The Secret Ways of Perfume

by Cristina Caboni

  Sage: wisdom. Fresh, sweet aroma. The fragrance dispels doubt. Instills common sense, sharpens the senses and memory.

  Thyme: clarity. Energizing, invigorating. The fragrance dispels confusion and opens the mind to logic. Deciphers the uncertainty of dreams. Restores mental stability.

  Tonka, fava: generosity. A warm, sweet perfume with the happiness of a ray of sunshine. The fragrance soothes even the most troubled soul. Encourages softness and sharing.

  Vanilla: protection. The warm, sweet perfume of childhood. The fragrance gives comfort, boosts mood and relieves tension. Goes well with leather. A few drops combine to direct affairs of the heart.

  Wood, Resin and Leaf Perfumes

  Benzoin: composure. A dark resin with a thick and intense balsamic essence. The fragrance relieves anxiety and stress. It enables spiritual energy to grow in strength and is the ideal preparation for meditation.

  Birch: well-being. Intense, aromatic perfume. The fragrance is enveloping and therapeutic. Frees the mind from the burden of pain, releases the spirit, aids physical and mental recovery.

  Camphor: decisiveness. Strong and deeply balsamic. The fragrance of courage and determination. Strengthens the will.

  Cedar: reflection. Extracted from the wood, this is one of the oldest known essences. The fragrance strengthens and guards the spirit. Helps maintain clarity, balance, and a sense of proportion. Encourages profound observation.

  Cypress: support. Pleasant, mild, aromatic. The fragrance of its wood refreshes, relaxes and chases away worries. Helps with any form of change, strengthens the soul and prepares us to face even the most arduous trials.

  Elemi: awareness. Pungent and aromatic. The fragrance rebalances, instills peace. Brings to light our deepest fears. Dispels delusions and restores reality.

  Eucalyptus: positivity. A purifying, intense plant fragrance. Dispels negativity. Stimulates deep breathing, restores reason.

  Galbanum: harmony. An intensely spicy, plant fragrance; the scent of nature and the forest. Calms anger.

  Incense: reflection. A unique, fresh and sweetly camphorous scent. The fragrance slows breathing, inducing a calm and serene state and invoking deep spirituality. Prepares us for meditation and prayer.

  Myrrh: security. More earthy and “concrete” than incense. The fragrance is strong, balanced and unambiguous. Represents the link between spirit and reality.

  Myrtle: forgiveness. Beautiful, magical, evergreen. Intense and deeply aromatic. The fragrance of serenity, the very essence of the soul. Soothes the spirit, relieves anger and resentment.

  Oak moss: lightness of heart. Intense, penetrating, ancestral. The fragrance of perseverance and strength. Drives away thoughts of our own mistakes. Lessens nostalgia for what might have been.

  Opoponax or sweet myrrh: optimism. Delicate, balsamic, intensely floral. This is the fragrance of serenity.

  Patchouli: mystery. Sensual and exotic. The heady fragrance of life. Encourages decisiveness.

  Petit-grain: concentration. Extracted from precious orange leaves, this fragrance awakens the spirit. Clears the mind; helps to make important decisions.

  Pine: determination. Solid and tenacious, this tree of fortitude does not bend or break. Its fragrance is balsamic, aromatic. Instills courage, boosts self-confidence.

  Rosewood: movement. Sweet and fruity with a hint of spice, obtained from tropical trees. The fragrance of trust and serenity. Evokes the sweet pain of longing and hope.

  Sandalwood: temptation. Powerful, mysterious and fascinating. The fragrance of Eros. Extremely complex: sharpens the senses, opens the heart and restores feelings.

  Vetiver: resistance. Fresh, moist, green. This is the heavy, complex fragrance of the earth. Tenacious, invincible, it gives strength, encourages openness toward others, and self-forgiveness.

  Perfumes of Animal Origin

  Ambergris: beauty. The oldest of perfumes, sweet and seductive, adored by women. The fragrance is transported by the sea and deposited on beaches like a precious gift, after which it still retains its profound, mysterious charm. Evokes the awakening of femininity, elegance . . . and the heat of a summer’s night.

  Beeswax: elegance. Warm and delicate. The fragrance of wax harnesses the power of nature, flowers and pollen.

  Leather: strength. Animal, intense, full of character. The fragrance of primordial energy and masculine strength.

  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  I’ve always loved perfumes, but at a certain point in my life they took on a much greater significance for me. When your livelihood depends on flowers that bloom and provide nectar for the bees you keep, your perception of nature changes. Flowers, and their perfume, herald both the days and the months, as well as dividing them according to the different harvests. It was when I started to truly notice the smells of the world around me that the idea of a novel was born.

  But talking about perfume isn’t easy. Smells and scents are very difficult to portray on the page—if it’s even possible at all. But it has been done superbly by two young Italian perfumers, Marika Vecchiattini and Caterina Roncati, fragrance designers at Farmacia del Castello in Genova. In their Profumificio they both create customized perfumes, perfumes of the soul.

  One day, having spoken to them about my book, they sent me three of their creations: a perfume for Beatrice, one for Aurore and a wonderful perfume for Elena. I was amazed. Not only had they been kind and patient enough to answer my questions, throwing open the doors to a world I’d just discovered, but from my descriptions alone they had created perfumes for my characters. Anyone who wants to smell the three fragrances can do so at the Profumificio del Castello.

  Marika also wrote the essay “The Secret Language of Perfume,” which was invaluable to me when I was writing the novel, as was her blog Bergamotto e Benzoino: one long journey of the senses full of magical, professional tips. And this is how I discovered a different kind of perfume industry to the glamourous one we know so well: artisan, niche perfumery. I have Marika and Caterina to thank for all of this.

  Finally, I would like to say that, even though it uses real settings, The Secret Ways of Perfume is a work of fiction and uses the poetic license of storytelling. Measurements in grams, with precision scales, have long replaced drops. Beatrice Rossini and her descendants, Caillen McLean and his magnificent roses, Absolue, Narcissus and La Fougérie are all fruits of my imagination, as is the famous work by Giulia Rossini. So, if you were to look for Enchanted Garden in the Osmothèque in Paris, alas you wouldn’t find it, because it exists only in this novel.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Thank you to my family for supporting me, accepting me and loving me for who I am. Thank you to my husband for keeping my life and our children’s lives going while I write, and especially for making sure that I eat properly.

  Thank you to Silvia Zucca for being my friend, for lending me her perfume books and for telling me about Marika Vecchiattini and introducing us. Thank you to Anna for always being there, Andreina for cheering me up, Lory for being so sweet and Eleonora for making me laugh. Thank you to Antonella for keeping me going when I lost faith and for celebrating every victory with me. A huge thank-you to Garzanti for choosing me, to the staff who looked after my novel, to my editor Elisabetta Migliavada for whom there are simply not enough words. And finally, thank you to the agency that represents me. To Laura Ceccacci, who believed in me from the beginning, who is so much more than a friend and to whom I am profoundly grateful. To Anna Chiatto, who welcomed me with a beautiful smile, and to Kylee Doust, who opened the doors to a new world.

  Thank you.

  A CONVERSATION WITH CRISTINA CABONI

  Where did you find the inspiration to write The Secret Ways of Perfume?

  From my own experience. I live in the countryside, surrounded by all kinds of plants and flowers—and I’m a beekeeper, which is more than a job for me; it’s a lifestyle. My world is full
of perfumes. Keeping bees means you live very closely with nature. Their well-being is essential, so I learned to watch them, study their work, adapt to their habits. When flowers mature and start to secrete the nectar the bees feed on, the air is filled with perfumes. That’s when harvesting starts. Over time, I’ve learned to recognize the different nuances of how flowers communicate with the bees. While this knowledge came gradually, it has ended up being quite extensive. I started to pay attention, to smell everything, and I understood that perfume is a language, a subtle and immediate means of communication. It wasn’t a discovery, though—you can’t discover something that has always existed. I just saw what was already there, available, before my eyes. I had a sense of loss for the things I hadn’t known, and I was so fascinated by this world—that I’d unwittingly neglected for so long—that I felt I had to share it with everyone. But how could I tell such a complicated story? Only a perfumier could do it. A woman capable of great feelings, delicate sensitivity. The descendant of an ancient family that passed down their knowledge from mother to daughter. I was sure she would know how to describe this world of perfumes and smells, carefully weighing words and concepts, communicating emotions. That was when I saw a little girl, and her grandmother. They were the right people; they would be able to convey the importance of perfume.

  Perfume is the way, it tells a story and it is a language to communicate our emotions: this is what Elena’s grandmother tells her. Does perfume have these powers for you, too?

  I’m certain it does. Smells are primal: they warn us; they fascinate us; some of them disgust us. Perfumes reach deep inside us and crystallize our emotions. Some of them bring back moments from our past, evoking the feelings we had. Just one smell, the perfume in the air on a particular day, and our memory springs into action. Perfumes cheer us up, so a couple of drops of our favorite perfume can turn a dull day into something special. They can also be comforting, like the smell of bread or biscuits fresh from the oven, vanilla or laundry detergent.

  How did you discover the meaning of perfumes?

  When the idea for the novel was taking shape, I began to take an interest in artisan perfumery, in fragrances for people who want a unique perfume. It was a very intriguing concept, that of an individual essence, made to measure like a suit. And I wondered why I adored certain smells, felt indifferent toward others, and some I just couldn’t stand. So I started to research as much as I could to do with perfume, and I discovered that each smell has its own message, and each perfume elicits a reaction from the person who smells it or wears it. For example, some fragrances are therapeutic—they help us through difficult situations—some make us feel more secure; others might be the touch that livens up an important date or makes a special night unforgettable.

  The book contains several formulas for creating perfumes, from the ancient to the modern. Where does this passion come from?

  It comes from the pleasure I take in smelling them and from my endless curiosity for perfumes. I wanted to know about every mechanism, every step required in the creation of a perfume. And discovering that the process hasn’t really changed over the centuries was illuminating. Of course, the essences are different now to the ones used in the past, and everything is properly regulated, but the process itself isn’t so very different from what the original master perfumiers were doing. What is different today is the concept, the idea or, as they call it, the brief. Now perfume tells a story: it starts with the top notes, the first ones you smell, then the middle, and finally the real weight of the perfume, the base notes.

  Elena has a special talent for understanding people and trying to help them using perfume. But at one point in her life she rejects it because it’s linked to memories that are too painful for her. Do you think your past and your own experiences can make you forget who you really are?

  A deep disappointment, especially when you’re very young like Elena, can trigger a sort of resistance to the thing that caused the pain. We often turn to something else, something we can rationally approve. I think we lose ourselves a lot, but I don’t believe it’s a real rejection, rather the search for an acceptable alternative. But taking a path that isn’t really yours only works up to a point. Deceiving yourself won’t make you happy. We are heart and soul and roots; it’s not enough to be rational. We live in a society that focuses on appearance at the expense of substance, and our standards distance us from our own individuality, which is actually our greatest asset. The most wonderful thing that can happen to a person is for them to be themselves. Finding yourself, knowing yourself and accepting yourself is a good start to being happy.

  When she was still very young, Elena had to learn that even a mother can make the wrong choices. And only when she is about to have a child herself does she come to understand her own mother and perhaps to forgive her—because being a mother is the most difficult job in the world. You have three children. Do you think that’s true?

  I think that’s a universal concept. It’s easy for us all to be harsh judges, but when we have to deal with a new role, when we stop watching and start doing, everything changes. Being a mother is complicated. So being a good mother is very difficult. You have to think of everything, be there all the time—and often that’s impossible. I think a lot of generational rifts have been bridged and healed by that change of role from daughter to mother. This happens to Elena, who finally begins to understand her own mother when she faces difficulties she could never have imagined before. At a certain point in her life, Elena finds herself going through a difficult pregnancy, alone, exactly like Susanna—what could be more enlightening?

  The first time Elena meets Cail, she can tell that he’s a sensitive man with a troubled heart from his perfume only, which smells like roses and rain. Perhaps she also recognizes some of her own suffering in him. Two lonely souls who meet and discover new ways of making peace with themselves so that they can open up to each other . . . Is that what love means to you?

  The thing that first unites Elena and Cail is instinct, something magical and illogical. They both feel the need to look at each other, to be close to each other, to find moments of happiness. It’s not something you can explain; it’s entirely irrational: a meeting of kindred spirits, a mutual affection and desire. That mystery is what love means to me. Love has the power to change anything—it is essentially the most powerful driving force that exists. Love makes us consider things that were inconceivable before. And a change of perspective can help us to understand others and accept ourselves.

  Another of the novel’s protagonists is Paris. La Ville Lumière, with its characteristic winding streets, its stunning monuments, its magical atmosphere. When did you fall in love with this city?

  I visited France years ago. The whole country made an unforgettable impression on me: the dazzlingly bright sky, the perfume, the friendly, smiling people, the magnificent castles, the countryside lined with long rows of flowers. And Paris is the symbol of France. A city full of charm, history, art and genius. It’s synonymous with wonder and romance . . . and perfume. Everything about it inspired me: the places; the sophisticated, musical cadence of the accent; the way a cosmopolitan city takes life with a smile. I couldn’t have chosen any other setting for my novel.

  There is a lot of nature in the book: blooming lavender fields, gardens full of roses, even the markets brimming with flowers and plants. How important is nature and the outdoors to you?

  “Important” might not be the right word. For me the outdoors is fundamental. It couldn’t be any other way, given that my work takes me into the countryside, looking for flowers for my bees. But I think nature has always been part of me. I grew up in the countryside, and my grandparents there played an important role in my upbringing. They taught me to watch and listen. Then there’s my other great passion that brings me close to nature: roses. I love them! And I share that beautifully scented joy with my mother. We have so many, from the biggest, most captivating blooms to the sim
plest, most delicate buds. We have historic, ancient and modern roses. Smelling the perfume of English roses, for example, is an unforgettable experience.

  What’s your favorite perfume?

  My house is surrounded by citrus gardens, and in May everything turns the bright green of new leaves and the white of the flowers. In those few weeks, the air is full of perfume. It’s fruity, intense and heady, or dare I say hypnotic: the perfume of orange blossom, my favorite perfume. It reminds me of my childhood, the desserts the women in my family used to make when I was little, playing games and running under the trees. Whenever I smell it, I’m enchanted and I feel good, I feel happy.

  Are you working on a new novel yet?

  Yes, it’s a novel about deep emotions, the story of a family, a secret and a passion that helps the protagonist see her life in a new way. Women are always a great source of inspiration for me: they never give up, and despite their difficulties, they always manage to face life with a smile.

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