From the New York Times perfume critic, a stylish, fascinating, unprecedented insider's view of the global perfume industry, told through two creators working on two very different scents.
No journalist has ever been allowed into the ultrasecretive, highly pressured process of originating a perfume. But Chandler Burr, the New York Times perfume critic, spent a year behind the scenes observing the creation of two major fragrances. Now, writing with wit and elegance, he juxtaposes the stories of the perfumes -- one created by a Frenchman in Paris for an exclusive luxury-goods house, the other made in New York by actress Sarah Jessica Parker and Coty, Inc., a giant international corporation.
We follow Coty's mating of star power to the marketing of perfume, watching Sex and the City 's Parker heading a hugely expensive campaign to launch a scent into the overcrowded celebrity market. Will she match the success of Jennifer Lopez? Does she have the international fan base to drive worldwide sales?
In Paris at the elegant Hermès, we see Jean Claude Ellena, his company's new head perfumer, given a he must create a scent to resuscitate Hermès's perfume business and challenge le monstre of the industry, bestselling Chanel No. 5. Will his pilgrimage to a garden on the Nile supply the inspiration he needs?
The Perfect Scent is the story of two daring creators, two very different scents, and a billion-dollar industry that runs on the invisible magic of perfume.
Chandler Burr is the New York Times scent critic and author of The Perfect Scent, The Emperor of Scent, and A Separate Creation. He has written for The Atlantic and The New Yorker. He lives in New York City.
I finished this book a while back. I'm not sure what to say except that Chandler Burr knows the perfume industry inside out. Knowing that, it seems odd to me that there are no scandals, everyone behaves perfectly well and fairly. This just isn't how business works, this is how PR works. Another revenue stream for the author?
Additionally Sarah Jessica Parker has far, far more input into 'her' perfume than any of the other celebrities who have no input at all, they are just advertising faces on negotiated contracts and the buying public are the fools for thinking that Beyonce, Paris Hilton or anyone else has necessarily even sniffed the perfume before being photographed and the press releases issued. SJP does get to choose from 3 scents, then 3 bottles, then 3 boxes... what a joke.
I have never bought an eponymously-named celebrity perfume, but I'm kind of wondering what the fat-bottomed Kardashian fragrances are like. How do you represent grossly greedy in a scent? Does is come packaged in a plastic box? Am I being told that a little of the Kardashian glamour will rub off on me if I do buy it? That is certainly the implication of the Sarah Jessica Parker one.
What does it say that I wear Chanel Allure? Dpes it say I am sophisticated, rich and well-travelled (I'm one of the three, guess which!) Or only that no one else ever comments on any perfume I do wear except this one? Why would I turn down a compliment even if it's for the scent not me? So I wear it and take every compliment personally.
Nice light reading if you prefer non-fiction but not really an expose of the industry at all.
_________
Notes on reading Sarah Jessica Parker. I've just had an ah-hah moment. Syn-chron-icity! SJP is supposed to be creating her own scent for Coty. I thought she was just lending her name, as celebrities do. She has been going on about hating florals wanting a dirty scent and rejecting this one and that, and it's all sounded a bit pretentious. But then, for a publicity campaign, she is out with the author and photographer and says how she used to create her own scent from a drug store musk oil - Bonne Belle (the old formula), an Egyptian oil from a street vendor, mixed together with her sexy, dirty main perfume, Comme des Garcons Incense Avignon. I can smell that blend, dirty and heavy, yes. Delicious. So she has a lot more credibility than the celebrities that just sell their names to a brand.
Now SJP wears Guerlain's Vetiver so there's the synchronicity In the spoilers below, my notes before buying the book, I said I wear Comptoir du sud Pacifique's Vetyver Haiti. I love those strong, dry, masculine grassy scents. They smell like the Amazon did. Rainforest in a bottle.
Also she likes Yvez Saint Laurent's Paris which I used to love. I've never seen Sex in the City, but now I want to see SJP. _______
Time on To-Read List: 1 year (5 months on physical pile, given by a friend) Reason for Still Lurking on To-Read: Not What Fingers Spasmodically Reach For Motivation For Finally Picking It Up: I read the first few pages (and then didn’t stop).
Man, if you would have told me that I would read, much less enjoy, much less THROUGHLY enjoy and insist upon reading aloud from on multiple occasions, what is essentially an industry analysis book, I would have held out my hand and said, “Hi, I’m Kelly. Nice to meet you. Since I assume you are mistaking me for some chick you think I look like you met at your Wall Street happy hour that CLEARLY went on for far longer than an hour.” I mean, I am seldom biased against any section in the store (okay, that “Sports Memoir” area is unlikely to see me except for about 20 minutes a week before my dad’s birthday every year)… but wow would you have to give me a compelling reason to go anywhere near the Business section.
Thankfully, somebody clearly knew this about me. And about the thousands of other people like me who totally should read this amazing book but not in a million years would have if it was packaged and shelved the way it logically should be. They slapped pictures of gorgeous tropical fruit and bright flowers on it, painted it a faded Tuscan tan-yellow and tucked in a picture of Somewhere-on-the-Mediterranean-Coast. Then they used that instantly recognizable NYT font to put the words “Chandler Burr- Scent Critic for T: The New York Times Style Magazine,” right in the middle of it.
WTF? Such a thing exists? And is a real job that someone gets paid for? In the 21st century? And your perfectly conceptualized cover is trying to tell me that that job is as ridiculously amazing as I would expect it to be? Aw, cover designer. You knew I could not resist such a thing. You know, with “don’t judge a book by its cover,” basically being kind of the first password you learn in booknerdland, I feel like I usually don’t have a socially acceptable occasion to toast cover designers or book marketers. But you know what? Suck it! I’m raising a glass to these unsung heroes! One in particular: Well done… Meryl Sussman Levavi. Without you, there is NO CHANCE I would have thought to come anywhere close to the incredibly fun experience of this book.
I’m so glad that this book happened to be the first solo book review I’ll be posting on my blog, because it is a fantastic argument for giving that book you were sort of interested in at one point a try. That book that no longer looks so shiny, or perhaps you feel ashamed that you were interested in. This book overcame any lingering doubts I might have had with very little trouble at all.
Okay, so let me get to the thing itself. Here’s the deal:
The Perfect Scent is, as advertised, an overview of the inner workings of the perfume industry. The action focuses mostly around Paris and New York, where Burr is given the opportunity to observe the process of conceptualizing, creating and launching two rather radically different perfumes. One is Sarah Jessica Parker’s first perfume, Lovely. The other is Un Jardin Sur Nil, a scent created for Hermes by the famous Jean-Claude Ellena (the first in-house “nose” in the Hermes’ history)
I have probably worn cologne less than a handful of times in my life. I have no real interest in perfume. And yet, I was drawn to this book precisely because of my lack of interest in the subject. Perfume is something I so rarely think about that the idea that whole lives revolve around this intrigued me (just as say, a book about hair care products probably would, or laundry detergent). Burr, who covers the perfume industry for the New York Times (again, another surprise--that someone on a newspaper staff actually has as his sole job to cover scents), goes into a single year in the industry, and really into the making of two particular perfumes. One is a high-end fashion perfume, Un Jardin sur le Nil, and the other is a celebrity endorsed commercial perfume, Sarah Jessica Parker's Lovely. What emerges is a story of an industry whose production components bear similarities to the industry I'm more familiar with, books--that same banter back and forth between marketing and the people who do the production of the product, that same time versus cost concern, that same set of people behind a product that one never hears about or knows about, those same kinds of fads that persist for a half a decade and then seem hopelessly in bad taste (in the sixties, dirty/sweaty/animal smells were in, smells one would, as Burr notes, get kicked out of restaurants for today; by the eighties, clean became hip), those same consistent best-sellers that never seem to die (Chanel No. 5). And then there are the people the book portrays, with two central figures in particular: Parker, who comes across as a very likable person; and Ellena, the perfumer at the high-end Hermès, who seems the consummately conscientious artist.
But most fascinating of all is Burr's--and every character in the book's--attention to smell. Despite the fact that smell is supposedly the strongest sense in terms of spurring memories, I have never spent so much time thinking about it. I can't say I even notice most smells, unless they're the stench of something rotting on the bus, something that makes me want to move away. Here, Burr introduces a bevy of them, describing them in ways that often aren't smells at all, at least, not in the manner that I'd think of them--smells with colors, with weights, with stories. And then there are the perfumes themselves, modeled after animals or detergent or sweat or car exhaust or fruit or flowers or cement after rain. I was so inspired at one point, I went to my medicine cabinet and pulled out the four bottles of cologne I've collected over the years--gifts I never wear--and stuck each one to my nose. Indeed, some of them do have characteristics that vaguely resemble something else. One of my scents is definitely citrus; another is vaguely like motor oil. The other two, however, as one not versed in the signification of smell, I could not really discern as anything other than simply perfume--a particular kind of alcohol. But I'm tempted, now, to walk into the mall and play among the spray bottles, testing what it is the perfumer has attempted to do. I feel like a whole other world has opened to me.
It's quite likely that anyone with a fanatical perfume hobby, such as me, will eat up this book. I certainly did. It covered some territory I already knew, but on the whole it was quite the eye-opener about the strange and magical and illogical world of modern perfumery. Burr's assorted opinions on various fragrances are at times hilarious (he compares certain popular scents to weed killer and nerve gas), and always evocative ("the scent of a European man removing his underwear in August"--okay, I need to smell that one [Yatagan] again). Reading it spurred me to head over to The Perfumed Court and LuckyScent and order a couple boxes of new samples to sniff. Glad I did. This is a delightful hobby. And Burr obviously understands the appeal behind it. I'll be interested to read 'The Emperor of Scent' and others by him.
I enjoyed this immensely. It's one of those books one carries around reading aloud from. Full of fascinating chemistry tidbits as well as the slightly less fascinating celebrity/designer ones. Burr's scathing, off-the-cuff assessments of current perfumes are hilarious, as are his other asides. Here's a favorite quote:
"Perfumers are deeply strange people simply because their sensorial perception of the world is so highly trained. The educated olfactory capacity makes spending time with them not unlike spending time with talking Labradors."
Another book about perfume that is one of my favs of the year so far... This was deliciously technical but also so dramatic it could easily be adapted into a movie. I definitely want to reread this someday - there's so much interesting info in here I didn't feel like I could process it all in only one read. The way the author described men's perfumes was really funny but also got taken kind of far as a bit lmao. Half a star (maybe even a full star) off because there were these weird comments and descriptors sprinkled throughout this that really threw me off (so much describing people as their nationality and body type and a weird comment comparing French smoking rooms to Nazi gas chambers??? was this the type of joke people made in 2005?)
Incredibly interesting read if you're at all interested in perfume. Very technical but at the same time very accessible and honestly kind of a page turner.
This was a bit of a let-down after having just read Chandler Burr's previous book. It was hard to get excited about Sarah Jessica Parker nor even about the perfumer Jean Claude Ellena. Details about industry and the celebrity stuff didn't grab me. Turns out he wrote this at an outdoor cafe in Rome. Not a surprise - you can tell his priorities were elsewhere.
I picked at it, and liked a lot of it, but I don't think I'll finish it. It reminds me of food writing, in the way it makes you think about a sensory experience. What goes into creating the scent of a perfume (a lot!), the evolution of techniques, different schools of thought, inside baseball and backbiting -- fun stuff. But the book is kind of ponderous and I'm losing interest. Also, the author clearly has a crush on Sarah Jessica Parker (he follows her around as she's developing her perfumes) and it's getting tiresome.
Interesting enough, but Burr is such an absolutely horribly annoying writer that I couldn't continue. Yes, we know people in France speak French, you don't need to insert French dialogue every other sentence and then translate it for us.
In my recent review of the literature, I've found that nonfiction perfume books almost always fall into one of the following categories: onanistic personal memoir, obsession with France, idiotic how-to guide, and misinformation about natural vs synthetic chemicals. They are all, without question, boring or terrible. While this book in particular is interesting in the way that it combines two categories (onanistic personal memoir and obsession with France), it is not interesting in the way that it is completely not interesting. (In fiction perfume books, the categories are as follows: heterosexual historical romance, obsession with France, and men murdering women. Anna Dorn has also recently introduced 'contemporary lesbians' as an extremely exciting possible new category. While many fiction perfume books are boring or terrible, some of them can be quite good or even revelatory, e.g. Anna Dorn's contemporary lesbians entry.)
Why, I ask, are nonfiction perfume books so so so SO bad? Why is there no critical lens, no interesting insights, no sumptuous or evocative writing, no style, no taste? Why is there only weirdly unveiled misogyny, francophilia, and fuck-ass boring self reflections? I get that all the cool scholars and anthropologists want to study smells and not perfumes, but LISTEN, perfume culture is also a culture and it NEEDS you!!! Also the way people interact with fragrances is very interesting!!! There is a plenty to unpack and to witness here!!! Aaaaaaaaaaa!!!
I am slightly anosmic so I'm very curious about what it's like to experience perfumes. Chandler Burr writes about perfumes using evocative images from your other senses so that I can kind of experience the perfume. Here is an example:
"Lovely" is the lightest olfactory party dress of powder and sweet, the scent equivalent of the terrific wrap of soft floating mesh fabric I saw one summer enveloping the shoulders of a young woman, a physical cloud she wore elegantly through the East Village streets. One notices that lovely wrap. But "Lovely" is modernest school in behavior. The perfume melts into you, and there is a point in its development when the other person will stop seeing the wrap--where the scent stops behaving like a coat--and sees only the wearer, who is somehow prettier, more delicate--enhanced--in an indefinable way. The perfume, as "the perfume", has disappeared, leaving only you.
Though Burr wields a deft pen- he repeatedly manages to evoke complex smells with prose so evocative you want to sneeze- the overall effect of this book is one of stultifying materialism and shallow fashionabilty. "So much time for so little purpose" aptly describes this book and the industry it portrays.
This is as close as you'll ever get to action adventure writing in the world of perfume. It clearly illustrates, and name drops like a pro, the New York and Paris experience of bringing a scent from licensing agreement to consumer market launch - if you were ever interested... not for the anosmic or those who could careless about the business of international fragrances.
Tenía mucho miedo de empezar a leer este libro porque no quería decepcionarme. En todo momento tuve unas expectativas claras y supe lo que quería que significase para mí pero, realmente, no sabía qué buscaba, algo personal seguro (además de conocimiento acerca de la perfumería). Y he tenido mucha suerte, todos mis deseos se han cumplido (el challenge era complicau). He podido leer un libro magistral acerca del mundo del perfume y en el proceso he aprendido muchas cosas sobre mí misma (momento desvelamiento).
Burr ha hecho un trabajo periodístico exquisito. Más allá del evidente esfuerzo en documentarse como es debido, el libro está escrito maravillosamente bien. A veces te olvidas de que ÉL está contado la historia de Jean-Claude con su Jardir Sur le Nil para la casa Hermès y de Lovely el perfume que Sarah Jessica Parker lanzó con Coty, mientras que en otras ocasiones ves a Burr como lo que verdaderamente es: un personaje más que participa activamente en la historia y que de hecho, es muy relevante. No se limita a contarte el lanzamiento de ambos perfumes y su desarrollo (que ya es mucho), ni a soltar funfacts de la industria, sino que aporta la perspectiva humana que te hace conocer a los implicados de una manera profunda y real. Por poner un ejemplo. Yo solo conocía a SJP de Sexo en Nueva York y de alguna otra película más y me he llevado una grandísima sorpresa porque es todo lo contrario a lo que puede aparentar. Me ha parecido un ser humano que irradia luz y me he sentido bastante identificada (gustos muy similares y una pasión conmovedora).
Como ya comenté en una ocasión, me entristece no haber estudiado química porque sería feliz trabajando las moléculas para representar los perfumes ideales que residen en mi cabeza.
Crear un perfume requiere técnica y es, en su mejor versión, una forma de arte y de expresión que en mi opinión se equipara a la poesía.
Algunos ya sabéis de mis "obsesiones" (del espectro xd) con los olores y los sabores, pues ahora estoy peor, porque veo que de mi locura se pueden crear cosas realmente bellas y transcendentes no sólo a nivel estético, sino también intelectual.
Este libro ha sido una epifanía y vamos a ver a qué nos lleva...
Such kismet that one of the scents this book is about (Hermes un jardin sur le Nil) is maybe the first perfume I ever owned! Of course I completely forgot until now but I remember it perfectly me as a 14 year old treasuring my tinyyy green bottle now knowing it is inspired by green mango and lotus root anyways read this in a sleepy afternoon listening to Ryuichi Sakamoto feeling melancholy I am deep in the perfume train can’t get off
The Perfect Scent by Chandler Burr is the story of creating and marketing a fragrance for the very rich and two disparate approaches taken by luxury houses in the trade. One, the anonymous (to the public at large) but indispensable perfumier working for an absolutely top-of-the-line house (in this case, Jean-Claude Ellena for Hermes), the other, the launch of a "celebrity scent", in this case Sarah Jessica Parker's for Coty. My first thought, even before opening the book, was "There's such a thing as a perfume critic?" My second thought, just a few pages in, was "I don't know, never have known, and never will know anybody like the people in this book- and I wouldn't want to either." But, once I got into the book (and because I am curious about, well, just about everything), I was captivated by the behind-the-scenes look at an industry to which I had never previously given a second's thought. Not only that, I now realize that while the marketing of perfume is indeed an industry, the making of perfume is an art, and this, if for no other reason (and there were other reasons), made The Perfect Scent a worthwhile read. Who would have guessed (outside of the tiny circle at the top of the high-end scent industry) that the story behind the various perfume houses is a subject worthy of a serious cultural historian? Likewise, who would have guessed that the story of the French village of Grasse and its long tradition of family perfumiers would be so engrossing? The story of the molecular chemistry behind the birthing of a new scent reads like the very best of scientific popularization, the story of the labyrinthian conflict between the various houses reads like a well-wrought and technically dead-on espionage thriller, and the discussion of the Natural vs. Synthetic battles being waged between the perfumiers behind corporate fortifications was an eye-opener for anybody with even a twinkle of interest in the bond between the real (chemistry) and the fabricated (the great perfume houses). Of particular interest was the huge gap between the creators of the scents (for whom it is a labor of love) and the vultures in suits who take the credit for them (even if they themselves can't smell the difference between an indole and an orange). Burr makes this point brilliantly and devastatingly clear with a single sentence as sharp as it is true from page 136:
"Millions are fascinated by the process by which designers Todd Oldham cut, sew, design and agonize their fall collections into existence, the great creative minds at Yves St. Laurent and Jean Paul Gautier and Dior, with the collective brilliance of a single mollusk at low tide, have intuited that with perfume- No."
Another fascinating sidebar story was the process by which a "celebrity scent" is created and marketed and the amount of involvement (or total lack thereof) the "celebrity" has in the creation of "their" scent. Some (almost all) "celebrities" are involved only to the extent that their lawyer tries to extract every possible sou from the company seeking to profit from their transient ascendancy. SJP, on the other hand, knew exactly what she wanted in a scent and was thrilled to be involved in- and learn about- the science and creation of a fragrance. Yet another aspect of the industry about which I hadn't a clue before reading The Perfect Scent but now find quite fascinating is the time, effort, research, funds and artistic creativity which go into designing both the bottle for the scent and the box in which the bottle is be is to marketed. Now, this was not a perfect book by any means- the descriptions of the scents seem at times to be forced, like the guest eaters comments on the original Japanese Iron Chef, but the fact that it was still an entertaining and absorbing read speaks well of both the author and his ability to capture the attention of someone who was a complete and total ignoramus of the subject written about. Well, I am an ignoramus no longer, and I have to say that re. perfume and perfumiers, the Perfect Scent will be hard to top. Oh, and I also now realize that the people in this book, those who I have no desire to actually meet, would have no desire to meet me either, and that seems imminently fair and reasonable. And, in the spirit of Columbo, just one more thing: There is one person in this book I would actually like to meet- Sarah Jessica Parker. She is either the nicest person in "Show Business" or the greatest living actress. I prefer to think the former.
Chandler Burr takes us on a tour of the industry through the making of two perfumes. As head perfumer, Jean-Claude Ellena has significantly more creative control than Sarah Jessica Parker, who serves more as a muse and picks things out of a lineup. Like The Emperor of Scent, this book is at its best when Burr assesses fragrances and smell. Otherwise, he gets sidetracked often and it's a bit distracting.
3.75 stars if I could. The first time I opened this book I soared through 100 pages in a day. I personally found it very captivating as a look under the hood of the perfume industry, which is a craft I’ve become interested in. However, to have the Pringles effect one has to have a Pringle’s appetite. I’m not sure others would share my experience because delving into concepts of aroma chemicals, formulation briefs, and maceration times of industry gurus may fly over most heads but are things I find very valuable to know since resources for that data aren’t readily available.
The way the author freely writes reveals he has no problem making enemies in the name of the truth. For that, I appreciate this book. He not only removes the veil covering the perfume industry, he torches it. He exposes it for what it is and gives credit where credit is due.
There are a few reasons I didn’t rate this book higher. One, as a heterosexual male, there are a few descriptions of fragrances I’ll probably never understand whereas the author might find erotic yet I find nauseating, but maybe if I reverse the gender I can get down with that... Also, there was a brief section in the middle of the book which lasted a handful of pages describing an event in Paris which I couldn’t really distinguish why it was included. I felt like the Author tossed a pair of Gucci glasses on my face, dressed me up in a suede tux, and made me hang out with him while he judged the ritzy people unawares that he was a part of it all. Like the snake eating it’s own tail and I didn’t really enjoy that! But maybe that’s why he included it. Also, there was some repetition which may have slid past the editors, like pieces of the book were accidentally doubled at random.
I did enjoy the juxtaposition of following two different approaches simultaneously with Coty developing the celebrity SJP fragrance, and Hermès working on an in house creation with Ellana. I personally was more enamored with the Hermès story, I relate to Ellana more. He’s a creative stuck between being an artisan and a craftsman. The author captures perfectly the tensions of the unique and mysterious life a perfumist lives. On the other hand, SJP seems like a sweet person, but she lives in lala land. They overshot their sales projections by hundreds of thousands of dollars and she didn’t seem phased, if anything nervous that it wasn’t good enough. She waltzes into a restaurant and the owner refuses to let her pay, but she leaves a tip larger than what the bill would be. She’s truly humble but something between the lines reads that she’s completely detached. It’s like she’s handed the world on a silver platter but has no problem giving the platter away because she’s already got a few in the cabinet.
Anyways. Still a great book and captivating writer. And I LOVE when the Author describes his thoughts on modern American fragrances : “I think of the hole in the ozone layer”.
Let me preface this review by saying that I don't know anything about perfumes. I had no real awareness of it growing up (my mother never wore scents) and even though I'm always curious, the sheer cost of "getting into" perfume has put me off it for the time being. However, I picked up this book because I love the behind-the-scenes details of any industry and perfume has always been extra mysterious to me.
I'm usually pretty slow when it comes to reading nonfiction but this book just sped by for me, which is really a testament to Burr's incredible writing. He takes the reader on a seemingly simple journey: two people, each creating a brand new perfume, plus all the sidebars and extras that such a process entails. Along the way he debunks a lot of perfume myths and mumbo-jumbo and gives a clear picture of where the perfume industry stands today. He talks about a lot of famous and/or current perfumes with the assumption that the reader is somewhat familiar with them, but not so familiar that he can say a name and the reader will conjure up a smell - he makes sure to describe them as concisely as possible (in a "I know you probably know this scent but here's the Wikipedia summary of it" kind of way) and his scathing descriptions of perfumes he dislikes are hilarious. (Sidenote: his descriptions of various musks, however, are sort of nauseating but I'm pretty sure he doesn't mean them to be; still, when I next go to look for a perfume I think I'll avoid anything described as "musky.") You can really see his journalism background in the pacing of the book: each chapter reads like a newspaper article, as though the whole book was really a compilation of a serialized column in the NY Times. And lastly you have to appreciate Burr's tongue-in-cheek approach to the business as a whole; he knows he's writing about an extravagant and self-deluded industry and he's not afraid to call them out on it.
I've recently gotten very interested in perfume, so of course I was dying to read this. Burr is the perfume critic for the New York Times (who knew?), and he follows the creation of two perfumes -- Lovely, a celebrity scent for Sarah Jessica Parker created by a commercial house in New York, and Un Jardin Sur le Nil, created by luxury house Hermes' new in-house "nose," Jean-Claude Ellena.
I got the feeling that Burr spent so much time with the people in the Parker camp (especially Parker herself, about whom he's a bit starstruck) and with Ellena that he developed personal relationships with them and wanted to present them in the best light. This is understandable, but it also makes the book less interesting, because he's quite circumspect about how he discusses the process. The book is much better when it digresses from its supposed topics and Burr talks about natural vs. artificial scent materials, how trends affect perfumery, and the byzantine way the industry works. He is very, very funny when he holds forth on, for example, the evils of Hugo Boss' fragrances.
I can't say I wasn't interested in the creative process that went into the two perfumes, but I think that this would have been stronger and more entertaining as a book if Burr had just written a general treatise on perfumes and left his two case studies as long, stand-along magazine articles -- which they originally were. I wanted to hear more about how an ingredient that reeks of corpses or feces, added in tiny amounts, makes a perfume more beautiful, or about the meaningless distinction between masculing and feminine scents -- and less about how lavish Hermes press parties are.
Still, this is good fun to read, and I know a lot more about scents than I did going in.
The Perfect Scent takes you deep inside the perfume industry on both sides of the Atlantic, where we get to be voyeurs through the creation of two distinctive products - one for a celebrity in Manhattan, one the arcane art of a traditional french perfumer.
This is an excellent book that leads the reader into the strange world of an industry, tradition and set of skills that most of us would know nothing about. It makes no apology for getting into extreme detail, or for not dumbing-down the story for the novice. In fact it is this unrestrained embrace of all the fascinating details while following the personal stories of those involved which I suspect makes the book so successful in engaging all of us perfume noobs.
NB: the audiobook version is highly recommend, the narrator does a brilliant job of making the story very personal and the french accents are tr��s authentique (see http://www.bookjetty.com/books/140010... )
The story alternates between the development of two perfumes; Un Jardin sur le Nil, and Sarah Jessica Parker's Lovely. Un Jardin sur le Nil was developed for Hermès by their new in-house perfumer and his story contains information about the history of the modern perfume industry as well as information on the French aspects of perfumery. Sarah Jessica Parker's story was fascinating as she is one of the few celebrities to have proper creative input into the design of a scent featuring her name. Her story focuses on the very corporate American perfume industry. I don't read a lot of non-fiction but this insight into the very closed world of perfume creation kept my attention. The author explains scents in a number of interesting ways, and although he is very dismissive of a number of popular perfumes, it is an intriguing book.
YMMV on this one, depending on how much you know about the perfume industry. Since I knew zilch, this was a fascinating read and I couldn't get enough of it. From the super prestige scent-making at Hermes, to the more commercial celebrity scent-selling at Coty, it provided a really interesting, and contrasting, view of how the perfume industry works today. If you're interested in the subject, I'd definitely recommend it, despite Burr's tendency to translate French, etc. immediately after using it, and describing everyone's outfits and looks (which I appreciated, from a gossipy standpoint, but you might find distracting). I'm also reading Luca Turin & Tania Sanchez's A-Z Guide to Perfumes, and it was really amusing to compare Burr's opinions to Turin's.
Mr. Burr also wrote about Luca Turin - and having read Turin's "Secret of Scent" which I liked very much, I went in search of Mr. Burr's work. That and my Mom read it and recommended it and my interest was piqued when she told me it recounted the making of Hermes, Le Jardin Sur la Nil, which I wear. In fact, the book should be an interesting reflection on our house, as I own Le Jardin Sur la Nil and Kate owns both Sarah Jessica Parker's Lovely (profiled in this book) and her subsequent scent, Covet.
I actually only read about 75%of this book. I did find it interesting especially since I know nothing about perfume and knew even less about the perfume industry. Even so, or more likely because of that, I grew tired with it. If you happen to enjoy perfume I’d immediately recommend this book. C. Burr writes well and is obviously knowledgeable.
I'm not quite sure why I find his books so fascinating--is it the subject matter or his writing? Either way, I finished it in one day, and immediately went online and ordered a bunch of perfume samples so I could find out what he was talking about.
So why did I read a book about the perfume industry? I don't know...it's something I knew very little about so I figured I might learn a few things. And I surely did! Chandler Burr has written about scent for The NYTimes so I was familiar with him. He writes well and I thought I'd like his style. This book follows two very different creators and creations. Half of the book is about the French luxury brand Hermes and their trips to the Nile River to create a new scent that fell into their 2005 theme"rivers." The perfumer, Jean Claude Ellena is ultra sophisticated and well respected in his field. The other half of the book is about a celebrity-fragrance developed by Coty with actress Sarah Jessica Parker. Chandler Burr received permission (not usually granted to journalists) to follow both developments from beginning to end. While they were very different fragrances and very different processes they were also similar in some ways. The book had way more about chemistry than I needed but I found the scent development, marketing and packaging information interesting. I also enjoyed Burr's rundown of the top fragrances in the US and Europe. While Burr is generally reverential and kind to the PEOPLE in the industry (altho he seems to have a problem with fat-shaming) he can be BITING when it comes to describing fragrances. He claims the scents by Hugo Boss make you think of Agent Orange. One called "Elements" he says should be called EAU de Refrigerator Coil. Miss Dior smells like "the armpits of a woman who hasn't bathed in a week" Yatagan is the odor of "a European man removing his underwear in August." But, he admits, the perfume industry is full of "animalics" or scents that are strong animal smells and include fleshy, sweaty smells and the smell of feces. (!?) They are called dirty smells and appeal to many. Some are considered "elevated" smells. Rose Poivree, he says, is "the perfume Satan's wife would wear in hell. " And that's not a criticism. He calls it "an exquisite scent, a combination of rose and smokey fire." I'm sure my sense of smell is not acute enough to follow Burr's perceptions but I will never look at perfume the same way after reading this book.