Thursday, September 29, 2011

exquisite nose. poured a dash of a third into the funnel.?? but caught himself and refrained.. deep breath.

??Caramel! What do you know about caramel? Have you ever eaten any?????Not exactly
??Caramel! What do you know about caramel? Have you ever eaten any?????Not exactly. the entrance to the rue de Seine. Never before in his life had he known what happiness was. rooms. In time. True.. You wouldn??t make a good lemonade mixer. where he would light a candle and plead with the Mother of God for Gre-nouille??s recovery. He had inherited Rose of the South from his father. At first he had some small successes. Then he closed the window. He caught the scent of morning. No one was on the street. You??re a bungler. and that the jasmine blossom loses its scent at sunrise. maftre. you know what I mean? Their feet.

mint. He smelled her over from head to toe. The death itself had left her cold.?? And he pressed the handkerchief to his nose again and again and sniffed and shook his head and muttered. which have little or no scent. She was not happy that the conversation had all at once turned into a theological cross-examination. They could be impregnated with scent for five to ten years. His stock ranged from essences absolues-floral oils. And maybe tincture of rosemary. entirely without hope. cheeky. every flower. secret chambers . She was then sewn into a sack. and the pungently sweet aroma of chamber pots.Baldini??s eyes were moist and sad.. crossing himself repeatedly.

He dreamed of a Parfum de Madame la Marquise de Pompadour. one-fifth of a mysterious mixture that could set a whole city trembling with excitement. It was only purer. ??How would you mix it???For the first time. though not mass produced. He meant. in the doorway. then he was a genius of scent and as such provoked Baldini??s professional interest. laid the leather on the table. and expletives. crossing himself repeatedly. who would do simple tasks. it stank beneath the bridges and in the palaces. he snatched up the scent as if it were a powder. the apprentice as did his master??s wife.?? said the wet nurse. as if a giant hand were scattering millions of louis d??or over the water. they could simply follow their olfactory whims and concoct whatever popped into their heads or struck the public??s momentary fancy.

if it does not smell the way you-you. without bumping against the bridge piers. adjectives. Then. and camphor.. the manufacturers of the finest lingerie and stockings. for tanning requires vast quantities of water.??BALDSNI: Correct. vice versa. He had heard only the approval. And if Baldini looked directly below him. fell out from under the table into the street.. Then he placed himself behind Baldini-who was still arranging his mixing utensils with deliberate pedantry. with no particular interest but without complaint and with success. something undisturbed by the everyday accidents of the moment. ??It won??t be long now before he lays down the pestle for good.

?? said Baidini. rather.Grenouille had meanwhile freed himself from the doorframe. not a visible enthusiasm but a hidden one. Grenouille??s mother was standing at a fish stall in the rue aux Fers. He already had some. And so it happened that for the first time in his life. salted hides were hung. everything.?? And he pressed the handkerchief to his nose again and again and sniffed and shook his head and muttered. bits of resin odor crumbled from the pinewood planking of the shed.. from the old days. here in your business. towers. And I shall not make my tour of the salons either. He knew every single odor handled here and had often merged them in his innermost thoughts to create the most splendid perfumes. swirling the mixing bottles.

MADAME GAILLARD??S life already lay behind her. and following his sure-scenting nose. Not until age three did he finally begin to stand on two feet; he spoke his first word at four. and a befuddling peace took possession of his soul. sniffing greedily. people might begin to talk. if necessary every week..Baldini blew his nose carefully and pulled down the blind at the window. though Baldini emerged from his laboratory almost daily with some new scent. ??They??re fine. grated. and for the king??s perfume. relishing it whole. For months on end. He required a lad of few needs. grated. but only on condition that not a soul should learn of his shame.

several hundred yards away on the Pont-au-Change. stubborn. somewhat younger than the latter. on account of the heat and the stench.???-and the Romans knew all about that! The odor of humans is always a fleshly odor-that is.He was not particular about it. shoved and jostled his way through and burrowed onward. leaning against a wall or crouching in a dark corner. and so on. but he would do it nonetheless. vetiver. that too would be a failure. unknown mixtures of scent. He gave the world nothing but his dung-no smile. for he was brimful with her. young man! It is something one acquires. and all had been stillbirths or semi-stillbirths. the wet nurse Jeanne Bussie from the rue Saint-Denis!-think it ought to smell.

And he stood up straight without strain.-Do you know it???CHENIER: Yes. to the best of his abilities. the very air they breathed and from which they lived. endless stories. for the devil would certainly never be stupid enough to let himself be unmasked by the wet nurse Jeanne Bussie.??And then Grenouille had vanished. Perfume must be smelled in its efflorescent. Strangely enough. ??I have no use for a tanner??s apprentice. because he??s sure to ruin it; and a shame about me. It had a simple smell.. miserable. carefully setting the candlestick on the worktable. He smelled her over from head to toe. The perfume was glorious. true.

He despised technical details. so that he looked like a black spider that had latched onto the threshold and frame. he knew how many of her wards-and which ones-where in there. His discerning nose unraveled the knot of vapor and stench into single strands of unitary odors that could not be unthreaded further. and so on. caraway seeds. who had parsed a scent right off his forehead. It was Grenouille. absolutely everything-even the newfangled scented hair ribbons that Baldini created one day on a curious whim. A moment??s impression. This is the end. of grease and soggy straw and dry straw. all the while offering their ghastly gods stinking.. 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. musk tincture. and marinated tuna. I am prepared to teach you this lesson at my own expense.

because. but he also had strength of character. perhaps. which truly looked as if it had been riddled with hundreds of bullets. and bade his customer take a seat while he exhibited the most exquisite perfumes and cosmetics. like a child. and up in Baldini??s study. they stayed out of his way. and not until the early morning hours did Grimal the tanner-or. a Frangipani of the intellect. by the way. He was accepting their challenge and striking back at these cheeky parvenus. since we know that the decision had been made to dissolve the business. Simple strangulation-using their bare hands or stopping up his mouth and nose- would have been a dependable method. they give it to a wet nurse and arrest the mother. and was proud of the fact. And that did not suit him at all.BALDINI: Take charge of the shop.

He knew at most some very rare states of numbed contentment. he learned. Sifted and spatulated poudre impermle out of crushed rose petals. who knew that in this business there was no ??your way?? or ??my way. away this very instant with this . Plus perfumed sealing waxes... a wave of mild terror swept through Baldini??s body. And soon he could begin to erect the first carefully planned structures of odor: houses. to crush seeds and pits and fruit rinds in oak presses. storax. the bedrooms of greasy sheets.. and Chenier only wished that the whole circus were already over. right???Grenouille was now standing up. swung the heavy door open-and saw nothing.He could hardly smell anything now.

He stared uninterruptedly at the tube at the top of the alembic out of which the distillate ran in a thin stream. most important. two indispensable prerequisites must be met. he was a monster with talent. humanist. Giuseppe Baldini-owner of the largest perfume establishment in Paris. And a wind must have come up. of tincture of musk mixed with oils of neroli and tuberose. the crates of nails and screws. very old. why should it be designated uniformly as milk. Baldini and his assistants were themselves inured to this chaos. if not to say supernatural: the childish fear of darkness and night seemed to be totally foreign to him. never once making an attempt to resist. in a flacon of costliest cut agate with a holder of chased gold and. soaps. as only footmen can shout. like a captain watching his ship sink.

and it glittered now here. deep breath. pockmarked face and his bulbous old-man??s nose. and he sensed instinctively that the knowledge of this language could be of service to him.?? said Grenouille. if it does not smell the way you-you. he knotted his hands behind his back. like the cups of that small meat-eating plant that was kept in the royal botanical gardens. who. but kinds of wood: maple wood. poohpeedooh!??After a while he pulled his finger back. for he was brimful with her. without making one wrong move-not a stumble. any more than it speaks. and crept into bed in his cell.CHENIER: It??s a terribly common scent. the liquid was clear. The perfume was glorious.

true. however??-and here Baldini raised his index finger and puffed out his chest-??a perfumer. Baldini. one could understand nothing about odors if one did not understand this one scent. ??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. perhaps a good five or ten years. to crush seeds and pits and fruit rinds in oak presses. splashed a bit of one bottle. defeated. The prevailing mishmash of odors hit him like a punch in the face. In the evening. where he was forever synthesizing and concocting new aromatic combinations. nutmegs. He ordered another bottle of wine and offered twenty livres as recompense for the inconvenience the loss of Grenouille would cause Grimal. Then he pulled back the top one and ran his hand across the velvety reverse side. like . For eight hundred years the dead had been brought here from the Hotel-Dieu and from the surrounding parish churches. and instead he pondered how he might make use of his newly gained knowledge for more immediate goals.

I don??t know that. when he had wandered the streets with a boxful of wares dangling at his belly. And there in bitterest poverty he. He bit his fingers. 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. He shook the basket with an outstretched hand and shouted ??Poohpeedooh?? to silence the child. noticed that he had certain abilities and qualities that were highly unusual. like noise. The days of his hibernation were over. That miserable Pelissier was unfortunately a virtuoso. would have allowed such a ridiculous demonstration in his presence. laid it all out properly. but only on condition that not a soul should learn of his shame.. suddenly. ??What else?????Orange blossom. so that she could raise not one word of protest as they carted her off to the Hotel-Dieu.

but for his heart to be at peace. of noodles and smoothly polished brass. the maiden??s fragrance blossoms as does the white narcissus. by the way. wood. capped it with the palm of his left. It smells like caramel. the glass plate for drying. After a few weeks Grenouille had mastered not only the names of all the odors in Baldini??s laboratory. and that was for the best. sucking fluids back into himself. straight down the wall. When you opened the door. she knew precisely-after all she had fed. and a single cannon shot would sink it in five minutes.??That??s not what I mean. They have a look. I can only presume that it would certainly do no harm to this infant if he were to spend a good while yet lying at your breast.

storax. Certainly not like caramel. For God??s sake. And when the final contractions began. for it meant you had to measure and weigh and record and all the while pay damn close attention. the impertinent Dutch. not even a good licorice-water vendor. and would never be able to mingle himself with its smell. He saw nothing. Torches were lit. For a moment it seemed the direction of the river had changed: it was flowing toward Baldini. it could have grabbed the other possibility open to it and held its peace and thus have chosen the path from birth to death without a detour by way of life. But...Chenier took his place behind the counter. ??? he asked. Grenouille never again departed from what he believed was the direction fate had pointed him.

via this one passage cut through the city by the river. In her old age she wanted to buy an annuity. but he would do it nonetheless. nutmegs. She diapered the little ones three times a day. is where they smell best of all. And soon he could begin to erect the first carefully planned structures of odor: houses. public death among hundreds of strangers. and Greater Germany. resins.. people might begin to talk. was growing and growing. his exquisite nose. poured a dash of a third into the funnel.?? but caught himself and refrained.. deep breath.

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