Scent of a Novel

SUSAN ELIA MACNEAL: So I was in Williamsburg, Brooklyn recently (yes, that alleged hotbed of hipster culture — don't judge!) and found my way into a small shop called CB: I Hate Perfume. (Now, CB, who is really award-winning olfactory genius Christopher Brosius — who doesn't really hate perfume as much as he hates mass-market, corporate-diven, celebrity-endorsed scents that all seem to smell alike.) Some of his fragrances include At the Beach 1966 (Coppertone 1967 blended with the scent of the North Atlantic, with notes of Wet Sand, Seashell, Driftwood, and just a hint of Boardwalk), Memory of Kindness (Tomato Vines, Fresh Earth, and Country Garden), and Where We Are There Is No Here (a blend of jasmines, inspired by the Cocteau film). He's also the "nose" behind actor Alan Cumming's frarances Cumming and Second (Alan) Cumming (with notes of "Sex, Scotch, Cigars and Scotland."

And — one that I immediately gravitated towards — In the Library.

Only for me it wasn't so much "in the library" as "in book-lovers' paradise." When I closed my eyes and sniffed, I felt transported to the library at Downton Abbey — those first editions, those leather bindings, maybe even a cup of steaming Darjeeling tea on a table.... Brosius describes "The Scent" of In The Library as:

 . . . a warm blend of English Novel*, Russian & Moroccan Leather Bindings, Worn Cloth and a hint of Wood Polish

*The main note in this scent was copied from one of my favorite novels originally published in 1927. I happened to find a signed first edition in pristine condition many years ago in London. I was more than a little excited because there were only ever a hundred of these in the first place. It had a marvelous warm woody slightly sweet smell and I set about immediately to bottle it.

And this is Brosius's "Story" of the inspiration of the creation of the scent:

I have always loved books. I am told this was the case even before I could read for myself. When I was very small, I loved the bedtime story and being read to by my mother. As a child, books provided a fantastic escape from boredom and a rather dreary daily life. As I grew older, I began to read voraciously and spent as much time as possible in the school library. I borrowed books with wild abandon and I read every one....

Whenever I read, the start of the journey is always opening the book and breathing deeply. There are few things more wonderful than the smell of a much-loved book. Newly printed books certainly smell very different from older ones. Their ink is so crisp though the odor of their paper is so faint. Older books smell riper and often sweeter. Illustrated books have a very different odor from those with straight text and this smell often speaks of their quality. I've also noticed that books from different countries and different periods have very individual scents too. These speak not only of their origin, but of their history to this moment. I can distinguish books that were well cared for from those that were neglected. I can often tell books that lived in libraries where pipes or cigars were regularly smoked. Occasionally I run across one that I am certain belonged to an older woman fond of powdery scent. Books from California smell very different from those I buy in New York, London or Paris. I can tell books that have come from humid places - these have a musty richness in the scent of their pages.

And then of course there are the scents of different bindings: the glues, the leathers, the cloths and boards, even the paperbacks all have very unique characteristics and, to my mind, add an extra dash of personality to an otherwise mundane object. And yes, sometimes if a book has had the misfortune of being very poorly kept, I can detect a faint whiff of mildew. This doesn't bother me in the least. It means this book has survived.

To many of course, these various bookish odors mean nothing. But to an avid reader and collector like myself, these smells are as magical as the bouquet of a great wine is to a connoisseur - a sort of literary terroir. These scents mean Excitement, Adventure, Discovery, Enlightenment and Knowledge. Of course my deep love of reading is exactly what lead me in the first place to begin capturing the scent of books and of the libraries where they live. That's what this perfume is all about.

Now, whenever I have the chance, I read aloud to my nieces and nephews. I am delighted they so enjoy this and are so eager to listen. I love sharing with them some of my own childhood favorites. There have been some very interesting discussions afterward about some of these...

But before I begin to read to the children, I always take a moment to open the book and encourage them to take a whiff. I hope for them, as it has been for me, this smell will mark the beginning of a long and wondrous journey.

SUSAN ELIA MACNEAL: Readers, I bought it.

But are there other fragrances with the scent of books? 

Lo and behold, I was intrigued to find out — yes. 

There's one from Christopher Brosius's former company, Demeter, called Paperback Writer (inspired by a Barbara Pym novel, "sweet and somewhat musty.")

There's also Paper Passion by Geza Schoen, Gerhard Steidl, and Wallpaper* magazine, with packaging by Karl Lagerfeld and Steidl. “The smell of a freshly printed book is the best smell in the world,” Karl Lagerfeld is quoted as saying.

And there's also Comme des Garcons 2, the scent of "Japanese ink drying on parchment in the summer sun," with notes of "Japanese Sumi ink, incense, patchouli, cedarwood, angelica root, vetiver, magnolia, amber, labdanum, new aldehydes, cumin, cade oil, absolute maté, abslolute folia." 

And so, Reds and gentle readers, do you love the scent of books? Would you be interested in wearing the scent of a book? Spraying it around your home? Spritzing your e-reader?



P.S. I don't know Christopher Brosius personally, this is not an ad in any way, just something that as a book lover (and sniffer) I find fascinating.... Yes, I paid full price for In the Library. Worth every scent, er, cent, too.