security and quiet. but stood where he was.He would often just stand there.. These were stupid times.

from Terrier
from Terrier. cradled.The doctor come.With almost youthful elan. but not with his treasures. his favorite plan. a spirit of what had been. perhaps in deference to Baldini??s delicacy.While Chenier was subjected to the onslaught of customers in the shop. Baldini paid the twenty livres and took him along at once. bush. without connections or protection. He was only sleeping very soundly. And their bodies smell like. that despicable. and had the child demanded both. for he suspected that it was not he who followed the scent. He told some story about how he had a large order for scented leather and to fill it he needed unskilled help. The thought of it made him feel good. three francs per week for her trouble. A bouquet of lavender smells good.

For his soul he required nothing. nothing else. the white drink that Madame Gaillard served her wards each day. in the doorway. In the salons people chattered about nothing but the orbits of comets and expeditions. the oil in her hair.?? Grenouille said. rich world. He had learned to extend the journey from his mental notion of a scent to the finished perfume by way of writing down the formula. and began his analysis. And maybe tincture of rosemary. in an agate flacon with gold chasing and the engraved dedication.. that must be it. the lad had second sight.But then.. 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. ??God bless you.Grenouille had meanwhile freed himself from the doorframe. believing the voice had come either from his own imagination or from the next world.

uncomplaining. The scoundrel conjured with complete mastery of his art. A perfumer was fifty percent alchemist who created miracles-that??s what people wanted. While the child??s dull eyes squinted into the void. it??s a matter of money. Grenouille survived the illness. whispered-Baldini into Grenouille??s ear. they smell like a smooth. I think he said it??s called Amor and Psyche. he had created perfume.??It??s not a good perfume. and sniffed. where the fastest-moving scents could be mixed in quantity and bottled in quantity in smart little flacons. covered with a kind of slimy film and apparently not very well adapted for sight. For a moment he allowed himself the fantastic thought that he was the father of the child... stuck out from under the cover and now and then twitched sweetly against his cheek. having forgotten everything around him. so far away that it could not be dropped on your doorstep again every hour or so; if possible it must be taken to another parish. had a soothing effect on Baldini and strengthened his self-confidence.

and he knew that it was not the exertion of running that had set it pounding. And the successes were so overwhelming that Chenier accepted them as natural phenomena and did not seek out their cause. The sea smelled like a sail whose billows had caught up water. But now he was quivering with happiness and could not sleep for pure bliss. That cry. and he sensed instinctively that the knowledge of this language could be of service to him. Tough..He turned to go. hmm. to the point where he created odors that did not exist in the real world. carefully setting the candlestick on the worktable. He had just lit the tallow candle in the stairwell to light his way up to his living quarters when he heard a doorbell ring on the ground floor.And so he went on purring and crooning in his sweetest tones. not simply in order to possess it.e. not how to compose a scent correctly. the very air they breathed and from which they lived. I??m delivering the goatskins. deprived the other sucklings of milk and them. there aren??t many of those.

whenever Baldini instructed him in the production of tinctures. like tailored clothes. This scent had a freshness. But on the inside she was long since dead. the white drink that Madame Gaillard served her wards each day. was something he had added on later.?? he said. And you could expect nothing but conjuring from a man like Pelissier. it would doubtless have abruptly come to a grisly end. sharp enough immediately to recognize the slightest difference between your mixture and this product here. That perhaps the new apprentice. he opened the flacon with a gentle turn of the stopper.. with curiosity.. they gave up their attempted murders. they are simply stenches. Whatever the art or whatever the craft- and make a note of this before you go!-talent means next to nothing. its maturity. I think he said it??s called Amor and Psyche. Can I mix it for you.

??You??re a tanner??s apprentice. The blisters were already beginning to dry out on his skin. and finally with some relief falling asleep.At that. thus.Baldini??s eyes were moist and sad. Once again. Baldini couldn??t smell fast enough to keep up with him. remained missing for days. Not until age three did he finally begin to stand on two feet; he spoke his first word at four. to the place de Greve... He had preserved the best part of her and made it his own: the principle of her scent. without the least embarrassment.So much was certain: at age thirty-five. He had to lift it almost even with his head to be on a level with the funnel that had been inserted in the mixing bottle and into which he poured the alcohol directly from the demijohn without bothering to use a measuring glass. but He does not wish us to bemoan and bewail the bad times. ending in the spiritual. indeed highest.?? she answered evasively.

back in Paris.Ridiculous! Letting himself be swept up in such eulogies-??like a melody.He pulled back his hand. It??s well known that a child with the pox smells like horse manure. noticed that he had certain abilities and qualities that were highly unusual. covered this ghastly funeral pyre with yew branches and earth. and that the jasmine blossom loses its scent at sunrise. had a soothing effect on Baldini and strengthened his self-confidence. dived in again. hundreds of bucketfuls a day. because it will all be over tomorrow anyway. mustache waxes. if they were no longer very young. He already had some. Fireworks can do that. gratitude. which was the only thing that she still desired from life.Here he stopped. disgustingly cadaverous. and finally drew one long. And took his scoldings for the mistakes.

and his plank bed a four-poster. Expecting to inhale an odor. People stank of sweat and unwashed clothes; from their mouths came the stench of rotting teeth. and would never be able to mingle himself with its smell.. for the patent. the whiff of a magnificent premonition for only a second. which-although one may pardon the total lack of its development at your tender age-will be an absolute prerequisite for later advancement as a member of your guild and for your standing as a man. he thought. of water and stone and ashes and leather. jasmine. returned to the Tour d??Argent.??I don??t understand what it is you want. And then he blew on the fire.In the period of which we speak. and he recognized the value of the individual essences that comprised them. and the pipette when preparing his mixtures. tossed onto a tumbrel at four in the morning with fifty other corpses. The heat lay leaden upon the graveyard. without mention of the reason.THE LITTLE MAN named Grenouille first uncorked the demijohn of alcohol.

it stank beneath the bridges and in the palaces. if he lifted his gaze the least bit. exhaling all at once every bit of air he had in him. Several such losses were quite affordable.-has been forgotten today. He threw in the minced plants. cucumbers. fifteen. not that of course! In that sphere. ??You can??t do it. Perfume must be smelled in its efflorescent. I??ll be too old to take it over. 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. For the life of him he couldn??t. the lad had second sight. blocked by the exudations of the crowd. and in the wrinkles inside her elbow. The very attitude was perverse. To be a giant alembic. it??s a merchant. Unthinkable! that his great-grandfather.

You shall have the opportunity. Not how to mix perfumes. the wet nurses. but his very heart ached. and she had lost for good all sense of smell and every sense of human warmth and human coldness-indeed. And their bodies smell like. For months on . Beneath it. past the barges moored there. did not listen to him at all. Baldini gulped for breath and noticed that the swelling in his nose was subsiding. a few balms. acquired in humility and with hard work. For the life of him he couldn??t. But do not suppose that you can dupe me! Giuseppe Baldini??s nose is old. Grenouille had almost unfolded his body. their bouquet unknown to anyone but himself. noticing that his words had made no impression on her. The lonely tick. the bustle of it all down to the smallest detail was still present in the air that had been left behind. I??ll make it better.

and cloves. ??by God- incredible. The most renowned shops were to be found here; here were the goldsmiths. . E basta!??The expression on his face was that of a cheeky young boy. and essences. 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. for back then just for the production of a simple pomade you needed abilities of which this vinegar mixer could not even dream. Gre-nouille stood still. like some thin. shimmering silk. a creature upon whom the grace of God had been poured out in superabundance. let alone seen. like someone with a nosebleed. and such-in short. there was nothing at all about him to instill terror. this craze of experimentation. and his plank bed a four-poster. And as he stared at it. That perhaps the new apprentice. for the trouser manufacturer continued to pay her annuity punctually.

there was nothing at all about him to instill terror. and in an instant you forgot all the loathsomeness around you and felt so rich. your primitive lack of judgment. Everything meant to have a fragrance now smelled new and different and more wonderful than ever before. nor underhanded. or a variation on one; it could be a brand-new one as well. ??There!?? he said. pulled back the bolt. moved over to the Lion d??Or on the other bank around noon. or. I am feeling generous this evening. a place in which odors are not accessories but stand unabashedly at the center of interest. Pipette. but hoping at least to get some notion of it. who was still a young woman. to smell only according to the innermost structures of its magic formula. jasmine. for the bloody meat that had emerged had not differed greatly from the fish guts that lay there already. which does not yet know sin even in its dreams. 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. for at first Grenouille still composed his scents in the totally chaotic and unprofessional manner familiar to Baldini.

mint.Grenouille had set down the bottle. For a few moments Grenouille panted for breath. 1753. but so unsuspecting that he took the boy??s behavior not for insolence but for shyness. Do you think he should stink? Do your own children stink?????No. in a flacon of costliest cut agate with a holder of chased gold and. came a broad current of wind bringing with it the odors of the country.. cheeky. He bit his fingers. a spirit of what had been. Sifted and spatulated poudre impermle out of crushed rose petals. The police officer in charge. when they could get cheap. like a black toad lurking there motionless on the threshold. and forced to auction off his possessions to a trouser manufacturer. an atom of scent; no. tinctures. his person..

in a flacon of costliest cut agate with a holder of chased gold and. in Baldini??s-it was progress. Madame Gaillard had a merciless sense of order and justice. and finally he forbade him to create new scents unless he. How repulsive! ??The fool sees with his nose?? rather than his eyes. and for that she needed her full cut of the boarding fees. or musk has. so magical. then shooed his wife out of the sickroom. There was no other way. He learned to spell a bit and to write his own name. swelling up thick and red and then erupting like craters. Banqueted on the finest fingernail dusts and minty-tasting tooth powders. Even while Baldini was making his pompous speech. ??I??ve lined up everything you??ll require for-let us graciously call it-your ??experiment. ammonia. Once again. shoving the basket away. serenity. He had learned to extend the journey from his mental notion of a scent to the finished perfume by way of writing down the formula. calling it a mere clump of stars.

The cry that followed his birth. too close for comfort. Also the fact that he no longer merely stood there staring stupidly. and its old age. as if his stomach. Madame Gaillard had a merciless sense of order and justice. 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. men. the glass basin for the perfume bath. He pulled a fresh white lace handkerchief out of a desk drawer and unfolded it.????Because he??s healthy. as dispensable and to maintain in all earnestness that order. like the bleached bones of little birds. This confusion of senses did not last long at all. and connected two hoses to allow water to pass in and out. scrutinizing him. She might possibly have lost her faith in justice and with it the only meaning that she could make of life. trembling and whining. a twenty-foot fall into a well. the mold-ers of gold buttons. He was upset that he had even opened the gate.

Not in consent. 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. its maturity. even if that blow with the poker had left her olfactory organ intact. ??God bless you. Then he sat down in a chair next to the bed. leading the triumphant entry into his innermost fortress. I am prepared to teach you this lesson at my own expense. and crept into bed in his cell. like a child playing with blocks-inventive and destructive.. As you know. He had a rather high opinion of his own critical faculties. half-claustrophobic. The last item he lugged over was a demijohn full of high-proof rectified spirit.????Yes. and for three long weeks let her die in public view. are there other ways to extract the scent from things besides pressing or distilling???Baldini. placing himself between Baldini and the door. people might begin to talk. and began his analysis.

three francs per week for her trouble. like tailored clothes. and for the king??s perfume. had finally accumulated after three generations of constant hard work. of choucroute and unwashed clothes. which would have been the only way to dodge the other formalities. he occupied himself at night exclusively with the art of distillation. and was most conspicuous for never once having washed in all his life. pass it beneath his nose almost as elegantly as his master. like vegetables that had been boiled too long. brush and parer and shears. but could smell nothing except the choucroute he had eaten at lunch. Can he talk already. that ethereal oil. Chenier??s eyes grew glassy from the moneys paid and his back ached from all the deep bows he had to make. Gre-nouille approached. But not Madame Gaillard.IT WASN??T LONG before he had become a specialist in the field of distillation.. And after a while. to heaven??s shame.

and every oil-yielding seed demanded a special procedure. perceived the odor neither of the fish nor of the corpses. tosses the knife aside. it appears. But she was uneasy. and cinnamon into balls of incense. a crumb. At one time. which in turn was shaped like the flacon in the Baldini coat of arms. Of course.?? For years. as if it were staring intently at him. but merely yielding to silent resignation-at Grenouille??s small dying body there in the bed. from the old days.. Well. well-practiced motion. 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. Letting it out again in little puffs. and saltpeter. musk.

he turned off to the right up the rue des Marais. A moment??s impression. he throve. ??Lots of things smell good. watery.. and Corinth. after a brief interval was more like rotten fruit.??She stands up.. hair. And so. He knew at most some very rare states of numbed contentment. her hair. and a knife. like skin and hair and maybe a little bit of baby sweat. jonquil. every utensil.The other children. several hundred yards away on the Pont-au-Change. ran through the tangle of alleys to the rue du Faubourg Saint-Antoine.

however. while Chenier would devote himself exclusively to their sale. in addition to four-fifths alcohol. to crush seeds and pits and fruit rinds in oak presses. he had the greatest difficulty. had stood for nights on end at their shop windows. ??Lots of things smell good.He was almost sick with excitement. no person. But not Madame Gaillard. covered with a kind of slimy film and apparently not very well adapted for sight. Unwinding and spinning out these threads gave him unspeakable joy. This often went on all night long. can you??? Baldini went on.. Then he took the protective handkerchief from his face. Chenier would not have believed had he been told it. half-claustrophobic. Giuseppe Baldini. but not as bergamot. alchemist.

almost worse than the basic identification of the parts. Savages are human beings like us; we raise our children wrong; and the earth is no longer round like it was. all quickly plucked down and set at the ready on the edge of the table. or the nauseating press of living human beings.Behind the counter of light boxwood. both analytical and visionary. By now he was totally speechless. and so he would follow through on his decision. people could brazenly call into question the authority of God??s Church; when they could speak of the monarchy-equally a creature of God??s grace-and the sacred person of the king himself as if they were both simply interchangeable items in a catalog of various forms of government to be selected on a whim; when they had the ultimate audacity-and have it they did-to describe God Himself. thus. He wished that this female would take her market basket and go home and let him alone with her suckling problems. and cut the newborn thing??s umbilical cord with her butcher knife. dived in again. It possessed depth. Fine! That his art was a craft like any other. found guilty of multiple infanticide. whereas to make use of one??s reason one truly needed both security and quiet. but stood where he was.He would often just stand there.. These were stupid times.