I really enjoyed, despite the fact that I loathe almost all perfumes.
The descriptions of the scents are just so over the top, it is very funny.
I find it nearly impossible to belive that no one was willing to read the paper. The author indicates that some of the scientists compared Turin to a creationist, clinging to his outrageous theory; but evolutionists are always willing to go head to head and point by point in defense of evolution, shapists, not so much ( )

The Emperor of Scent was the first big surprise of my reading year, and a good reminder not to judge books by their covers. It sat on my TBR shelf for years, always looking like something that was kind of lackluster but ultimately informative. Perfume? Who cares. And the science of smell? Boring, sure to have all this intense neurobiology stuff, eych. Why my dad thought to pass it on to me was a mystery but one does not say no to free books in this household. 😅

But then, last week, I was in the mood for something informative and serious to balance out rom-coms and fantasies and this was the only thing on hand that looked like it would fit the bill (or at least, the most interesting of the options). Turns out, my dad knows my taste and Chandler Burr can write.

This is, at the core, a character study of a scientist, Luca Turin. He’s brilliant, a bit of a mad scientist, an information sponge, an out-of-the-box thinker, focused but also all over the place, pithy, irascible, collects perfumes as a hobby. It’s also about chance and coincidence and creativity; about the scientific process and close-mindedness and ego; and about a theory of smell that relies on physics and counters the established knowledge.

And the writing? Burr matches Turin’s tone and manner with an equal vim and his prose is full of pell-mell sentences, pithy turns of phrase, and fascination. He’s aware he’s telling a story and he’s going to tell it right. (You know those long-form journalism pieces that take a deep dive into something really weird, or those Tumblr textposts about the zaniness of everyday life? That’s the vibe.)

There is chemistry and biology and physics, right down to formulas and illustrations and long molecular names. Burr makes sure to explain the basics and work up—what is a molecule? how does quantum mechanics work?—so that when the complicated stuff shows up, the reader can follow it, but he never goes further into detail than needed. It’s enough to say that a certain chemical exists or a certain machine does a thing. He does the same thing with the perfume industry and whatever other tangents the story goes on.

In short, I really enjoyed reading this. The story was a ride, the writing was great, I learned a bunch, and of the two books I was reading, this was the one I was most eager to get back to. I’m invested in Turin’s theory and there’s so much more to chemistry than I imagined. (Molecules are wild and the people who study them, possibly wilder.) The book is almost 20 years old though, so the science might be outdated now, I don’t know, but also, I don’t really care because I had so much fun reading this. ( )

This the story of a polymath scientist who connected his knowledge of biology, chemistry and physics, his appreciation for scent, and expressive writing skills. The result, driven by innate curiosity, was an updated theory about humans smell. Chandler's writing is clear and enjoyable, as are the masterful excerpts by the scientist turned perfume guide author. The prose is excellent and the story captivating, but more than anything, what it conveys is a disappointing mindset of established scientists. Luca Turin's vibration theory of smell is controversial. New theories are. It's disappointing that so many scientists held onto their own established thinking rather than even being open to contrary possibilities. For some, a lifetime invested in one paradigm makes it a religion rather than science. Fortunately, science rests on reality and the scientific method on a logical process. Many of the leading scientists mentioned in this book let their profession down, but the story itself gives hope. ( )

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.

( )

Okay, wow. I absolutely loved this book. It had a little something for every part of me that wants something different in a book: there was science, real honest-to-God science, for the snobby intellectual , there was scandal and affrontery for the secret scandalmonger, there was talk of perfumery and the haute couture houses for the girly fashionista, there was exploration of research, development, and business decisions for the pragmatist, there was skewering of the peer-review process for the academician, and there was even a delightfully described trip to India for the travel-lover. And of course, the ever-successful frame of finding oneself rooting for the underdog is all throughout.

I'm kindof in love with this book, in short. It was interesting for so many different reaons; I learned a TON, and really enjoyed myself doing it. There are serious things to think about afterwards, but also fun little factoids to tuck away for future reference... and I personally was also left with an urge to seek out some particularly lauded perfumes and smell them for myself. :)

One of my favorite random passages, describing the demands made of the chemists and perfume designers: "'We want the smell of old melting candles in ballrooms of Italian marble during a Chinese winter,' 'Give us the fragrance surrendered by a young blue flower crushed under the heated, ivory back of a woman with chocolate eyes,' 'We must have the scent lightning makes the instant it strikes a platinum rose.'" ( )