There is a story in our family about my first grade parent-teacher interview. The excellent, jolly woman who taught my class reported I was doing well, but confessed to my mother that she experienced considerable anxiety when introducing what she called “controversial topics”. Mom, a teacher herself, did not ask which first grade topics these could possibly be, and she did not encourage the woman to elaborate. She was already familiar with what my brothers later named “the squinty face”. She knew well my favorite phrase: “Now, wait a minute…” (No doubt this was preferable to a tic I developed later: “You mean to tell me…?!”) Most importantly, both my parents had learned to avoid being drawn into discussions on, say, the vagaries of English spelling, the habits and duties of Santa Claus, or the basic road safety rules a young lady of six might be expected to follow. For years, I described myself as a contrarian. Now Christopher Hitchens has tried to make it hip to be a young contrarian, and I’ve decided to start taking popular, rather non-committal stances on current issues. It’s hard to get rid of the squinting, though.
Old habits die hard, then, and in the interests of both truth and disagreeing with people, I have found myself defending Perfumes: The Guide on points of accuracy and style in various online forums. Still, this sentence from Luca Turin’s review of Caldey Island Lavender gives me pause: “Lavender is summer wind made smell, and the best lavender compositions are, in my opinion, the ones from which other elements are absent, and only endlessly blue daylight air remains.” Well, despite having never sampled the Caldey Island Lavender, I must disagree. (I have found that to properly enter into the spirit of arguing, you must be prepared to dispense right away with proper research.) Leaving aside the blue air — surely wind can’t be blue? And air is merely stationary wind? — I fail to see how Guerlain Jicky would fit into his best lavenders category. And any best lavenders category that excludes Jicky cuts no mustard with me. Let us discuss a list of other surpassingly wonderful complex lavenders, just to be difficult…
