As many sensual perfumes as you can

Perfume Shrine has long worshipped at the altar of poet C.P.Cavafy. Sometimes it is just as well that he includes fragrant references in his unique poetry.
Today I present you "Ithaca", perhaps his most famous didactic poem, recited by Sir Sean Connery with music by Vangelis and images from the film Baraka. Originally uploaded by babylonianman.

ITHACA
As you set out for Ithaca
hope that your journey is a long one,
full of adventure, full of discovery.
Laistrygonians and Cyclops,
angry Poseidon-don't be afraid of them:
you'll never find things like that on your way
as long as you keep your thoughts raised high,
as long as a rare sensasion
touches your spirit and your body.
Laistrygonians and Cyclops,
wild Poseidon-you won't encounter them
unless you bring them along inside your soul,
unless your soul sets them up in front of you.

Hope that your journey is a long one.
May there be many summer mornings when,
with what pleasure, what joy,
you come into harbors you're seeing for the first time;
may you stop at Phoenician trading stations
to buy fine things,
mother of pearl and coral, amber and ebony,
sensual perfume of every kind-
as many sensual perfumes as you can;
and may you visit many Egyptian cities
to learn and learn again from those who know.

Keep Ithaka always in your mind.
Arriving there is what you're destined for.
But don't hurry the journey at all.
Better if it lasts for years,
so that you're old by the time you reach the island,
wealthy with all you've gained on the way,
not expecting Ithaca to make you rich.

Ithaca gave you the marvelous journey.
Without her you would have not set out.
She has nothing left to give you now.
And if you find her poor, Ithaca won't have fooled you.
Wise as you will have become, so full of experience,
you'll have understood by then what these Ithacas mean.

And an announcement:
October will be devoted to chypres. Stay tuned for in depth analysis of their aesthetics and for reviews.

The bittersweet smell of laurels: 300 Spartans

Today I chose to include an adored poem that really depicts best of all just what the sacrifice of those tragic and noble 300 Spartans really meant. In an age when anyone can interpret facts any way one wants and present them for the sheer monetary gain at the box office, let's pause for a second and think how some things in life do mean much more and how not everything is for glory but sometimes it's for honour.
There is a difference.

The ancient epigram/epitaph by Simonedes, friend of Megistias (the Acarnanian seer, who foretold the death of Leonidas and his warriors) is immortal.
It went like this:
"Stranger passing by, go tell the spartans that here, obedient to their laws, we lie."

The poem I chose is much more recent, it doesn't pertain to the olfactory, yet it does evoke the bittersweet smell of laurels. The laurels of noble defeat...
Written by my favourite poet Constantine Cavafy, whom I have also reference while talking about Mitsouko.
It's called "Thermopylae" and is inspired by the famous battle as a lesson in life in general.
I leave you to enjoy it by yourselves.

Thermopylae

Honour to those who in life they lead
define and guard Thermopylae.
Never betraying what is right,
consistent and just in all they do,
but showing pity also, and compassion;
generous when they're rich; and when they're poor,
still generous in small ways,
still helping as much as they can;
always speaking the truth,
yet without hating those who lie.

And even more honour is due to them
when they foresee (as many do foresee)
that Ephialtes will turn up in the end,
that the Medes* will break through after all.

1903 by Constantine P. Cavafy (Kavafis)

*Medes (plural of Mede) is another name for Persians en masse (historically they were an older tribe who intermingled and interbred with the Persians)



Pic of classical statue of mid4th century BC courtesy of greeklandscapes.com.
Painting of Leonidas at Thermopylae by Jacques Louis David courtesy of wikipedia.

Rainy weather: Mitsouko time

What can one possibly say about this iconic perfume? What can one add to the tome upon tome of literature on the subject?

Everything has been analyzed over and over : how it was inspired by a literary Japanese heroine in 1919; how the bottle was the same as the one for L’heure bleue; how the aldehyde C14 in there replicates peach skin; how it is a scent implicated in sex under a different perspective than the one in the West; how it is mixed in tragedy, greatness and cinematic art; how the name doesn’t mean what Guerlain has been telling us after all…(you can see all that on my Mitsouko entry on my personal site Perfume Shrine, section "Perfume in literature and film", linked in index)

Sometimes great works of art ultimately lose if one describes them too extensively. They lose their mystique, their spirituality, their rapport with the hidden forces that make them so compelling in the first place.
So we won’t dissect Mitsouko here. We simply won’t. Just because.
We’ll just let ourselves feel the yearning and sense of loss it evokes and slowly whisper my favourite poem. (I'd like it to be on my tombstone)

The god forsakes Antony

When suddenly, at midnight, you hear
an invisible procession going by
with exquisite music, voices,
don’t mourn your luck that’s failing now,
work gone wrong, your plans
all proving deceptive—don’t mourn them
uselessly.
As one long prepared, and graced with courage,
say goodbye to
her, the Alexandria that is leaving.

Above all, don’t fool yourself, don’t say
it was a dream, your ears
deceived you:
don’t degrade yourself with empty hopes like these.
As one
long prepared, and graced with courage,
as is right for you who were given
this kind of city,
go firmly to the window
and listen with deep emotion,
but not
with the whining, the pleas of a coward;
listen—your final
delectation—to the voices,
to the exquisite music of that strange
procession,
and say goodbye to her, to the Alexandria you are losing.

- by Constantine P. Cavafy (1911)

Translated from greek to english by Edmund Keeley and Philip Sherrard

Note for understanding the context: The poem refers to Plutarch's story that when Marc Antony was besieged in Alexandria by Octavian the night before the city fell into enemy hands, he heard an invisible troupe leaving the city. He heard the sounds of instruments and voices making their way through the city. Then, he passed out; the god Bacchus (Dionysus), Antony's protector, was deserting him.

If you want to read Constantinos Cavafy's poetry, click here. Plutarch's Parallel lives link here

Mitsouko entry on Perfume in literature and film: here