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He
had
gathered
tens
of
thousands
,
hundreds
of
thousands
of
specific
smells
and
kept
them
so
clearly
,
so
,
randomly
,
at
his
disposal
,
that
he
could
not
only
recall
them
when
he
smelled
them
again
,
but
could
also
actually
smell
them
simply
upon
recollection
.
And
what
was
more
,
he
even
knew
how
by
sheer
imagination
to
arrange
new
combinations
of
them
,
to
the
point
where
he
created
odors
that
did
not
exist
in
the
real
world
.
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
,
so
painfully
drummed
into
them
,
to
formulate
their
first
very
inadequate
sentences
describing
the
world
.
Perhaps
the
closest
analogy
to
his
talent
is
the
musical
wunderkind
,
who
has
heard
his
way
inside
melodies
and
harmonies
to
the
alphabet
of
individual
tones
and
now
composes
completely
new
melodies
and
harmonies
all
on
his
own
.
With
the
one
difference
,
however
,
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.To
the
world
he
appeared
to
grow
ever
more
secretive
.
What
he
loved
most
was
to
rove
alone
through
the
northern
parts
of
the
Faubourg
Saint-Antoine
,
through
vegetable
gardens
and
vineyards
,
across
meadows
.
Sometimes
he
did
not
come
home
in
the
evening
,
remained
missing
for
days
.
The
rod
of
punishment
awaiting
him
he
bore
without
a
whimper
of
pain
.
Confining
him
to
the
house
,
denying
him
meals
,
sentencing
him
to
hard
labor-nothing
could
change
his
behavior
.
Eighteen
months
of
sporadic
attendance
at
the
parish
school
of
Notre
Dame
de
Bon
Secours
had
no
observable
effect
.
He
learned
to
spell
a
bit
and
to
write
his
own
name
,
nothing
more
.
His
teacher
considered
him
feebleminded.Madame
Gaillard
,
however
,
noticed
that
he
had
certain
abilities
and
qualities
that
were
highly
unusual
,
if
not
to
say
supernatural
:
the
childish
fear
of
darkness
and
night
seemed
to
be
totally
foreign
to
him
.
You
could
send
him
anytime
on
an
errand
to
the
cellar
,
where
other
children
hardly
dared
go
even
with
a
lantern
,
or
out
to
the
shed
to
fetch
wood
on
the
blackest
night
.
And
he
never
took
a
light
with
him
and
still
found
his
way
around
and
immediately
brought
back
what
was
demanded
,
without
making
one
wrong
move-not
a
stumble
,
not
one
thing
knocked
over
.
More
remarkable
still
,
Madame
Gaillard
thought
she
had
discovered
his
apparent
ability
to
see
right
through
paper
,
cloth
,
wood
,
even
through
brick
walls
and
locked
doors
.
Without
ever
entering
the
dormitory
,
he
knew
how
many
of
her
wards-and
which
ones-where
in
there
.
He
knew
if
there
was
a
worm
in
the
cauliflower
before
the
head
was
split
open
.
And
once
,
when
she
had
hidden
her
money
so
well
that
she
could
n't
find
it
herself
(
she
kept
changing
her
hiding
places
)
,
he
pointed
without
a
second
's
search
to
a
spot
behind
a
fireplace
beam-and
there
it
was
!
He
could
even
see
into
the
future
,
because
he
would
infallibly
predict
the
approach
of
a
visitor
long
before
the
person
arrived
or
of
a
thunderstorm
when
there
was
not
the
least
cloud
in
the
sky
.
Of
course
,
he
could
not
see
any
of
these
things
with
his
eyes
,
but
rather
caught
their
scents
with
a
nose
that
from
day
to
day
smelled
such
things
more
keenly
and
precisely
:
the
worm
in
the
cauliflower
,
the
money
behind
a
beam
,
and
people
on
the
other
side
of
a
wall
or
several
blocks
away
.
But
Madame
Gaillard
would
not
have
guessed
that
fact
in
her
wildest
dream
,
even
if
that
blow
with
the
poker
had
left
her
olfactory
organ
intact
.
She
was
convinced
that
,
feebleminded
or
not
,
the
lad
had
second
sight
.
And
since
she
also
knew
that
people
with
second
sight
bring
misfortune
and
death
with
them
,
he
made
her
increasingly
nervous
.
What
made
her
more
nervous
still
was
the
unbearable
thought
of
living
under
the
same
roof
with
someone
who
had
the
gift
of
spotting
hidden
money
behind
walls
and
beams
;
and
once
she
had
discovered
that
Grenouille
possessed
this
dreadful
ability
,
she
set
about
getting
rid
of
him
.
And
it
just
so
happened
that
at
about
the
same
time-Grenouille
had
turned
eight-the
cloister
of
Saint-Merri
,
without
mention
of
the
reason
,
ceased
to
pay
its
yearly
fee
.
Madame
did
not
dun
them
.
For
appearances
'
sake
,
she
waited
an
additional
week
,
and
when
the
money
owed
her
still
had
not
appeared
,
she
took
the
lad
by
the
hand
and
walked
with
him
into
the
city.She
was
acquainted
with
a
tanner
named
Grimal
-
,
who
lived
near
the
river
in
the
rue
de
la
Mortellerie
and
had
a
notorious
need
for
young
laborers-not
for
regular
apprentices
and
journeymen
,
but
for
cheap
coolies
.
There
were
certain
jobs
in
the
trade
--
scraping
the
meat
off
rotting
hides
,
mixing
the
poisonous
tanning
fluids
and
dyes
,
producing
the
caustic
lyes-so
perilous
,
that
,
if
possible
,
a
responsible
tanning
master
did
not
waste
his
skilled
workers
on
them
,
but
instead
used
unemployed
riffraff
,
tramps
,
or
,
indeed
,
stray
children
,
about
whom
there
would
be
no
inquiry
in
dubious
situations
.
Madame
Gaillard
knew
of
course
that
by
al
!
normal
standards
Grenouille
would
have
no
chance
of
survival
in
Grimal
's
tannery
.
But
she
was
not
a
woman
who
bothered
herself
about
such
things
.
She
had
,
after
all
,
done
her
duty
.
Her
custodianship
was
ended
.
What
happened
to
her
ward
from
here
on
was
not
her
affair
.
If
he
made
it
through
,
well
and
good
.
If
he
died
,
that
was
well
and
good
too-the
main
thing
was
that
it
all
be
done
legally
.
And
so
she
had
Monsieur
Grimal
provide
her
with
a
written
receipt
for
the
boy
she
was
handing
over
to
him
,
gave
him
in
return
a
receipt
for
her
brokerage
fee
of
fifteen
francs
,
and
set
out
again
for
home
in
the
rue
de
Charonne
.
She
felt
not
the
slightest
twinge
of
conscience
.
On
the
contrary
,
she
thought
her
actions
not
merely
legal
but
also
just
,
for
if
a
child
for
whom
no
one
was
paying
were
to
stay
on
with
her
,
it
would
necessarily
be
at
the
expense
of
the
other
children
or
,
worse
,
at
her
own
expense
,
endangering
the
future
of
the
other
children
,
or
worse
,
her
own
future-that
is
,
her
own
private
and
sheltered
death
,
which
was
the
only
thing
that
she
still
desired
from
life.Since
we
are
to
leave
Madame
Gaillard
behind
us
at
this
point
in
our
story
and
shall
not
meet
her
again
,
we
shall
take
a
few
sentences
to
describe
the
end
of
her
days
.
Although
dead
in
her
heart
since
childhood
,
Madame
unfortunately
lived
to
be
very
,
very
old
.
In
1782
,
just
short
of
her
seventieth
birthday
,
she
gave
up
her
business
,
purchased
her
annuity
as
planned
,
sat
in
her
little
house
,
and
waited
for
death
.
But
death
did
not
come
.
What
came
in
its
place
was
something
not
a
soul
in
the
world
could
have
anticipated
:
a
revolution
,
a
rapid
transformation
of
all
social
,
moral
,
and
transcendental
affairs
.
At
first
this
revolution
had
no
effect
on
Madame
Oaillard
's
personal
fate
.
But
then-she
was
almost
eighty
by
now-all
at
once
the
man
who
held
her
annuity
had
to
emigrate
,
was
stripped
of
his
holdings
,
and
forced
to
auction
off
his
possessions
to
a
trouser
manufacturer
.
For
a
while
it
looked
as
if
even
this
change
would
have
no
fatal
effect
on
Madame
Gaillard
,
for
the
trouser
manufacturer
continued
to
pay
her
annuity
punctually
.
But
then
came
the
day
when
she
no
longer
received
her
money
in
the
form
of
hard
coin
but
as
little
slips
of
printed
paper
,
and
that
marked
the
beginning
of
her
economic
demise
.
Within
two
years
,
the
annuity
was
no
longer
worth
enough
to
pay
for
her
firewood
.
Madame
was
forced
to
sell
her
house-at
a
ridiculously
low
price
,
since
suddenly
there
were
thousands
of
other
people
who
also
had
to
sell
their
houses
.
And
once
again
she
received
in
return
only
these
stupid
slips
of
paper
,
and
once
again
within
two
years
they
were
as
good
as
worthless
,
and
by
1797
(
she
was
nearing
ninety
now
)
she
had
lost
her
entire
fortune
,
scraped
together
from
almost
a
century
of
hard
work
,
and
was
living
in
a
tiny
furnished
room
in
the
rue
des
Coquilles
.
And
only
then-ten
,
twenty
years
too
late-did
death
arrive
,
in
the
form
of
a
protracted
bout
with
a
cancer
that
grabbed
Madame
by
the
throat
,
robbing
her
first
of
her
appetite
and
then
of
her
voice
,
so
that
she
could
raise
not
one
word
of
protest
as
they
carted
her
off
to
the
Hotel-Dieu
.
There
they
put
her
in
a
ward
populated
with
hundreds
of
the
mortally
ill
,
the
same
ward
in
which
her
husband
had
died
,
laid
her
in
a
bed
shared
with
total
strangers
,
pressing
body
upon
body
with
five
other
women
,
and
for
three
long
weeks
let
her
die
in
public
view
.
She
was
then
sewn
into
a
sack
,
tossed
onto
a
tumbrel
at
four
in
the
morning
with
fifty
other
corpses
,
to
the
faint
tinkle
of
a
bell
driven
to
the
newly
founded
cemetery
of
Clamart
,
a
mile
beyond
the
city
gates
,
and
there
laid
in
her
final
resting
place
,
a
mass
grave
beneath
a
thick
layer
of
quicklime.That
was
in
the
year
1799
.
Thank
God
Madame
had
suspected
nothing
of
the
fate
awaiting
her
as
she
walked
home
that
day
in
1746
,
leaving
Grenouille
and
our
story
behind
She
might
possibly
have
lost
her
faith
in
justice
and
with
it
the
only
meaning
that
she
could
make
of
life
.
FROM
HIS
first
glance
at
Monsieur
Grimal-no
,
from
the
first
breath
that
sniffed
in
the
odor
enveloping
Grimal-Grenouille
knew
that
this
man
was
capable
of
thrashing
him
to
death
for
the
least
infraction
.
His
life
was
worth
precisely
as
much
as
the
work
he
could
accomplish
and
consisted
only
of
whatever
utility
Grimal
ascribed
to
it
.
And
so
,
Grenouille
came
to
heel
,
never
once
making
an
attempt
to
resist
.
With
each
new
day
,
he
would
bottle
up
inside
himself
the
energies
of
his
defiance
and
contumacy
and
expend
them
solely
to
survive
the
impending
ice
age
in
his
ticklike
way
.
Tough
,
uncomplaining
,
inconspicuous
,
he
tended
the
light
of
life
's
hopes
as
a
very
small
,
but
carefully
nourished
flame
.
He
was
a
paragon
of
docility
,
frugality
,
and
diligence
in
his
work
,
obeyed
implicitly
,
and
appeared
satisfied
with
every
meal
offered
.
In
the
evening
,
he
meekly
let
himself
be
locked
up
in
a
closet
off
to
one
side
of
the
tannery
floor
,
where
tools
were
kept
and
the
raw
,
salted
hides
were
hung
.
There
he
slept
on
the
hard
,
bare
earthen
floor
.
During
the
day
he
worked
as
long
as
there
was
light-eight
hours
in
winter
,
fourteen
,
fifteen
,
sixteen
hours
in
summer
.
He
scraped
the
meat
from
bestially
stinking
hides
,
watered
them
down
,
dehaired
them
,
limed
,
bated
,
and
fulled
them
,
rubbed
them
down
with
pickling
dung
,
chopped
wood
,
stripped
bark
from
birch
and
yew
,
climbed
down
into
the
tanning
pits
filled
with
caustic
fumes
,
layered
the
hides
and
pelts
just
as
the
journeymen
ordered
him
,
spread
them
with
smashed
gallnuts
,
covered
this
ghastly
funeral
pyre
with
yew
branches
and
earth
.
Years
later
,
he
would
have
to
dig
them
up
again
and
retrieve
these
mummified
hide
carcasses-now
tanned
leather
--
from
their
grave.When
he
was
not
burying
or
digging
up
hides
,
he
was
hauling
water
.
For
months
on
end
,
he
hauled
water
up
from
the
river
,
always
in
two
buckets
,
hundreds
of
bucketfuls
a
day
,
for
tanning
requires
vast
quantities
of
water
,
for
soaking
,
for
boiling
,
for
dyeing
.
For
months
on
end
,
the
water
hauling
left
him
without
a
dry
stitch
on
his
body
;
by
evening
his
clothes
were
dripping
wet
and
his
skin
was
cold
and
swollen
like
a
soaked
shammy.After
one
year
of
an
existence
more
animal
than
human
,
he
contracted
anthrax
,
a
disease
feared
by
tanners
and
usually
fatal
.
Grimal
had
already
written
him
off
and
was
looking
around
for
a
replacement
--
not
without
regret
,
by
the
way
,
for
he
had
never
before
had
a
more
docile
and
productive
worker
than
this
Grenouille
.
But
contrary
to
all
expectation
,
Grenouille
survived
the
illness
.
All
he
bore
from
it
were
scars
from
the
large
black
carbuncles
behind
his
ears
and
on
his
hands
and
cheeks
,
leaving
him
disfigured
and
even
uglier
than
he
had
been
before
.
It
also
left
him
immune
to
anthrax-an
invaluable
advantage-so
that
now
he
could
strip
the
foulest
hides
with
cut
and
bleeding
hands
and
still
run
no
danger
of
reinfection
.
This
set
him
apart
not
only
from
the
apprentices
and
journeymen
,
but
also
from
his
own
potential
successors
.
And
because
he
could
no
longer
be
so
easily
replaced
as
before
,
the
value
of
his
work
and
thus
the
value
of
his
life
increased
Suddenly
he
no
longer
had
to
sleep
on
bare
earth
,
but
was
allowed
to
build
himself
a
plank
bed
in
the
closet
,
was
given
straw
to
scatter
over
it
and
a
blanket
of
his
own
.
He
was
no
longer
locked
in
at
bedtime
.
His
food
was
more
adequate
.
Grimal
no
longer
kept
him
as
just
any
animal
,
but
as
a
useful
house
pet.When
he
was
twelve
,
Grimal
gave
him
half
of
Sunday
off
,
and
at
thirteen
he
was
even
allowed
to
go
out
on
weekend
evenings
for
an
hour
after
work
and
do
whatever
he
liked
.
He
had
triumphed
,
for
he
was
alive
,
and
he
possessed
a
small
quantum
of
freedom
sufficient
for
survival
.
The
days
of
his
hibernation
were
over
.
Grenouille
the
tick
stirred
again
.
He
caught
the
scent
of
morning
.
He
was
seized
with
an
urge
to
hunt
.
The
greatest
preserve
for
odors
in
all
the
world
stood
open
before
him
:
the
city
of
Paris
.
