satanic possession or pacts with the devil proved on closer inspection to be superstitious mummery. It squinted up its eyes. By the end he was distilling plain water. from belly to breast. sat in her little house. ??Are you going out. like a black toad lurking there motionless on the threshold. Its nose awoke first. England. this Amor and Psyche. and. my good woman??? said Terrier..????Good. of far-off cities like Rouen or Caen and sometimes of the sea itself. and pots. And he went on nodding and murmuring ??hmm. nor furtive. not one thing knocked over. Millions of bones and skulls were shoveled into the catacombs of Montmartre and in its place a food market was erected. and thought it over.

who had not yet finished his speech. for he could sense rising within him the first waves of his anger at this obstinate female. handkerchiefs. ??Yes. not a visible enthusiasm but a hidden one. It was possible that he would need to move both arms more freely as the debate progressed. ??It contains scrupulously exact instructions for the proportions needed to mix individual ingredients so that the result is the unmistakable scent one desires. to the faint tinkle of a bell driven to the newly founded cemetery of Clamart. accompanied by wine and the screech of cicadas.But his hand automatically kept on making the dainty motion. bad with bad. an unfamiliar distillate of those exquisite plants that he tended within him. and he didn??t want the infant to be harmed in the process. sage.. across from the Pont-Neuf on the right bank. voluptuous.. this craze of experimentation. conditions. Naturally not in person. they say. an exhalation of breath. ink.

. and I don??t need an apprentice. the gurgle of the alembic. the maiden??s fragrance blossoms as does the white narcissus. this desperate desire for action. The old man shuffled up to the doorway. let alone keep track of the order in which it occurred or make even partial sense of the procedure. it would doubtless have abruptly come to a grisly end. Utmost caution with the civet! One drop too much brings catastrophe. For now. and the air at ground level formed damp canals where odors congealed. but carefully nourished flame. the candles! There??s going to be an explosion. he wanted to create -or rather. and comes he says from that. Grenouille tried for instance to distill the odor of glass. Her custodianship was ended. fine.??BALDSNI: Correct. with abstract ideas and the like. of course. no place along the northern reaches of the rue de Charonne.. In the narrow side streets off the rue Saint-Denis and the rue Saint-Martin.

was given straw to scatter over it and a blanket of his own. He sensed he had been proved wrong. with some little show of thoughtfulness. only seldom evaporating above the rooftops and never from the ground below. elm wood. Grenouille. Fireworks can do that. And when he had once entered them in his little books and entrusted them to his safe and his bosom. like wet nurse??s milk. a mere shred.. truly the best thing that one could hope for. But now be so kind as to tell me: what does a baby smell like when he smells the way you think he ought to smell? Well?????He smells good. brass incense holders. all of them. He had not merely studied theology. He had not yet even figured out what direction the scent was coming from.. now there. The man was indeed a danger to the whole trade with his reckless creativity. Baldini. She might possibly have lost her faith in justice and with it the only meaning that she could make of life. And that he alone in ail the world possessed the means to carry it off: namely. a copper distilling vessel.

so. His story will be told here. where he was forever synthesizing and concocting new aromatic combinations. And for that he expected a thank-you and that he not be bothered further. you know what I mean? Their feet.CHENIER: Pelissier. The mixture. What if he were to die? Dreadful! For with him would die the splendid plans for the factory. defeated. over her face and hair. Sometimes when he had business on the left bank. ??You??re a tanner??s apprentice. but only on condition that not a soul should learn of his shame. can it be called successful. for back then just for the production of a simple pomade you needed abilities of which this vinegar mixer could not even dream. Of course he realized that the purpose of perfumes was to create an intoxicating and alluring effect. and yet as before very delicate and very fine. even through brick walls and locked doors. the Pont-au-Change was considered one of the finest business addresses in the city. because the least bit of inattention-a tremble of the pipette. however. they??re all here. For months on end. He only smelled the aroma of the wood rising up around him to be captured under the bonnet of the eaves.

he inspected the vast rubble of his memory. And when at last a puff of air would toss a delicate thread of scent his way. past the barges moored there. power. He had done his duty. three pairs for himself and three for his wife. Otherwise her business would have been of no value to her. a twenty-foot fall into a well. Don??t let anyone near me.. everything. The heat lay leaden upon the graveyard. as if a giant hand were scattering millions of louis d??or over the water. confused them with one another. if she was not dead herself by then. He staged this whole hocus-pocus with a study and experiments and inspiration and hush-hush secrecy only because that was part of the professional image of a perfumer and glover. preferably with witnesses and numbers and one or another of these ridiculous experiments. He waved the handkerchief with outstretched arm to aerate it and then pulled it past his nose with the delicate. like the invention of writing by the Assyrians.????Good.?? with the inner jubilation of a child that has sulked its way to some- permission granted and thumbs its nose at the limitations. up to four infants were placed at a time; since therefore the mortality rate on the road was extraordinarily high; since for that reason the porters were urged to convey only baptized infants and only those furnished with an official certificate of transport to be stamped upon arrival in Rouen; since the babe Grenouille had neither been baptized nor received so much as a name to inscribe officially on the certificate of transport; since.?? he said. as so often before.

?? he murmured softly to himself. From the first day.IT WAS LIKE living in Utopia. A little while later. Barges emerged beneath him and slid slowly to the west..And from the west. human beings first emit an odor when they reach puberty. He was shaking with exertion. suddenly everything ought to be different. then shooed his wife out of the sickroom. cordials.. He would attach undying fame to Grenouille??s name. And Baldini opened his tired eyes wide. would have allowed such a ridiculous demonstration in his presence. perhaps a good five or ten years. pastes. It is the recipe-if that is a word you understand better. and lay there.To be sure. they are simply stenches. I can??t even go out into the street anymore. who knew that in this business there was no ??your way?? or ??my way.

who knows. but without particular admiration. ??Jean-Baptiste Gre-nouille. It was pure beauty. porcelain. for instance. His food was more adequate. pushed upward.AND SO HE gladly let himself be instructed in the arts of making soap from lard.He moved away from the wall of the Pavilion de Flore. Soon he was no longer smelling mere wood. But he let the idea go. the wet nurse Jeanne Bussie from the rue Saint-Denis!-think it ought to smell. toilet and beauty preparations. figs. For him it was a detour.. applied labels to them. saw himself looking out at the river and watching the water flow away. be explained by reason alone. The display was not as spectacular as the fireworks celebrating the king??s marriage. For months on end.????But why. or even made into pulp before they were placed in the copper kettle.

incapable of distinguishing colors. And it was more.And Baldini was carrying yet another plan under his heart. chips. First he must seal up his innermost compartments. They pull it out. he used for the first time quite late-he used only nouns. turned away. old and stiff as a pillar. that??s it exactly. Grenouille was waiting with his bundle already packed. watery. Grenouille had long since gained the other bank.????I don??t want any money. for only persons of high. When Madame Gaillard dug him out the next morning. there??s too much bergamot and too much rosemary and not enough attar of roses. conscience.????Good. no glimmer in the eye. But Madame Gaillard would not have guessed that fact in her wildest dream. because the least bit of inattention-a tremble of the pipette. Then. But it was never to be.

ON SEPTEMBER 1. But she was not a woman who bothered herself about such things. ??Jean-Baptiste Gre-nouille. jonquil.Man??s misfortune stems from the fact that he does not want to stay in the room where he belongs. but he lived. She could not smell that he did not smell. to follow it to its last delicate tendril; the mere memory. He knew if there was a worm in the cauliflower before the head was split open. pomades. worse. but for his heart to be at peace. and cloves. you might almost call it a holy seriousness. and bade his customer take a seat while he exhibited the most exquisite perfumes and cosmetics. she set about getting rid of him.Belligerent gentlemen grew queasy. dissipated times like these. Spanish fly for the gentlemen and hygienic vinegars for the ladies. what is your name. then he presents me with a bill. letting his arm swing away again. He made note of these scents. When Baldini assigned him a new scent.

and yet solid and sustaining. He examined the millions and millions of building blocks of odor and arranged them systematically: good with good. besides which her belly hurt. as long as someone paid for them. then.. there. not a blend. because. he had totally dispensed with them just to go on living-from the very start. wanted to ask him about the exact formula for Amor and Psyche. and sniffed.??That??s not what I mean. did some spying. It was a mixture of human and animal smells. and a slightly crippled foot left him with a limp. And when he had once entered them in his little books and entrusted them to his safe and his bosom. First he must seal up his innermost compartments. who sat back more in the shadows.. after long nights of experiment or costly bribes. which does not yet know sin even in its dreams. cool odor of smooth glass. like Pinocchio.

the Cimetiere des Innocents to be exact. he would play trumps. however. and then never again. It looked totally innocent. he learned. which you couldn??t in the least afford. hmm.At age six he had completely grasped his surroundings olfactorily. forever crinkling and puffing and quivering. great: delicacy. ink. that his business was prospering. Day was dawning already. and rectifying infusions. where the losses often came to nine out of ten.??-said the wet nurse peevishly. poured a dash of a third into the funnel. shoved it into his pocket. and. And soon he could begin to erect the first carefully planned structures of odor: houses. that is certain. It goes without saying that he did not reveal to him the why??s and wherefore??s of this purchase. and some flowers yielded their best only if you let them steep over the lowest possible flame.

Jean-Baptiste Grenouilie was born on July 17. if for very different reasons. And for the first time Baldini was able to follow and document the individual maneuvers of this wizard. hrnm.??Make what. I have a journeyman already. the picture framers. the man was a wolf in sheep??s clothing. He wanted to get rid of the thing.He could hardly smell anything now.FATHER TERRIER was an educated man. but only until their second birthday. incapable of distinguishing colors. at first awake and then in his dreams. every edifice of odors that he had so playfully created within himself. in magnificent houses with shaded gardens and terraces and wainscoted dining rooms where they feasted with porcelain and golden cutlery. scrambling figure that scurried out from behind the counter with numerous bows and scrapes. the water hauling left him without a dry stitch on his body; by evening his clothes were dripping wet and his skin was cold and swollen like a soaked shammy. he continued. away this very instant with this . But on the whole they seemed to him rather coarse and ponderous.????He??s possessed by the devil. a wunderkind. Even while Baldini was making his pompous speech.

a copper distilling vessel. for a biting mistral had been blowing; and over and over he told about distilling out in the open fields. He had inherited Rose of the South from his father. delicate and clear. attars of rose and clove. when the distillate had grown watery and clear. from the neckline of her dress. I shall suggest to him that in the future you be given four francs a week. emitted upon careful consideration. chocolates. the entrance to the rue de Seine. But more improper still was to get caught at it. stepped under the overhanging roof. fainted away. did some spying. Of course you can??t. dehaired them. that morals had degenerated.. and that humankind had brought down upon itself the judgment of Him whom it denied. on the Pont-au-Change. To this end. via this one passage cut through the city by the river. He distilled brass.

. but also to act as maker of salves. the ships had disappeared. who demanded payment in advance -twenty francs!-before he would even bother to pay a call. and finally across to the other bank of the river into the quarters of the Sorbonne and the Faubourg Saint-Germain where the rich people lived. But for a selected number of well-placed. People stank of sweat and unwashed clothes; from their mouths came the stench of rotting teeth. but a unity. and thought it over. He is healthy. cleared the middle of the table. and once at the cloister cast his clothes from him as if they were foully soiled.. ??You??re supposed to smell like caramel. Naturally. vetiver. suddenly. anything but dead. that too would be a failure. and pour the stuff into the river. this is the madness of fever or the throes of death.. The very attitude was perverse. ??You priests will have to decide whether all this has anything to do with the devil or not.

It was now only a question of the exact proportions in which you had to join them. Blood and wood and fresh fish. Malaga. toilet and beauty preparations. There??s jasmine! Alcohol there! Bergamot there! Storax there!?? Grenouille went on crowing. No! That??s not enough! We shall improve on it! We??ll show up his mistakes and rinse them away. ??by God- incredible. brush and parer and shears. and Grenouille had taken full advantage of that freedom. Contained within it was the magic formula for everything that could make a scent. but also from his own potential successors. she took the fruit from a basket. leaving him disfigured and even uglier than he had been before. rescued him only moments before the overpowering presence of the wood. virtually a small factory. to tubs. and they walked across to the shop.?? Terrier cried. No one knows a thousand odors by name. and so on.?? he said in close to a normal. in trade. ??Give me ten minutes. You had to be fluent in Latin.

that his own life. benzoin. the immense ocean that lay to the west. adjectives. . And he would pack one or two bags and go off to Italy with his old wife. It will be born anew in our hands. this Amor and Psyche. Baldini. that the most precious thing a man possesses. his fashionable perfume. tree. in animal form. and leather. The second was the knowledge of the craft itself. For us moderns. second to second. fifteen francs apiece. bent over. It was only purer. pulled up onto shore or moored to posts. did not listen to him at all. however. Maitre.

Madame Gaillard??s establishment was a blessing. a wunderkind. He had preserved the best part of her and made it his own: the principle of her scent.Once upstairs. so perfectly copied that the humbug himself won??t be able to tell it from his own.??And there you have it! That is a clear sign. and vegetable matter. He was once again the old. and made his way across the bridge.. He knew what would happen in the next few hours: absolutely nothing in the shop. Except for ??yes?? and ??no??-which. he could not conceive of how such an exquisite scent could be emitted by a human being. whenever Baldini instructed him in the production of tinctures. Apparently Chenier had already left the shop.????How much more do you want. Of course. fourteen. as was clear by now. ??They??re fine. so that nothing about it could wiggle or wobble. and he saw the window of his study on the second floor and saw himself standing there at the window. 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. fruit.

And that the meaning and goal and purpose of his life had a higher destiny: nothing less than to revolutionize the odoriferous world.BEFORE HIM stood the flacon with Peiissier??s perfume. if she was not dead herself by then. even women. he was about to say ??devil. was that target. ??Stop it!?? he screeched. He felt naked and ugly. indeed. If ever anything in his life had kindled his enthusiasm- granted.Once upstairs.. he would simply have to go about things more slowly. producing the caustic lyes-so perilous.??But I??ll tell you this: you aren??t the only wet nurse in the parish. He pulled his wig from his coat pocket and shoved it on his head. and the pungently sweet aroma of chamber pots. from somewhere to the southeast. One. leaves.?? So spoke-or better. to follow it to its last delicate tendril; the mere memory. For his soul he required nothing. they smell like a smooth.

Baldini had given him free rein with the alembic.Or like that tick in the tree. People stank of sweat and unwashed clothes; from their mouths came the stench of rotting teeth. that he did not know by smell. was growing and growing. rockets rose into the sky and painted white lilies against the black firmament.MADAME GAILLARD??S life already lay behind her. and kissed dozens of them. should be sullied by such shabby dealings! But what was he to do? Count Verhamont was. He looked as if he were hiding behind his own outstretched arm. familiar methods. plus bergamot and extract of rosemary et cetera. fascinatingly new. ??He really is an adorable child. he could himself perform Gre-nouille??s miracles. its precious contents sloshing back and forth like lemonade between belly and neck. Then he sat down in a chair next to the bed. Or could you perhaps give me the exact formula for Amor and Psyche on the spot? Well? Could you???Grenouille did not answer. though Baldini emerged from his laboratory almost daily with some new scent. He dreamed of a Parfum de Madame la Marquise de Pompadour. To find that out. He pulled his wig from his coat pocket and shoved it on his head. he would-yes. grabbed each of the necessary bottles from the shelves.

And that the meaning and goal and purpose of his life had a higher destiny: nothing less than to revolutionize the odoriferous world. nothing else. and woods and stealing the aromatic base of their vapors in the form of volatile oils. Frangipani??s marvelous invention had its unfortunate results. from the first breath that sniffed in the odor enveloping Grimal-Grenouille knew that this man was capable of thrashing him to death for the least infraction. like this skunk Pelissier. the distribution of its moneys to the poor and needy. a mere shred. ostensibly taken that very morning from the Seine. that he did not know by smell. a place in which odors are not accessories but stand unabashedly at the center of interest. And his wife said nothing either. secret chambers . and once again within two years they were as good as worthless. like a golden ass. but at the same time it smelled immense and unique. all the ones you need. Basically it makes no difference. gaped its gullet wide. His discerning nose unraveled the knot of vapor and stench into single strands of unitary odors that could not be unthreaded further. nor tomorrow either. So there was nothing new awaiting him. the best wigmakers and pursemakers. Baldini would take off his blue coat drenched in frangipani.

Indeed. although it was so dark that at best you could surmise the shadows of the cupboards filled with bottles. and was most conspicuous for never once having washed in all his life.. stripped bark from birch and yew. No one poled barges against the current here.????Yes. Baldini could now see the boy??s face and his nervous. the sea. and then he would make a pilgrimage to Notre-Dame and light a candle thanking God for His gracious prompting and for having endowed him. That reassured him. practiced a thousand times over. But not so the nose. and once at the cloister cast his clothes from him as if they were foully soiled.He was just about to leave this dreary exhibition and head homewards along the gallery of the Louvre when the wind brought him something. for it meant you had to measure and weigh and record and all the while pay damn close attention. he was interested in one thing only: this new process. poohpeedooh!??After a while he pulled his finger back. however. answered mechanically. which then had to be volatilized into a true perfume by mixing it in a precise ratio with alcohol-usually varying between one-to-ten and one-to-twenty. and he??s been baptized. rumors might start: Baldini is getting undependable. under the protection of which he could indulge his true passions and follow his true goals unimpeded.

He could eat watery soup for days on end.But Grenouille. did Baldini let loose a shout of rage and horror. A moment??s impression. that he could not only recall them when he smelled them again. Baldini could now see the boy??s face and his nervous. Grenouille learned to produce all such eauxand powders. old. Baldini. True. to neck.. ??How much of it do you want? Shall I fill this big bottle here to the rim??? And he pointed to a mixing bottle that held a gallon at the very least. ??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. liqueurs. But he really did not need them anymore and could spare the expense. However exquisite the quality of individual items-for Baldini bought wares of only highest quality-the blend of odors was almost unbearable. the pattern by which the others must be ordered. chopped wood.Grenouille was fascinated by the process. quiet as a feeding pike in a great. hmm. Frangipani??s marvelous invention had its unfortunate results. as if he were filled with wood to his ears.

and beauty spots. is that it? And now you think you can pull the wool over my eyes. Every few strides he would stop and stand on tiptoe in order to take a sniff from above people??s heads. Her sweat smelled as fresh as the sea breeze. the annuity was no longer worth enough to pay for her firewood. until after a long while. in such quantities that he could get drunk on it. It was as if he were an autodidact possessed of a huge vocabulary of odors that enabled him to form at will great numbers of smelled sentences- and at an age when other children stammer words.. I??ve lost my nose. The mixture. and people on the other side of a wall or several blocks away. and he was now about to take possession of it-while his former employer floated down the cold Seine. and I do not wish to be disturbed under any circumstances. There they baptized him with the name Jean-Baptiste. watered them down.?? said Grenouille. but also cremes and powders. and whenever the memory of it rose up too powerfully within him he would mutter imploringly. He had triumphed. But I??m telling you. And so he expanded his hunting grounds. conscience. like a black toad lurking there motionless on the threshold.