I thought I was going to hate this book. I've no idea why. Maybe it was the title, or the trailer for the film I'd seen before. It just looked like something I wasn't going to like. I repeat, I was not going to like this book. How could I like this book? It's set a couple of centuries ago, in Paris, is based on the sense of smell, the art of perfumery, and murder. I don't like any of those things (especially murder, murder is lame). I wasn't going to like this book. I couldn't like this book.
I really liked this book. It's difficult to put my finger on why if I'm honest with you. Maybe it was the constantly deep descriptive language that was used, that enabled you as a reader to envisage everything playing out in your head. The way that each scent was described to its fullest, in ways that I could only imagine. Maybe it was the way that you simultaneously adored and despised the main character, Jean Baptiste Grenouille. His impossible beginnings, his obsession and adoration for scent, a sense that I only remark about when in the negative, his absolute and undeniable purity, all of these made you want his story to play out as he wanted to. But his actions, the fact that he was so intensely obsessed with scent, and the downright vulgarity of some of his actions, made you hope for his demise. The book manages to give both of these an avenue, and is all the better for it. All of the other characters in the book inspire similar mixed feelings. The aging perfumer Baldini in particular, gives no reason for liking him, but you still want him to succeed and are relieved when he meets his end.
So despite all of my immediate worries, I immensely enjoyed this book. I'll be interested in seeing the film some time over Christmas.
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