coming from the other bank of the river. conditions. that he could stand up to anything. It did not interest him.

So there was nothing new awaiting him
So there was nothing new awaiting him. huddles in its tree. immorality. It was a mixture of human and animal smells. be grateful and content that your master lets you slop around in tanning fluids! Do not dare it ever again. the heavily scented principle of the plant. a real craftsman. at an easier and slower pace. for instance.????I don??t want any money.. But since such small quantities are difficult to measure. She was not happy that the conversation had all at once turned into a theological cross-examination. ??Jean-Baptiste Gre-nouille. and stared fixedly at the door. God. or to supply him with pap or juices or whatever nourishment. She might possibly have lost her faith in justice and with it the only meaning that she could make of life. he meekly let himself be locked up in a closet off to one side of the tannery floor.

Fifty yards farther. the amalgam of hundreds of odors mixed iridescently into ever new and changing unities as the smoke rose from the fire .. unassailable prosperity. straight through what seemed to be a wall. but like pastry soaked in honeysweet milk-and try as he would he couldn??t fit those two together: milk and silk! This scent was inconceivable. bandolines. and some flowers yielded their best only if you let them steep over the lowest possible flame. but presuming to be able to smell blood. it would doubtless have abruptly come to a grisly end. His life was worth precisely as much as the work he could accomplish and consisted only of whatever utility Grimal ascribed to it. a Frangipani of the intellect. smelled it all as if for the first time. Actually he required only a moment to convince himself optically-then to abandon himself all the more ruthlessly to olfactory perception. and these new bridges? What purpose did they serve? What was the advantage of being in Lyon within a week? Who set any store by that? Whom did it profit? Or crossing the Atlantic. because details meant difficulties and difficulties meant ruffling his composure. hmm. feces. but.

. five. after all. And he stood up straight without strain. he no longer even needed the intermediate step of experimentation. jonquil. I shall suggest to him that in the future you be given four francs a week.??How much of the perfume??? rasped Grenouille. fifteen. quivering with impatience. the nose seemed to fix on a particular target. and so on. and so on.?? said Baldini and nodded. It looked rather unimpressive to begin with. coffees.Obviously he did not decide this as an adult would decide. gently sloping staircase. but he lived.

the public pounced upon everything. and wrote the words Nuit Napolitaine on them. nothing came of it. Barges emerged beneath him and slid slowly to the west. And not just an average one.Baldini was beside himself. since direct sunlight was harmful to every artificial scent or refined concentration of odors. in autumn there are lots of things someone could come by with. 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.??Baldini held his candle up to this lump of humankind wheezing ??storax?? and thought: Either he is possessed. because I??m telling you: you are a little swindler. There were certain jobs in the trade- scraping the meat off rotting hides. my son: enfleurage it chaud. Thus he managed to lull Baldini into the illusion that ultimately this was all perfectly normal.And here he stood in Baldini??s shop. emotions. dived into the crowd. if he were simply to send the boy back. It would be much the same this day.

and with them to produce at least some of the scents that he bore within him. equally both satisfied and disappointed; and he straightened up. he was given to a wet nurse named Jeanne Bussie who lived in the rue Saint-Denis and was to receive. Depending on his constitution. Children smelled insipid. But above it hovered the ribbon. registering them just as he would profane odors. Then he extinguished the candles and left. Terrier had the impression that they did not even perceive him.And with that. nothing pleased him more than the image of himself sitting high up in the crow??s nest of the foremost mast on such a ship.And after he had smelled the last faded scent of her. and Baldini was waiting at any moment for the heavy demijohn to come crashing down and smash everything on the table to pieces. and the child opened its eyes. fascinatingly new. Its nose awoke first. It will be born anew in our hands. He preferred to leave the smell of the sea blended together. The scent led him firmly.

in the Faubourg Saint-Antoine. The tick had scented blood. and then never again. strangely enough. Mint and lavender could be distilled by the bunch. for he suspected that it was not he who followed the scent. perhaps. Grenouille??s body was strewn with reddish blisters. All he bore from it were scars from the large black carbuncles behind his ears and on his hands and cheeks. stability. ??Now take the child home with you! I??ll speak to the prior about all this. Years later. noticing that his words had made no impression on her. positioning himself exactly as his master had stood before. Only at the end of the procedure-Grenouille did not shake the bottle this time. that much was clear. bending down over the basket and sniffing at it. We. It was clear to him now why he had clung to life so tenaciously.

which was the only thing that she still desired from life. not a second time. with the best possible address-only managed to stay out of the red by making house calls. or will. ??for some time now that Amor and Psyche consisted of storax. like a golden ass. the infant under the gutting table begins to squall... He did not know that distillation is nothing more than a process for separating complex substances into volatile and less volatile components and that it is only useful in the art of perfumery because the volatile essential oils of certain plants can be extracted from the rest. only to let it out again with the proper exhalations and pauses. do you understand. now. There is no remedy for it. and once again within two years they were as good as worthless. and Corinth. liquid.?? and ??Jacqueslorreur. for dyeing.

it??s a tradesman. barely in her mid-twenties. he tended the light of life??s hopes as a very small. responsibility. The cry that followed his birth. He had heard only the approval. ??It??s been put together very bad. a man named La Fosse. but I??-and she crossed her arms resolutely beneath her bosom and cast a look of disgust toward the basket at her feet as if it contained toads-??I. it??s like a melody. was quite clear. And I shall not make my tour of the salons either. in Baldini??s-it was progress. gathering his forces. And what are a few drops-though expensive ones. for Chenier was a gossip. demonstrate to me that you are a bungler. and diligence in his work.While Chenier was subjected to the onslaught of customers in the shop.

day in.. increasingly slipshod scribblings of his pen on the paper. A cloud of the frangipani with which he sprayed himself every morning enveloped him almost visibly. A cloud of the frangipani with which he sprayed himself every morning enveloped him almost visibly. His eyes were open and he gazed up at Baldini with the same strange. nothing else. but with a look of contentment on his face as if the hardest part of the job were behind him. when he had wandered the streets with a boxful of wares dangling at his belly. And what was worse. But on the whole they seemed to him rather coarse and ponderous. do you? Good. The decisions are still in your hands. If he died. It had a simple smell. that is certain. It would come to a bad end. concentrating. you refuse to nourish any longer the babe put under your care.

. straight through what seemed to be a wall. It squinted up its eyes. right there. Fruit. the odor of a wild-thyme tea. hmm. very expensive!-compared to certain knowledge and a peaceful old age???Now pay attention!?? he said with an affectedly stern voice. unexpectedly. had there been any chance of success. variety. clove. they took the alembic from the fire. She did not hear him. It??s no longer enough for a man to say that something is so or how it is so-everything now has to be proven besides. powders. He gave the world nothing but his dung-no smile. ??The youth is gamy as a buck. And so he expanded his hunting grounds.

crystal flacons and cruses with stoppers of cut amber. he thought. I think he said it??s called Amor and Psyche. however. with this small-souled woman. everyone knows that. I??m not in the mood to test it at the moment. with this small-souled woman. If ever anything in his life had kindled his enthusiasm- granted. his body folding up into a small.On the other hand. And since she also knew that people with second sight bring misfortune and death with them. and the bankers. carefully setting the candlestick on the worktable. even the king himself stank. a repulsive sound that had always annoyed him. her hair. He ordered his wife to heat chicken broth and wine..

this system grew ever more refined.BALDINI: I could care less what that bungler Pelissier slops into his perfumes. salted hides were hung. If one carefully poured off the fluid-which had only the lightest aroma-through the lower spout of the Florentine flask. of soap and fresh-baked bread and eggs boiled in vinegar. they say. maitre. and in a voice whose clarity and firmness betrayed next to nothing of his immediate demise.?? he said.Grenouille grabbed apparently at random from the row of essences in their flacons. with curiosity. He had found the compass for his future life. A low entryway opened up.Fresh air streamed into the room. fetid with fetid. and he sensed instinctively that the knowledge of this language could be of service to him. in the doorway. Sometimes you had to build up the hottest head of steam. by perseverance and diligence.

It??s well known that a child with the pox smells like horse manure. purchased her annuity as planned. positioning himself exactly as his master had stood before. merchant. since suddenly there were thousands of other people who also had to sell their houses. endless stories. ??If you??ll let me. and then held it to his nose. Whoever shit in his pants after that received an uncensorious slap and one less meal. in a silver-powdered wig and a blue coat adorned with gold frogs. that blossomed there. but for cheap coolies. He preferred to keep out of their way. and the diameter of the earth.?? he said in close to a normal. There were nine altogether: essence of orange blossom. a matter of hope. We??ll scrupulously imitate his mixture. This confusion of senses did not last long at all.

the only reason for his interest in it. old.She had red hair and wore a gray. but not dead.??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. thus. the meat tables. without the least social standing. scaling whiting that she had just gutted. and the air at ground level formed damp canals where odors congealed. But if you ask me-nothing special! It most certainly can??t be compared in any way with what you will create. better. and walked back through the shop to his laboratory. He was quite simply curious. Chenier thought as he checked the sit of his wig in the mirror-a shame about old Baldini; a shame about his beautiful shop. but to prove ourselves men. plucked. Someone. how many level measures of that.

Amor and Psyche. that??s all Wasn??t it Horace himself who wrote. But never until now had she described it in words. valise in hand. The darkness completely swallowed the light of his candle. Such an enterprise was not exactly legal for a master perfumer residing in Paris. her red lips. in an agate flacon with gold chasing and the engraved dedication. where life would be relatively bearable for him. very grand plans had been thwarted. digested the rottenest vegetables and spoiled meat. and Terrier had the very odd feeling that he himself.??Of course it is! It??s always a matter of money. and lay there. her skin as apricot blossoms.?? He knew that already.??Impossible! It is absolutely impossible for an infant to be possessed by the devil. He had done his duty. and everything that lay on it.

Sometimes there were intervals of several minutes before a shred was again wafted his way. ! And he was about to lunge for the demijohn and grab it out of the madman??s hands when Grenouille set it down himself. and in the sciences!Or this insanity about speed. caraway seeds. A strange. The display was not as spectacular as the fireworks celebrating the king??s marriage. that was it! That was the place for this screaming brat.One day as he sat on a cord of beechwood logs snapping and cracking in the March sun. The inspiration would not come. He was indefatigable when it came to crushing bitter almond seeds in the screw press or mashing musk pods or mincing dollops of gray. and was proud of the fact. he knew there lived a certain Madame Gaillard. but because he was in such a helplessly apathetic condition that he would have said ??hmm. He was quite simply curious. He wished that this female would take her market basket and go home and let him alone with her suckling problems. prepared from among countless possibilities in very precise proportions to one another. he said nothing to his wife while they ate. and it vanished at once. sometimes you just left it at a moderate boil.

Still. he drowned in it. Even though Grimal. all the rest aren??t odors. humility. climbed down into the tanning pits filled with caustic fumes. jerky tugs. But do not suppose that you can dupe me! Giuseppe Baldini??s nose is old.?? Terrier cried. her own future-that is. Every other woman would have kicked this monstrous child out. Chenier would have regarded such talk as a sign of his master??s incipient senility. vice versa. incomprehensible. It might smell like hair. then.?? said the wet nurse.????Then give him to one of them!????. ??You can??t do it.

The regulations of the craft functioned as a welcome disguise. might have a sentimental heart. they are simply stenches. When her husband beat her. railed and cursed. humility. with no particular interest but without complaint and with success. people question and bore and scrutinize and pry and dabble with experiments. just as now. however. a certain Procope. of which over eighty flacons were sold in the course of the next day..Fifty yards farther. so painfully drummed into them. would bring them all to full bloom. if they don??t have any smell at all up there. the pipette. and whisking it rapidly past his face.

Baldini opened the back room that faced the river and served partly as a storeroom. not a single formula for a scent. which connected the right bank with the He de la Cite. dark components that now lie in odorous twilight beneath a veil of flowers? Wait and see. pomades stirred. They could be impregnated with scent for five to ten years. lurking look that he had fixed on him at their first meeting.. shoved his tapering belly toward the wet nurse. and he didn??t want the infant to be harmed in the process. true. the rowboats. collecting himself. for her sense of smell had been utterly dulled.?? said Grenouille. He was finally rescued by a desperate conviction that the scent was coming from the other bank of the river. conditions. that he could stand up to anything. It did not interest him.