El perfume: Historia de un asesino

ISBN: 8432216062
ISBN 13: 9788432216060
By: Patrick Süskind

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About this book

Jean-Baptiste Grenouille tiene su marca de nacimiento: no despide ningún olor. Al mismo tiempo posee un olfato prodigioso que le permite percibir todos los olores del mundo. Desde la miseria en que nace, el protagonista escala posiciones sociales convirtiéndose en un afamado perfumista. Crea perfumes capaces de hacerle pasar inadvertido o inspira simpatía, amor... Para obtener estas fórmulas debe asesinar a jóvenes muchachas vírgenes, obtener fluidos corporales y licuar sus olores íntimos. Su arte se convierte en una suprema e inquietante prestidigitación.

Reader's Thoughts


رواية العطر عمل بديعباتريك زوسكند يملك سحراً خاصاً ولغة مدهشة ومفرطة في عذوبة الوصف وإحساس عميق في حقل الروائح الطيّارةكيف استطاع أن يصف لنا العطور والروائح وكأنه يتبختر في كل صفحة بعطر جديد أشمه بنقاءوتركيز عالباتريك الكاتب الألماني الذي درس التاريخ كتب هذا العمل بثقافة عالية وأسلوب جديد وباهر جداً الرواية التي تدور في القرن الثامن عشر - ومزامنة مع أحداث تاريخية لا تبعدنا عن أحداث القصة - كانت بفكرة مستحدثة , اللغة كانت جميلة والمفردات كان مُعطرة , الوصف عميق جداً ومُتقن استمتعت كثيراً بكل فصل في الروايةإلا فصل وواحد بدا فيه (غرينوي) بائساً ووحيد في جحر كان ممل عمل رائع هذه الرواية لم أقرأ له شيء مشابه قرأتها بترجمة كاميران حوج عن منشورات الجمل , مثالية *


"Odours have a power of persuasion stronger than that of words, appearances, emotions or will. The persuasive power of an odour 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.""For people could close their eyes to greatness, to horrors, to beauty, and their ears to melodies or deceiving words. But they could not escape scent. For scent was a brother of breath. Together with breath it entered human beings, who could not defend themselves against it, not if they wanted to live. And scent entered into their very core, went directly to their hearts, and decided for good and all between affection and contempt, disgust and lust, love and hate. He who ruled scent ruled the hearts of men."3/4 of the way through Perfume, I was going to tell you all in my review that if you're a fan of Dexter or maybe even True Blood, you might enjoy this book. Then I realized at the end that I was being too simplistic. It's for lovers of words, language, history, descriptions and loving to hate a character.It's a strange thing writing a whole book about smell. Smell is one of our few senses that doesn't translate to images, words, or descriptions. I always find perfume ads amusing, because they have to evoke an emotion they are hoping consumers will feel when they do finally smell the scent. Young mother hanging the laundry! Sexy woman in a bustier in the basement of a Speakeasy! Man on a horse holding jewels! Yet scent, at its heard, instantly takes us to our memories. I think I've finally figured out that the distinctive smell that infused my grandparents' house in South Dakota was a mix of talc, pine scented cleaner and fresh baked cookies. I might be wrong, but every once in a while I whiff something close to this and am immediately back in their 50's era kitchen with the big round drawer pulls.I think Süskind succeeded in drawing the reader a scented picture of mid-eighteenth century France. He then layers that with the development of a poor, weird creature who only has his hyper-olfactory nerves as an asset. The story ends up being bizarre, fascinating, and altogether horrifying, with layers upon layers of scent.Definitely not a book for everyone.Oh, and by the way, the lead character's name, Grenouille, means frog in French. Do frogs have a smell?


this book sounded really interesting, but i really didn't like it. couldn't wait to be done with it, but also had a hard time just finishing it cause i really didn't like it. felt like the writing and plot was just very amateurish. hopefully the movie is better.


'Perfume' tells the story of Jean-Baptiste Grenouille a boy who grew up on the streets of Paris. Jean-Baptiste was no ordinary boy, he had a gift... a sense of smell that could not be rivaled. Naturally he found his niche by becoming an apprentice to a master perfumer who teaches him the art of making perfume. He excelled at this and people were scrambling to buy his product. As he branched out and started searching for new scents to include in his perfumes, his fascination with trying to find the "ultimate perfume" takes a morbid turn when he finds that ultimate scent is coming from a beautiful woman, and he has to capture it by any means necessary.I picked this book up on a whim at a used bookstore one day simply thinking that I'd like to read something different for a change. 'Perfume' managed to root itself so deep in my mind that I still remember this novel in vivid detail to this day; I must have read it at least ten years ago. The story is disturbing in so many ways yet so unbelievably brilliant and fascinating that you can't help but be enthralled. The novel is extremely graphic at times but that's what really makes the story. Highly recommended, I love this novel it's one of my absolute favorites.Interested in more of my reviews? Visit my blog!

Nandakishore Varma

There are some books which can be called unique. They may be good, bad or indifferent: but their authors strike out from the trodden paths of narrative themes and structure to explore totally new vistas, so that the product becomes unique. Perfume by Patrick Suskind is such a book.Jean Baptiste Grenouille is "an abominable and gifted personage, in an era which was not lacking in abominable and gifted personages". Born a bastard in the stinking heart of the city of Paris in the eighteenth century under a gutting table, the first cry he utters sends his mother to the scaffold for abandoning an infant. Grenouille grows up by sucking many wet nurses dry, survives the horrendous childhood of an orphan in an age without mercy, and grows up to become a successful perfumer. For this is his unique gift: the child who does not emit any smell himself is blessed with extraordinary olfactory capabilities, which allows him to recognise, separate and catalogue in his mind all the different odours he comes into contact with.But simple identification is not enough for Jean. He is driven by the insatiable urge to possess any smell he likes for himself; he will move heaven and earth to extract it from its origin, make a perfume out of it and keep it with him. He is not bothered that the object which originates the smell will be destroyed in the process of extraction: he is a "smell-vampire". And like a vampire, it is the smell of virgins which drives him wild. Ultimately, Grenouille's gift and single-minded obsession proves to be the cause of both his uplift and undoing...Suskind has written a gripping novel which will hook and pull the reader in from the first sentence onwards. However, this is not a simple horror story or thriller: it has got layers of meaning hidden beneath one another which will come out on careful reading.Jean Baptiste Grenouille is a masterly creation. His insatiable thirst for smells makes him a truly terrifying "collector": one who cannot enjoy his passion the normal way, but must possess the object of his desire (I was reminded of Frederick Clegg in John Fowles' "The Collector") completely. The fact that he lacks a characteristic odour himself enhances his vampiric nature. Also, all the people who profit from him come to a grisly end, like the poor misguided souls who make a pact with the devil.Joseph Campbell has made the slogan "Follow your bliss" very popular - but how to know whether your bliss is good or bad? I have always wondered about the concept of "negative bliss". Both Gandhi and Hitler could have been said to be following their bliss in different ways. While reading this novel, I was struck by the realisation that the difference is in one's attitude. If one is doing it because one cannot be doing anything else - following one's karma, if you want to put it that way - then it is bliss. But if one is driven by an insatiable need which feeds on itself, one ends up being a vampire. Ultimately, it consumes oneself.Highly recommended.


** spoiler alert ** This book starts out interesting, I will give it that much. It is a story of a reclusive man, who, born without a personal odour, becomes obsessed with creating the perfect human scent. The description is interesting, and while Suskind paints a perfect picture of the scene, the idea itself is void of true substance of meaning, and tires quickly. The only thing to be valued in this book is Suskind's style of writing. The underpinning values or morals in this book is simply non existent, there is no need to probe into it, as its concepts lay obviously on the surface, with no real meaning to deduce from the work. As a read for entertainment, it may be worth it. It seems to be a fairly empty novel; which is supported by a brief synopsis. - Man kills 25 virgins, wraps them in lard to collect their scent, creates a perfume, wears the perfume on the day of his exucution, and since the scent is so "divine" it catalyses love and captures the town, weaving a spell over all its people. An orgy follows, and then Grenoiulle decides he wants to die and covers himself with the perfume, walks into a derelick park and allows himself to be eaten by those who want a piece of him due to his amazing scent. All in all, the crazy perfumer gets eaten by cannibals. Wow! - Shitty read if you ask me


I'd like to make something very clear with my review of this book. I normally don't go overboard with the whole "the movie vs. the book" argument because I'm not interested in making people's decisions for them, even though I'm strongly opinionated about the subject. But this is a case where I have to speak out. Süskind has created here a work of literary art in prose, and I take that seriously. I admire lots of books but I wouldn't say this about any old novel. The movie "Perfume" makes an utter mockery of this artwork, its incredible language (even in translation) and its profoundly disturbing character. The movie is to this book what a smudge of dirt is to a brilliant, glowing star. The movie not only fails to capture the depth and profundity of the prose but also of its unique darkness and unsettling moral bleakness. "Perfume"'s central character (in many ways, its only character) is far beyond some simplistic "good" or "evil." Rather, he is utterly disconnected from humanity. He lacks a fundamental concept of agency in other people, who are essentially conveyors or producers of smells and nothing more. He kills, not with any idea of transgression, but simply as he would break an object in order to smell it. In this he is far more terrifying than any serial killer or other contrived "evil" character, and the story of his incredible and absurd life leaves one with a deep darkness that takes a long time to dissipate after the novel is closed and shelved or passed on.The movie, as I saw it, conveyed none of this existentially disturbing character, but merely his salient features; i.e., his uncanny ability to smell and dissect smells, and even then can't possibly describe what he senses with the book's vividness and detail. In short, viewers are left with a paltry, thin gruel that denigrates and shames the original book and its author.

أحمد أبازيد Ahmad Abazed

للعطر قوّة أإناع أقوى بكثير من الكلمات , لستُ قاتلا و لا أملك نبوغا شمّيّا عاليا ولكن الأثر الآسر لامرأة واحدة تمرّ عرضا في شارع ما يكفي لأصدّق و أنتمي لهذا العطر !للسابقين إلى مساحات لم يكتب فيها غيرهم قبلا حظّ من الريادة و حقّ الاكتشاف , لا أعلم إن كان أحدهم كتب من قبل رواية مركزها العطر و الرائحة , أو عالج العطر كما عالجه زوسكند بالنموذج الذي صاغه كبلّورة لا مكان فيها لغيره , هذا التحقّق الأعلى للعطر و تأثّرنا به , هو ما سبق إليه , و هذا النموذج الذي صاغه لا يكون طبعا من غير المبالغات , لأنّ ما خرج عن العاديّ في داخله فلا بدّ أن يختار لخاجه مثل خروجه .هذه المبالغات التي قد تكون مزعجة أحيانا , و لكنّها فكرة " التحقّق الأعلى للفكرة " أو " النموذج المتبلور " هي ما أراد أن يوصلها .الرواية ستكون ممتعة فاقرؤوها , فهي غنيّة كرواية ولكن لا أقارنها بما اعتدته من ديستويفسكسي أو كونديرا أو تولستوي أو كتب أدب السجون من فلسفة و تحليل و تجلّ للعبقريّة و ألغاز الإنسان في الرواية , ربما هي فقيرة من هذه الزاوية , فلسفة العطر و عمق النفس المستغرقة في حاسة واحدة و روح التبعيّة في العامة والسرد و البنية هي غنيّة هنا فقط !!

Bryce Wilson

Because sometimes you just have to read about an 17th century perfumer who may or may not be the Anti Christ and goes on a killing spree, before starting aa giant omnisexual fuckfest and being voluntarily cannabilized. Ah literature. That's why I read you, the class. The class.


يعتقدون أنهم يشاهدون كل شيء بعيونهم "..أكان شيطاناً ، مسخاً أم شبحاً لانسان؟ جسده الضئيل قد يوحي بذلك هذا الكم الكبير من اللامبالاة ، البرود والحياة وحيداً هي ما تشير لذلك .هل كنا في يوم ما نهتم بحاسة الشم أكثر من النظرأو اللمس أو التذوق ، هل كنا نرى الاشياء بعدة حواسأم نكتفي بتكثيف حاسه واحده فقط ؟كان "غرينوي" يشم ويرى ويتذوق بأنفهاستنشق كل شيء ما عدا أهم شيء وهذا ما صنع منه هذا الشخص البالغ في الهزال واللامبلاه والغيبوبة الانسانيه .التفاصيل الدقيقه افكاره حياته تشوقه المستمر لاستنشاق كل شيءخلقت جواً فلسفياً من نوع آخر لم يتطرق له في أي روايه سابقهمنذ بداية ولادته الغريبه الى المشهد الاخير حين حول العامه والنبلاء والبرجوازيين ذلك التفصيل الاخير الى محفل كما فعل هو تماماً عندما امتص رحيق خمسة وعشرين صبيه جميله طريقة غريبه لأن يهتم الانسان بالتفاصيل مهما اختلف الغرض أوالسببانانيه اتقاما او تشفي فإن الانسان يغدو شغوفاً بما يريده وبما يؤمن به مهما كان غريباً أو مُداناً ..ُ.باختصار انها روايه لا تقرأ فقط بل تُستنشق !


I want my last 2 weeks back. I dove into this book expecting a hell of a lot more than I dragged out of it. From the very beginning I did not like the author's writing style and should have known then that this book just wouldn't be for me.This book is set in the mid-1700's France and centers around a horrid man who has no redeeming qualities other than the fact that he has likely the most perfect sense of smell in the history of mankind. But he uses this skill for selfish and evil purposes and we get to come along for the story of his life - if you could call it that.The premise of the story seemed interesting enough, and of course the title tells us that there is going to be murder so that always makes for interesting reading. But I just found it to be extremely boring and tiresome.The author obviously did his research relating to all things perfume - the methods involved in it's creation - both chemically and artistically - and the importance of it's purpose in that point in history. But he goes overboard with list after exhaustive list of ingredients or steps within a process or varieties to be found. He can't help but describe every minute detail, not just of perfume, but of the landscape or the people. I love descriptive writing - I truly do - but I do also like to have an exciting plot to keep me involved. By the time he finished describing a scene I forgot why we were there.This book lulled me to sleep and caused me to welcome distractions rather than turning the page so it took me a lot longer than a book of this length normally would. I know that it is loved by many and was recommended to me by several whose opinions I value. But this one just didn't cut it. Even when the action picked up in the last 50 pages or so, it became extremely bizarre and made me wonder what the heck the point was exactly.


This book was lent to me by a friend. This friend was really a great writer and kind of a genius but also an asshole. I should have known about this friend. Her name means sadness and she carried herself either in awkwardness or fierceness or hipper than you savagery or a combination of all of those or none of them and I’m just constructing a mythic version of her. Her writing was amazing. It was zany, rich, violent and grotesque. It would reach down into intense emotional depths and then get completely silly but even that was colored with a sort of darkness that was irrepressible. But that friend and I had a falling out, which involved a writing project a mutual friend of ours was putting together, of all things to cause a falling out but I guess some of us are more serious about some subjects than others, that led to a poisonous blog entry that she wrote on myspace and then there was a drunken party where she head-butted me in the nose and then she vanished and by vanished I mean moved to Ohio at which point we were no longer friends and I never got to return the book. To be fair, about the whole head-butt thing, according to several people at the party not only did I egg her on and say repeatedly, go ahead, do it, go ahead, but she also tried once and missed, and I being the genius I was at the time, still courted danger like a sucker. When her head did connect my nose made a crunching noise. I think it was broken and it hurt for a long time afterwards but again it was kind of my fault. I held off on reading Perfume for months and months partially because of my hurt nose and partially because it looked like a cheesy piece of shit. Then I read it and I read it quickly. It was funny, romantic, revolting, and very something I would like and I liked it. At dinner at my apartment one night, I lent it to a friend of my girlfriend. That girl never returned the book but as far as I know she hasn't read it. My girlfriend and I broke up and her and the friend are no longer friends. This makes me think that Perfume, or at least this copy of it, has some weird mojo. Well people, I will say this, if a really little, partially Jewish, partially hip, girl, with red hair, and a big sexy nose, tries to lend you a battered copy of Perfume, think twice about it. Say, to yourself, Do I want my relationships to be tested? Do I want to be head-butted?


Book Info: Genre: Literary FictionReading Level: AdultRecommended for: Those who enjoy dark, strange, twisted, yet lushly beautiful writingPlease note: I picked up and first read this book several years ago in the early aughts; I wanted to watch the movie subsequently made of this book, but wished to re-read it first to refresh my memory about the book itself. I’m not aware of having written a review for this book the first time around, as at the time I was not writing a review for everything I read.Synopsis: In the slums of eighteenth-century France, the infant Jean-Baptiste Grenouille is born with one sublime gift—an absolute sense of smell. As a boy, he lives to decipher the odors of Paris, and apprentices himself to a prominent perfumer who teaches him the ancient art of mixing precious oils and herbs. But Grenouille's genius is such that he is not satisfied to stop there, and he becomes obsessed with capturing the smells of objects such as brass doorknobs and fresh-cut wood. Then one day he catches a hint of a scent that will drive him on an ever-more-terrifying quest to create the "ultimate perfume"—the scent of a beautiful young virgin. Told with dazzling narrative brilliance, “Perfume” is a hauntingly powerful tale of murder and sensual depravity My Thoughts: What you have to understand about this book is this: it is dark. It is ugly. It is full of amazingly horrible things. This book is a love-it or hate-it book, and I have seen very few middle-of-the-road impressions of it. It is so extreme that it engenders extreme opinions. And me? I loved it! The descriptions are so incredibly vivid – you could smell the vile putrescence of Paris. “The rivers stank, the marketplaces stank, the churches stank, it stank beneath the bridges and in the palaces. The peasant stank as did the priest, the apprentice as did his master’s wife, the whole of the aristocracy stank, even the king himself stank, stank like a rank lion, and the queen like an old goat, summer and winter.” You could see how horrible everything was, but at the same time be made aware that those living there – were just living. Take Grenouille’s mother, for instance. “Grenouille’s mother, however, perceived the odor neither of the fish nor of the corpses, for her sense of smell had been utterly dulled, besides which her belly hurt, and the pain deadened all susceptibility of sensate impressions... and [she], who was still a young woman, barely in her mid-twenties, and who still was quite pretty and had almost all her teeth in her mouth and some hair on her head and – except for gout and syphilis and a touch of consumption – suffered from no serious disease, who still hoped to live a while yet, perhaps a good five or ten years, and perhaps even to marry one day and as the honorable wife of a widower with a trade or some such to bear real children... Grenouille’s mother wished that it were already over.” Amazing! This perfectly captures the ennui of Paris, I think.Grenouille is a sort of wunderkind, in that he is extraordinarily tough – “He had a tough constitution. Whatever has survived his own birth in a garbage can is not so easily shoved back out of this world again... In the course of his childhood he survived the measles, dysentery, chicken pox, cholera, a twenty-foot fall into a well, and a scalding with boiling water poured over his chest.... He was as tough as a resistant bacterium and as content as a tick sitting quietly on a tree and living off a tiny drop of blood plundered years before.” – and in that he has a phenomenal ability to differentiate scents. “At age six he had completely grasped his surroundings olfactorily. There was not an object in Madame Gaillard’s house, no place along the northern reaches of the rue de Charonne, no person, no stone, tree, bush, or picket fence, no spot be it ever so small, that he did not know by smell, could not recognize again by holding its uniqueness firmly in his memory.” However, he has no scent himself. Eventually he creates a scent to make himself smell human, but then decides to improve upon it. “He would be able to create a scent that was not merely human, but superhuman, a angel’s scent, so indescribably good and vital that whoever smelled it would be enchanted and with his whole heart would have to love him, Grenouille, the bearer of that scent. Yes, that was what he wanted – they would love him as they stood under the spell of his scent, not just accept him as one of them, but love him to the point of insanity, of self-abandonment, they would quiver with delight, scream, weep for bliss, they would sink to their knees just as if under God’s cold incense, merely to be able to smell him, Grenouille... For people could close their eyes to greatness, to horrors, to beauty, and their ears to melodies or deceiving words. But they could not escape scent.”Grenouille lives … exists... in a state of barely there, at least until he first smells the scent that will send him on his lifelong quest. Then... ah, then he is obsessed. “Never before in his life had he known what happiness was. He knew at most some very rare states of numbed contentment. But now he was quivering with happiness and could not sleep for pure bliss. It was as if he had been born a second time; no, not a second time, the first time, for until now he had merely existed like an animal with a most nebulous self-awareness. but after today, he felt as if he finally knew who he really was: nothing less than a genius... He had found the compass for his future life. And like all gifted abominations, for whom some external event makes straight the way down into the chaotic vortex of their souls, Grenouille never again departed from what he believed was the direction fate had pointed him... He must become a creator of scents... the greatest perfumer of all time.” Scents are the only things that matter to him: “That scented soul, that ethereal oil, was in fact that best thing about matter, the only reason for his interest in it. the rest of the stupid stuff – the blossoms, leaves, rind, fruit, color, beauty vitality, and all those other useless qualities – were of no concern to him. they were mere husk and ballast, to be disposed of.” His misanthropic nature is further expressed once he leaves Paris. “...it became clear to Grenouille for the first time that for eighteen years their compacted human effluvium had oppressed him like air heavy with an imminent thunderstorm. Until now he had thought that it was the world in general he wanted to squirm away from. But it was not the world, it was the people in it. You could live, so it seemed, in this world, in this world devoid of humanity.”This book is not just about Grenouille, of course – it is about a time, and about Grenouille as a product of that time. It was a time of great change, a time of revolution, a time when the long-established way of things was being overturned. “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 bouquet that you changed a soupçon every ten years or so... Or this insanity for speed. What was the need for all these new roads being dug up everywhere, and these new bridges? … What was the advantage of being in Lyon in a week?... Or crossing the Atlantic, racing to American in a month – as if people hadn’t got along without that continent for thousands of years... People even traveled to Lapland... The very attitude was perverse.” Of course, this general attitude could easily fit an older, established person’s thinking about any specific time you want to discuss. Also, the 18th century, like many centuries, ended in war. “Meanwhile war raged in the world outside, a world war. Men fought in Silesia and Saxony, in Hanover and the Low Countries, in Bohemia and Pomerania. The king’s troops died in Hesse and Westphalia on the Balearic Islands, in India, on the Mississippi and in Canada, if they had not already succumbed to typhoid on the journey. the war robbed a million people of their lives, France of its colonial empire, and all the warring nations of so much money that they finally decided, with heavy hearts, to end it.”Additionally, it was a time of many beliefs that to us, from the distance of centuries, appear to be nothing but superstition. Yet, at the same time, fear reduces us all to a similar state of suspicion, such as when young virgins in Grasse begin being murdered. “People suspected the gypsies...however, no gypsies around at the time, not a one, near or far... For lack of gypsies, people decided to suspect the Italian migrant workers. But there weren’t any Italians around either...Finally the wig-makers came under suspicion... To no avail. Then it was the Jews...then the monks of the Benedictine cloister... then the Cistercians, then the Freemasons, then the lunatics from the Charité, then the charcoal burners, then the beggars, and last but not least the nobility, in particular the marquis of Cabris, for he had already been married three times and organized – so it was said – orgiastic black masses in his cellars, where he drank the blood of virgins...”I was astonished to find this opinion about the state of an infant’s soul, given by a priest no less: “An infant is not yet a human being; it is a prehuman being and does not yet possess fully developed soul.” Yet infanticide is serious enough to warrant the death penalty, as one sees when it is discovered Grenouille’s mother would have left him to die as she did her first four babies. One wonders if modern pro-life activists with their “a child is a human as soon as it is created” ideas are aware of this amazing opinion of the 18th century Catholic church? But it’s not just the church with these thoughts. The perfumer, Baldini, thinks of children thus: “...one of those unapproachable, incomprehensible, willful little prehuman creatures, who in their ostensible innocence think only of themselves, who want to subordinate the whole world to their despotic will, and would do it, too, if one let them pursue their megalomaniacal ways and did not apply the strictest pedagogical principles to guide them to a disciplined, self-controlled, fully human existence.”The ending is, of course, just as shocking as the entire story, and very strange, dark and twisted – then again, that describes generally the whole story. Not at all recommended for people who don’t have a bit of darkness lurking in their soul, but if you don’t mind dabbling into the darkness and want to enjoy some unbelievably beautiful and lush writing, definitely check out this book.

Carmo Santos

Gostei de tudo neste livro. Desde a história magnifica que não se assemelhou a nada que já tivesse lido e que o autor desenvolveu de forma criativa e surpreendente, à linguagem clara e requintada, sem ser pretensiosa. As descrições são ricas, sem monotonia,e os diálogos expressivos e diretos, sem conversas inúteis. A escrita adapta-se às variadas situações, por vezes tão melancólica que deixa um nó na garganta, outras subtilmente irónica, ou ainda divertida capaz de levar ao riso. As personagens são elaboradas e bem estruturadas com personalidades fortes e singulares.Patrick S. leva-nos a Paris em pleno sec.XVIII, a uma época em que a imagem da cidade luz era bem diferente daquela que conhecemos hoje. A partir daí é uma viagem pelos aromas de França guiados pelo narizinho de Jean-Baptiste.Jean-Baptiste Grenouile nasceu no sítio mais fedorento da cidade, no seio da maior imundície e da mais profunda miséria humana, literalmente despejado naquele terreno estéril onde não vingavam afetos.Dotado de uma maldade intrínseca e desprezando todos à sua volta, esquivou-se à morte, revelando uma tenacidade que haveria de o acompanhar ao longo da vida, e trilhou o seu caminho sem se prender a nada nem a ninguém, vivendo como um animal solitário e evitando contacto humano, a não ser que daí colhesse algum beneficio.Nasceu com um olfato capaz de captar o mais ínfimo aroma. Desde bebé que olhava com as narinas, devassava o intimo de quem com ele se cruzava, e era meticuloso a selecionar e catalogar todos os cheiros que guardava na sua memória, para nunca mais os esquecer.Ele, que por um bizarro capricho do destino havia nascido sem odor corporal, vai dedicar-se à criação de um perfume o mais parecido possível com o cheiro do corpo humano, aquele que representará a sua própria identidade. Para isso, reuniu meticulosamente os ingredientes necessários e através do método mais macabro, vai criar a fórmula mágica para um perfume hipnotizante. Tinha a fantasia louca de ser adorado, idolatrado e amado sem limites. Aqui, os nossos corações amanteigados podem pensar : Coitado, ficou assim pelas circunstâncias em que nasceu e viveu, pela falta de amor e carinho. Puro engano. Jean- Baptiste Grenouille era genuinamente mau e calculista, sabia-o, e tinha orgulho nisso. Apesar da personagem principal dominar toda a história, foi por Giuseppe Baldini, que fiquei encantada mal me foi apresentado.Este egocêntrico tradicionalista, preso às glorias passadas, hostil a toda e qualquer inovação, consagrou-se perfumista famoso mais por uma sucessão de felizes acasos do que por genuíno talento. Agora, que o declínio se avizinha rói-se de inveja do seu rival, Pélissier, um "vinagreiro" inovador que tem a ousadia de criar perfumes novos como se não houvesse amanhã, e ainda por cima - que descaramento... com sucesso! Baldini rebaixa-o, chama-lhe sarcasticamente: "porquinho" e "animal fedorento" entre outras pérolas, mas de forma tão divertida que se torna hilariante. Claro que paralelamente,vai criando estratagemas para lhe roubar as formulas. Uma personagem deliciosa. Desempenhou um papel fundamental na vida de Jean-Baptiste, e vice-versa.Das restantes personagens, nenhuma me marcou especialmente. Desempenharam o seu papel na devida altura e o autor teve o cuidado de lhes dar um rumo e um final, ainda que isso não fosse fundamental para o desenlace da história. Vi o filme, li o livro, vi o filme outra vez, e não tenho a menor duvida. O filme é bom mas o livro é extraordinário.

Rinda Elwakil

قرأتها و شاهدتها فيلما ..كاتب متميز فكر خارج الصندوق و أنتج فكرة عجيبه لا أدري من أي مكان جاء بها من تلك الوديان البعيده التي يأتي للشعراء و الكتاب جميعا منها الإلهام ..A master piece ..لطالما احببت الأعمال الفنية اللتي تترك في فمك مذاقا ما .. التي لا تعود الحياة بعدها كما كانت , منها العطر ..رأيت أثناء قرائتي البطل طفلا يشم كل شئ في جشعأشفقت عليه طفلا بالرغم من نفور جميع من حوله منه..و هو يقوم بخلط العطور بدون قواعد .. رأيته و هو يري الفتاه قتيلته الأولي في منامه .. يتذكر شذاها , يحاول الإمساك به الإحتفاظ به للأبد و من ثم يراه كالزئبق ينسل من بين يديه ... فيصرخ و يستيقظ رأيت ذلك الجنون في عينيه و هو يستخلص مكونات سحره , العطر ..انتهيت من قرائتها و من ثم شاهدتها فيلما , كان أفضل مما توقعت من الأفلام ألا تكون بمستوي الروايات دوما .. النهايه رائعه ..عمل لن أمل من إعادة قرائته , و رؤيته علي الشاشه .. العطر ..أنصح بها بشدة , علي مسئوليتي الشخصية :))

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