My long absence from the book reviewing community, both on here and on YouTube, can be blamed in large part to my burgeoning interest in perfume, which started about two years ago and has only become more serious. (Well, there’s work, too, but I figured I’d blame-shift to something that sounds mildly interesting.) The author, Mandy Aftel, is one of the great purveyors of independent perfumery in the United States. She currently operates a highly successful company called Aftelier Perfumes (a play on the word “atelier”) that sells perfumes and other scent-related products.
When you ask around in Facebook fragrance-related groups for other people who make their own scents, as I plan to start doing quite soon, this is always the first book that everyone recommends. People simply rave about it. If there’s anywhere you want to start, they say, it’s with “Essence & Alchemy.” So, in full preparation for learning as much as I could before I began ordering essential oils, concretes, and other ingredients used in perfumery, I hurriedly ordered the book from Amazon.
However, I was pretty disappointed by what this book had to offer. It’s not wholly useless for the complete neophyte, which I totally am: there’s good information about what kinds of notes mix best with others, and what kinds of oils serve as “top notes” (ones that you smell first), heart notes (ones that you smell for most of the duration of the scent), and base notes (the scent as it begins to finally die away on your skin). I had a lot of questions. Can sandalwood be a heart note? Is there anything I can do to extend the life of citrus notes? What kind of rose is better, Egyptian or Bulgarian? This was really valuable information, and I’m glad I found some answers at a reasonable price. (You’d be amazed at how expensive some of the technical books on perfumery can be.)
However, much of the book concerns, rather unfortunately, the “alchemy” of the title. I suppose that might have been a hint that it would have been a little, how shall I put it – new agey and kooky? – for my tastes. Much of the first half of the book – the part that focuses on the “alchemy” of fragrance – is interlarded with block quotes, like the following one from French philosophy Henri Bergson: “These memories [olfactory sensations], messengers from the unconscious, remind us what we are dragging behind us unawares. But, even though we may have no distinct idea of it, we feel vaguely that our past remains present to us … Doubtless we think with only a small part of our past, but it with our entire past, the original bent of our soul, that we desire, will, and act. Our past, then, as a whole, is made manifest to us in its impulse; it is felt in the form of tendency, although a small part of it is known in the form of idea.” Other similar quotes from people like Carl Jung abound.
Don’t get me wrong. I love reading Jung, and even Bergson. Look at the history of what I’ve reviewed: it’s full of obscure philosophy that only the unrepentant nerd would even deign to touch. What I enjoy reading less is how a perfumer who seems to be perhaps a bit too in love with her own craft, mixes in texts on alchemy and philosophy so create a sort of salmagundi of voodoo that is only occasionally graced with the useful information other people promise it has.
For someone genuinely interested in taking their first steps into creating their own fragrances, only chapters 3-6 are necessary. There’s also a very helpful index at the back that gives a list of the most important oils that Aftel says are indispensable and every perfume should have, along with a curated list of online shops where you can purchase said materials. If you’re interested, there’s also a short chapter about mixing bath salts (no, not the fun kind that make you eat people’s faces off). All in all, not a total loss, but I was sad not to have found more useful information here.
Bravely onward to Steffen Arctander’s “Perfume and Flavor Materials of Natural Origin”!