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The Emperor of Scent: A True Story of Perfume and Obsession
The Emperor of Scent tells of the scientific maverick Luca Turin, a connoisseur and something of an aesthete who wrote a bestselling perfume guide and bandied about an outrageous new theory on the human sense of smell. Drawing on cutting-edge work in biology, chemistry, and physics, Turin used his obsession with perfume and his eerie gift for smell to turn the cloistered worlds of the smell business and science upside down, leading to a solution to the last great mystery of the senses: how the nose works.
352 pages, Paperback
Published February 10, 2004
About the author
Chandler Burr
6 books49 followersChandler Burr is the New York Times scent critic and author of The Perfect Scent, The Emperor of Scent, and A Separate Creation. He has written for The Atlantic and The New Yorker. He lives in New York City.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 258 reviews
October 22, 2022
An intriguing dissection of an olfactory theory, the controversy surrounding it and the scientist behind it, Luca Turin. I enjoyed the writing generally, but all I can say is that the book is a lot. The scientist is a lot, the science is a lot, even the author can be a lot at times. It all combined into a reading experience that was overwhelming in the "god, all the perfume in here is giving me a headache" kind of way.
Click here to hear more of my thoughts on this book over on my Booktube channel, abookolive.
Click here to hear more of my thoughts on this book over on my Booktube channel, abookolive.
Shelved as '1-tbr-owned-but-not-yet-read'
August 27, 2020I bought a new scent back in mid-February, then I got coronavirus and although my sense of smell has come back, somewhat, I still can't smell in it what I liked so much back then. I love perfumes, but am very conservative about them, I hardly ever try a new one, I stick to the ones I love and that people love on me and ask me what I'm wearing. Chanel Allure and Comptoir sud Pacifique's Vetyver Haiti are my two favourites and luckily I can still smell them. Or perhaps I have the memory of them.
I miss my sense of smell somewhat, but in some ways it's a relief. I always had a very sensitive nose and could smell fruit or milk that would turn in a day or two, I could tell who my son had given a ride to by the smell they left behind, couldn't be near mushrooms cooking as the smell, like roasting coffee made me ill (I like eating mushrooms and drinking coffee though). But all that's gone. Bad with the good. There re always more things rotting than blooming, so, kind of a relief I only have half of a sense of smell compared to before covid-19.
I miss my sense of smell somewhat, but in some ways it's a relief. I always had a very sensitive nose and could smell fruit or milk that would turn in a day or two, I could tell who my son had given a ride to by the smell they left behind, couldn't be near mushrooms cooking as the smell, like roasting coffee made me ill (I like eating mushrooms and drinking coffee though). But all that's gone. Bad with the good. There re always more things rotting than blooming, so, kind of a relief I only have half of a sense of smell compared to before covid-19.
February 12, 2008
Ever since I heard that the NYT had its own perfume critic, I've had a kind of love-hate relationship with Chandler:
"In Dior Homme, its perfumer, Olivier Polge, has used a light, assured, masterly touch to turn out an iris that has the grace of a Japanese maple and the careful, muscular cool of a leopard.
Béthouart has worked magic here, taking Versace’s genetics — its petulant Italian machismo — and adding technical virtuosity (the stuff diffuses perfectly on the skin) to create the scent you’d get if it were possible to combine sugar, steel and graphite. The Dreamer startles you. It’s strangely mouthwatering, like a French pastry crossed with a Thai spice (caramel lemongrass?). Then there’s the hint of ice cream, gunpowder, star fruit, hot cocoa and blood-orange peel crushed on wet rock.
in the hands of Slatkin’s talented young perfumer Christophe Laudamiel, Absinthe is a blunt instrument: you smell the 1800’s Parisian bar, the fermented wormwood, the rich scarlet velvet curtains, and then you get the slam in the back of the throat as the poison goes down. Slatkin is smart enough not to genderize its scents, but men will wear Absinthe for its heightened reality."
What do the three text snippets above represent? The winning entries from some mad logophiles' parlor game? Random text from one of those post-modern essay generators? Coded messages from the Paterson, New Jersey terror cell?
Why, no. The gray lady herself, the nation's newspaper of record, The New York Times, now has its own resident perfume critic. The maiden 'nose' (so to speak) is an individual named "Chandler Burr". The text at the beginning of this post are examples of Chandler's writing style.
As a grateful subscriber, all I can say is that this is the most poop-in-your pants exciting news in years. And the poop of which I speak would have an almost tropical bouquet, redolent of the chickenshit and antibiotic slurry in your local poultry plant, mingled with the fresh diarrhea of a hormone-packed cow just entering the slaughterhouse, with brusque overtones of that old-people smell in the elder-abusing nursing home where you've stashed Grammy, almost as if you'd managed to crush a baby kitten's brain in a Krups blender. And blood-oranges. And the muscular androgynous calm of Jeffrey on Project Runway as he prances, hyena-like, through the studios and canyons of Manhattan.
"In Dior Homme, its perfumer, Olivier Polge, has used a light, assured, masterly touch to turn out an iris that has the grace of a Japanese maple and the careful, muscular cool of a leopard.
Béthouart has worked magic here, taking Versace’s genetics — its petulant Italian machismo — and adding technical virtuosity (the stuff diffuses perfectly on the skin) to create the scent you’d get if it were possible to combine sugar, steel and graphite. The Dreamer startles you. It’s strangely mouthwatering, like a French pastry crossed with a Thai spice (caramel lemongrass?). Then there’s the hint of ice cream, gunpowder, star fruit, hot cocoa and blood-orange peel crushed on wet rock.
in the hands of Slatkin’s talented young perfumer Christophe Laudamiel, Absinthe is a blunt instrument: you smell the 1800’s Parisian bar, the fermented wormwood, the rich scarlet velvet curtains, and then you get the slam in the back of the throat as the poison goes down. Slatkin is smart enough not to genderize its scents, but men will wear Absinthe for its heightened reality."
What do the three text snippets above represent? The winning entries from some mad logophiles' parlor game? Random text from one of those post-modern essay generators? Coded messages from the Paterson, New Jersey terror cell?
Why, no. The gray lady herself, the nation's newspaper of record, The New York Times, now has its own resident perfume critic. The maiden 'nose' (so to speak) is an individual named "Chandler Burr". The text at the beginning of this post are examples of Chandler's writing style.
As a grateful subscriber, all I can say is that this is the most poop-in-your pants exciting news in years. And the poop of which I speak would have an almost tropical bouquet, redolent of the chickenshit and antibiotic slurry in your local poultry plant, mingled with the fresh diarrhea of a hormone-packed cow just entering the slaughterhouse, with brusque overtones of that old-people smell in the elder-abusing nursing home where you've stashed Grammy, almost as if you'd managed to crush a baby kitten's brain in a Krups blender. And blood-oranges. And the muscular androgynous calm of Jeffrey on Project Runway as he prances, hyena-like, through the studios and canyons of Manhattan.
August 23, 2007
Here we sit at the dawn of the 21st century. Science has figured out the basics and is now just working on the details, right? Would it surprise you to learn that, in this day and age, we have no idea how smell works? The accepted theory is that smell works when receptors in the nose recognize the shape of a molecule. However, even dedicated Shapists recognize that this doesn’t happen all the time. The Emperor of Scent is the story of Luca Turin, a biologist who has proposed a radical new theory for how smell works. Turin believes that receptors in the nose recognize vibrations, just like the eyes and ears do. Turin’s Vibrational theory neatly sidesteps all of the problems associated with the Shape theory. If true, Turin’s theory would revolutionize the perfume industry. The Emperor of Scent is also the story of how the scientific community has reacted to Turin’s theory, and it’s a fascinating tale of luck, greed, and arrogance.
The first ¾ of the book is fascinating, because if Turin had not had such varied interests, he never would have gathered all of the little tidbits of information that allowed him to make his theoretical leap. If he had never been fascinated by perfume as a child, he would not have caught the attention of the secretive perfume industry which allowed him access to their laboratories. If he was able to stay focused on whatever project was at hand, he wouldn’t have started reading a journal that was outside of his professional purview and would have missed the article about how electron tunneling works. If he were easily cowed, he would have given up on his theory when all of the experts in his field denounced it repeatedly. The book would be compelling reading if it stopped here, but it doesn’t.
At this point in the book, the author weighs in with a chapter. Burr understands that books like this are supposed to be more balanced, presenting opposing viewpoints to give the audience some perspective on his subject. He explains that he would happily do so if those holding the opposing viewpoints would bother to reply to phone calls or email. Even more interestingly, those who do reply dismiss Turin’s theory out of hand. When pressed about specific points in the paper, they admit they haven’t read it, and seem offended that Burr expects them to. We tend to think of scientists as being above this sort of petty and juvenile behavior, but Burr pulls back the curtain and gives us a glimpse of the Wizard in his true form, and you can’t look away.
The last section of the book details Turin’s appearance at a conference where he presents his theory to some of the giants in his field. The reception is polite, but not spectacular. Some of the top scientists in the field do question Turin, and he responds to their points with a charming mixture of exuberance and exasperation. This is where the imbalance of the book is most glaring. Those who don’t accept the theory, it is implied, are either unwilling or unable to see the truth. It’s all very convincing, but perhaps a bit too convincing. You end up wishing that Turin would run up against someone as smart and stubborn as he is so you could see a real debate on the merits of Turin’s theory.
Is Turin’s theory legitimate? Has he cracked the riddle of how smell? Is his science up to snuff? I don’t know. I’m a bookseller, not a scientist. But Burr does an excellent job of making the science behind Turin’s theory make sense to someone with no scientific background while still maintaining the flow of the story. From the information we’re given, it certainly seems like Turin is onto something. Would the book have benefited from more balance? Certainly. Should Burr have given up on the book when Turin’s detractors refused to cooperate? Certainly not; it’s too much fun to be missed. The Emperor of Scent is a book much like its protagonist: sharp, smart, unconventional, pugnacious, and entertaining.
The first ¾ of the book is fascinating, because if Turin had not had such varied interests, he never would have gathered all of the little tidbits of information that allowed him to make his theoretical leap. If he had never been fascinated by perfume as a child, he would not have caught the attention of the secretive perfume industry which allowed him access to their laboratories. If he was able to stay focused on whatever project was at hand, he wouldn’t have started reading a journal that was outside of his professional purview and would have missed the article about how electron tunneling works. If he were easily cowed, he would have given up on his theory when all of the experts in his field denounced it repeatedly. The book would be compelling reading if it stopped here, but it doesn’t.
At this point in the book, the author weighs in with a chapter. Burr understands that books like this are supposed to be more balanced, presenting opposing viewpoints to give the audience some perspective on his subject. He explains that he would happily do so if those holding the opposing viewpoints would bother to reply to phone calls or email. Even more interestingly, those who do reply dismiss Turin’s theory out of hand. When pressed about specific points in the paper, they admit they haven’t read it, and seem offended that Burr expects them to. We tend to think of scientists as being above this sort of petty and juvenile behavior, but Burr pulls back the curtain and gives us a glimpse of the Wizard in his true form, and you can’t look away.
The last section of the book details Turin’s appearance at a conference where he presents his theory to some of the giants in his field. The reception is polite, but not spectacular. Some of the top scientists in the field do question Turin, and he responds to their points with a charming mixture of exuberance and exasperation. This is where the imbalance of the book is most glaring. Those who don’t accept the theory, it is implied, are either unwilling or unable to see the truth. It’s all very convincing, but perhaps a bit too convincing. You end up wishing that Turin would run up against someone as smart and stubborn as he is so you could see a real debate on the merits of Turin’s theory.
Is Turin’s theory legitimate? Has he cracked the riddle of how smell? Is his science up to snuff? I don’t know. I’m a bookseller, not a scientist. But Burr does an excellent job of making the science behind Turin’s theory make sense to someone with no scientific background while still maintaining the flow of the story. From the information we’re given, it certainly seems like Turin is onto something. Would the book have benefited from more balance? Certainly. Should Burr have given up on the book when Turin’s detractors refused to cooperate? Certainly not; it’s too much fun to be missed. The Emperor of Scent is a book much like its protagonist: sharp, smart, unconventional, pugnacious, and entertaining.
March 21, 2022
This book was worth reading, but there were some things about the presentation that prevented it from true greatness.
The subject matter was quite interesting -- kudos to Mr. Burr, who met the book's subject on a train and realized there was a great story to be told. Also, unlike many other topics in science writing, this isn't a story I've read a hundred times before.
Here, we meet Luca Turin, who both by training and temperament is an expert on smell. He knows more about fragrance than any person living, probably, from the molecular structure that provides it to the emotional triggers the smell sets off. Where things get murky is in between -- what happens between the nose and the brain that allows smell to be recognized?
Here, alas, Mr. Burr is out of his league. It's never a simple thing to take a complex scientific idea and make it comprehensible to non-experts, but the attempt here -- to describe everything as Shape or Vibration -- seems even more simplistic than actually required. And the bizarre, almost-random capitalization of letters must follow some formula that is only clear to the author.
The book goes off the rails in the final third, where the author reproduces a number of emails and other sources verbatim, attempting to show there is a conspiracy afoot to discredit Turin's theory. It is indeed possible that the entire scientific establishment is somehow dedicated to destroying Mr. Turin's theories for reasons no more complex than spite or jealousy, but somehow I doubt it. The failure to really explain why Turin's theories have been so poorly received is another book that has yet to be written, but one I'd be interested in reading.
The subject matter was quite interesting -- kudos to Mr. Burr, who met the book's subject on a train and realized there was a great story to be told. Also, unlike many other topics in science writing, this isn't a story I've read a hundred times before.
Here, we meet Luca Turin, who both by training and temperament is an expert on smell. He knows more about fragrance than any person living, probably, from the molecular structure that provides it to the emotional triggers the smell sets off. Where things get murky is in between -- what happens between the nose and the brain that allows smell to be recognized?
Here, alas, Mr. Burr is out of his league. It's never a simple thing to take a complex scientific idea and make it comprehensible to non-experts, but the attempt here -- to describe everything as Shape or Vibration -- seems even more simplistic than actually required. And the bizarre, almost-random capitalization of letters must follow some formula that is only clear to the author.
The book goes off the rails in the final third, where the author reproduces a number of emails and other sources verbatim, attempting to show there is a conspiracy afoot to discredit Turin's theory. It is indeed possible that the entire scientific establishment is somehow dedicated to destroying Mr. Turin's theories for reasons no more complex than spite or jealousy, but somehow I doubt it. The failure to really explain why Turin's theories have been so poorly received is another book that has yet to be written, but one I'd be interested in reading.
March 4, 2009
This book is about a extraordinary man (who wrote the Perfume Guide I just read), but more so, about the excitement of scientific exploration and the barriers to science imposed by its own scholarly establishment. With his multi-disciplinary expertise, quirky perspective, and rule-flaunting, scientist and perfume expert Luca Turin had an uphill battle getting recognition for his most astonishing and convincing data. A great read.
January 13, 2023
Thanks, Kristy, for giving me a hardcover copy of "The Emperor of Scent."
Simply put, this delightful book is the story of a great nose. Learn how Luca Tirin found his own method for dishing on perfumes... and what that,in turn, set in motion.
Distinguishing the components of smells can be the work of a lifetime. Alternatively, for us mere hobbyists, fragrance... makes life worth... smelling.
Simply put, this delightful book is the story of a great nose. Learn how Luca Tirin found his own method for dishing on perfumes... and what that,in turn, set in motion.
Distinguishing the components of smells can be the work of a lifetime. Alternatively, for us mere hobbyists, fragrance... makes life worth... smelling.
January 2, 2023
The most interesting book I've ever read. Utterly fascinating! Some of the science stuff slowed me down a bit, but it's a hugely engrossing read and one I will probably revisit. Brilliant!
December 14, 2017
Beautifully written book that is a real page turner, reading more like a mystery novel than a nonfiction book about smell. The main character, Turin reminded me of Rick, from Rick and Morty. This made for an entertaining read and a complete skewering of the infallibility of the scientific method. This book offered insight to how science research really gets done, what it means to challenge the status quo, what goes into perfume making, and how we smell things.
January 30, 2009
Fascinating and also extremely worrying if the state of peer reviewed science is really as described in this book.
August 14, 2021
A book about scent and how we smell more than about perfumes, which, don't get me wrong, play a pivotal role. But it doesn't stop there. This is a book about the scientific process to get a new theory known and accepted, and thusly about human pettiness, jealousy, hardheadedness, and being who we are with the need to find meaning with our existence and what we do. So, that is got out of the way, I can say that this book blew my mind. It made me realize I have ignored a vital sense I come equipped with, and as I read the book, I realized I'm not the only one. Why and how we smell and what it means to us is somewhat widely ignored even when we spend vast amounts of money on products that make us and our houses smell nice. And now, I have to say a cliché; I see the world differently even if Luca Turin's theory that smell is about vibration is wrong (which I highly doubt it. It makes sense if you look at the world of physics and how things come to be. It's about quantumness. But as I am not an expert in the field of biology, physics, or chemistry, I have to trust the evidence laid in the book, and that is very limited proof to place all your bets on. Plus, smell isn't about sex. It's about food. Thank you for Luca Turin pointing that out.)
Now, saying all that doesn't even begin to describe the book. There is more. There is Luca Turin for once. This is a book as much about him as about the scientific process or the quest for how we smell or about perfumes. And I was delighted to read about him and his history, his personality, and how passionate and obsessive he could be. All I could think was, I wish we indulged people more to behave like him. Maybe then the world wouldn't be as stagnant and full of accounts running the show. There's a part where Chandler Burr interrupts telling the story with his author's note (around the 2/3 part of the book). He describes in the author's note what it was to write the book, why it is a one-sided account about the theory of scent, and also states Luca's concerns about how he comes off. Of course, he might have been misrepresented in the pages, but if it was a close enough account, he shouldn't have worried. As I wrote, we need more people who don't follow the line and are larger than life with all due respect.
So, what now? I can't seem to want to pick another fact book because I seem to want to dwell on what I read. I go into rooms and situations, trying to smell them and decipher what I sense. And there are times I fear I don't have a nose for it. I even found myself wanting to smell all the perfumes in the book, although I have always hated perfumes. They feel too strong and overpowering to me. More so, as a writer, this book inspired me. It gave me a new vocabulary. I don't consider smells anymore along the same lines before I read the book. But, again, a cliché, it opened my senses, and the world became a lot stranger place to exist with a spectroscope inside my nose, which makes me tat closer to the quantum world, enabling me to smell atoms and molecules. I even wrote a cheesy short story inspired by this book.
And as you can see, I cannot give some objective view about the vices and virtues of the book. Chandler Burr has done a fantastic job conveying the story so well that I was there the whole ride, feeling and sensing things no science book has ever done. As I planned to write this review, I was going to state all the facts I read about the human nose, g-proteins, chemistry, physics, how we breathe one nostril at a time, and how that affects our brain and vice versa, and about smoking and all, but this became more of a personal adoration, so forgive me.
Thank you for reading, have an aromatic day!
Now, saying all that doesn't even begin to describe the book. There is more. There is Luca Turin for once. This is a book as much about him as about the scientific process or the quest for how we smell or about perfumes. And I was delighted to read about him and his history, his personality, and how passionate and obsessive he could be. All I could think was, I wish we indulged people more to behave like him. Maybe then the world wouldn't be as stagnant and full of accounts running the show. There's a part where Chandler Burr interrupts telling the story with his author's note (around the 2/3 part of the book). He describes in the author's note what it was to write the book, why it is a one-sided account about the theory of scent, and also states Luca's concerns about how he comes off. Of course, he might have been misrepresented in the pages, but if it was a close enough account, he shouldn't have worried. As I wrote, we need more people who don't follow the line and are larger than life with all due respect.
So, what now? I can't seem to want to pick another fact book because I seem to want to dwell on what I read. I go into rooms and situations, trying to smell them and decipher what I sense. And there are times I fear I don't have a nose for it. I even found myself wanting to smell all the perfumes in the book, although I have always hated perfumes. They feel too strong and overpowering to me. More so, as a writer, this book inspired me. It gave me a new vocabulary. I don't consider smells anymore along the same lines before I read the book. But, again, a cliché, it opened my senses, and the world became a lot stranger place to exist with a spectroscope inside my nose, which makes me tat closer to the quantum world, enabling me to smell atoms and molecules. I even wrote a cheesy short story inspired by this book.
And as you can see, I cannot give some objective view about the vices and virtues of the book. Chandler Burr has done a fantastic job conveying the story so well that I was there the whole ride, feeling and sensing things no science book has ever done. As I planned to write this review, I was going to state all the facts I read about the human nose, g-proteins, chemistry, physics, how we breathe one nostril at a time, and how that affects our brain and vice versa, and about smoking and all, but this became more of a personal adoration, so forgive me.
Thank you for reading, have an aromatic day!
February 3, 2009
This book tells the story of Luca Turin and his wacky idea about how your nose actually works. It's a very slow build for me, as there were about ten chapters that followed the following pattern: Turin hypothesized something, put off testing it for fear it would disprove his beautiful theory, finally ran the experiment, which did not disprove his theory, then tried to share this with the greater scientific community and they ignored him. Rinse, repeat.
It's an unfortunately honest look at the scientific world, which should be dispassionate analysis of actual fact. In the last chapter, Turin presents his theory at a conference and the grand poobah of Smell makes this horribly stupid comment, which the author parses as: So what, you've discovered how the stomach works, you still eat with your mouth don't you? It was very "this changes nothing!" when in fact, it does kind of change everything.
As the book goes along, you start to wonder what the hell is up with the greater scientific community. His experiments all make sense! Unlike their stupid theory, which does not! Luminaries start hanging up when the author brings up his name in interviews! Peer review is kind of a scam!
The author is pretty candid about painting Turin as an unrepentant jerk, which is kind of refreshing in a world of softly-lit portraits of scientists. physicists
It's an unfortunately honest look at the scientific world, which should be dispassionate analysis of actual fact. In the last chapter, Turin presents his theory at a conference and the grand poobah of Smell makes this horribly stupid comment, which the author parses as: So what, you've discovered how the stomach works, you still eat with your mouth don't you? It was very "this changes nothing!" when in fact, it does kind of change everything.
As the book goes along, you start to wonder what the hell is up with the greater scientific community. His experiments all make sense! Unlike their stupid theory, which does not! Luminaries start hanging up when the author brings up his name in interviews! Peer review is kind of a scam!
The author is pretty candid about painting Turin as an unrepentant jerk, which is kind of refreshing in a world of softly-lit portraits of scientists. physicists
October 8, 2017
A book on smell? I suppose that could be interesting...Is what I said to myself when I picked this up on a whim at a used book store. My god, what a gem!
It follows the story or Luca Turin, a curious, odd, intelligent, difficult, stubborn, quirky man and his theory that our noses use the vibrations of chemical bonds to detect odor. This totally goes against the prevailing theory that smell is determined by the shape of the molecule. The book is as exciting as any Jason Bourne story with Turin on the move, constantly fighting the ego of scientists, the secrecy and big money of the perfume industry, the flaws of peer review (even *especially at Nature) and the human condition that when someone disproves something you deeply believe, you just dig your heels in further and believe it even more, despite the evidence.
I can't recommend this book enough and am going to have to read all of Burr's books now!
It follows the story or Luca Turin, a curious, odd, intelligent, difficult, stubborn, quirky man and his theory that our noses use the vibrations of chemical bonds to detect odor. This totally goes against the prevailing theory that smell is determined by the shape of the molecule. The book is as exciting as any Jason Bourne story with Turin on the move, constantly fighting the ego of scientists, the secrecy and big money of the perfume industry, the flaws of peer review (even *especially at Nature) and the human condition that when someone disproves something you deeply believe, you just dig your heels in further and believe it even more, despite the evidence.
I can't recommend this book enough and am going to have to read all of Burr's books now!
March 23, 2012
As I love scent, I just loved this book. It was an amazing combination of information on Luca Turin ( whose book on perfumes is a true classic), on perfume, on the scientific method, and on the world of "smell" science. Some of it was slow going for me - who has no science - and I would have to read and reread sections, but the description of Turin the man and scientist and of perfumes were
wonderful. I did some subsequent research to discover the current status of the vibrational frequency vs. molecular shape theories of smell and found that both still have adherents.
wonderful. I did some subsequent research to discover the current status of the vibrational frequency vs. molecular shape theories of smell and found that both still have adherents.
June 19, 2018
When I read nonfiction, I often find myself looking things up on Google Image Search. When I read an art book earlier this year (My Love Affair with Modern Art: Behind the Scenes with a Legendary Curator), half the joy was looking up every artist the author mentions. With Neil Gaiman's Sandman series of comics, I would often use Wikipedia to bring me up to snuff with the historical figures he had turned into characters. We live in a lovely era of technology where we can supplement what we read with images, video, and sound, not to mention miles and miles of text.
It's hard to do that with The Emperor of Scent to the same degree. In a book that is so heavily centered on smell, there is no way to experience the scents being talked about without digging up actual samples. Of course, this is not a problem with author Chandler Burr, nor with the man (Luca Turin) on whom the book focuses. But as wonderful as Turin's ability to describe scents, they are still left to the imagination.
The Emperor of Scent is a lot of things. In most simple terms, it is both a biography (of the aforementioned Turin) and science text (as Turin grapples with how we smell). It also dabbles in history and criticism, but everything is honed to communicate the arc of Turin's "obsession" (to use the subtitle word) with scents and how that passion evolved into his theory as to how smelling works.
If you simply take a look a chapter list for The Emperor of Scent, one thing will stand out. Amid eight blandly titled chapters (Chapter I through Chapter VIII), there is an "Author's Note." Books often have author notes, especially nonfiction, and they're usually at the very beginning or very end. Here Burr smashes it in between Chapters V and VI. There is a Very Good Reason for this: After we see so much push back from the science community about his theory--a word I'm using in the casual way, not scientific way--we might expect comment from the experts who disagree. But, as Burr discovered, no one was willing to go on record (or even figure out what Turin's theory is even saying).
Thus, the thing that truly stands out about The Emperor of Scent isn't so much the science Turin gives us, but rather his inability to take his ideas to a point where anyone will listen.
The accepted take is that we smell based on the shapes of the atoms entering our nose. There are plenty of problems with this take--most of which shapists either brush off or assume is a problem with our understanding of shape, not with shape itself. Of course, the practical application of the "how" of smell is felt heaviest by perfumists. (One of the more fascinating details in the book is how most of our commercial scents, whether bottles of perfume or shampoo or Tide pods or whatever, all come from one of a handful of international corporations.) In the crazed dash to try and find those high dollar scents, the corporations are spending oodles of money on predictive models based on shape. And, whether because shape needs tweaking or because it's completely wrong, they are getting a ton more misfires than hits. All this really wastes is time--none of the misfires are hitting the market--but time is money.
In waltzes Turin, biochemist by trade, with a passion for perfume and a vicarious appetite for reading dense science tomes, who stumbles upon an article from the 1950s where a scientist proposes that we smell by vibration--our noses detecting the vibrations of the bonds within the atoms. That article is smashed by the scientific community--for entirely valid reasons. Except, as Turin looks at those reasons, he starts to envision how to change the idea so that it does work--bypassing the rationales for dismissing the article.
Thus, most of the book is Turin's development of vibration-based smelling. Large swaths are direct quotes--mostly from Turin--taken during Burr's time with him. (Burr mentions at one point that he spent 4 years with Turin while developing the book.) But there are also email correspondence and excerpts from various Turin writings (he's written several perfume guides). The stuff that isn't coming directly from Turin is your typical reporter reports for a book prose. (Which is to say, more The Orchid Thief: A True Story of Beauty and Obsession and not random articles from the newspaper. And now that I think about it, there are some interesting parallels between The Orchid Thief and The Emperor of Scent.)
Aside from the inability to find contrary voices to provide an actual counterpoint to Turin's ideas (Burr's standard conversation went something like this: "Vibration was disproved in the 50s." "Well, what about Turin's article?" "Haven't read it." "Would you read it and respond?" "No."), The Emperor of Scent's biggest problem is length. It's a long, dense book. Too much biography stuff (we get pretty lengthy back histories of both of his parents, neither of which impact the actual narrative arc) and too much non-lay science (Turin's theory uses chemistry, biology, and physics--part of his issue with getting anyone to even understand it, as even scientists are pretty entrenched in one arena--and takes a lot of dense textbook-style writing to communicate; I wish Burr had did what Brian Greene did with The Elegant Universe: Superstrings, Hidden Dimensions, and the Quest for the Ultimate Theory and put the more intense stuff in end notes).
I hesitate to comment on Turin's theory itself--I'm certainly not scientific in any way--but at the least, Burr's communication of it makes it hard to envision shape as viable, and vibration as at least good groundwork to start from. And because of that effectiveness, the continual disinterest from the science community in examining Turin's findings is aggravating (to me, as a reader, and infinitely so to Turin, as the guy who's dedicated a large part of his life to this).
But as I said above, even if you decide to ignore whether or not Turin's theory is valid, the narrative that The Emperor of Scent paints about the science peer review process is both fascinating and depressing. I don't view science as the be-all and end-all for the simple fact that we are continually learning new things that evolve our outlook; much like particle physics was once gospel, when we got to the atomic level we had to concoct quantum mechanics to explain it. If science is, as I've thought, the pursuit of truth, it hurts to see so many scientists described as being uninterested in advancing that truth. It's not even Turin's inability to find support in the scientific (nor perfume) world--it's his inability to even get anyone interested in engaging him on the subject. The saddest part of the book is also one of the happiest parts of the book: Turin is finally invited to speak at a scientific nose convention-type of thing. To see him interact with an audience, engaging with questions--it brings him alive. It's something he was missing all those years of working in practical solitude.
Of course, Turin himself is one of the major reasons The Emperor of Scent succeeds. He's one of those people that you'd describe as "a personality"--with all the good and the bad that term entails. But his quotes reflect a man who is very intelligent and articulate, with just enough quirk to make that intelligence go down smooth. His enthusiasm raw and unbridled (I'll never forget the mental image of him scurrying around, demanding coworkers to "Smell this!"). But strong-headed and, by virtue of his strong opinions, abrasive.
A solid--and even great--read, depending on what you're looking to get out of it. But if you take it on its own terms, it's interesting and informative.
It's hard to do that with The Emperor of Scent to the same degree. In a book that is so heavily centered on smell, there is no way to experience the scents being talked about without digging up actual samples. Of course, this is not a problem with author Chandler Burr, nor with the man (Luca Turin) on whom the book focuses. But as wonderful as Turin's ability to describe scents, they are still left to the imagination.
The Emperor of Scent is a lot of things. In most simple terms, it is both a biography (of the aforementioned Turin) and science text (as Turin grapples with how we smell). It also dabbles in history and criticism, but everything is honed to communicate the arc of Turin's "obsession" (to use the subtitle word) with scents and how that passion evolved into his theory as to how smelling works.
If you simply take a look a chapter list for The Emperor of Scent, one thing will stand out. Amid eight blandly titled chapters (Chapter I through Chapter VIII), there is an "Author's Note." Books often have author notes, especially nonfiction, and they're usually at the very beginning or very end. Here Burr smashes it in between Chapters V and VI. There is a Very Good Reason for this: After we see so much push back from the science community about his theory--a word I'm using in the casual way, not scientific way--we might expect comment from the experts who disagree. But, as Burr discovered, no one was willing to go on record (or even figure out what Turin's theory is even saying).
Thus, the thing that truly stands out about The Emperor of Scent isn't so much the science Turin gives us, but rather his inability to take his ideas to a point where anyone will listen.
The accepted take is that we smell based on the shapes of the atoms entering our nose. There are plenty of problems with this take--most of which shapists either brush off or assume is a problem with our understanding of shape, not with shape itself. Of course, the practical application of the "how" of smell is felt heaviest by perfumists. (One of the more fascinating details in the book is how most of our commercial scents, whether bottles of perfume or shampoo or Tide pods or whatever, all come from one of a handful of international corporations.) In the crazed dash to try and find those high dollar scents, the corporations are spending oodles of money on predictive models based on shape. And, whether because shape needs tweaking or because it's completely wrong, they are getting a ton more misfires than hits. All this really wastes is time--none of the misfires are hitting the market--but time is money.
In waltzes Turin, biochemist by trade, with a passion for perfume and a vicarious appetite for reading dense science tomes, who stumbles upon an article from the 1950s where a scientist proposes that we smell by vibration--our noses detecting the vibrations of the bonds within the atoms. That article is smashed by the scientific community--for entirely valid reasons. Except, as Turin looks at those reasons, he starts to envision how to change the idea so that it does work--bypassing the rationales for dismissing the article.
Thus, most of the book is Turin's development of vibration-based smelling. Large swaths are direct quotes--mostly from Turin--taken during Burr's time with him. (Burr mentions at one point that he spent 4 years with Turin while developing the book.) But there are also email correspondence and excerpts from various Turin writings (he's written several perfume guides). The stuff that isn't coming directly from Turin is your typical reporter reports for a book prose. (Which is to say, more The Orchid Thief: A True Story of Beauty and Obsession and not random articles from the newspaper. And now that I think about it, there are some interesting parallels between The Orchid Thief and The Emperor of Scent.)
Aside from the inability to find contrary voices to provide an actual counterpoint to Turin's ideas (Burr's standard conversation went something like this: "Vibration was disproved in the 50s." "Well, what about Turin's article?" "Haven't read it." "Would you read it and respond?" "No."), The Emperor of Scent's biggest problem is length. It's a long, dense book. Too much biography stuff (we get pretty lengthy back histories of both of his parents, neither of which impact the actual narrative arc) and too much non-lay science (Turin's theory uses chemistry, biology, and physics--part of his issue with getting anyone to even understand it, as even scientists are pretty entrenched in one arena--and takes a lot of dense textbook-style writing to communicate; I wish Burr had did what Brian Greene did with The Elegant Universe: Superstrings, Hidden Dimensions, and the Quest for the Ultimate Theory and put the more intense stuff in end notes).
I hesitate to comment on Turin's theory itself--I'm certainly not scientific in any way--but at the least, Burr's communication of it makes it hard to envision shape as viable, and vibration as at least good groundwork to start from. And because of that effectiveness, the continual disinterest from the science community in examining Turin's findings is aggravating (to me, as a reader, and infinitely so to Turin, as the guy who's dedicated a large part of his life to this).
But as I said above, even if you decide to ignore whether or not Turin's theory is valid, the narrative that The Emperor of Scent paints about the science peer review process is both fascinating and depressing. I don't view science as the be-all and end-all for the simple fact that we are continually learning new things that evolve our outlook; much like particle physics was once gospel, when we got to the atomic level we had to concoct quantum mechanics to explain it. If science is, as I've thought, the pursuit of truth, it hurts to see so many scientists described as being uninterested in advancing that truth. It's not even Turin's inability to find support in the scientific (nor perfume) world--it's his inability to even get anyone interested in engaging him on the subject. The saddest part of the book is also one of the happiest parts of the book: Turin is finally invited to speak at a scientific nose convention-type of thing. To see him interact with an audience, engaging with questions--it brings him alive. It's something he was missing all those years of working in practical solitude.
Of course, Turin himself is one of the major reasons The Emperor of Scent succeeds. He's one of those people that you'd describe as "a personality"--with all the good and the bad that term entails. But his quotes reflect a man who is very intelligent and articulate, with just enough quirk to make that intelligence go down smooth. His enthusiasm raw and unbridled (I'll never forget the mental image of him scurrying around, demanding coworkers to "Smell this!"). But strong-headed and, by virtue of his strong opinions, abrasive.
A solid--and even great--read, depending on what you're looking to get out of it. But if you take it on its own terms, it's interesting and informative.
January 1, 2019
two things you should know about me: 1. i took an AP chemistry class in high school, which i passed purely because i did all the homework even if i never grasped any of the concepts and 2. i'm newly obsessed with perfume. the best way for me to get into a new hobby is of course, through reading, so i winded up reading the emperor of scent, about the legendary luca turin, a sort of mad scientist with a black sheep theory on olfactory receptors and an influential, eccentric perfume critic with a big personality. this isn't really as much of a perfume book as it is a science book, a sort of biography, and absolutely riveting, especially considering how dense and technical the science aspects of this can get. i couldn't stop reading. and it's a feat i can't stop marveling about. well done, chandler burr, and recommended for ANYONE into narrative non-fiction, suspenseful hooks based on science conferences, perfume or just diving into a surprisingly wild, wacky world of perfumers and scientists.
December 17, 2009
i was a little disappointed that it was mostly about the subject's academic paper/new theory of scent being accepted/submitted/reviewed/rejected in various journals than about the history of various perfumes and their scent notes. At points it gets a bit too chatty with the reader, inviting disbelief and surprise, etc... the "dear reader" tactic is off-putting to me, in non-fiction. The pages of formulae are a bit dull, even for one as fond of chemistry as i am.
i shall be looking for other works more related to the historical aspects of the perfume industry and not just one individuals experiences. perhaps i just was hoping it to be something it wasn't. As a biography of the subject and his research theories, it serves just fine, just not to my taste.
i shall be looking for other works more related to the historical aspects of the perfume industry and not just one individuals experiences. perhaps i just was hoping it to be something it wasn't. As a biography of the subject and his research theories, it serves just fine, just not to my taste.
August 24, 2008
While I loved the initial reels of this book -- the gloriously chewy descriptions of the perfumes, so sensual I read them over and over before moving on -- all the scientific stuff and chemical components lost me. It seems I didn't really care about the scientist's quest for scent so much as his appreciation of it.
March 1, 2013
The content is informative and interesting. However, the writing in this book, compared to Perfect Scent, is poor. Toward the end, Burr is basically reproducing Turin's emails without offering interpretation or discussion. This style may work in news reporting, but I expect more from a book.
November 10, 2019
Luca Turin is a fascinating man. This book was not. I could only make it about 1/3 through.
Most of it was drama surrounding his theory of scent working its way through the scientific political machine, as well as a fair bit of chemistry and physics (my head is not currently in the right place for chemistry and physics).
Perhaps if I was still involved in my old pastime of perfume collecting, I'd have more interest. The quotes from Turin were by far the best and most worthwhile parts to read.
Most of it was drama surrounding his theory of scent working its way through the scientific political machine, as well as a fair bit of chemistry and physics (my head is not currently in the right place for chemistry and physics).
Perhaps if I was still involved in my old pastime of perfume collecting, I'd have more interest. The quotes from Turin were by far the best and most worthwhile parts to read.
November 7, 2012
Very absorbing reading. I have always been very sensitive to smells of any kind, but only in the last couple years have I started to wonder what makes things smell the way they do. Following that inquiry I did some research and found that what we smell are molecules, so basil smells similar to certain mints, and rosemary smells a little like mugwort, because they contain some (but not all) of the same molecules. Having learned that much was already like opening a new door in a huge and beautiful mansion. Then I read several articles on dogs trained to smell drugs, money, etc. at airports and borders,and I met a dog trainer, by chance,and the ability dogs have to pick up tiny traces of molecules with their sense of smell just amazed me. I read an article in an Italian newspaper in early September, about Chandler Burr's new art of smell museum in New York, and I recalled I had read a fantastic article by him in The New Yorker several years before, on the making of Hermès Un Jardin Sur Le Nil. The article was so fascinating I went out and bought the perfume. Anyway, I knew I had to read this book! Fantastic! I learned so much about smell, both how we perceive it and about how perfumes are made. I also really enjoyed the characterization of Luca Turin- a wild card, brilliant man. Even before finishing this book I bought Luca Turin's Guide to Perfumes, and am planning a morning at Sephora for next week, for some intense smelling and perhaps a purchase or two.
My only tiny criticism is that occasionally in the writing I felt the author put a little too much of his own personality into it- certain expressions and comments. It didn't really bother me much but it seemed just slightly unprofessional.
My only tiny criticism is that occasionally in the writing I felt the author put a little too much of his own personality into it- certain expressions and comments. It didn't really bother me much but it seemed just slightly unprofessional.
October 21, 2018
The story of Luca Turin contains complex, but highly useful lessons. As a laymen I thoroughly enjoy the chemical descriptions in the books, which are elegantly woven into an exciting narrative. The book poses a number of questions, which I'm still contemplating the answers to.
Why do we keep believing that scientists are not governed by the basic human principle of self-interest?
Why do Luca Turin and the author seem to expect help from the established scientific community?
Is Luca Turin a hero or rather the opposite?
If multidisciplinary ideas hold promise of radical progress, how does the creator ensure that the audience understands them?
What role does Luca Turin's lack of "marketing skills" play in his struggles when it comes to communicating his ideas to his peers?
What role does Luca Turin's rather harsh treatment of people with opposed views play in his struggles?
If Luca Turin is brilliant and right, why has the vibration theory not yet been proved as of 2018?
To what extent is scientific progress stunted because of the established scientific community's wish to preserve the status quo?
Has America, the land of the free, in a strange way turned into the most conformist Western culture of all?
Have contries like France and Italy an advanced understanding and appreciation of aesthetics that other cultures could learn from?
Why do we keep believing that scientists are not governed by the basic human principle of self-interest?
Why do Luca Turin and the author seem to expect help from the established scientific community?
Is Luca Turin a hero or rather the opposite?
If multidisciplinary ideas hold promise of radical progress, how does the creator ensure that the audience understands them?
What role does Luca Turin's lack of "marketing skills" play in his struggles when it comes to communicating his ideas to his peers?
What role does Luca Turin's rather harsh treatment of people with opposed views play in his struggles?
If Luca Turin is brilliant and right, why has the vibration theory not yet been proved as of 2018?
To what extent is scientific progress stunted because of the established scientific community's wish to preserve the status quo?
Has America, the land of the free, in a strange way turned into the most conformist Western culture of all?
Have contries like France and Italy an advanced understanding and appreciation of aesthetics that other cultures could learn from?
July 8, 2014
An interesting and worrying look at science in today's commercial age. Although the book attempts to explain the science behind Turin's theory, I personally found it difficult to grasp more than the basic concepts. However, I am an English major, not a scientist! And the science is not necessarily the most important part of the book.
Far more vital to the story that a Burr is telling is the reactions of other scientists. In a form of learning which relies greatly on peer-review for it's promotion, one would hope for neutrality in all parties. However, this book demonstrates how pride, stubbornness and self-interest get in the way of the progression of science. The book feels somewhat one-sided,and then Burr explains the reason for this - the majority of Turin's detractors had not bothered to read the paper in which he sets out his theory. It's frankly a very worrying read.
However, the book is let down by the writing style, which sometimes has a tendency to read like a Wikipedia page, stating facts and quoting emails verbatim without any additional information. The sections which discuss perfume are stronger, but some of the science sections were extremely unexciting to read. Overall, an informative story told in an un exciting way.
Far more vital to the story that a Burr is telling is the reactions of other scientists. In a form of learning which relies greatly on peer-review for it's promotion, one would hope for neutrality in all parties. However, this book demonstrates how pride, stubbornness and self-interest get in the way of the progression of science. The book feels somewhat one-sided,and then Burr explains the reason for this - the majority of Turin's detractors had not bothered to read the paper in which he sets out his theory. It's frankly a very worrying read.
However, the book is let down by the writing style, which sometimes has a tendency to read like a Wikipedia page, stating facts and quoting emails verbatim without any additional information. The sections which discuss perfume are stronger, but some of the science sections were extremely unexciting to read. Overall, an informative story told in an un exciting way.
September 5, 2013
This is a TOTALLY excellent book. Even if you, like I, have never worn or been interested in perfume, you will find this book a delightful introduction to chemistry, told through the lens of the protaganist's obsession with and amazing facility for the composition of perfumes.
Although it will never happen in this lifetime, this book came THIS CLOSE to making me want to study chemistry. (An effect it shares with Alan Bradley's FLAVIA DE LUCE mysteryies for young adults, starting with THE SWEETNESS AT THE BOTTOM OF THE PIE. But I digress.)
The author has chronicled the story of a young man who always had a knack for analyzing the structure of perfume. This young man pursued that interest right into the secret labs where France's most famous (and most secret) perfumes are constructed. The blend of chemistry, mystery, politics, and business practices in this story is unique and irresistable. I highly recommend it!
Although it will never happen in this lifetime, this book came THIS CLOSE to making me want to study chemistry. (An effect it shares with Alan Bradley's FLAVIA DE LUCE mysteryies for young adults, starting with THE SWEETNESS AT THE BOTTOM OF THE PIE. But I digress.)
The author has chronicled the story of a young man who always had a knack for analyzing the structure of perfume. This young man pursued that interest right into the secret labs where France's most famous (and most secret) perfumes are constructed. The blend of chemistry, mystery, politics, and business practices in this story is unique and irresistable. I highly recommend it!
July 30, 2017
This was recommended to me by a friend when she found out that I collect perfume oils, so I ordered it from the library sight unseen and was quite surprised when it turned out to be about only 30% about perfume, 50% about academic and scientific politics, and 20% about avant-garde biophysics.
I loved the parts about perfume. Since I'm not much interested in personality plays about how very oppressed a given scientist is because The Establishment won't accept his theories, the rest was not much to my taste.
I loved the parts about perfume. Since I'm not much interested in personality plays about how very oppressed a given scientist is because The Establishment won't accept his theories, the rest was not much to my taste.
March 22, 2020
Better than I expected. Highly readable with interesting insights into history, biophysics, the fragrance industry, academic politics surrounding getting published by top-tier publications, especially those that challenge orthodoxy that is decades entrenched.
June 20, 2008
Too much chemistry, too little scent.
March 5, 2011
I learned so much! Hurray for nonfiction.
May 20, 2012
Very well written across a broad span of worlds, and a thoroughly depressing insight into the politicking world of modern academic science.
November 11, 2018
Magnificent! Funny, scientific, unceasingly fascinating.
One of the best science books I've read in a long time.
One of the best science books I've read in a long time.
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