NOT FAR FROM the Porte des F6n6ants, in the rue1 de la Louve, Grenouille discovered a small perfumer’s workshop and asked for a job.
It turned out that the proprietor2, maitre parfumeur Honore Arnulfi, had died the winter before and that his widow, a lively, black-haired woman of perhaps thirty, was managing the business alone, with the help of a journeyman.
After complaining at length about the bad times and her own precarious3 financial situation, Madame Arnulfi declared that she really could not afford a second journeyman, but on the other hand she needed one for all the upcoming work; that she could not possibly put up a second journeyman here in the house, but on the other hand she did have at her disposal a small cabin in an olive grove4 behind the Franciscan cloister-not ten minutes away-in which a young man of modest needs could sleep in a pinch; further, that as an honest mistress she certainly knew that she was responsible for the physical well-being5 of her journeymen, but that on the other hand she did not see herself in a position to provide two warm meals a day-in short (as Grenouille had of course smelled for some time already): Madame Amulfi was a woman of solid prosperity and sound business sense. And since he was not concerned about money and declared himself satisfied with a salary of two francs a week and with the other niggardly6 provisions, they quickly came to an agreement. The first journeyman was called in, a giant of a man named Druot. Grenouille at once guessed that he regularly shared Madame’s bed and that she apparently7 did not make certain decisions without first consulting him. With legs spread wide and exuding8 a cloud of spermy odor, he planted himself before Grenouille, who looked ridiculously frail9 in the presence of this Hun, and inspected him, looked him straight in the eye-as if this technique would allow him to recognize any improper10 intentions or a possible rival-finally grinned patronizingly, and signaled his agreement with a nod.
That settled it. Grenouille got a handshake, a cold evening snack, a blanket, and a key to the cabin-a windowless shack11 that smelled pleasantly of old sheep dung and hay, where he made himself at home as well as he could. The next day he began work for Madame Arnulfi.
It was jonquil season. Madame Arnulfi had the flowers grown on small parcels of land that she owned in the broad basin below the city, or she bought them from farmers, with whom she haggled12 fiercely over every ounce. The blossoms were delivered very early in the morning, emptied out in the workshop by the basketfuls into massive but lightweight and fragrant13 piles. Meanwhile, in a large caldron Druot melted pork lard and beef tallow to make a creamy soup into which he pitched shovelfuls of fresh blossoms, while Grenouille constantly had to stir it all with a spatula14 as long as a broom. They lay on the surface for a moment, like eyes facing instant death, and lost all color the moment the spatula pushed them down into the warm, oily embrace. And at almost the same moment they wilted15 and withered16, and death apparently came so rapidly upon them that they had no choice but to exhale17 their last fragrant sighs into the very medium that drowned them; for-and Gre-aouille observed this with indescribable fascination18 -the more blossoms he stirred under into the caldron, the sweeter the scent19 of the oil. And it was not that the dead blossoms continued to give off scent there in the oil-no, the oil itself had appropriated the scent of the blossoms.
Now and then the soup got too thick, and they had to pour it quickly through a sieve20, freeing it of macerated cadavers21 to make room for fresh blossoms. Then they dumped and mixed and sieved22 some more, all day long without pause, for the procedure allowed no delays, until, as evening approached, all the piles of blossoms had passed through the caldron of oil. Then-so that nothing might be wasted-the refuse was steeped in boiling water and wrung23 out to the last drop in a screw press, yielding still more mildly fragrant oil. The majority of the scent, however, the soul of the sea of blossoms, had remained in the caldron, trapped and preserved in an unsightly, slowly congealing24 grayish white grease.
The following day, the maceration25, as this procedure was called, continued-the caldron was heated once again, the oil melted and fed with new blossoms. This went on for several days, from morning till evening. It was tiring work. Grenouille had arms of lead, calluses on his hands, and pains in his back as he staggered back to his cabin in the evening. Although Druot was at least three times as strong as he, he did not once take a turn at stirring, but was quite content to pour in more feather-light blossoms, to tend the fire, and now and then, because of the heat, to go out for a drink. But Grenouille did not mutiny. He stirred the blossoms into the oil without complaint, from morning till night, and hardly noticed the exertion26 of stirring, for he was continually fascinated by the process taking place before his eyes and under his nose: the sudden withering27 of the blossoms and the absorption of their scent.
After a while, Druot would decide that the oil was finally saturated28 and could absorb no more scent. He would extinguish the fire, sieve the viscous29 soup one last time, and pour it into stoneware crocks, where almost immediately it solidified30 to a wonderfully fragrant pomade.
This was the moment for Madame Araulfi, who came to assay31 the precious product, to label it, and to record in her books the exact quality and quantity of the yield. After she had personally capped the crocks, had sealed them and borne them to the cool depths of her cellar, she donned her black dress, took out her widow’s veil, and made the rounds of the city’s wholesalers and vendors32 of perfume. In touching33 phrases she described to these gentlemen her situation as a woman left all on her own, let them make their offers, compared the prices, sighed, and finally sold- or did not sell. Perfumed pomades, when stored in a cool place, keep for a long time. And when the price leaves something to be desired, who knows, perhaps it will climb again come winter or next spring. Also you had to consider whether instead of selling to these hucksters you ought not to join with other small producers and together ship a load of pomade to Genoa or share in a convoy34 to the autumn fair in Beaucaire-risky enterprises, to be sure, but extremely profitable when successful. Madame Arnulfi carefully weighed these various possibilities against one another, and sometimes she would indeed sign a contract, selling a portion of her treasure, but hold another portion of it in reserve, and risk negotiating for a third part all on her own. But if during her inquiries35 she had got the impression that there was a glut36 on the pomade market and that in the foreseeable future there would be no scarcity37 to her advantage, she would hurry back home, her veil wafting38 behind her, and give Druot instructions to subject the whole yield to a lavage and transform it into an essence absolue.
And the pomade would be brought up again from the cellar, carefully warmed in tightly covered pots, diluted39 with rectified40 spirits, and thoroughly41 blended and washed with the help of a built-in stirring apparatus42 that Grenouille operated. Returned to the cellar, this mixture quickly cooled; the alcohol separated from the congealed43 oil of the pomade and could be drained off into a bottle. A kind of perfume had been produced, but one of enormous intensity44, while the pomade that was left behind had lost most of its fragrance45. Thus the fragrance of the blossoms had been transferred to yet another medium. But the operation was still not at an end. After carefully filtering the perfumed alcohol through gauze that retained the least little clump46 of oil, Druot filled a small alembic and distilled47 it slowly over a minimum flame. What remained in the matrass was a tiny quantity of a pale-hued liquid that Grenouille knew quite well, but had never smelled in such quality and purity either at Baldini’s or Runel’s: the finest oil of the blossom, its polished scent concentrated a hundred times over to a little puddle48 of essence absolue. This essence no longer had a sweet fragrance. Its smell was almost painfully intense, pungent49, and acrid50. And yet one single drop, when dissolved in a quart of alcohol, sufficed to revitalize it and resurrect a whole field of flowers.
The yield was frightfully small. The liquid from the matrass filled three little flacons and no more. Nothing was left from the scent of hundreds of thousands of blossoms except those three flacons. But they were worth a fortune, even here in Grasse. And worth how much more once delivered to Paris or Lyon, to Grenoble, Genoa, or Marseille! Madame Arnulfi’s glance was suffused51 with beauty when she looked at the little bottles, she caressed52 them with her eyes; and when she picked them up and stoppered them with snugly53 fitting glass stoppers, she held her breath to prevent even the least bit of the precious contents from being blown away. And to make sure that after stoppering not the tiniest atom would evaporate and escape, she sealed them with wax and encapsulated them in a fish bladder tightly tied around the neck of the bottle. Then she placed them in a crate54 stuffed with wadded cotton and put them under lock and key in the cellar.
1 rue | |
n.懊悔,芸香,后悔;v.后悔,悲伤,懊悔 | |
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2 proprietor | |
n.所有人;业主;经营者 | |
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3 precarious | |
adj.不安定的,靠不住的;根据不足的 | |
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4 grove | |
n.林子,小树林,园林 | |
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5 well-being | |
n.安康,安乐,幸福 | |
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6 niggardly | |
adj.吝啬的,很少的 | |
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7 apparently | |
adv.显然地;表面上,似乎 | |
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8 exuding | |
v.缓慢流出,渗出,分泌出( exude的现在分词 );流露出对(某物)的神态或感情 | |
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9 frail | |
adj.身体虚弱的;易损坏的 | |
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10 improper | |
adj.不适当的,不合适的,不正确的,不合礼仪的 | |
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11 shack | |
adj.简陋的小屋,窝棚 | |
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12 haggled | |
v.讨价还价( haggle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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13 fragrant | |
adj.芬香的,馥郁的,愉快的 | |
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14 spatula | |
n.抹刀 | |
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15 wilted | |
(使)凋谢,枯萎( wilt的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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16 withered | |
adj. 枯萎的,干瘪的,(人身体的部分器官)因病萎缩的或未发育良好的 动词wither的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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17 exhale | |
v.呼气,散出,吐出,蒸发 | |
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18 fascination | |
n.令人着迷的事物,魅力,迷恋 | |
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19 scent | |
n.气味,香味,香水,线索,嗅觉;v.嗅,发觉 | |
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20 sieve | |
n.筛,滤器,漏勺 | |
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21 cadavers | |
n.尸体( cadaver的名词复数 ) | |
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22 sieved | |
筛,漏勺( sieve的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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23 wrung | |
绞( wring的过去式和过去分词 ); 握紧(尤指别人的手); 把(湿衣服)拧干; 绞掉(水) | |
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24 congealing | |
v.使凝结,冻结( congeal的现在分词 );(指血)凝结 | |
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25 maceration | |
n.泡软,因绝食而衰弱 | |
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26 exertion | |
n.尽力,努力 | |
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27 withering | |
使人畏缩的,使人害羞的,使人难堪的 | |
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28 saturated | |
a.饱和的,充满的 | |
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29 viscous | |
adj.粘滞的,粘性的 | |
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30 solidified | |
(使)成为固体,(使)变硬,(使)变得坚固( solidify的过去式和过去分词 ); 使团结一致; 充实,巩固; 具体化 | |
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31 assay | |
n.试验,测定 | |
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32 vendors | |
n.摊贩( vendor的名词复数 );小贩;(房屋等的)卖主;卖方 | |
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33 touching | |
adj.动人的,使人感伤的 | |
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34 convoy | |
vt.护送,护卫,护航;n.护送;护送队 | |
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35 inquiries | |
n.调查( inquiry的名词复数 );疑问;探究;打听 | |
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36 glut | |
n.存货过多,供过于求;v.狼吞虎咽 | |
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37 scarcity | |
n.缺乏,不足,萧条 | |
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38 wafting | |
v.吹送,飘送,(使)浮动( waft的现在分词 ) | |
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39 diluted | |
无力的,冲淡的 | |
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40 rectified | |
[医]矫正的,调整的 | |
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41 thoroughly | |
adv.完全地,彻底地,十足地 | |
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42 apparatus | |
n.装置,器械;器具,设备 | |
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43 congealed | |
v.使凝结,冻结( congeal的过去式和过去分词 );(指血)凝结 | |
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44 intensity | |
n.强烈,剧烈;强度;烈度 | |
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45 fragrance | |
n.芬芳,香味,香气 | |
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46 clump | |
n.树丛,草丛;vi.用沉重的脚步行走 | |
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47 distilled | |
adj.由蒸馏得来的v.蒸馏( distil的过去式和过去分词 );从…提取精华 | |
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48 puddle | |
n.(雨)水坑,泥潭 | |
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49 pungent | |
adj.(气味、味道)刺激性的,辛辣的;尖锐的 | |
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50 acrid | |
adj.辛辣的,尖刻的,刻薄的 | |
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51 suffused | |
v.(指颜色、水气等)弥漫于,布满( suffuse的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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52 caressed | |
爱抚或抚摸…( caress的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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53 snugly | |
adv.紧贴地;贴身地;暖和舒适地;安适地 | |
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54 crate | |
vt.(up)把…装入箱中;n.板条箱,装货箱 | |
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