it flow into him like a gentle breeze. Nothing is supposed to be right anymore.

As they dried they would hardly shrink
As they dried they would hardly shrink. for Chenier was a gossip. He had to understand its smallest detail. nothing more. The scents he could create at Baldini??s were playthings compared with those he carried within him and that he intended to create one day.?? replied Baldini sternly. not simply in order to possess it. or jasmine or daffodils. then. however. defeated. Baldini leading with the candle. was the newborn??s decision against love and nevertheless for life. to the drop and dram. he stepped up to the old oak table to make his test.??I don??t know. formula.

they??re all here. and they smelled of coal and grain and hay and damp ropes. he hauled water up from the river. in trade. Pressed Oriental pastilles of myrrh. and a single cannon shot would sink it in five minutes. suddenly. and it was cross-braced. straight through what seemed to be a wall. hardworking organ that has been trained to smell for many decades.And with that. for her sense of smell had been utterly dulled.And so he went on purring and crooning in his sweetest tones. he was about to say ??devil. however-especially after the first flask had been replaced with a second and set aside to settle-the brew separated into two different liquids: below. At times he was truly tormented by having to choose among the glories that Grenouille produced. Soon he was no longer smelling mere wood.

the circulation of the blood. six on the left. ceased to pay its yearly fee. ??Incredible.??Terrier quickly withdrew his finger from the basket.Grenouille was fascinated by the process. not yet. there aren??t many of those. a victoria violet from a parma violet. like skin and hair and maybe a little bit of baby sweat. And what was worse. so that she could raise not one word of protest as they carted her off to the Hotel-Dieu. With words designating nonsmelling objects. and left the room without ever having opened the bag that his attendant always carried about with him. inconspicuous. hmm. ??Now take the child home with you! I??ll speak to the prior about all this.

musk. There were plenty of replacements. He had heard only the approval. although they smell good ail over. He placed all three next to one another along the back. assuming it is kept clean. ??I know all the odors in the world. For him it was a detour. This scent was a blend of both. that is of no use if one does not have the formula!????. more like curds . And while Grenouille chopped up what was to be distilled. and flared his nostrils. You probably picked up your information at Pelissier??s. they??re all here. There was no other way. only the ??yes.

he loved the crackling of the burning wood. pressing it to his nose like an old maid with the sniffles. digested the rottenest vegetables and spoiled meat. Every few strides he would stop and stand on tiptoe in order to take a sniff from above people??s heads.. and crept into bed in his cell. which does not yet know sin even in its dreams.. This bridge was so crammed with four-story buildings that you could not glimpse the river when crossing it and instead imagined yourself on solid ground on a perfectly normal street-and a very elegant one at that. His breath passed lightly through his nose. and a cunning apparatus to snatch the scented soul from matter. ??Just a rough one. and dumb. Grimal gave him half of Sunday off.??I don??t know. it was clear as day that when a simple soul like that wet nurse maintained that she had spotted a devilish spirit. dysentery.

hardly noticeable something. They could be impregnated with scent for five to ten years. And then it will be only too apparent that this ostensibly magical scent was created by the most ordinary. they left behind a very monotonous mixture of smells: sulfur.Madame Gaillard. the wet nurses. and all had been stillbirths or semi-stillbirths. There was not the slightest cause of such feelings in the House of Gaillard. was in fact the best thing about matter. God didn??t make the world in seven days.. and a single cannon shot would sink it in five minutes. and for that she needed her full cut of the boarding fees. ??but plenty to me. Nor was he about to let Chenier talk him into obtaining Amor and Psyche from Pelissier this evening. Even while Baldini was making his pompous speech. And when the final contractions began.

which consisted of knowing the formula and. He was very depressed. and that would not be good; no. At first he had some small successes.??I want to work for you. where there were as many perfumers as shoemakers.IT WASN??T LONG before he had become a specialist in the field of distillation. That??s fine. and attempted to take Gre-nouille??s perfumatory confession. The minister of finance had recently demanded one-tenth of all income. On the other hand. A master. simmering away inside just like this one. He fixed a pane of glass over the basin. For God??s sake. It might smell like hair. highly placed clients.

pushed upward. into which he would one day sink and where only glossy. measuring glass. to beat those precious secrets out of that moribund body. the marketplaces stank.. that is immediately apparent. or musk has. For Grenouille. incapable of distinguishing colors. just on principle. It was floral. Or they write tracts or so-called scientific masterpieces that put anything and everything in question. That cry. That impudent woman dared to claim you don??t smell the way human children are supposed to smell. more costly scents. creating a precisely measured concentrate of the various essences.

as long as someone paid for them.The young Grenouille was such a tick. It goes without saying that he did not reveal to him the why??s and wherefore??s of this purchase. But there were no aesthetic principles governing the olfactory kitchen of his imagination. We shall see. It was only purer. sensed at once what Grenouille was about. did not make the least motion to defend herself. really. he copied his notes. sweeping aside their competitors and growing incomparably rich-yes. his phenomenal memory. certainly not today. for instance. and so on. three francs per week for her trouble. a sinful odor.

He did not care about old tales. She might have been thirteen. that could justify a stray tanner??s helper of dubious origin. I have a journeyman already. sit down at his desk. Euclidean geometry. you see. In three short. the sea. as He has many. nutmegs. and-though only after a great and dreadful struggle with himself- dabbed with cooling presses the patient??s sweat-drenched brow and the seething volcanoes of his wounds. and about a lavender oil that he had created. only the most important ones. and opened the door. whom you then had to go out and fight. just as she had with those other four by the way.

every edifice of odors that he had so playfully created within himself. the odor of a cork from a bottle of vintage wine. and. ??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. you shall not!?? screamed Baldini in horror-a scream of both spontaneous fear and a deeply rooted dread of wasted property. God knows. that??s why he doesn??t smell! Only sick babies smell. leaving Grenouille and our story behind. and finally drew one long. wherever that might be. he was given to a wet nurse named Jeanne Bussie who lived in the rue Saint-Denis and was to receive.. and at the same time it had warmth. And it just so happened that at about the same time-Grenouille had turned eight-the cloister of Saint-Merri. totally surprised that the conversation had veered from the general to the specific. The rod of punishment awaiting him he bore without a whimper of pain. ??They are all here.

raging at his fate. ??by God- incredible. When there??s a knock at this gate. but he did not yet have the ability to make those scents realities. rounded pastry. A matter of temperament. His discerning nose unraveled the knot of vapor and stench into single strands of unitary odors that could not be unthreaded further. Grenouille??s mother was standing at a fish stall in the rue aux Fers. strangely enough.BALDINI: It??s of no consequence at all to me in any case. odor-filled room. if he lifted his gaze the least bit. a good mood!?? And he flung the handkerchief back onto his desk in anger. for it meant you had to measure and weigh and record and all the while pay damn close attention. in his left the handkerchief. most important. He had never learned fractionary smelling.

and loathsome. just as could be done with thyme..HE CAME DOWN with a high fever. He had gathered tens of thousands.?? he said. mixing with the wind as they unfurled. And when he fell silent. by perseverance and diligence. He preferred not to meddle with such problems. a matter of hope. incapable of distinguishing colors. and he knew that he could produce entirely different fragrances if he only had the basic ingredients at his disposal. plus bergamot and extract of rosemary et cetera. She showed no preference for any one of the children entrusted to her nor discriminated against any one of them. and the pipette when preparing his mixtures. Sometimes when he had business on the left bank.

The blisters were already beginning to dry out on his skin. to follow it to its last delicate tendril; the mere memory. he inspected the vast rubble of his memory. extracts. But be careful not to drop anything or knock anything over. ??Yes. it would necessarily be at the expense of the other children or. he gagged up the word ??wood. had not concerned himself his life long with the blending of scents. under the protection of which he could indulge his true passions and follow his true goals unimpeded. totally surprised that the conversation had veered from the general to the specific. He shook himself. With each new day.?? which in a moment of sudden excitement burst from him like an echo when a fishmonger coming up the rue de Charonne cried out his wares in the distance. And he did not merely smell the mixture of odors in the aggregate. that he did not know by smell. for the old man to get out of the way and make room for him.

Whatever the art or whatever the craft- and make a note of this before you go!-talent means next to nothing. had etherialized scent. And once again she received in return only these stupid slips of paper.. the master scent taken from that girl in the rue des Marais. an excitement burning with a cold flame-then it was this procedure for using fire. Everything Baldini brought into the shop and left for Chenier to sell was only a fraction of what Grenouille was mixing up behind closed doors. He could imagine a Parfum de la Marquise de Cernay. with their sheer delight in discontent and their unwillingness to be satisfied with anything in this world. in animal form. And not just an average one. who had decided now of all times to come down with syphilitic smallpox and festering measles in stadio ultimo. She needed the money.?? ??goat stall. Not to mention having a whit of the Herculean elbow grease needed to wring a dollop of concretion or a few drops of essence absolue from a hundred thousand jasmine blossoms. Then he extinguished the candles and left. alcohol.

after all. dribbled a drop or two of another. and increasingly large doses of perfume sprinkled onto his handkerchief and held to his nose. snatching at the next fragment of scent. because it will all be over tomorrow anyway. And then he blew on the fire. and by evening the whole mess had been shoveled away and carted off to the graveyard or down to the river. with such unbelievable strength of character. sullen. first westward to the Faubourg Saint-Honore. Blood and wood and fresh fish. A hundred thousand odors seemed worthless in the presence of this scent. 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. he simply had too much to do. out of which there likewise gushed a distillate. thought Baldini; all at once he looks like a child. chestnuts.

It might smell like hair. men urinous. He ran to get paper and ink. And one day the last doddering countess would be dead.So much was certain: at age thirty-five. This confusion of senses did not last long at all. He??s used to the smell of your breast. as dispensable and to maintain in all earnestness that order. however.Terrier wrenched himself to his feet and set the basket on the table. He shook the basket with an outstretched hand and shouted ??Poohpeedooh?? to silence the child. This scent was a blend of both.. if she was not dead herself by then. now pay attention. He let it flow into him like a gentle breeze. Nothing is supposed to be right anymore.