He who ruled scent ruled the hearts of men

19. Perfume: The Story of a Murderer by Patrick Suskind

I started reading this book some time ago, but I'd only gotten a couple of chapters in before having to give up due to an upswing in my academic schedule. The story takes place in 18th century France and is the odd story of a boy born in a fish stall in Paris who grows into a most unique individual. He is saved from death at his mother's hand (she is beheaded when she confesses to not only wanting to kill this child but had killed her three previous infants as well) and given over to a monastery where he is baptized Jean-Baptiste Grenouille. He is a bizarre child in that he himself has no smell, but his sense of smell is so acute that he learns at a very young age how to distinguish between tree species and can find his way in complete darkness using only his nose. People do not consciously realize he has no odor, but everyone who comes in contact with him is unexplainably unnerved by him. He realizes after being sold to a tanner by his foster mother that he wants to catalog in his memory every possible scent. One night, on the anniversary of the king's coronation, Grenouille catches a scent unlike any he has ever smelled before. He follows the trail, mesmerized, blissed out, by the purity of the scent. It is the scent of a young virgin girl, and that amazing, unadulterated scent becomes the driving force of the rest of his life.

Grenouille is not a likable character. At times (especially during a seven year period of his life) he reminded me of Gollum from The Lord of the Rings -- a tragic little creature that everyone despises. Only with Grenouille, you get the sense that he was destined to be an evil little gnome from conception, that no amount of love or positive reinforcement could have altered his path. You know his life is going to end in a train wreck, and what a spectacular wreck it is. And all of it is fueled by scent:

The persuasive power of an odor cannot be fended off, it enters into us like breath into our lungs, it fills us up, imbues us totally. There is no remedy for it.