Most people can only dream of having a perfume made just for themselves. Celia Lyttelton saw that dream turn into reality when she approached Anastasia Brozler, the founder of London-based Creative Perfumers, and asked her to develop a unique, personalized fragrance. Brozler is a former head of perfume marketing at Estée Lauder and L'Oreál in Europe, and was a sales director at Crown Perfumery before she opened her own company in 1999. She helped Lyttelton in selecting the ingredients, and then assigned the project to perfumer Norbert Bijaoui, who took care of the actual composition. Meanwhile, Lyttelton embarked on a trip around the world to learn more about the materials of her choice. Together with her husband Stephen and their young son Tarquin, she followed the trail of her bespoke perfume on a long journey to France, Morocco, Turkey, Italy, Sri Lanka, India, and Yemen. This book is her travel diary.
Much like Jean-Paul Guerlain's Les Routes de mes parfums (2002), Lyttelton guides us through these countries to explore the art and craft of perfumery. Each chapter features one or two ingredients, and leads to a different region. The "perfect perfume" we're dealing with has notes of neroli, petitgrain, nutmeg and ambergris in the top, mimosa, damask rose, iris, and jasmine in the heart, and vetiver, frankincense, and myrrh in the base; these notes represent the beacons of her voyage. Among her mentors are famous people like Frédéric Malle, Serge Lutens, and Lorenzo Villoresi, industry insiders like Robertet's director Henri-Joseph Roca, and a host of other colorful characters.
Although Lyttelton's expedition is by all accounts extraordinary, she made sure to record the more mundane events in her life as well. The result is a type of "ego document" that may not be to everyone's liking. Personally, I quite like the idea of mixing "detached" facts with personal anecdotes, as long as there's a connection between them. Going back to Tuscany, for instance, was not just an opportunity for the author to learn more about Florentine iris; being the region where she grew up, it triggered many intimate memories from her childhood, and revealed meaningful details about herself. By contrast, I couldn't figure out what to make of her journey through India, where she hitched a ride on the back of an Enfield, and almost got mugged at a marketplace. What kept the diary appealing in those cases, were the frequent references to raw materials and perfumes. Jo Malone, Diptyque, and Serge Lutens are some of the author's favorite houses.
A serious problem with this book is that it contains too many factual errors and inaccuracies. Some are downright silly, like the comment that "Marcel Proust's favourite scent was Jean Patou's Vacances" (p.19). Proust died in 1922, Patou started creating perfumes in 1925, and Vacances was launched in 1936; it takes about half a minute to find that out. Similarly, Guerlain Jicky was not "the first scent to combine natural and synthetic materials" (p.9); that honour goes to Houbigant's Fougère Royale. And it gets worse if we look at some of the names that appear incorrectly in the book: IFF apparently stands for International Flowers and Fragrances, and Coty's Chypre is referred to as 'Cyprus' (with poor François being subjected to a sex change on p. 294). Laura Tonatto sees her last name changed into Tonnato (like the famous Italian dish), and a similar mishap occurs with the author's very own perfumer. Granted, she didn't get to meet him in person (allegedly because he was "too shy") and Bijaoui is a difficult name, but it doesn't leave a very good impression. The glossary in the back is best avoided, too.
Lyttelton doesn't hide the fact that she is a novice in the field, but the lay reader won't always be able to spot her mistakes, and risks being misguided in some areas. Well-informed fragrance enthusiasts, on the other hand, may find themselves disappointed by the author's unfamiliarity with the perfume industry. For instance, she had the fortune of being introduced to the notoriously reclusive Serge Lutens on her visit to Marrakech; yet their encounter didn't add much to what is generally known about his work or personality.
My copy of The Scent Trail was published by New American Library in 2007, and has the light blue cover pictured here. As much as I hate to mention this, I came across many spelling errors (I'm thinking of words like 'distillation' and 'distilleries', which are consistently written with three l's in the first half of the book) which could have easily been avoided. Not only do they become tiresome after a while, but they add to the silly mistakes mentioned earlier, and take away part of the enjoyment this book has to offer. All in all, The Scent Trail is likely to appeal to fans of travel books, and to perfumistas with a forgiving temperament.
Celia Lyttelton is an independent writer and editor based in London. She wrote two specialist books on design: The Now Art Book (1996) and Floating Worlds (2001).
The Scent Trail: How One Woman's Quest for the Perfect Perfume Took Her Around the World
New York: New American Library (2007)
Soft cover, 320 pages
Cover price: 15 USD
Thanks for your solid review, Marcello.
In fact, I just finished reading this book and have comments similar to yours. Did you notice that she called Une Fleur de Cassie, Fleur de Cassis and indicated that it is a blackcurrant fragrance? This after she claimed to have tested it? I was not impressed.
Other little mistakes, like stating that only two fragrances on the market contain saffron and not even mentioning Safran Troublant, ticked me off, too. I wondered if the other “facts” she stated in the book were accurate or not.
Her bespoke perfume sounds lovely, but all-in-all, the book was a disappointment.
Yes, some of the mistakes are really, really bad. I think that the concept behind the book – get yourself a bespoke scent, and then go around the world to learn more about it – is in itself very interesting, but the author clearly underestimated the amount of preparation it takes to do it well.
“Although Lyttelton’s expedition is by all accounts extraordinary, she made sure to record the more mundane events in her life as well.” Thank you! I could not make myself go on beyond the first couple of chapters, I guess I don’t have a forgiving temperament 🙂 Frederic Malle did not look like perfumer. Um…there might be a reason for that, but how does a perfumer look? Une Fleur de Cassis is made of blackcurrant? And Malle commissioned Edmond Roudnitska to make Le Parfum de Thérèse for him? Really? 🙂 I could go on. This is just the 1st Chapter.
I still wonder what audience Ms. Lyttelton had in mind. I’m sure there are some perfumistas out there who will enjoy the book, despite all this. And hey, perhaps it will inspire someone else to do it better!
Hmmm, it sounds like this book is to be read along with a huge grain of salt. I will look for it in the library rather than Border’s. Thanks for the review…all of you.
If all this hasn’t put you off… then yes, the library would be a good place to start.
Marcello, I’ve had this on my “to read” list forever, glad you reviewed it before I got around to reading it. Do you know why there are 2 different covers? I thought one must be a US version, but no, Amazon in the UK shows both versions.
the one with the yellow cover was published Bantam Press (an imprint of Transworld Publishers, the British division of Random House). The blue one came later, and was published by New American Library (which is a division of Penguin Group USA). So the latter is indeed the US version. They have slightly different cover titles too, but I assume they’re exactly the same inside. Don’t know why Amazon.co.uk shows them both.
Interesting…I thought the blue one must be an earlier version. Thanks Marcello!
I must admit, part of me cringes at the thought of typos and blatant factual errors. The choice of narrative style is personal/cultural/contextual etc., but I’m not entranced by what I’m hearing from you, Violetnoir & Marina.
Could have been an interesting concept/execution; too bad. And yet…it’s not like I don’t have plenty else on the “to read” shelf. 😉
lol — move on to the next one, and enjoy!
I bought this book months ago (blue cover) and haven’t gotten past the first several chapters. Even with my limited knowledge, I noticed quite a few errors in the little that I have read. Somehow I haven’t been able to get into it. I also have Luca Turin and Tania Sanchez “Perfume Guide” and even though I don’t always agree, I find myself continually referring to it.
I was fascinated by the name “Anastasia Brozler”, so I was determined to read on. 🙂
I am in the middle of reading this book right now, and the errors did disturb me too. I also don’t care too much for the writing style. I’m glad I only paid $9 at Costco for it. It’s probably okay if you’re not an experienced perfumista.
9 $ sounds fair. The price of a decent toothbrush holder.
Oh! I forgot to say that it’s nice to have a book reviewer posting… 🙂
Thanks!
My comment is VERY cranky, but the thoughts that leap to mind first are: “Oh, how nice that she is so rich that not only can she afford a bespoke perfume and a long trip around the world to see all these perfume sites, but she also has enough connections to have her poorly-edited, poorly-researched book published.”
Excuse my bitterness.
I confess that this was my first thought too, but when I read the book I realized that she’s not that rich. Traveling was something she did with her mother from an early age, so it must be in her blood. She’s a freelance writer who had the audacity to set up a big project like this (which means: putting other things aside), and the astuteness to get things done. She had done some writing before, which helps when you send your manuscript to a publisher.
Thanks for clarifying, Marcello. That makes me feel a bit better — and I do admit that travel narrative is one of my favorite genres, so combining this with perfumery definitely makes the concept of this book sound very interesting to me. I may just pick it up at the library.
Marcello,
I read the UK edition of this a while ago and there were m=none of the typing errors that you talk of. In fact, this was the first book that set me on the course to become the perfumaholic that I have become…
Someone also told me that Celia has started or is about to start blogging (although I cannot for the life of me find her).
Alexander
Good to hear that the editing was better in the UK version, Alexander. And didn’t know about Ms. Lyttelton’s blogging plans.
Hi, I’m new to the blog, but have read it for a long time now with much enjoyment.
I read this book quite a while ago, probably about 6 months or so, and thus can’t really recall typos and such blindingly obvious errors, and I’m sure it was the UK edition I read. One thing that did stand out to me though is how she continually referred to Ormonde Jayne as Jayne Ormonde. I must admit, the first time I encountered this perfumery, I initially wondered if the name was swopped around incorrectly, as to the uninitiated it would seem logical to have Jayne coming first – this suggests to me that possibly Cecilia is not quite as knowledgeable about perfume as some amateurs/perfumistas. Having said that, I can’t recall her ever holding herself out to be an expert and I thought the overall concept of her book was unique and quite enjoyable.
Michael, I think you’re quite right in that she never claimed to be an expert on the subject. But imagine what a difference it would have made, if all the facts she presented were accurate! I agree that the concept of this book is very appealing.
Thanks for the welcome Marcello. I agree, the writing was a bit sloppy in places and I think she could have done a bit more careful research to ensure her facts were correct. Whether you are a perfume expert or not, that is no excuse for not doing background research properly. I’m no editorial expert, but I’m surprised that no one did any cross checking (well, perhaps they did) before the book was published?
oh and btw, welcome Michael! Thanks for your comment.
As a classicist, I can’t get past the fact that she named her son Tarquin. Sure, I’ll assume she means Priscus and not Superbus, but the associations are *not good* (rape and murder, mostly rape).
lol — good point! In fact, she describes how people in Rome reacted to that name. They were not exactly pleased.
Glad you spoke up about the text’s sloppiness, Marcello. Just leafed through my gold-covered copy of TST and see that by page 57 I had scrawled across the page: “THIS BOOK NEEDS SERIOUS EDITING.”
I’m being trivial, but have to ask: Does the blue-covered book include a photo of Celia wearing a furry collar, bad haircut, and sour expression?
eerrmm… the answer to that is: no. 🙂
ScentScelf put it best I think, too many other books on the must-read list.
Yes, there will never a shortage of good books in the world…
Lyttleton is a British travel writer, whose work has appeared with some regularity in major magazines. I can only guess that she sold the book as a travelogue, and that those involved knew as little about the perfume world as she did. (On the subject of her finances, I would also guess that she was selling articles as she went and that many of her trips were paid for, at least in part.) Really, I felt embarrassed for her many mistakes, but also irritated at yet more perfume mis-information. Claiming novice status is one thing, sloppy reporting (which is what many of her mistakes boil down to) is another altogether.
All that aside, I was disappointed in the emotional, personal side of the book as well. Perhaps unlike you, Marcello, I didn’t think the book was self-revealing enough. The way the book is set up suggests there is some kind of personal quest involved, yet we–or at least I–never really learn what it is, how she feels, what this all means. Yes, she mentions her family, her childhood, but those sections are oddly flat. I sometimes felt as though I were reading an encyclopedia article–lots of historical facts, very little personal interpretation. And then, given the mistakes on the perfume side of things, I began to wonder about all those facts.
Can you tell I read the whole thing, but in an increasing state of irritation? 😉
“Travelogue” describes it pretty well. And I suppose that calling it an “ego document” was a bit of a stretch indeed…
Hello. I realize I’m a little late for the party, but I just had to say I enjoyed what you wrote in this blog entry on Celia Lyttelton’s book. A year ago, I stumbled upon The Scent Trail by accident in a public library while researching an entirely different topic. I thought it looked fascinating, so I decided to read her book on a whim. I had never thought about the origin of perfume until that time. So reading the book opened a whole new world for me. I didn’t know of any factual errors, I suppose I was more enthralled about the “romantic” aspects of travel to foreign lands I will never see. At any rate, Ms. Lyttelton’s book has inspired me to dig deeper, read more and learn more about the art and history of perfumery, particularly as it applies to religion and spirituality. Mind, I’m nowhere near being an expert, but it is my goal to at least be an intelligent hobbyist . Perhaps I’ll learn even more as I explore this blog? I think so! 🙂
We hope you’ll stick around then 🙂