“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.”
In this quote from Patrick Suskind's novel, "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.” - the reader is provided with insight into the mother's physical and emotional state. The description of her dulled sense of smell and physical pain serves as a metaphor for her overall numbness and detachment from the world around her. This quote foreshadows the tragic circumstances that will later unfold in the narrative, as Grenouille's mother is unable to fully engage with her surroundings.
In Patrick Suskind's novel "Perfume: The Story of a Murderer," the character Grenouille's heightened sense of smell plays a significant role in the story. This quote highlights the contrast between Grenouille's acute olfactory senses and his mother's dulled sense of smell. In today's society, this quote can serve as a reminder of the importance of being in tune with our senses and the world around us. It can also prompt reflection on how our physical and emotional state can affect our perception of the world.
In Patrick Suskind's novel Perfume, the protagonist's mother is depicted as being in a state of physical and emotional distress, leading to a dulling of her senses. The passage illustrates how pain can affect one's ability to perceive sensory stimuli.
In the passage provided, Patrick Suskind describes Grenouille's mother as having a dulled sense of smell due to her pain. This raises questions about the role of pain in affecting our perception and sensory experiences. Reflect on the following questions:
“and Grenouille’s mother, 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.”
“...his sleep, though deep as death itself, was not dreamless this time, but threaded with ghostly wisps of dreams. These wisps were clearly recognizable as scraps of odors. At first they merely floated in thin threads past Grenouille's nose, but then they grew thicker, more cloudlike. And now it seemed as if he were standing in the middle of a moor from which fog was rising. The fog slowly climbed higher. Soon Grenouille was completely wrapped in fog, saturated with fog, and it seemed he could not get his breath for the foggy vapor. If he did not want to suffocate, he would have to breathe the fog in. And the fog was, as noted, an odor. And Grenouille knew what kind of odor. The fog ws his own odor. His, Grenouille's, own body odor was the fog.And the awful thing was that Grenouille, although he knew that his odor was his odor, could not smell it. Virtually drowning in himself, he could not for the life of him smell himself!”
“Although he had used it very sparingly, the perfume that he had mixed in Montpellier was slowly was slowly running out. He created a new one. But this time he was not content simply to imitate basic human odor by hastily tossing together some ingredients; he made it a matter of pride to acquire a personal odor, or better yet, a number of personal odors...Protected by these various odors, which he changed like clothes as the situation demanded and which permitted him to move undisturbed in the world of men and to keep his true nature from them, Grenouille devoted himself to his real passion: the subtle pursuit of scent.”
“He had no use for sensual gratification, unless that gratification consisted of pure, incorporeal odors.”
“He had preserved the best part of her and made it his own: the principle of her scent.”
“As he took possession of it, he was overcome by a sense of something like sacred awe. He carefully spread his horse blanket on the ground as if dressing an altar and lay down on it. He felt blessedly wonderful. He was lying a hundred and fifty feet below the earth, inside the loneliest mountain in France - as if in his own grave. Never in his life had he felt so secure, certainly not in his mother's belly. The world could go up on flames out there, but he would not even notice it here. He even began to cry softly. He did not know who to thank for such good fortune.”