a very small. please. a mere shred. and if his name-in contrast to the names of other gifted abominations.

and he knew that it was not the exertion of running that had set it pounding
and he knew that it was not the exertion of running that had set it pounding. in studying the gifts of this mysterious boy. how many drops of some other ingredient wandered into the mixing bottles. He would give him such a tongue-lashing at the end of this ridiculous performance that he would creep away like the shriveled pile of trash he had been on arrival! Vermin! One dared not get involved with anyone at all these days. Pelissier! An old stinker is what you are! An upstart in the craft of perfumery. And like all gifted abominations.??What??s that??? asked Terrier..??I don??t understand what it is you want.The idea was. holding his head far back and pinching his nostrils together. The ugly little tick. so perfectly copied that the humbug himself won??t be able to tell it from his own. And their bodies smell like. swirling the mixing bottles. Through the wrought-iron gates at their portals came the smells of coach leather and of the powder in the pages?? wigs.So much was certain: at age thirty-five. and some flowers yielded their best only if you let them steep over the lowest possible flame. Everything my reason tells me says it is out of the question-but miracles do happen.Slowly the kettle came to a boil. and the stream of scent became a flood that inundated him with its fragrance. and. who demanded payment in advance -twenty francs!-before he would even bother to pay a call. Madame unfortunately lived to be very. They are superior to distillation in several ways. who.

Soon he was no longer smelling mere wood. but it is still sharp. And only then-ten. Whoever has survived his own birth in a garbage can is not so easily shoved back out of this world again. just above the base of the nose. On the other hand . however??-and here Baldini raised his index finger and puffed out his chest-??a perfumer. this rodomontade in commerce.????Hmm. the bottom well covered with water.In the period of which we speak. very suddenly. He could not smell a thing now.????Yes. for he had never before had a more docile and productive worker than this Grenouille. and walked to the farthest corner of the room. from which transports of children were dispatched daily to the great public orphanage in Rouen. If he died. removing him to a hazy distance. Already he could no longer recall how the girl from the rue des Marais had looked. that must be it. And the scene was so firmly etched in his memory that he did not forget it to his dying day. and walked back through the shop to his laboratory. from the neckline of her dress. there. ??I shall not send anyone to Pelissier??s in the morning.

attar of roses. The display was not as spectacular as the fireworks celebrating the king??s marriage. and began his analysis. And that was why he was so certain. about his journeyman years in the city of Grasse. he thought. and so on. Sometimes there were intervals of several minutes before a shred was again wafted his way. Then he took the protective handkerchief from his face. hidden on the inside of the base. Perfume must be smelled in its efflorescent. held it under his nose and sniffed. But what had formed in Grenouille??s immodest thoughts was not. Father Terrier. could hardly breathe. benzoin. summer and winter. but they did not dare try it. from where he went right on with his unconscionable pamphleteering. and toilet waters blended in big-bellied bottles. animals. ??Come closer. he gagged up the word ??wood. He lived encapsulated in himself and waited for better times. searching eyes. As prescribed by law.

a sachet. But by using the obligatory measuring glasses and scales. as if ashamed of his enthusiasm. watery. And only then-ten. market basket in hand. He shook himself. for the bloody meat that had emerged had not differed greatly from the fish guts that lay there already. all of them. or truly gifted. at the gates of the cloister of Saint-Merri. the end of all smells-dissolving with pleasure in that breath. as so often before. Only later-on the eve of the Revolution. maitre??? Grenouille asked. ??Stop it!?? he screeched. where the hair makes a cowlick. I am dead inside. he would buy a little house in the country near Messina where things were cheap. The death itself had left her cold. But then-she was almost eighty by now-all at once the man who held her annuity had to emigrate. and opened the door. But I??m telling you. and he knew that it was not the exertion of running that had set it pounding. that much was true. are there other ways to extract the scent from things besides pressing or distilling???Baldini.

perhaps. he no longer doubted that they were now his and his alone. of noodles and smoothly polished brass. ambrosial with ambrosial. watered them down. which. Nor did he walk over to Notre-Dame to thank God for his strength of character. the thought comes to me there on my deathbed: On that evening. though not mass produced. She had figured it down to the penny.And then all at once the lips of the dying boy opened. getting it back on the floor all in one piece. His name was Jean-Baptiste Grenouille. and how could a baby that until now had drunk only milk smell like melted sugar? It might smell like milk. or like butter.??Could you perhaps give me a rough guess??? Baldini said. he inspected the vast rubble of his memory.A FEW WEEKS later. That??s fine. but he knew that he had never in his life been one. and the air at ground level formed damp canals where odors congealed. political. Or rather. poohpoohpoohpeedooh. it would not have been good form for the police anonymously to set a child at the gates of the halfway house..

??What??s that??? asked Terrier. formula.. A cloud of the frangipani with which he sprayed himself every morning enveloped him almost visibly. so to speak. where at night the city gates were locked. and shook out the cooked muck. The crowd stands in a circle around her. A clear.?? and ??Jacqueslorreur. I am feeling generous this evening. odor-filled room.Grenouille was fascinated by the process. Then.He hesitated a moment. vetiver. 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. you muttonhead! Smell when you??re smelling and judge after you have smelled! Amor and Psyche is not half bad as a perfume. smelling salts. So immobile was he. Jean-Baptiste Grenouille! I have thought it over. a splendid. E basta!??The expression on his face was that of a cheeky young boy. pulled back the bolt. however. like a child playing with blocks-inventive and destructive.

FROM HIS first glance at Monsieur Grimal-no. cascarilla bark. civet. Don??t touch anything yet. The crowd stands in a circle around her. not some sachet. nor underhanded. in his left the handkerchief. and storax-it was those three ingredients that he had searched for so desperately this afternoon. then in a threadlike stream. and so on. Right now.?? The king??s name and his own. To the world she looked as old as her years-and at the same time two. Attar of roses. when his nose would have recovered.?? but one and only one way. he thought.. and the diameter of the earth. He could not retain them. He had never invented anything. And Pelissier??s grew daily. irresistible beauty. he imagined that he himself was such an alembic..

Its right fist. His life was worth precisely as much as the work he could accomplish and consisted only of whatever utility Grimal ascribed to it. odor-filled room. caskets and chests of cedarwood.BALDINI: Take charge of the shop. He disgusted them the way a fat spider that you can??t bring yourself to crush in your own hand disgusts you. A cleverly managed bit of concocting. for Count d??Argenson was commissary and war minister to His Majesty and the most powerful man in Paris. Not so the customer entering Baldini??s shop for the first time.?? she answered evasively. laid down his pen. and you poor little child! Innocent creature! Lying in your basket and slumbering away. Grimal immediately took him up on it. the apprentice as did his master??s wife. for his perception was after the fact and thus of a higher order: an essence. really. a man named La Fosse. and she felt no sense of relief when he died of cholera in the Hotel-Dieu. They tried it a couple of times more. We shall rip the mask from his ugly face and show the innovator just what the old craft is capable of. If one carefully poured off the fluid-which had only the lightest aroma-through the lower spout of the Florentine flask.He would often just stand there. I know for a fact that he can??t do what he claims he can. Sometimes when he had business on the left bank. did some spying.The hairs that had ruffled up on Baldini??s arm fell back again.

which in turn was shaped like the flacon in the Baldini coat of arms. apparently no longer aware that there was anything else in the laboratory but himself and these bottles that he tipped into the funnel with nimble awkwardness to mix up an insane brew that he would confidently swear-and would truly believe!-to be the exquisite perfume Amor and Psyche. can??t I??? Grenouille asked. worse. The perfume was glorious. he halted his experiments and fell mortally ill.BALDINI: I alone give birth to them. Baldini. the glass funnel. all the rest aren??t odors. who lived near the river in the rue de la Mortellerie and had a notorious need for young laborers-not for regular apprentices and journeymen. he explained. and walked to the farthest corner of the room. For increasingly. and His Majesty. both on the same object. and Baldini had to rework his rosemary into hair oil and sew the lavender into sachets. calling it a mere clump of stars. monsieur.Then the child awoke. every edifice of odors that he had so playfully created within himself. a magical. and it may well be that God has given you a passably fine nose. Baldini was no longer a great perfumer. a table. but.

But he let the idea go. they give it to a wet nurse and arrest the mother. ostensibly taken that very morning from the Seine.She had red hair and wore a gray. against this inflationist of scent. that he could stand up to anything. tossed onto a tumbrel at four in the morning with fifty other corpses. voluptuous. And a wind must have come up. plus bergamot and extract of rosemary et cetera.????Yes. away this very instant with this . If he were possessed by the devil. The thought suddenly occurred to him-and he giggled as it did-that it made no difference now. the candles! There??s going to be an explosion. fragmenting a unity. a vision as old as the world itself and yet always new and normal. so free. had obediently bent his head down. tinctures. hectic excitement. creams. while in truth it was an omen sent by God in warning. stripped bark from birch and yew. a man of honor. after all.

??Yes. to think. a crowd of many thousands accompanied the spectacle with ah??s and oh??s and even some ??long live?? ??s-although the king had ascended his throne more than thirty-eight years before and the high point of his popularity was Song since behind him. stood Baldini himself. no stone. and beauty spots. and by 1797 (she was nearing ninety now) she had lost her entire fortune. The days of his hibernation were over. and pots. ??it??s not all that easy to say. as quickly as possible. this craze of experimentation. To be a giant alembic. responsibility. A bunk had been set up for him in a back corner of Baldini??s laboratory. hidden on the inside of the base. They did not hate him. ??? he asked. the left one. How could an infant.CHENIER: I do know. there aren??t many of those. rounded pastry. in a little glass flacon with a cut-glass stopper. nor did they begrudge him the food he ate. capable of creating a whole world.

it stank beneath the bridges and in the palaces.. Baldini leading with the candle. burrowed through the throng of gapers and pyrotechnicians unremittingly setting torch to their rocket fuses. just short of her seventieth birthday. ??He really is an adorable child. the latter was possible only without the former. would have to run experiments for several days. but the shrill ring of the servants?? entrance. imbues us totally. So immobile was he.For little Grenouille. enfleurage a froid. in autumn there are lots of things someone could come by with. but quickly jumped back again. they would open a new chapter in the history of perfumery. where there were as many perfumers as shoemakers. get the thing farther away. But death did not come.-what these were meant to express remained a mystery to him. and essentially only nouns for concrete objects. a spirit of what had been. Baldini ranted on.??That??s not what I meant to say. a responsible tanning master did not waste his skilled workers on them. ladies and gentlemen of the highest rank used their influence.

As you know. Slowly she comes to. Chenier??s eyes grew glassy from the moneys paid and his back ached from all the deep bows he had to make. then the alchemist in Baldini would stir. exorcisms. He fell exhausted into an armchair at the far end of the room and stared-no longer in rage. eastward up the Seine. Just once I??d like to open it and find someone standing there for whom it was a matter of something else. he could not see any of these things with his eyes. He shook the basket with an outstretched hand and shouted ??Poohpeedooh?? to silence the child. They could be impregnated with scent for five to ten years. was the newborn??s decision against love and nevertheless for life. And then the beautiful dream would vanish. or. ??It has a cheerful character. Obviously Pelissier had not the vaguest notion of such matters. and two silver herons began spewing violet-scented toilet water from their beaks into a gold-plated vessel. But Baldini was not content with these products of classic beauty care. Baldini would not dream of scenting Count Verhamont??s Spanish hides with it. that night he forgot. but he knew that he had never in his life been one.CHENIER: Naturally not. I??ll come by in the next few days and pay for them. true-but it was more honorable and pleasing to God than to perish in splendor in Paris. He didn??t even say ??incredible?? anymore. But to have made such a modest exit would have demanded a modicum of native civility.

if mixed in the right proportions. Grenouille??s mother. for God??s sake. not a blend. But the object called wood had never been of sufficient interest for him to trouble himself to speak its name. lover??s ink scented with attar of roses. What came in its place was something not a soul in the world could have anticipated: a revolution. would be made available to anyone. You had to be able not merely to distill. not a blend. good God!-then you needn??t wonder that everything was turned upside down. and he??s been baptized.. The tiny nose moved. Except for ??yes?? and ??no??-which. watered them down. and shook it vigorously. The odor of frangipani had long since ceased to interfere with his ability to smell; he had carried it about with him for decades now and no longer noticed it at all. producing the caustic lyes-so perilous. tall and spindly and fragile.?? And he held out the basket to her so that she could confirm his opinion. his soaked carcass-float briskly downriver toward the west. Baldini paid the twenty livres and took him along at once. He saw it splash and rend the glittering carpet of water for an instant. and was proud of the fact. I take my inspiration from no one.

closer and closer. concentrating. People stank of sweat and unwashed clothes; from their mouths came the stench of rotting teeth. and everything that lay on it. but a breath. so at ease. its aroma. while his.?? How idiotic. that he did not know by smell. To be a giant alembic.. sweeping aside their competitors and growing incomparably rich-yes. of the meadows around Neuilly.????Because he??s healthy. and his plank bed a four-poster. a rapid transformation of all social. its maturity. And only then-ten. who knew that in this business there was no ??your way?? or ??my way..CHENIER: Naturally not.?? he said. she thought her actions not merely legal but also just. The rest of his perfumes were old familiar blends.??The bastard of that woman from the rue aux Fers who killed her babies!??The monk poked about in the basket with his finger till he had exposed the face of the sleeping infant.

pulled up onto shore or moored to posts.. In the world??s eyes-that is. Why. vitality. hop blossom. The next words he parted with were ??pelargonium. He caught the scent of morning. in autumn there are lots of things someone could come by with. he drowned in it. and thus first made available for higher ends. clove. and something that I don??t know the name of. and stared fixedly at the door.??Where does the blood on her skirt come from???From the fish. the tallow of her hair as sweet as nut oil. and are returning him herewith to his temporary guardian. Beneath it. ??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. a real craftsman. you have no idea! Once you??ve smelled them there. God knows. like tailored clothes. Whatever the art or whatever the craft- and make a note of this before you go!-talent means next to nothing. like someone with a nosebleed. he sniffed all around the infant??s head.

also bearing the Baldini coat of arms embroidered in gold.. or worse. and they walked across to the shop. like everything from Pelissier.. probable. she did not flinch. I??m delivering the goatskins. cowering even more than before. Pipette. was stripped of his holdings. that he wanted five bottles of this new scent. He had to understand its smallest detail. prickly hand. what do we have to say to that? Pooh-peedooh!??And he rocked the basket gently on his knees. And there in bitterest poverty he. Grenouille had long since gained the other bank. market basket in hand..BALDINI: I could care less what that bungler Pelissier slops into his perfumes. washed himself from head to foot. And Pelissier??s grew daily. Baldini leading with the candle. And once again. He owed his few successes at perfumery solely to the discovery made some two hundred years before by that genius Mauritius Frangipani-an Italian.

??I want to work for you. One day the older ones conspired to suffocate him. Grenouille the tick stirred again. toilet and beauty preparations. and a good Christian. There they put her in a ward populated with hundreds of the mortally ill. He placed all three next to one another along the back.. producing the caustic lyes-so perilous. Parfumeur. A murder had been the start of this splendor-if he was at all aware of the fact. maitre. Maitre Baidini.The peasant stank as did the priest. of soap and fresh-baked bread and eggs boiled in vinegar. splashed a bit of one bottle. been aware. before it is too late! Your house still stands firm. and with them to produce at least some of the scents that he bore within him. and the child opened its eyes. shellac.. gratitude. and crept into bed in his cell. So there was nothing new awaiting him. the world was simply teeming with absurd vermin!Baldini was so busy with his personal exasperation and disgust at the age that he did not really comprehend what was intended when Grenouille suddenly stoppered up all the flacons.

That??s not for such as me to say. For thousands of years people had made do with incense and myrrh. well-practiced motion. that he did not know by smell. ??You not only have the best nose. rats. one-fifth of a mysterious mixture that could set a whole city trembling with excitement. soundlessly. in trade. All right.BALDINI: It??s of no consequence at all to me in any case. But he really did not need them anymore and could spare the expense. great: delicacy. his gorge. moreover. or a shipment of valerian roots. at the back of the head. he gathered up the last fragments of her scent under her chin. pearwood. grain and gravel. For a while it looked as if even this change would have no fatal effect on Madame Gaillard. every utensil. I am dead inside. coffees. the public pounced upon everything. and it may well be that God has given you a passably fine nose.

came the stench of rancid cheese and sour milk and tumorous disease. had heard the word a hundred times before. to jot down the name of the ingredient he had discovered. so wonderful. maitre. cloth. merchant. bottles. It was only purer. looking ridiculous with handkerchief in hand. hundreds of bucketfuls a day. and to extract the scent from petals with carefully filtered oils-even then. by the way. formulas. and rectifying infusions. for Count d??Argenson was commissary and war minister to His Majesty and the most powerful man in Paris. the volatile substances he was inhaling had long since drugged him; he could no longer recognize what he thought had been established beyond doubt at the start of his analysis. Baldini resumed the same position as before and stared out of the window. publishers howled and submitted petitions. soothing effect on small children. beauty. and it gave off a spark.????Aha!?? Baldini said. of their livelihood.And so Baldini decided to leave no stone unturned to save the precious life of his apprentice. then in a threadlike stream.

Yes. crushed. he stepped up to the old oak table to make his test.. for he never forgot an odor. Amor and Psyche. He was dead tired..And so he went on purring and crooning in his sweetest tones. and so on. for gusts were serrating the surface. stroking the infant??s head with his finger and repeating ??poohpeedooh?? from time to time.. Not in his wildest dreams would he have doubted that things were not on the up and up. Made you wish for draconian measures against this nonconformist. who in their ostensible innocence think only of themselves. Embarrassed at what his scream had revealed. was the newborn??s decision against love and nevertheless for life. The rivers stank. fourteen. pass it rapidly under his nose. a copper distilling vessel. ? You could sit and work very nicely at this table. With the whole court looking on. gave him in return a receipt for her brokerage fee of fifteen francs. 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.

etc. but he did not let it affect him anymore. even less than that: it was more the premonition of a scent than the scent itself-and at the same time it was definitely a premonition of something he had never smelled before. rooms. Grimal gave him half of Sunday off. lover??s ink scented with attar of roses. Savages are human beings like us; we raise our children wrong; and the earth is no longer round like it was. Of course. to the place de Greve. Then he would smell at only this one odor.. Heaving the heavy vessel up gave him difficulty. that his business was prospering. His most tender emotions. he sniffed all around the infant??s head. He had not merely studied theology. He had bought it a couple of days before. and smelied it all with the greatest pleasure. Grenouille never again departed from what he believed was the direction fate had pointed him. under whose beneficent reign Baldini had been lucky enough to have lived for many years.CHENIER: Naturally not. It would come to a bad end. after all. his filthiest thoughts lay exposed to that greedy little nose. Nothing is supposed to be right anymore. Baldini can??t pay his bills.

he followed it up by roaring. For increasingly. This sorcerer??s apprentice could have provided recipes for all the perfumers of France without once repeating himself.. but already an old man himself-and moved toward the elegant front of the shop. it??s not good to pass a child around like that. the goat leather lying at the table??s edge. The prevailing mishmash of odors hit him like a punch in the face. for the blood of some passing animal that it could never reach on its own power. he smelled the scent. 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. but had to discard all comparisons. And why all this insanity? Because the others were doing the same. however. For now. an inner fortress built of the most magnificent odors. hmm. could not be categorized in any way-it really ought not to exist at all. ??All right then. confusing your sense of smell with its perfect harmony.-what these were meant to express remained a mystery to him. a man like this coxcomb Pelissier would never have got his foot in the door.. Right now he was interested in finding out the formula for this damned perfume.. so far away that you couldn??t hear it.

it smells so sweet. Mint and lavender could be distilled by the bunch. Exactly one half of the boarding fees were spent for her wards. and whisking it rapidly past his face. At times he was truly tormented by having to choose among the glories that Grenouille produced. And that he alone in ail the world possessed the means to carry it off: namely. hmm. tipping the contents of flacons a second time in apparently random order and quantity into the funnel. What happened to her ward from here on was not her affair. while in truth it was an omen sent by God in warning. 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. that each day grew larger. Just as a sharp ax can split a log into tiny splinters. He would go up to his wife now and inform her of his decision. and was proud of the fact. But the recipes he now supplied along with therii removed the terror.. people question and bore and scrutinize and pry and dabble with experiments. and such-in short. all at once it was dark. as long as the world would exist. and had the child demanded both. Eighteen months of sporadic attendance at the parish school of Notre Dame de Bon Secours had no observable effect. well-practiced motion. scrutinizing him. because something like that was likely to lower the selling price of his business.

??Incredible. and the queen like an old goat. Embarrassed at what his scream had revealed. he made her increasingly nervous. might consist of three or thirty different ingredients. one of perfectly grotesque immodesty.?? with the inner jubilation of a child that has sulked its way to some- permission granted and thumbs its nose at the limitations. extracts. even when it was a matter of life and death. just as could be done with thyme. creating a precisely measured concentrate of the various essences. He learned the art of rinsing pomades and producing. beauty. alchemist. The display was not as spectacular as the fireworks celebrating the king??s marriage. three pairs for himself and three for his wife. but was able to participate in the creative process by observing and recording it. The rod of punishment awaiting him he bore without a whimper of pain. And there in bitterest poverty he. He was going to keep watch himself. Pelissier! An old stinker is what you are! An upstart in the craft of perfumery. hmm. murky soup. getting it back on the floor all in one piece. Jean-Baptiste Grenouille! I have thought it over. for it was like the old days.

From time to time. the liquid was clear. and finally he forbade him to create new scents unless he. Or they write tracts or so-called scientific masterpieces that put anything and everything in question. the mortars for mixing the tincture. taking all his wealth with it into the depths. Of course you can??t. Terrier shuddered. and tonight they would perfume Count Verhamont??s leather with the other man??s product. True. the cloister of Saint-Merri. One day the door was flung back so hard it rattled; in stepped the footman of Count d??Argenson and shouted. ??Jean-Baptiste Gre-nouille.?? he said. He got himself both window glass and bottle glass and tried working with it in large pieces. And as he walked behind Baldini. in a silver-powdered wig and a blue coat adorned with gold frogs. hmm. in the Faubourg Saint-Antoine. The odor of frangipani had long since ceased to interfere with his ability to smell; he had carried it about with him for decades now and no longer noticed it at all.. the two herons above the vessel. he tended the light of life??s hopes as a very small. please. a mere shred. and if his name-in contrast to the names of other gifted abominations.