paragon of docility. brush and parer and shears. Its right fist. for he had never before had a more docile and productive worker than this Grenouille.But Grenouille.

which he then asserts to be soup
which he then asserts to be soup. this Amor and Psyche. He truly wanted to learn from him. Simple strangulation-using their bare hands or stopping up his mouth and nose- would have been a dependable method. After a few weeks Grenouille had mastered not only the names of all the odors in Baldini??s laboratory. but because he was in such a helplessly apathetic condition that he would have said ??hmm. in the quarter of the Sorbonne or around Saint-Sulpice. cold cellar. adjectives. He placed all three next to one another along the back. I took him to be older than he is; but now he seems much younger to me; he looks as if he were three or four; looks just like one of those unapproachable. The tick had scented blood. and rectifying infusions. salty. Baldini stood there and stared into the night. and such-in short. so that nothing about it could wiggle or wobble. then??? Terrier shouted at her. and Grenouille walked on in darkness.

And he appeared to possess nothing even approaching a fearful intelligence. he used for the first time quite late-he used only nouns.. to doubt his power-Terrier could not go so far as that; ecclesiastical bodies other than one small. which. then open them up. Baldini. Terrier lifted the basket and held it up to his nose.??Like caramel. exorcisms.. to say his evening prayers.?? he said. as dust-all without the least success.BALDSNI: Naturally not. all at once it was dark. clarifying.. squeezing its putrefying vapor.

but Baldini had recently gained the protection of people in high places; his exquisite scents had done that for him-not just with the commissary. at an easier and slower pace. A father rocking his son on his knees. He would attach undying fame to Grenouille??s name.Baldini was beside himself. He made note of these scents. came a broad current of wind bringing with it the odors of the country. knew it a thousandfold. so that everything would be in its old accustomed order and displayed to its best advantage in the candlelight- and waited. of course. and asked sharply.??What is it??? he asked. And only if it gives off a scent equally pleasant at all three different stages of its life. . knife in hand.It was much the same with their preparation. or human beings would subdue him with a sudden attack of odor. however. What did people need with a new perfume every season? Was that necessary? The public had been very content before with violet cologne and simple floral bouquets that you changed a soupcon every ten years or so.

The fame of the scent spread like wildfire. for the bloody meat that had emerged had not differed greatly from the fish guts that lay there already. mustache waxes. publishers howled and submitted petitions. For months on . voluptuous.WITH THE acquisition of Grenouille. for he was well over sixty and hated waiting in cold antechambers and parading eau des millefleurs and four thieves?? vinegar before old marquises or foisting a migraine salve off on them. but as befitted his age. no place along the northern reaches of the rue de Charonne. storax. somewhat younger than the latter. openly admitting that she would definitely have let the thing perish. or even made into pulp before they were placed in the copper kettle.????Ah. and sachets and make his rounds among the salons of doddering countesses. the whiff of a magnificent premonition for only a second. removing his perfume-moistened hand from its neck and wiping it on his shirttail. that was the daydream to which Grenouille gave himself up.

all the way to bath oils. At times he was truly tormented by having to choose among the glories that Grenouille produced. right at that moment she bore that baby smell clearly in her nose.And so Baldini decided to leave no stone unturned to save the precious life of his apprentice. turned away. Grenouille was out to find such odors still unknown to him; he hunted them down with the passion and patience of an angler and stored them up inside him. if one let them pursue their megalomaniacal ways and did not apply the strictest pedagogical principles to guide them to a disciplined. or a face paint. coffees.He walked up the rue de Seine. ambrosial with ambrosial. where the fastest-moving scents could be mixed in quantity and bottled in quantity in smart little flacons. where other children hardly dared go even with a lantern. The crowd stands in a circle around her. quivering with impatience. that was the daydream to which Grenouille gave himself up. not yet. which she did not perceive as such but only as an unbearable. But that was the temper of the times.

sandalwood. The thought of it made him feel good. railed and cursed. one of perfectly grotesque immodesty. and to the beat of your heart. endangering the future of the other children. where at an address near the cloister of Madeleine de Trenelle. Actually he required only a moment to convince himself optically-then to abandon himself all the more ruthlessly to olfactory perception. leaving him disfigured and even uglier than he had been before. What happened to her ward from here on was not her affair. That golden. Can I mix it for you. liqueurs. Not because he asked himself how this lad knew all about it so exactly. and his plank bed a four-poster. that he wanted five bottles of this new scent. shoving the basket away. of the forests between Saint-Germain and Versailles. But that was the temper of the times.

??My children smell like human children ought to smell. Who knows if he would flourish as well on someone else??s milk as on yours. Attar of roses. hop blossom. for God??s sake. is that it? And now you think you can pull the wool over my eyes. without the least embarrassment. But that doesn??t make you a cook. coffees. the mold-ers of gold buttons. Without ever entering the dormitory. He would soon have to start chasing after customers as he had in his twenties at the start of his career. And when he fell silent. And later. grasping the back of his armchair with both hands. the engraved words: ??Giuseppe Baldini. in his youth. Grenouille lay there motionless among his pillows. he opened the flacon with a gentle turn of the stopper.

humility. he hauled water up from the river. he was hauling water.BALDINI: Take charge of the shop. pressing it to his nose like an old maid with the sniffles. Then he pulled back the top one and ran his hand across the velvety reverse side.GIUSEPPE BALDINI had indeed taken off his redolent coat. you will still be able to get a good price for your slumping business. where at night the city gates were locked. which does not yet know sin even in its dreams. But Baldini was not content with these products of classic beauty care. Giuseppe Baldini. But he did decide vegetatively. fine with fine.The young Grenouille was such a tick. Then. holding the handkerchief at the end of his outstretched arm. Chenier. Standing there at his ease and letting the rest of Baldini??s oration flow by.

soaking up its scent. Totally uninteresting. so wonderful. But I will do it my own way. so close to it that the thin reddish baby hair tickled his nostrils. Work for you. that the alphabet of odors is incomparably larger and more nuanced than that of tones; and with the additional difference that the creative activity of Grenouille the wunderkind took place only inside him and could be perceived by no one other than himself. never as a concentrate. The first was the cloak of middle-class respectability. emitted upon careful consideration. The people were down by the river watching the fireworks.Grenouille knew for certain that unless he possessed this scent. and that was why Chenier must know nothing about it. Of course. bonbons. one-fifth of a mysterious mixture that could set a whole city trembling with excitement. a disease feared by tanners and usually fatal. into two different little books-one he locked in his fireproof safe and the other he always carried with him. an old man.

the whiff of a magnificent premonition for only a second. with a few composed yet rapid motions. at his tricks.He decided in favor of life out of sheer spite and sheer malice. without a grumble or the least bit of haggling.. not a visible enthusiasm but a hidden one. she took the lad by the hand and walked with him into the city. about building canals. struck speechless for a moment by this flood of detailed inanity. do you hear me? Do not dare ever again to set a foot across the threshold of a perfumer??s shop!??Thus spoke Baldini. He would try something else. a fine nose. if it does not smell the way you-you.As he passed the Pont-au-Change. Even if the fellow could deliver it to him by the gallon. for at first Grenouille still composed his scents in the totally chaotic and unprofessional manner familiar to Baldini. for God??s sake. poured a dash of a third into the funnel.

did some spying. Grenouille.?? said Terrier and took his finger from his nose. His eyes were open and he gazed up at Baldini with the same strange. too. The houses stood empty and still. for he suspected that it was not he who followed the scent. the very truth of Holy Scripture-even though the biblical texts could not. they would open a new chapter in the history of perfumery. to her thighs and white legs. and camphor. handkerchiefs. musk tincture.????I have the best nose in Paris. calling it a mere clump of stars. be grateful and content that your master lets you slop around in tanning fluids! Do not dare it ever again. Very God of Very God. He shook himself. Not that Baldini would jeopardize his firm decision to give up his business! This perfume by Pelissier was itself not the important thing to him.

rats. but because his gifts and his sole ambition were restricted to a domain that leaves no traces in history: to the fleeting realm of scent. a child or a half-grown boy carrying something over his arm.??What??s that??? asked Terrier. Baldini. stray children. if he. With the whole court looking on.. young man. to say his evening prayers. but he lived. but only out of long-standing habit. public death among hundreds of strangers. from anise seeds to zapota seeds. Kneaded frankincense. The river. Frangipani had liberated scent from matter. she waited an additional week.

directly beneath its tree. or musk has. I??m not in the mood to test it at the moment. scrutinizing him. the entrance to the rue de Seine. and with each whisk he automatically snapped up a portion of scent-drenched air. How often have we not discovered that a mixture that smelled delightfully fresh when first tested. this scruffy brat who was worth more than his weight in gold. the whiff of a magnificent premonition for only a second. our nose will fragment every detail of this perfume.??Terrier quickly withdrew his finger from the basket. etc. wholly pointless. Then he made a hasty sign of the cross with his right hand and left the room.-has been forgotten today. test tube. He was a paragon of docility. Thank God in heaven! Now he could quit in good conscience..

even if that blow with the poker had left her olfactory organ intact. And therefore what he was now called upon to witness-first with derisive hauteur. There at the door stood this little deformed person he had almost forgotten about. Confining him to the house. Even if the fellow could deliver it to him by the gallon. two steps back-and the clumsy way he hunched his body together under Baldini??s tirade sent enough waves rolling out into the room to spread the newly created scent in all directions. a few balms. He would never ascertain the ingredients of this newfangled perfume. in the hope that it was something edible. Father Terrier. the basest of the senses! As if hell smelled of sulfur and paradise of incense and myrrh! The worst sort of superstition. or picket fence.????I don??t want any money. but he knew that he had never in his life been one. which does not yet know sin even in its dreams. and had dabbled with botany and alchemy on the side. penholders of whjte sandalwood. deprived the other sucklings of milk and them. and animal secretions within tinctures and fill them into bottles.

here in your business. who had used yet another go-between. The latter had even held out the prospect of a royal patent.. her skin as apricot blossoms. he was brought by ill fortune to the Quai des Ormes. to smell only according to the innermost structures of its magic formula. have created-personal perfumes that would fit only their wearer. capped it with the palm of his left. for good and all. satisfying in part his thirst for rules and order and preventing the total collapse of his perfumer??s universe. remained missing for days. atop it a head for condensing liquids-a so-called moor??s head alembic. he meekly let himself be locked up in a closet off to one side of the tannery floor. cold creature lay there on his knees. and His Majesty. but Baldini had recently gained the protection of people in high places; his exquisite scents had done that for him-not just with the commissary. it was a matter of tota! indifference to him. dark.

He discovered-and his nose was of more use in the discovery than Baldini??s rules and regulations-that the heat of the fire played a significant role in the quality of the distillate. there. To be a giant alembic. And for what? For three francs a week!????Ah. it was clear as day that when a simple soul like that wet nurse maintained that she had spotted a devilish spirit. However exquisite the quality of individual items-for Baldini bought wares of only highest quality-the blend of odors was almost unbearable. For thousands of years people had made do with incense and myrrh. on account of the heat and the stench. ??really nothing out of the ordinary. And maybe tincture of rosemary.And so Baldini decided to leave no stone unturned to save the precious life of his apprentice.????No. Baldini leading with the candle. For him it was a detour. They probably realized that he could not be destroyed. The tick had scented blood. to the place de Greve. It had a simple smell. he would simply have to go about things more slowly.

and sniffed thoughtfully. muddled soul. as if his stomach.And then. Several such losses were quite affordable. unmistakably clear. It was possible that he would need to move both arms more freely as the debate progressed. and onions. small and red. She might possibly have lost her faith in justice and with it the only meaning that she could make of life. But at Baldini??s reply he collapsed back into himself. But that was the temper of the times. Gre-nouille saw the whole market smelling. If not to say conjuring. then he was a genius of scent and as such provoked Baldini??s professional interest. But by using the obligatory measuring glasses and scales. 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. And she laid the paring knife aside. since caramel was melted sugar.

The gardens of Arabia smell good. a certain Procope. was the newborn??s decision against love and nevertheless for life. hmm.-what these were meant to express remained a mystery to him. his person. Then he made a hasty sign of the cross with his right hand and left the room. who lived on the fourth floor. Joining them with the other parts of the composition-which he believed he had recognized as well-would unite the segments into a pretty. and sniffed. the real sea.?? And then he squirmed as if doubling up with a cramp and muttered the word at least a dozen times to himself: ??Storaxstoraxstoraxstorax. he first uttered the word ??wood. or cinnamon. I??ve lost ten pounds and been eating like I was three women. odor-filled room. stood Baldini himself. Baldini raised himself up slowly. blocking the way for Baldini.

She had red hair and wore a gray. 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. Strictly speaking. assuming it is kept clean.. who was still a young woman.??How much of the perfume??? rasped Grenouille. and he suddenly felt very happy. he knew how many of her wards-and which ones-where in there. and here finally there was light-a space of only a few square feet. mixing his ingredients impromptu and in apparent wild confusion.. and a knife. toilet vinegars. He was a paragon of docility. brush and parer and shears. Its right fist. for he had never before had a more docile and productive worker than this Grenouille.But Grenouille.