Walk inside any library and if you stay long enough you will find a sanctuary that is comforting, quiet, and best of all accessible to anyone who enters. So I was excited to write a post celebrating National Library Week (April 8-14) and choose a favorite book or two that mentions perfume on its pages. I hadn’t been to the library in a while, well except for a philanthropic event, a few months back.

I stood and watched as people entered and exited the Special Collections at the New York City Library, and I was reminded of a time when I used to linger inside the library and ponder all it had to offer. Surrounded by bookshelves of hardcover books, opening to musty pages mixed with decayed ink; in almost every corner, an old wooden chair complete with long communal table always seemed to be available. Suspended in time one book would lead me to the next, and the next. As I reminisced, I felt compelled to write about these pieces of literature and their relationship to fragrance.

 

Jump to Miranda, a modern day protagonist in Jhumpa Lahiri’s short story, Sexy from the book Interpreter of Maladies. Miranda finds comfort and a lover in the maze of a department store beauty counter, which ultimately leads her to find her inner-strength once again. When we meet Miranda she is displaced in a new city, without friends, working a tedious job. Days later, the lonely Miranda finds solace in the blotters that remain in her coat pocket; they are still steeped and fragrant. Her longing for connection captured perhaps in the paper of the blotters. Perhaps as she inhales the strips of paper she imagines traveling to far and distant places with her lover. The blotter perfectly soaked in the shared fragrance, Voyage d’Hermès, Parfum, Hermès. Here the camphorous components of Cardamom and Juniper notes are highlighted and warmed by Rose and Amber notes adding depth to this near linear fragrance, and fortunately some staying power too.

 

 

In Chapter 28 of Charlotte Bronte’s Jane Eyre, Jane flees from her love and finds herself deep in the fragrant summertime moors, lost and penniless, poor thing forgot her bag in the coach and she is left alone and with nothing but a bit of bread and the clothes on her back. As night begins to fall, she somehow overcomes her fears and puts her trust in Mother Nature taking refuge as she nestles into the earth and places her head on a mossy stone for a pillow. I imagine her body curled like the letter C, as her delicate hands cover her face, and while she sleeps Eau Suave, Eau de Parfum, Parfum d’Empire surrounds her like a halo. This fragrance starts out mossy green and swiftly transforms into a gentle fruity chypre. At its center, Rose is surrounded by Raspberry, Peach, Vanilla, and Musk sweetening Jane’s heartache as she sleeps and dreams of her Mr. Rochester.  

 

 

 Back at the New York Public Library, I found my card and went directly to the clerk to ask him where I might find Walt Whitman’s, Leaves of Grass. I was directed to W 811, and as I walked past rows of familiar books, I remembered that Walt Whitman loved the library, especially the New York City library so I was happy to be channeling him at this very moment. I pulled Whitman's Song to Myself, written in 1855 and settled in a wooden chair. Whitman’s celebratory poem speaks to the relationship between self and nature, structure and chaos. As I read his words I felt closer and closer to the wonderment of being alive.

 “Houses and Rooms are full of perfumes…the shelves are crowded with perfumes. I breathe the fragrance myself, and know it and like it….I will go to the bank by the wood and become undisguised and naked, I am mad for it to be in contact with me.” Walt Whitman, excerpt from, Song of Myself

Most days my morning ritual goes by at lightning speed, but when I take the time and stand in front of the mirror with perfume bottle in hand; I anoint my neck, arms, body, and clothes I see myself clearly and realize, with the help of Walt Whitman, that perhaps perfume is a molecular reflection of ourselves and all we want to be. One fragrance that is big enough to stand beside this poem is, Rose Poivrée, Eau De Parfum, The Different Company. Black Pepper, Rose, and Civet combine to bring this spicy floral dark and animalic to life.

–Valerie Vitale of Soliflore Notes, Monthly Contributor