Perfume: Story of a Murderer, and More...

What's in a smell? A rose by any other smell would not be named as sweet...

It isn't very often that I can't sleep because of a book, but I have to say, honestly, that Perfume has officially done something that Harry Potter couldn't. The first thing that struck me was the power of Suskind's imagination to come up with such a concept. I mean, smell? One of the most basal, animalistic senses? One that we've often been taught to disregard? Fascinating...

The central character of Perfume, Jean-Baptiste Grenouille, has an exceptional sense of smell. It's so exceptional that he uses his nose to identify individual people, and he has a particular interest in beautiful, virginal young girls. And you guessed it; he kills the girls he fancies. That's partly why I couldn't sleep last night – as much as I tried to convince myself that I only satisfy 75% of Grenouille's requirements (and therefore am at no risk at being murdered in my sleep), I was disturbed as to what kind of sensory messages I'm sending out to people.

During high school I was fairly mystified by the way some of my girlfriends could walk into a party and turn every male's head towards them. I had my theories – their impeccable dress sense, their body proportions (y'know, the “golden ratio” business), the grapevine (which promoted them as hot stuff, since Facebook wasn't around in those days)...but perhaps all of them were wrong? Perhaps they had particularly strong, enticing pheromones that the prehistoric creature lurking in every boy had learned to recognise. After all, real medical studies have shown that pheromones play a role in attraction for animals ranging from rats to humans (One of my lecturers is actually doing some research on pheromones at the moment!).

I've had a long-term suspicion that I send out “bugger off, I'm queer” pheromones, since it's been well-established that romance and I go together like onions and chocolate sauce. Now I wonder how much of my personality people can detect “subconsciously” on a first impression. Whether I reek of reluctance to commit to animate objects, or intense competitiveness/neuroticism/hyperactivity, or my support of some very radical minority groups...

Perhaps I can decompose it down to rational terms. Perhaps people who are very interested in a relationship will take pride in and put effort into their appearance, since they're the people whom perfumes like “Baby Doll” and “Delicious” and “Lovely” and “Darling” are marketed at. Perhaps neurotic people like me break out in nervous sweats much more than calm, collected people. Perhaps, you give off a slightly different odour depending on whether you're a normal omnivore, or a pescetarian (like me!), or an ovo-lacto vegetarian (like I used to be), or a vegan.

Just something to think about next time you're at a party and you're suddenly attracted to somebody for no reason.

Of course, just before I wrap up, I'll plug the novel a bit more. The language is exquisite – you can almost experience the myriad of odours along with Grenouille just thanks to the way Suskind constructs his prose. The religious allusions are confronting, but still captivating, even haunting. I'm not very good with my pre-revolutionary French history, but seriously, the novel's setting is gorgeous. And what I found surprising was how fast a read it was – since I've started med school I've sat on novels for at least a week (and this makes me very sad, as I long for the days when I devoured 20-odd books over a 2-month period) - and I just raced through Perfume in about...what, six hours in total? And yet I savoured it – I enjoyed all the descriptions of perfume-making (like the cold-pressing of jasmine blossoms) and the extensive travels of the main character throughout France, and the sensuality and physicality and immediacy of...well, everything.

If you guys read nothing else of this entry, then read this. Go and read Perfume! You won't regret it.

single and fabulous

Should the magazine cover read "Single and Fabulous?", or "Single and FABULOUS!"?

(If you get the Sex and the City reference, you rule.)
God, I want to go to NYC one day...

Anyway, this topic recently came to my attention because over the past few weeks, I have been surrounded by people having relationship problems. Half a dozen of my good friends have broken up with their significant others, and if I have to listen to another single person whinge about how they are sick of singledom, I will throw my double-pointed knitting needles at them. And so when someone bemoaned the fact they had "never been kissed" on a forum which I occasionally visit (occasionally because most of the denziens are younger than me) I felt compelled to answer thus:

"Excuse me, but I'd like to add my two cents, since I'm nineteen and a half, and I have never been kissed. Although there are moments where curiosity gets the better of me, most of the time I'm reasonably comfortable with my status.

Kissing doesn't mean ANYTHING unless it's in context. If you're not sharing a kiss with someone you have feelings for, it's no more meaningful than snogging a pillow.

I had a brief encounter with a guy in high school (he asked me to his prom) but there was absolutely no chemistry between us, and I'm extremely relieved that we never kissed. It would have spoilt a lot for us both.

In short: there is NOTHING wrong with you. You just haven't met the right person yet - and only time can "fix" that.

And if it helps, I've been told by a lot of my friends who are in relationships that kissing is extremely overrated. People don't see stars, time doesn't stop, and you can get EBV.*"

*EBV = Epstein-Barr Virus, otherwise known as Glandular Fever or Infectious Mononucleosis or just "Mono" or "The Kissing Disease". It's nasty.

Shortly after, on another set of forums, the same ridiculous topic came to my attention. And guess what I said to this girl? I was slightly more eloquent because I planned what I was going to say this time.

"At the end of this year, I will be 20. I have never had a steady significant other, unless you count the boy who asked me to his prom as a "boyfriend". I certainly don't - going to his prom was a mistake because there was no chemistry whatsoever between us. I would be lying if I said my singledom doesn't bother me sometimes (usually it's in conjunction with my parents being snotty and not allowing me to go out at night without a male chaperone, or with my girl mates celebrating their anniversaries) but on the whole I'm quite happy with it.

To put it simply - single people have problems, but "taken" people have problems too - simply having a partner will not make your life perfect.

Whether your life will benefit from a relationship or not completely depends on an individual's circumstances. For example, I'm probably better off alone at the moment because I value my freedom very highly, I have a ridiculously busy life and barely enough time for my friends as it is, AND I have no idea what I want in a prospective partner (especially when it comes to sex).

But I also recognise that my life is always changing, and one day, the pros will outweigh the cons, and I'll be ready. Perhaps this day will come in a week, perhaps it'll be in a month, perhaps it'll be in a year, perhaps it'll take a decade, or perhaps it'll never come at all because I'll be so satisfied with my life that I won't need that type of connection with someone (priests, nuns and monks live like this, and many of them are very happy people). I'm not going to waste time on stressing about when it'll happen."

Since I really like the number three, here's a conversation between my mother and me for completeness. And because it made me laugh.

Mum: Can you just learn to be more ladylike for once? I don't know if it's because of excitability or hearing loss that you're always so loud, but you're putting the boys off!
Me: Really, now?!! (right now I'm thinking - it's not my addictions, my gullibility, my immaturity, my frigidity, my flat-chestedness, my feminist beliefs, IT'S MY VOLUME. GREAT.)
Mum: Yes! You need to tone down a bit - to stop being - to put it bluntly - a LESBIAN MAGNET!

Er, mum...? What's so wrong with being a lesbian magnet? Especially if you're the type who would very possibly not mind dating a lesbian? And anyway, mum, you sound like a broken record.

Well...here I was, labouring under the illusion that you shouldn't go chasing people, boys or girls, that you ought to wait for the right person to come along, who'll not only tolerate your flaws but love you all the more for them...

Perhaps I'm too idealistic, but this is why I don't buy into the teenage dating game anymore. It is a game. You need strategy, luck and to abide by the rules (it also helps if you're attractive enough to distract your opponent). It's emotionally exhausting. Physically too, if you're unfortunate enough - like one of my male friends who was keen on a girl, and asked her out. The subsequent rejection caused his systolic blood pressure to skyrocket to 160 (normal is 120) and his resting heart rate to shoot up to 105bpm (normal is 70bpm). To add insult to this injury, he now only gets 2-3 hours of sleep a night because he's feeling "utterly ripped up inside".

Ouch.

All because it's a huge blow to your self-esteem.

That's gotta hurt.

I'm not entirely sure what love is, but I'm pretty sure that doesn't come remotely close. I'm sorry, but to me, true love, romantic or platonic, will always have the "unconditional" quality to it. I may only be nineteen, but one of the first lessons I learnt as an adult was that if you truly care for someone and their happiness, you'll let them go.

That, and to me, what separates "love" from "infatuation" is that when you're crushing after someone, you're obsessing over their virtues, their talents, all the GOOD things about them. When you love someone, you look at all their imperfections and you adore that they're kind of scrawny, that their hair is all bushy, that they fall asleep on your shoulder and drool all over your sleeve...

Heck, it doesn't even have to be love for a girl/boyfriend. It's like with knitting. I love the scarf I knitted in ninth grade, in spite of the inconsistent tension, the miscounted stitches, the horrible garter stitch...I love it BECAUSE it's so misshapen and nobody else will wear it but me. (What can I say, we were made for each other. Sorry about the knitting analogies - but it is winter in my part of the world.)

Remember: somewhere, there is someone out there who will fit your jagged edges like a matching piece of a jigsaw puzzle.

By all means, if you want to change something about yourself, go ahead. But it should be you who wants the change, not some good-for-nothing dick who wants a trophy wife.

Being single is not an indication that something is wrong with you, be it your chewed-up nails or your too-high standards. I have said this before in this rant. It's JUST THE TIMING that's wrong. Do I make myself clear?

Maybe you'll tell me I'm being bitter because I'm old, single and ugly and trying to convince myself that my life is worth something. Maybe you'll tell me I'm not qualified to comment on relationship topics. But maybe, just maybe, my little incoherent rant will make you see that "fabulously single" is not an oxymoron. I really hope you do, especially if you're one of my friends, because it'll save me from sitting up until 1am cuddling you, feeding you tissues and saying exactly the same thing - that you are fabulous, just the way you are.

P.S. I can't believe I've had this website for years and haven't written something like this yet, given that I watch Sex and the City not to perve on the men, not to swoon over the fashion, but to listen to an awesome journalist give her candid take on life.