Customer Reviews

Perfumes: The Guide

5 star:		(57)
4 star:		(19)
3 star:		(10)
2 star:		(12)
1 star:		(15)

 

 

Turin argues in his earlier book, _The Secret of Scent_, that smell is not so much about memory and biology, as is widely believed, as it is about beauty and imagination. He believes, furthermore, that one of the highest achievements in perfumery is what he terms "abstraction," that is to say, the creation of olfactory accords that, while perhaps alluding to natural smells, are novel and resistant to definition. These aesthetic axioms (which he presumably shares with co-author/wife Tania Sanchez) are the basis of the evaluations in this book, and we, as readers, have no choice but to take them or leave them. These axioms lead the authors to prefer complex fragrances over simple ones, fragrances that develop over time to linear ones, original and/or unique fragrances over skillful executions of old ideas, "interesting" (even if vaguely unpleasant) fragrances over boring (even if pleasant) ones, etc. In a nutshell, they apply the same standards to perfume that other critics usually apply to other arts. They want perfumery to be taken seriously as an art form, and say as much.

This is a legitimate view, and one to which I am highly sympathetic. That said, I think the authors overlook (or deliberately ignore) some of the factors that render the purely aesthetic appreciation of perfume difficult at best. First of all, perfumes are made to be worn. The final aesthetic effect of a fragrance is inseparable from the time, place, and person(s) involved. Of course this "framing" or contextualization effect is at work in all art forms, but it is arguably more important for perfumery than for others. Given the fact that perfumes are mixtures of chemicals, factors such as temperature, humidity, skin pH, decomposition, underlying body odor, age-related hyposmia, differing olfactory thresholds, etc., make this state-dependence even more crucial. And, regardless of what Turin might say, it is simply impossible to separate a fragrance from the associations (read: memories) it may evoke. Perhaps it's possible to "see" the Platonic form of a perfume behind all of these contingencies, but I highly doubt it. Our reactions to smells are visceral before they're intellectual or aesthetic, no doubt because our sense of smell is our primary sentinel against many toxins and pathogens. Individual differences in sensitivity to certain aromatic chemicals are highly significant and render any kind of objective discussion of fragrances impossible. We're not even working with the same equipment--it's like a society of people who are all partially blind to different colors trying to discuss color coordination. The fundamental variability of our olfactory apparatus, even before differences in taste are taken into account, makes the arrogance of some of the pronouncements in this book a bit galling.

People *wear* fragrances (as opposed to sniffing them on strips--decidedly a minority pastime) for a variety of reasons: to make a statement, to find comfort or stimulation, to complement a particular ensemble, to seduce (and here the tastes of the quarry count far more than Apollonian meditations on beauty), and even, in some parts of the world, to mask the fact that they haven't bathed (it's no wonder that perfumery reached its pinnacle in Europe, where people didn't--and sometimes still don't--bathe regularly). Most people simply want a fragrance to make the day a little more pleasant for themselves and for those around them, not because they want to wear a work of "art" whose complexity and depth are going to make heads turn or spark a discussion about the relative merits of gourmand chypres and aromatic fougeres. Hence the incomprehension and hurt feelings that have greeted some of the harsher reviews in this book.

Assuming that one buys into the premise that perfume is a pure art, the authors, in general, seem to have excellent (i.e., informed, refined, and considered) taste--except when it comes to reviewing the work of their friends. Turin, for example, rates Calice Becker's Beyond Paradise Men as one of the top ten masculines currently in production. Since it isn't very expensive I decided to take a chance and buy it blind on his recommendation. The highly synthetic headache-in-a-bottle I got stuck with isn't terrible, I suppose, but if it's one of the top ten masculines that money can buy in early 2008, then I'm Jacques Guerlain. In a different part the book I discovered that Turin is good friends with Becker. Ah ha... I don't mean to suggest that Turin was cynically shilling for a friend, but rare is the man who is immune to the tender, insidious persuasions of friendship. I'm certain no one else on the planet would rate that fragrance quite so highly. Such are the dangers inherent in taking the word of a consummate industry insider without a huge grain of salt. Turin also awards points for historical importance to fragrances he can't even stand to be around--Opium, for example. This, I think, is taking the "perfume as art" shtick a little too far.When reviewing fragrances that knock their socks off (especially a fragrance saturated with some deep personal significance) both authors (but Sanchez in particular) tend to wax poetic and come off the rails in terms of actually describing the fragrance. Some of this lyricism is quite affecting, but alas too much of it sounds like an exercise for a creative writing workshop, and the straining for effect turns tiresome. The humor, too, is witty in spots but tends consistently towards juvenile mockery and inane plays on perfumes' names.

All of these caveats aside, this is a very informative and often entertaining book. If you love fragrances, it is clearly a must-buy because it offers an excellent idea of which to sample next. If it educates consumers to stop buying and chides producers to stop making the cheap and and often hideous potions flooding the market, it will have done its job. I've learned a lot from the book and am grateful to the authors for having written it, but in the end it's more trustworthy as a Baedeker than as a Michelin.

I bought this on a whim and am *very* glad I did. This book is both extraordinarily educational and deliciously funny. Along with some nice, straightforward teachings by obvious experts, the book is filled with hugely entertaining mini-reviews of fragrances. The classics are hailed but dissected for the benefit of the class. The mediocre are called on the carpet and judged for both their virtues and their sins. And the trivial and forgettable are dispatched with short but laser-like descriptions of their one failed mission. Prepare to see your guilty pleasures nailed to the cross, and your true loves frisked rudely for shoplifted items. But trust me - it's not like a single Joan Rivers gag photocopied over and over - there's tremendous variety in the reviews. Many recommend superior but lesser-known fragrances that "did it better" - extremely useful to newbies. A lot of history is woven into the reviews - right where you need it. In fact, the education factor is at least two stars of my review. There's even a too-short glossary for people who might be put off by "aldehyde", "fougère", or "woody-amber". I would have loved to have seen more.

I enjoyed the fact that fragrance classifications were toyed with - and with extreme precision. For every "woody citrus" there's something like "evil tuberose" or "sad shampoo". But the authors don't spare themselves from the microscope, either - and hilariously so. [Spoiler: Tania admits to falling in love with one of my wife's favorites while drunk in the store, only to regret her romantic mistake upon sobering up.]

I would not call the reviews mean, but compared to the faux-art BS of the PR flacks, and the generally courteous and literary treatment by fragrance blogistas, these reviews are short and honest to the point of a football tackle - American style. They demonstrate beautifully that the sense of smell is weighted differently for everybody. I found myself fist-pumping and yelling "hallelujah" in agreement with many reviews, but bewildered by others. In a few cases, the authors didn't even mention my personal "love notes", while trashing off-notes that I didn't even know were there. I think this demonstrates why one needs to view it like a trip to the comedy club. Your particular race, religion, or political party is gonna get some heat. They may even pick on your spouse a bit. But it's OK. If you keep a sense of humor, you'll have a good time.

For me, the thing which ultimately sells the book is the frank, intelligent writing. The authors open up the way the best fragrance journalists do - with 100% honesty, and allowing their points to wander into beautiful and effective analogies and sidebars. You will learn to have an effective opinion of fragrances by observing these two masters at work. These two authors have forgotten more about perfume than I will learn in the remainder of my life. And I now have literally dozens of leads on scents that I'm very likely to really enjoy. Just think how little a $10-20 investment is next to a single good bottle. People should get this for the good steers, even if they can't stand to read harsh reviews of their favorites.

I got an e-mail from Amazon (not that it's personal) to write a review of this book. After looking over the others, I don't really see what I can add, but here's my four cents:

1. It's a bit sad to me that folks are so insecure. So what if Turin and Sachez have a different opinion than you? I have heard people say they were devastated that The Guide doesn't say "their scent" is great. It doesn't say some of my favorites are either, and I could care less.

2. Why is everyone saying it's bitchy? Yes, it's scathing, but it's not bitchy. There's a world of difference. Turin and Sanchez love scent and this comes through. They are having fun, I would imagine. And what do we do when we're having fun? Make jokes. Overstate. No, it's not bitchy, for it's never mean just for the sake of it.

3. These folks are professionals in their field. Dr. Turin designs new scent molecules. It is no wonder that they both go for the unusual and even the unwearable. The vast majority of the mid-scale department store scents smell the same: how would you like it if you had to test these on a regular basis? I'm sure your taste, too, would become more refined and gravitate to more bang than, say, yet another quiet white floral.

4. Folks, have some faith in your own opinions and just enjoy. The bottom line is this: this book is a great deal of fun. If you're looking for a list of ingrediants, google it.

This is actually the second guide to perfume written by Luca Turin. It is updated and contains his assessments of such recent fragrances as Lush's Karma and Paris Hilton's "work". The essays are excellent, the assessments of the perfumes are spot-on (whether by Sanchez or Turin). It is indeed wonderful to have your memories of the original Arpege stirred up, or to be reminded that we live in a world where Chanel #5 still exists in proper form. I laughed at some of the barbs stuck in a few deserving effluvia, and sighed at Turin's assessment of old favorites which are not so nice any more. The only thing baffling is the star rating which seems to have very little to do with whether the authors liked the perfume; so you can get **** and a bad write up, or ** and a surprisingly merciful one. I don't consider that a big flaw, just a small eccentricity. The writing and points are so well made and this book has zoomed to the top of my charts, and I hope he comes out with an update/addendum sometime in the future where he and Sanchez talk about ones they may have overlooked like Bulgari's The Vert. First class thought, fun, and wisdom.

I'm older now, and I have a little more disposable income (and a lot more self-confidence), so I have had great fun using this book's witty reviews to guide me in trying and purchasing perfumes. I never had more than one or two bottles of perfume on my vanity table before. Now I have several dozen because this book has made me see perfume in a whole new way.

Yes, the book is a delight to read, but I have found it much more fun to actually use. Interestingly, I discovered just how interactive this book can be because I am a book lover.

I was intrigued by the book's description of a perfume by L'Artisan Parfumeur called Dzing! The authors likened the perfume's scent to a "secondhand bookstore." I purchased a bottle on a whim when I happened across it on a trip to New York. It was only when I was browsing at my favorite used bookstore days later that it struck me. The vanilla overtones in this fabulous scent do indeed evoke the wonderful aroma of old paper. I smelled my wrist, I sniffed the terrific, familiar book-laden air around me, I felt a happy sense of discovery and I was hooked.

Since reading this book, I have stuck it into my tote whenever I plan to be in a major department store. The book's vignettes ignite my curiosity and imagination.

Take, for example, Thierry Mugler's Angel. The authors deem this scent a masterpiece. They tell the reader the history behind the scent -- that it started as a joke which combined the elements of a masculine and a feminine fragrance, but that in making that joke the perfumer came up with a truly new kind of scent. The authors point out that Angel exists in a "high energy state of contradiction. Many perfumes are beautiful or pleasant, but how many are exciting?" Then the authors deliver the zinger, which gives me a mental image for placing the perfume into my own life context. They say that Angel evokes that " woman in a film who seethes "He's so annoying!" and marries him in the end." I got that! I could then smell the contradiction and the attraction in the scent. I purchased a bottle because the scent now "speaks" to me in a way it never could have before I read this book.

Is perfume necessary to my existence? No. When my children were small and we had meager time, money or energy, perfume was simply that handy bottle of Chanel No. 5 my mother had sent me for Christmas which I sprayed on to feel pretty on those infrequent dinner/movie dates with my husband (when we could get a babysitter.) Do I agree with everything the authors say about the various perfumes? No, but that's part of the fun.

This book has opened a pleasant door for me. Perfume has become a fascinating foray into sensual exploration. I enjoy reading the metaphors and similes, the creative adjectives and backstories describing these perfumes, and then experimenting with the truth of them for myself.

The authors have done something wonderful with this book. They have taken the mystique which advertising has always made sure surrounded fragrance and swept it away. But they have replaced that mystique with something better -- little personalities, if you will, for the different scents. Now browsing at the perfume counter has become like attending a cocktail party filled with famous people. Some will speak to you immediately. Some will stand back, but become friendly if you approach. Some are dull as dishwater. Some you will dislike. But being an insider at the party is exciting. I love that I have an invitation.

Luca Turin and Tania Sanchez have done what no one else has dared do in print---speak openly and critically of over one thousand fragrances. Jan Moran's Fabulous Fragrances 2 is a wonderful must-have, but Moran does not look at fragrances critically. The Perfume Guide by Susan Irvine, also a must-have, includes critiques of a number of fragrances and gives credit to the various perfumers, yet the scope of the book is limited by space and format. What Luca and Tania have done is to present the consumer with a handy, highly readable and informative guide to the vastly expanding world of fragrance. The introduction to the book covers almost 50 pages and has something for everyone, from the fragrance newbie to those of us who have been around the fragrance counter a few times.

Both LT and TS are very talented at what they do. Luca has the talent of kissing prose into poetry. His satisflyingly erudite allusions run the gamut from classical music to Horace's Odes to the Silver Screen (The Big Sleep, Michael Curtiz., e.g.) to Piltdown Man, and so on; if you're as long in the tooth as I am, these references are immediately understood and appreciated. Tania is no less talented and many of her reviews are vivid and beautiful; reading them is like being at a show by a young painter whose work is of such depth that it moves you in an ineffable way.

As pointed out in earlier reviews, this book is important because it is not only written for the consumer but functions also as a wake-up call and a challenge to the fragrance industry---"you're being watched and observed, and the changes being foisted rampantly upon some of the great classics are not un-noticed." One hopes that this book will bring about some badly needed change in an industry which operates mostly on the smoke and mirror concept (read: HYPE); sadly, the lover of fragrance is the loser when bean counters rule the day. My distinct impression is that the authors' biting criticism of some perfumes is not directed at the wearer but instead directed at whoever is mandating either A) all these cheap smelling clones of Angel, Pleasures, Cool Water, Tommy Girl; or B) changes in the great classics. Thus, their criticism is designed for a purpose, and that purpose is not to hurt feelings but to effect change. Luca and Tania aren't afraid to call a spade a spade. Kudos to them for that.

Perfumes: The Guide is not only informative but downright hilarious at times. Some reviews are laugh out loud funny. It's refreshing to see someone call a real stinker a real stinker without having the reader plow through a lot of superfluous language to get to the point. This book is a great read and a must-have for perfume lovers both inside and outside the industry.

This book would be important even if it weren't great. But it is! Most of us who wear fragrance make choices in an information wasteland, absent, until now, consumer reports. Perfume lovers, perfume likers and "who me, perfume?" people, read it and rise to the next level.

Those who enjoy the visual and performance arts, couture, wines and other pleasures take for granted that critical reviews anchor our understanding and increase our enjoyment of the art. A good movie will get raves and a bad one will be panned.

Turin and Sanchez transform the industry by talking straight about specific scents. Unlike the women's beauty magazine articles that promote a list of scents, all equally wonderful - just choose one based on your sexy, romantic or sporty personality - these authors tell you What It Smells Like.

It is a relief not to be the manufacturer of scents earning these distinctions: "short-lived sugary fruity blah in a hilariously cheap blinged-out bottle that looks like a toy designed for a six-year old and made in China...like getting lemon juice in a paper cut...synthetic citrus, green-herbal, and woody-amber horror...rubbing alcohol mixed with Palmolive dishwashing liquid...death by jasmine...like chewing tinfoil while staring at a welding arc...wear it at home exclusively, and tape the windows shut...mercifully, doesn't last."

Praise is more detailed and effusive than the bashings, however, and this is where Turin and Sanchez shine.

My complaints are few in number. I waited too long for this book, having followed Luca Turin and Tania Sanchez in perfume blogs for years and loving Turin's French, and much shorter version of the guide published in 1994. Searching the guide for certain scents I've loved, hated or wondered about, I found them not. Hopefully, Perfumes, The Guide Volume Two is not far behind.

Are they snobs? Yes and no. All talk of subjective perception and interpretation aside, these two know that there is such a thing as "good." Quality exists, whence the one to five star ratings. They recognize a place for Elvis on Velvet, but want better for you. Despite occasionally savage criticism - some sins of perfumery are unforgivable to Turin and Sanchez - the playful spirit prevails in the end.

Luca Turin and Tania Sanchez are brilliant, both masters of the notes and the meaning of scent. They serve up a reader-friendly meal of chemistry, fashion, culture and language with a generous helping of mischief.

This is a fun read for maybe a half hour, and then it becomes a bit repetitious. As much as I love perfume, I found myself getting bored with the reviews, and not long after realized I don't really care what either Turin or Sanchez have to say these scents. And no, it's not because we disagree on many things. We're actually in agreement on quite a few things... I just don't care.

Having read some of Turin's earlier reviews, I think I was hoping for a collection of very pointy, entertaining and pithy takes on scents, his trademark blend of sharp wit, industry insight and facile tongue. But this feels watered down for some reason. Sanchez is an excellent writer, and she does a lovely job with the essays up front, but I think some of us might've secretly been hoping for a heftier dose of Turin's insights and prose. I think I was, I just didn't realize it before I bought the book.

And yes, in case you hadn't already decided that perfume appreciation is a wildly subjective animal, this book will help you come to that conclusion. As another reviewer said, I hope perfume newbies don't take this as the perfume gospel or as a manual of perfume taste; they should learn to trust their own noses. Their reactions to scents are just as valid as anyone's, even if they're not as informed or experienced as Turin and Sanchez, and maybe because of it.

As I like to say, to thine own nose to be true!

I expected a light, dumb read. What I got was the most hilarious and thought-provoking book I've read in the last five years. They explain the technicalities of the subject as directly and patiently as your favorite high school teacher, but the reviews are acidic and laugh-out-loud funny (My friends are sick to death of me calling them to read them passages.). When you consider how intimately scent is linked to both attraction and memory, it's amazing that so little attention is paid to it. It amazes me how little attention I'VE paid to it. I bought this book less than two months ago and I've read it twice and refer to it almost daily. I've read in a couple places that they might be starting a newsletter or magazine of some sort. It would be a shame if they didn't.

The descriptions of perfumes in this book are AMAZING. I actually started highlighting and post-it marking different scents and have been on a mission to track them down and smell!!! There are several brief chapters in the beginning about the science of smell, the types of fragrances and the history of perfumes. And then! wonderful descriptions of perfume, some quite amusing. Jicky, Cuir de Russie, Apres l'Ondee, Lolita Lempicka, Mitsouko...names I've read over the years, but magazine reviews and scent flaps really are pitifully inadequate after reading this book. This book is probably not for the person who is content to wear the latest Britney Spears scent but for someone who is a lot more adventurous. I would recommend also "The Emperor of Scent - A True Story of Perfume and Obsession" about scientist Luca Turin and "The Perfect Scent - A Year Inside the Perfume Industry" a great story about how a perfume is actually created, both by Chandler Burr (no, I do not know him). It would have been a very nice touch to see photos/illustrations of
the perfume bottles, but still, a great book. Enjoy!