Thursday, January 31, 2013
Smell of a Person
My great-grandparents lived in Cleveland until my great-grandpa died. Their house (and inevitably them) had such a distinct smell to it. As soon as we arrived and hugged and kissed my grandma, you could smell it on her. Smells of fresh strudel and warm bread wafted through the house, but a pungent reek of mothballs rivaled for control of the air. There were open boxes of them in almost every room, just leaking their synthetic camphor scent into the house. Perhaps my great-grandma lived through a now-forgotten tragedy of history, the great pestilence, when clouds of carpet moths drifted over the Tatra Mountains and laid waste to the once-famous wardrobes of Slovakia, leaving behind nothing but scanty remains of clothing. Of course this only exacerbated what I'm sure my great-great-grandparents considered the real plague on the nation: the teenagers' sluttiness of dress, pale ankles showing and babushka pushed back to reveal a dangerous amount of forehead.
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Camphor is a new scent description for me, thanks for the word.
ReplyDeleteThought your sentence about the plague was really funny. Maybe you should have said "would have exacerbated" because (i think) we're still in the theoretical. Just to clarify, it's somewhat confusing that you said "kissed your grandma" when referring to your great-grandma, unless you were actually shifting to talking about the smell of the tenants' adult daughter.
My mistake, I meant great-grandma. I only wrote it that way because that's what we refer to her as. As to the hypothetical part of the post, I'm going to stick with my current phrasing because I believe delving into the situation as if it actually happened lends itself to humor better.
ReplyDelete"Of course this only exacerbated what I'm sure my great-great-grandparents considered the real plague on the nation: the teenagers' sluttiness of dress, pale ankles showing and babushka pushed back to reveal a dangerous amount of forehead." I really dig this. I think it shows the personality of our generation as well as theirs and it contrasts the eras. I mean we see what people wear today and think about how right after the Victorian era (nineteen teens) -which i imagine is your reference here-- people began to show ankle it it was just a shock to the older generation. I like this contrast.
ReplyDeleteMary,
DeleteVictorian Era: 1837-1901. If I may be a pretentious person while realizing it, I think you mean the Georgian era!
Ha.
I like your point though. And TC's line is funny.
I absolutely love how you described the scent of your great-grandparents and their home: "Smells of fresh strudel and warm bread wafted through the house, but a pungent reek of mothballs rivaled for control of the air." It's like I can almost smell the words because they fit together so perfectly. Also, it's interesting that you contemplate the history of the mothball scent, since scent is linked to memory. History is sort of like a giant, collective memory, and the fact that a scent prompts you to think about the past is pretty ironic.
ReplyDeleteAnd now I just really want strudel. Preferable apple.
My great-grandma made the best apple strudel.
DeleteThere are so many lines in this post that stick out to me. The smell of their house and how you describe "the real plague on the nation". It was so easy for me to smell what you were describing. I also really liked how you went into the history of the mothballs.
ReplyDeleteI'm thinking this post should begin at sentence three. The sentences before that are the "how are you" and the "fine" and the what's up with you."
ReplyDeleteReally terrific sense descriptions. And I like that you make an imaginative turn to see things through an older generations' eyes.
We'd be happy to eat your attempt at your ancestor's strudel some time this week.
DW