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In Chapter 15, Gamache wakes up a sleeping Olivier to question him about a guest at the Inn. “What I wouldn’t give to spend just five minutes in his head,” Olivier says about Gabri, who sleeps through the interaction. “I think it must smell of fresh baking in there.” Gamache thinks about how the inside of Reine-Marie’s head would smell like roses, Jean-Guy’s of bacon, Clara’s of oil paints and overripe banana. What do you think the inside of Gamache’s head would smell like? What about yours?
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Gamache’s would smell like sandlewood.
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Yes, agree with you here too. I wonder if anyone will come up with anything else though? Sandalwood has been mentioned so many times!
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Gamache said he’d smell like lemon meringue pie and damp dog and I like that. But I think he would smell like chocolate chip cookies because he is constantly eating them from his hidden stash. 😀
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For me I will go with pine needles because when I think of Gamache I think of three pines.
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The inside of Gamache’s head would smell of the scent of old garden rose with undertones of damp dog, pine and the occasional whiff of a pleasant experience or lemon meringue pie. Although no scent, there would be the occasional sparkle of fireflies dancing.
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I think the inside of Gamache’s head would smell like sandalwood and lemon. Be it lemon meringue pie or pink lemonade.
But if I could be inside someone’s head I would like being able to experience the world as they do. Get a glimpse of how life feels to them. Understand why they respond to experiences the way they do. I would love to see the world from my cat’s point of view. To know how she thinks – is it in pictures or cat words or does she really understand my language?
And if I could glimpse inside someone’s head like the students I taught it would have helped me solve their learning issues so much faster and easier. What a miracle that would have been.-
What an amazing teacher you must’ve been. Your students were very lucky.
Oh, and as for the question. I would’ve guessed sandalwood too. As for mine, I guess it smell like whatever I’m breathing in all day. I’ll refer everyone back to my dog tax post for full details: https://www.bookclubfriends.com/2024/11/24/susan-walker-9/
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When I read this question I went back to TGW and where it fit. It seemed to me that all of the examples, for Gabri, Clara, Myrna, Olivier, Billy Williams and Ruth capture different aspects of the person, their work, their quirks, the people they loved and so on. For Armand, definitely sandalwood, lemon and wet dog. But also a crisp white shirt and a freshly poured Scotch. I hope there are a lot more because he is such a multi-dimensional person for me.
As for mine, roasting chile, burning pinon, the smell of approaching rain and the undefinable presence of my family.
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I agree with all the above but I also think there would be an ashy burning smell for all of those dark times he experienced.
The inside of my head might smell like savory herbs.
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That’s an interesting thought. I don’t think Armand would define himself by the dark times he has experienced, but you’re absolutely right — the taint of them may indeed be clinging to him!
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I think the smell of wet dogs plus a touch of Gracie, sandalwood, fresh pine trees and rose from Reine Marie. And my head? Right now, my coffee, the saltwater ocean spray and the forest with a light breeze after the rain.
Does anyone wonder why this question was asked? It feels like a question like the one re: Open Da Night, where my first reaction was to look up places in the books, like answers for a school test, but then with that discussion, the comments from this wonderful group took a turn and we discovered some new insights.
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Definitely encourages the greatest possible range of views for discussion!
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We’re always so impressed at how questions provoke such thoughtful answers here, both in these forums and also in our Home page feed, and how the conversations seem to turn and provide further insight into the books, the writing, human nature or other interesting topics.
Most of the questions for our discussion on The Grey Wolf were provided by the publisher. Some questions were created by us. This and the “Open Da Night” question were from the publisher. We could guess that Louise had a hand in generating the questions, as many authors do.
And we understand what you mean with this question and with the “Open Da Night” question. We could possibly add to this question:
Do smells evoke memories for you? Can you think of other examples in Louise’s books when she uses the sense of smell in the story? Why do you think she does this?
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Interesting! Smells can bring back positive and negative memories or feelings. The smell of saltwater makes me feel relaxed. The fragrance of trees flowering in spring bring joy. The aroma of freshly ground coffee give me the sense of peace I get when sipping my coffee in the quiet of the morning. Hospital smells bring some anxiety and sad memories.
As for previous examples of Louise using this technique, I have a terrible memory so I can’t recall anything at the moment.
I wonder if this question brings our attention to a similar thread that we’ve visited before with familiarity, comfort and emotional safety?
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I agree with you Katherine about the similar thread with familiarity, comfort and safety. I know there was a discussion on the FB site about our senses and the feelings and memories that are evoked by them. Louise is a master writer when it comes to developing these feelings. That’s one of the things I love about her writing. Now there’s a brain I’d love to spend some time in.
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I don’t think the sense of smell invokes as much memory for me personally as music does.
I do think Louise uses smells in defining her characters such as Gamache (Sandel wood) and Reine-Marie (Rose). Often throughout her books she blends their scents together to help the reader understand/feel the depth of their relationship with each other. She uses the smell of open fires and food to help describe the ambience of the Bistro or someone’s home. This helps us feel the warmth, comfort, and feeling of belonging one gets when in that setting. And of course as many have mentioned she always talks about wet dogs.-
Yes, well said, Libby. She involves all the senses in her writing and I think that maybe it is just one more way she makes her characters more authentic. Maybe this is why we care about our Three Pines friends so much.
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For me, the smell of food cooking is a comforting thing, but it is the taste of dark chocolate and ice cream that are particularly enjoyable.
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I’m right there with you about the dark chocolate Nancy. I love my with raspberry filling – yum!!!
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We experience life through our senses, and if a writer can describe what someone is feeling, smelling, tasting, hearing, as well as seeing, we as readers can relate to what’s being said and happening with so much more depth, and emotionally experience what’s happening rather than just observe. I think that LP is so very good at evoking a scene through these tools, and it puts me, as a reader, right into the scene with those characters, and makes them come to life, so to speak. Now that said, unfortunately, what came to mind when discussing other incidences of scents mentioned in the book, I thought of poor Henri and the “complements” he gifted everyone in Armand’s car and in the elevator in How the Light Gets In! I must admit, it did evoke a sympathetic, visceral response in me!
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Susan, excellent example. Not all smells are necessarily welcome.
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So true– and yet, they can still provoke strong emotional responses! And in thinking further, LP chose to put those comic scenes at a place in the book that was fraught with tension — JG and Armand meeting for the first time since their fracture, with Isabelle being witness to it. It was a deft way to balance that scene, mixing humor with heartbreak, enhancing and making it a very human experience.
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Absolutely. That elevator scene was another that I remember so clearly for what it told us about the people involved. There is very little of “How the Light Gets In” that I have lost track of. I know I was grateful after reading “The Beautiful Mystery” that I could go straight to the next book because I was so unsettled by the ending.
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I felt the same. HTLGI is probably my favorite of all the books (although that’s a bit like saying which child you love best, I imagine) not only, or even mostly, because it was such a well-written, nail-biting thriller with an interesting couple of murders deftly woven in, but because of the emotional stakes at play. It was beautifully written, excruciating at times to read, but so emotionally satisfying in the end!
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I have had to give this one quite a bit of thought. I think inside his head is kindness and love of humanity and I wanted to think of a scent that would represent that so I came up with a baby and the baby powder smell. Weird I know but to me that represents love and potential and joy. That is all inside of my Gamache’s head.
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Thought provoking additions here!
Both smells and music evoke memories for me; thanks for that reminder Libby. Mine also include saltwater, coffee, recently mowed lawn or burning leaves and the smell that accompanies imminent rain in the desert in addition to the originally mentioned ones. Just about any music from the 60s and 70s will work for me. My recent favorite is James Taylor “Carolina in My Mind.”
One of the most poignant references to smells that I recall is when Jean-Guy tells Armand he is leaving the Surete and, most importantly, moving the family to Paris. Armand hold Honore, “inhaling, the scent that was uniquely Honore.” This scene so clearly captures Armand’s bond with Honore and his grief at the coming separation. I think this is part of what Nancy references about the smell of a baby.
I’m sure LP has reasons for including smells but they create a sense of immediacy for me, more of a sense of being there.
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This has turned into a very interesting question — so many great responses! I have to agree: in Armand’s head, there has to be some sandalwood, rose, lemon, pine, and wet dog; and that reference to Honore’s scent, Jane, is great — I loved that scene, and what it meant. That profound love for his family, his grandchildren— that’s got to be part of Armand’s very core. I would add to him a whiff of black licorice, and a hint of old books, as well.
As for myself, there would have to be coffee and chocolate inside my head, as Katherine, Nancy, and Libby have mentioned; I would also have the scent of spring flowers, like hyacinth, lilac, peonies, which always bring me joy; and the smell of homemade fresh bread baking, like my mother used to make.
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Gamache certainly has such a wide range of thoughts and emotions that I agree with everyone’s picks (baby Honore is my favorite). If I were to narrow it down to what his head would smell like just according to just The Grey Wolf, then I would go with a whiff of perspiration (such a stressful case!), coffee, pain au chocolat, sweet peas and clematis, and autumn leaves. And yes, smells definitely bring up memories for me, and often unexpectedly. I love the smell of cedar wood crackling in a fireplace, a big pot of pasta sauce, and the scent of the air after a rain storm. They all bring up lovely memories. I think scents and smells trigger vivid memories and associations very quickly, so I think LP does it on purpose to “paint a picture” in our minds.
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