Hello, this is Elif Batuman guest-blogging from Istanbul!
Do you use a Kindle? Do people tell you things like, “Oh, you use a Kindle, but for me reading isn’t reading without the sound/ feel/ sight of a bound book”? Finally there is an answer for you, and for them! This answer comes from Karl Lagerfeld, who is developing a perfume that smells like books.
Paper Passion, which will be sold inside a hardcover book with the pages hollowed out to hold the flacon, will be developed with Berlin perfumer Geza Schön, who told the paper that “the fragrance will have a fatty note,” probably along the lines of linoleum, and that he was taking his inspiration from the smell of printed and unprinted paper.
I thought about ordering some to spray on my Kindle, except that actually I’ve noticed that it already kind of smells like linoleum.
Later, I learned about Paperback, by Demeter, which is supposed to evoke the scent of a “dusty old copy of a Barbara Pym novel.” I bet it is a man magnet!!
I remember that Vulcans (Star Trek) are supposed to smell of dust. I don’t know why I mention that. Most of my reading these days comes from the public library where the books smell mildly of malt vinegar.
Sarsons, pour livre.
Do you think that the vinegar smell is coming from the library or the grannies who previously read the book, Ian?
And will Paper Passion be unisex?
Ian, I thought only children sniffed the pages of books… Nevertheless, it’s true – books are the new fashion.
In 2009 CB released “In the Library”:
“In the Library is a warm blend of English Novel*, Russian & Moroccan Leather Bindings, Worn Cloth and a hint of Wood Polish.”
You can read more about the scent and “the story” here:
http://www.cbihateperfume.com/in-the-library.html
reminds me of the Ron Burgundy film quote “I’m very important. I have many leather-bound books, and my apartment smells of rich mahogany…”
A classic scene indeed, Worm.
Sing it, Sister.
I certainly hope that there’s a special circle of Hell reserved for those people who, seeing me reading my Kindle, make a special point of coming over and telling me how much they love books, as if it were a badge of distinction.
I love books, too.
Here are things I also love:
Owning a book within a minute of learning that it exists;
Having control over the type size (I’ve gone both up and down);
Being able to carry 20 or so books with me on vacation, or to the dentist’s office;
Being able to buy a new book where ever I am;
Not losing pages from badly binding.
In any event, in honor of our new alliance, I have downloaded your book to my Kindle.
I would never deny you your kindle and all its vaunted facilities. The problem, however, is that while you may be free to read the kindle (at least until it is replaced by some superior technology), it is appearing more and more likely that I shall soon be denied the pleasure of purchasing traditional books. Not to mention that of writing and publishing them, which happens to be my life. At which point, I shall take my library, some 5000 beloved volumes, and pile them outside or better still within the main office of one of the publishers who with the greed, arrogance and incompetence of the bean-counters who now control them, have betrayed the medium with which they have been entrusted. I shall then drench the pile with petrol, mount myself upon its peak and light a match.
And some busybody will wander over and observe how she much prefers charcoal when she’s immolating herself.